The Bondage Whore, Chapter 9
The Bondage Whore, by Rachel St. Clair, All Rights Reserved.
Chapter 9 - First Anniversary on the Job
It was July 15th, a quieter than usual Wednesday night, and Rachel was daydreaming. As tonight was her first anniversary as a bondage whore, Rachel was in a reflective, and somber mood. She thought back on the year just past, the many indignities, and was trying to sort out how exactly she wound up like this, and what was worst about it.
She remembered back to that fateful night when she happened across the "Bondage Whore" want-ad in the window of Jimmy's whorehouse, and how naive she had been about it. How she quickly rifled through the contract in his office, afraid she'd lose the job. How on that first payday she found out how cruelly enslaved she really was. Her mind particularly stopped on the "fitting", that day when the horrible belt was locked on her. Of all the cruel things she'd been subjected to, by far the belt was the worst. Unable to even touch her own privates, to use the bathroom freely, that was beyond cruel, and day after day this is what caused her the most grief.
Even sucking cock that had just anally penetrated her, awful as that had been, was not nearly as bad as wearing the belt continuously without relief. "Relief", of course, Rachel thought, was a shift in the stock! Hardly an improvement it would seem, but she realized it had its moments.
Amazing, she thought. Being locked up like this, naked, to be fucked like an a****l is better than that belt! True, though, she knew. Over the year she had, in fact, gotten very used to the stock and being restrained for sex. In fact, Rachel was now truly enjoying it, although she doubted she'd ever admit it. "There is something unmistakably exciting about this predicament. Knowing you're at the mercy of whoever decides to pay Jimmy his fee. That they, a complete stranger, can use me almost any way they see fit. And on top of that, I have to wait here, locked up, bent over, legs lewdly spread, dildo gagged, webcams displaying me while I wait for them." Rachel knew at this point that the belt was no longer necessary. She would continue to show up for her shifts. She loved this. She knew it. But she also knew the belt wasn't coming off. "If only I could do this without the belt, I'd love this! I'm going to have to beg Jimmy."
A year ago she knew little of bondage, and doubted she'd like it. Now, she was getting off on it, in a big way. For one year the only sex she'd had was bondage sex, aside from giving Randy head once in a while at the fleabag. Now, she enjoyed simply being locked up, although she doubted she could explain why. The first few weeks had been a true horror for her, but at some point she discovered the joy of helplessness. Was it freedom? Freedom from responsibility? How ironic that is, that being locked up makes one free. But yet, she sensed that was part of it. Being locked up like a fucktoy removed all responsibilities. On the street, Rachel always had to stay alert, on her toes, as anything could happen. That kept her from truly enjoying sex. But since being locked up, at least after the first couple of weeks anyway, Rachel had been having great orgasms. And her body had adapted wonderfully to being locked up too. Sore at first, she now felt great after a shift, much like a runner after a marathon - tired in a good way, and she slept great.
And quite a few other tortures that she at first hated were now fun. Rachel thought particularly about the nipple clamps. She hated them so much at first! But now, she really liked them, almost a 100% change. Amazing, she thought. And while she still mostly disliked getting her ass paddled, she realized that she liked the feel of her "warmed up" ass after it was over. And just as a customer arrived to break her train of thought, Rachel realized exactly what it was that she liked the most about her job: daydreaming and fantasizing. She was now truly free.