This is a story about a young woman brainwashed to become a submissive sex slave to her husband. Enjoy!.
I’m the luckiest woman in the world. I’m married to the most wonderful man - Jack makes me feel cherished. At our wedding Jack vowed to love, protect and control me, and I to love, worship and obey him. It’s such freedom not to have to worry, even to think. I’m so happy!
I would be a soccer mom to our twin boys – except that Jack likes me to stay home. I have not gone outside the house since Jack drove us home from our wedding.
I am completely faithful to Jack, and I have zero interest in other men. When we have visitors to the house, I look down at my shoes and do not make eye contact with them. They do not address me directly. They talk to Jack, and in the unlikely event that I am the subject of discussion, Jack answers for me.
Jack is a “hot husband”. He enjoys sexual encounters with young women several times a week. We agree that it strengthens our relationship for me to see him happy. When he has a partner visit the bedroom, he says “9, cage” and I strip naked and get into a pet cage which is set on a table at the foot of the bed. You might think it would be humiliating for me. Often the young ladies laugh at me and treat me like a piece of dirt. But on the contrary I love to feel close to him and to share his pleasure.
I grew up in East Bumfuck, Texas. It is a small agricultural town in the middle of nowhere. My Mom and Dad are Chinese Americans. They were strict parents – they did not allow me to date or bring friends to the house, use the internet or listen to music. Dad was very opinionated, and would lecture to the family. We did not dare contradict him.
His views were intensely right wing – immigration should be banned, he said – and he hated trade unions. Except the Miller’s Union, where he was a Union rep. I enjoyed going to High School – I learnt a whole different world from my teachers. My grades were excellent, and I was looking forward to attending Rice University in the fall.
At 17 years old, everyone told me that I was becoming a lovely young woman. I was the homecoming queen - and local photographers kept asking me to try out as a model. I’m 5’ 6” tall with long hair – I think my hair is my prettiest feature. It is black and glossy and falls all the way down to my waist. I’m skinny with a 23 inch waist. I have a nice body but I think my tits are too small. They’re barely a size A – Mom liked to ask me where I was when the breasts were handed out. The boys don’t seem to mind and they try to pet me sometimes – I hope my little brother doesn’t see and report to Dad.
Of course Dad forbade any modelling gigs. He even told me not to talk to the boys at school – I had to ignore their ardent attempts to befriend me, being very careful to avoid eye contact. My younger brother used to spy on me, and he would tell Dad if I broke his rules in any way.
I particularly enjoyed the Gender Identity classes at school – they taught me that there was a gay gene – that being gay was genetic rather than as a result of life experiences. This struck a chord with me because I wasn’t attracted to boys – women are much cuter, also gentle and affectionate. I decided that, if I could escape this loathsome home life, I would come out as a lesbian
But Dad had other plans for me. He believed in arranged marriages and decided that I would marry his boss, who was 62 years old. Lao Biantai had been married four times, each time divorcing his wives after they turned 25. They never contested the divorces, happy to escape his clutches. I dared to beg my Dad not to marry me to Lao – and Dad beat me severely and locked me in my bedroom for a week.
Probably because of my Dad’s misogynistic views, I was also becoming a budding feminist. I believed that women were as capable and intelligent as men, and I felt horrified that I would have to sacrifice my University aspirations to become a sex slave to an old pervert.
I just couldn’t stand it. The wedding had been planned for months, and would take place on my 18th birthday. On the eve of my 18th. birthday, in the dead of night, I opened the bathroom window and climbed out, jumping down to the flower bed below. I decided to travel to Los Angeles and try to jump start a modelling career.
I rode the freeways with long haul truckers. I had no money so I slept in the back while the trucker was driving and sat in the passenger seat while he slept in the back. I told the drivers that I had AIDS, and they decided not to rape me. At last I was in California! The trucker dropped me off in Ontario, within an hour’s drive to LA.
I got a ride in a Mercedes Benz sports car – it would be nice to travel in style for a while, I thought. I told the lady in the driver’s seat that I wanted to go to downtown LA – and she said no problem, hop in. She was a nice looking lady in her 30s, with an athletic build and a welcoming smile. Maybe we could be friends in LA and she could show me around town……
She introduced herself as Michelle, so I responded “Nice to meet you Michelle, I’m – OMG she punched me in the mouth! And then started to strangle me! “I don’t care what your fucking name used to be, bitch. Now you are # 9. Understand? She loosened her hold around my neck and asked me my name. I answered “#9, Michelle.” “She punched me again and said “Don’t call me by my name. I’m your Mistress!” I felt humiliated and degraded. “#9, Mistress.”
“OK”,she said, “There’s a Zip tie around your neck and attached to the seat headrest. It’s already tight – but I can make it tighter if you resist. Just chill and you won’t get hurt. I flailed at her with my fists but all I could do was to tighten the Zip Tie. I realized that I was completely in her power, and that I had better cooperate with her and hope she’d have her kicks and let me go soon.
And then…she touched my ribs and began to tickle me! OMG! I couldn’t control myself, even though the Zip Tie restricted my breathing while I laughed and flailed around helplessly with my hands. Then she took my right hand and passed it behind my back, and brought my two wrists together and secured them behind my back with metal police handcuffs. She tightened the Zip Tie around my neck, got back in the driver’s seat and started to drive the car, turning right and left until we arrived at a deserted area.
We stopped. She got out of the car, walked around, opened the passenger door and started to examine my body. She caressed my hair, stroked my cheeks and chin and whispered that I was a lovely young lady .It was totally humiliating when she opened my mouth and pulled my tongue out. After playing with my tongue for a while she moved down to my shoulders, then my breasts. Your tits are hard to find, she said. You need implants. Size C would compliment your figure.
Then she took out scissors and cut away my T Shirt and bra. And pulled off my jeans, panties, shoes and socks so that I sat there completely naked. She stuffed my panties inside my mouth and secured them with duct tape so I couldn’t say anything. She picked up my clothes and put them in a plastic bag. She said that I wouldn’t be needing them any more and threw the bag into the bushes beside the road.
Then she squeezed his fingers over my nose so I couldn’t breathe. At last she took his fingers off. I was gasping for air. I am your friend, she said. Don’t fight me, everything will be Ok.
She put her mouth over my nose and started to fondle my body. She released my nose, picked me up and felt under my butt and penetrated my ass hole with her fingers. And stuffed something up inside! Ouch! I’ve never felt anything like that before. Then he put me down on the seat and felt me up down there. “You are a virgin!” she exclaimed. “That makes my day”,she said.
She attached heavy metal shackles to my ankles, then unlocked one of the handcuffs and relocked them in front of me. And connected the handcuffs to the shackles with a short chain so I was forced to bend forward in a foetal position. She even put special cuffs on my thumbs! I was frightened to move my hands for fear I might break my thumbs.
She injected my right arm with a hypodermic syringe. I tried to ask her “What did you inject me with?” but with my mouth gagged it came out as “wxxx xxxd u ixxxt xxxxx”. She seemed to understand me. “That’s Rohypnol, she said. “It’ll help you relax.” Then I tried to ask her what was going to happen to me, why she was doing this to me etc., but she didn’t seem interested. She filed on her nails, and, when she was satisfied with her handiwork, she touched up her lipstick using the driving mirror.
She wasn’t going to answer my questions, so I chilled, and soon I felt calm and relaxed. Then she picked me up, and carried me to the back of the car. She opened the trunk and put me into….a suitcase! There was plenty of room for my tight little body to fit in. She zipped the suitcase shut, closed the trunk and drove off.
My first thought was……next time I’m kidnapped by a crazy psychopath, be sure to wear clean underwear. After three days on the road, my panties tasted disgusting. And it didn’t look as though I was going to be set free anytime soon. What horrible experiences were waiting for me when we arrived?
After a short time the car started bumping, and I guessed we were on a dirt road, and probably close to our destination. Sure enough, soon the car stopped. The trunk opened, she took out my suitcase, and wheeled me (it’s a strange sensation to be wheeled inside a suitcase) and then set the suitcase horizontally down on the floor.
She opened the suitcase and I angrily tried to scream and demand that she set me free. She said – “What we have here is a failure to communicate.” OMG! I recognized that phrase from a movie called “Cool Hand Luke” which had showed at school. The line was spoken by Strother Martin, playing the Camp Warden, to Paul Newman, playing a rebellious chain gang convict. What it meant was……”I am going to continue mistreating you until you see things my way.”
“I’m going to tell you a joke”, she said.
“What is the difference between your wife and your dog?”
I didn’t know but anyway I was in no position to reply.
“When you get home drunk at 3am in the morning, your dog is pleased to see you.” And she laughed.
I don’t know how much time went by. It felt like a week, but probably it was no longer than two days. I became very hungry and thirsty, and the taste of my underwear did not improve. Maybe what awaited me was worse than being shut up in the suitcase. I thought long and hard about the joke she had told me, and suddenly I understood it. Be nice to whoever opens the suitcase.........