01-05-2019, 08:16 PM
I had been so utterly humiliated and mentally destroyed by Jamal's punishment that I couldn't even think straight. I sat in my own kitchen, cum oozing out of my ass, my bra cold and wet, and my brain in a state of chaos. The shame of my predicament, the anger at Jamal, the feeling of submission that went beyond just the sexual realm and touched my self-esteem. I was traumatized. Soon it all got too much for my brain to handle and it just switched off.*
I went into a fugue state. Hours passed that I still have no recollection of. I have no idea how long I was kept tied to that chair, naked except for my bra. I have no idea of what Jamal said or did to me in all that time. Absolutely no memory.*
The next thing I knew I was curled up on the couch, still clad in a bra, next to Jamal who was watching TV. I raise my head to look at the clock. It had been almost 6 hours. I stirred and put my feet on the ground.
"Are you okay?" there was actual concern in Jamal's voice.
I nodded, sitting straight. My asshole still hurt. I had no idea if it was from earlier in the day or if the sadistic bastard had buggered me more times since then, even in my fugue state. At least my bra was dry. My wrists and ankles still felt sore from the jute string, although there were no marks.*
"I was getting a little worried, hehe." he nervously said.
I stayed silent. I couldn't even bear to look at him. I laboriously got up and staggered towards the bathroom. In the mirror, I couldn't believe how trashy I looked. There was dried cum all over my face and in my hair, so that gave me some hints of what had happened. There was dried cum all around my asshole and my thighs. I washed my face, trying to think. I put on a bathrobe and walked out, my thighs still hurting.
"I have to get going." Jamal said, standing by the door. "I hope you learned your lesson."
Difficult as it is to believe, Jamal seemed to have been affected by that day's proceedings as well. Over the next few days, his behavior towards me still remained dominant and demanding, but he seemed to have dialed down the sadism a lot. Maybe even he felt a sense of shame in how far he had gone. Or maybe it was just my utter and complete submission to him. I didn't offer any resistance or reluctance whatsoever, be it by words or deeds or even looks. I also became like a robotic doll just dancing to his commands. If he had meant to break my will completely, he had.*
I felt no anger, no shame, no joy, no disgust, nothing. Food felt tasteless and I ate only for survival. Movies, TV shows just blared in front of my eyes without me registering anything. I tried to hide it as much as possible from Vinay, but even he kept asking me what was wrong. I couldn't tell him that his wife had been utterly owned by someone else.
It also broke something else inside me. Earlier, I would try to derive pleasure from the rough sex and the humiliation and the exhibition. But now, even that completely stopped. I was just going through the motions. Jamal would still come over, make me wear different clothes, fuck me 3-4 times a day, and leave. But something had changed. I was now, well and truly, his sex slave.*
I became like a prisoner who has been sentenced to solitary confinement and lost all hope.
I went into a fugue state. Hours passed that I still have no recollection of. I have no idea how long I was kept tied to that chair, naked except for my bra. I have no idea of what Jamal said or did to me in all that time. Absolutely no memory.*
The next thing I knew I was curled up on the couch, still clad in a bra, next to Jamal who was watching TV. I raise my head to look at the clock. It had been almost 6 hours. I stirred and put my feet on the ground.
"Are you okay?" there was actual concern in Jamal's voice.
I nodded, sitting straight. My asshole still hurt. I had no idea if it was from earlier in the day or if the sadistic bastard had buggered me more times since then, even in my fugue state. At least my bra was dry. My wrists and ankles still felt sore from the jute string, although there were no marks.*
"I was getting a little worried, hehe." he nervously said.
I stayed silent. I couldn't even bear to look at him. I laboriously got up and staggered towards the bathroom. In the mirror, I couldn't believe how trashy I looked. There was dried cum all over my face and in my hair, so that gave me some hints of what had happened. There was dried cum all around my asshole and my thighs. I washed my face, trying to think. I put on a bathrobe and walked out, my thighs still hurting.
"I have to get going." Jamal said, standing by the door. "I hope you learned your lesson."
Difficult as it is to believe, Jamal seemed to have been affected by that day's proceedings as well. Over the next few days, his behavior towards me still remained dominant and demanding, but he seemed to have dialed down the sadism a lot. Maybe even he felt a sense of shame in how far he had gone. Or maybe it was just my utter and complete submission to him. I didn't offer any resistance or reluctance whatsoever, be it by words or deeds or even looks. I also became like a robotic doll just dancing to his commands. If he had meant to break my will completely, he had.*
I felt no anger, no shame, no joy, no disgust, nothing. Food felt tasteless and I ate only for survival. Movies, TV shows just blared in front of my eyes without me registering anything. I tried to hide it as much as possible from Vinay, but even he kept asking me what was wrong. I couldn't tell him that his wife had been utterly owned by someone else.
It also broke something else inside me. Earlier, I would try to derive pleasure from the rough sex and the humiliation and the exhibition. But now, even that completely stopped. I was just going through the motions. Jamal would still come over, make me wear different clothes, fuck me 3-4 times a day, and leave. But something had changed. I was now, well and truly, his sex slave.*
I became like a prisoner who has been sentenced to solitary confinement and lost all hope.
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