MaryBeth's College years

[Neighbor]

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[Neighbor]

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[Shocker]

@Neighbor if those text segments were supposed to be read, I'm sorry to let you know, that at least on my full scale screen, this does not work.

Thanks for your feedback. Could you look again, let me know what is readable?

125% is legible, 150% is comfortable readable even on a tablet screen. I couldn’t respond to your message, you might want to check your settings on who can send you a message.

[Neighbor]

125% is legible, 150% is comfortable readable even on a tablet screen. I couldn’t respond to your message, you might want to check your settings on who can send you a message.

Got it. Thank you so much for your efforts.
I'll try to figure out the DM thingy...

[Neighbor]

Title of Chapter 3 - Switch to the Woman's POV

Switch to WOMAN'S POV, as she makes peace with her captivity, her status as a slave, with the implanted illusion that she has chosen all this.

He left our apartment, to go wherever he goes in the daytime. I lay sated, fulfilled, no longer a virgin. I had given THAT to this man I have known for so little a time. If nothing else, I have been well-fucked, I have every reason to believe that I've left HIM well-satisfied. My fingers gingerly locate my sore clit, my sore (but HAPPY) vulva, tears filling my eyes at the new (to me) thought that I am in love, and I am loved. Now I would need to earn his trust, that he can allow me out of this locked room, into the house above this, and into his relationship with his parents. VI (my mom) and Dad would welcome him. They'd be quietly shocked that we are fucking, but they will instantly fall in love with Tom, as I have. Through tear-blurred eyes, I looked around the room, I was in love, I was loved, I was secure. I had so much to learn. Would he let us have 8 kids? Would he let my parents invite him to their church?

My mind still flitting through scattered thoughts, I rose and padded to the bathroom for yet another shower. My silly tears continued, invisible in the shower's steaming wet warmth. I'm in love. Mrs Tom... FUCK. I don't even know what our name is. I giggle at the thought that maybe he'd want to become a Putnam. Tom Putnam. Not sure I'd want a hyphenated name, though. I hope this "slave-thing" doesn't come with beating, or cutting, or branding. I know I can please him, make him glad that he loves me. I will have to trust him to let me have boundaries. I spent the next few hours reading, to get my mind off the silly, flitting thoughts of being in love, of being anxious to get married, of wondering what my dam'd last name is...

Mid-day I got a yogurt, a banana, and a stalk of celery and sat at the table in the bedroom, staring at the notebook and the two ballpoint pens, my mind whispering, "You're staring at the notebook and pens...". The thought came as a flash, I needed a journal, or a diary, to express my memories and thoughts about how I met and fell in love with Tom. I laughed at myself as I thought, "Hell, I might need it to blackmail him someday."

I closed my eyes, and thought about how I met Tom, he had stepped out of the night and hit me. Slugged my in the stomach... No, wait, he was working for the University, mowing lawns. He was sitting in a hallway, cooling off from mowing outside, and I had seen his work-clothes, I thought it looked like a uniform or something, and he jumped on me for having no shoes on. But it was Saturday morning, and nobody was using the hall. Well, to be specific, the main hallway of the Taylor Hall building. But Tom scared me, I didn't know if he was a school officer, and I didn't realize until later he was just having a joke, about me not being allowed to walk barefoot inside the school building. He is a big guy, good-looking and all, muscled and dark hair, but something unreadable about him, like you couldn't easily get close to him. He helped me with my car, but clumsily said something about how I might be coerced to go out with him, and I just ran.

But later, I'd see him there between my classes and realized he is a student too, although probably a couple years older than I am. One of my friends had teased me about him, saying if I liked turning to watch him walk away from us, that I should ask him out. But it was so totally sudden, a shock, when he walked out of the dark, me coming out of the gas station toilet, and I think he hit me in the stomach with a fist. I didn't know, if you get hit like that, your breathing freezes, and you can't take in a breath for like minutes... a minute or two. I felt weak and unable to work my arms, I was barely able to stand bent over, and he had stuffed my mouth full of a big white athletic sock, and put tape around my head. I was so scared. I felt like I was in a slow-motion nightmare, like it was the end of my life. I think I just gave up, and was waiting to see if I was going to die. But I was more afraid of pain at that moment, than if I was going to die. My stomach hurt a little, but I think it was partly numb, at that moment, but it was sore for a day. I was thrown into the back of Tom's car, it seemed so effortless for him, and I had just started to snap out of my mental freeze, and I started trying to scream while Tom was tying my ankles to my wrists, behind my back. The car door closed and I was screaming bloody murder, but it was pretty muffled, and he got into the back with me, grabbing my hair and sliding his leg under my chin. Tom then started to wrap big wide plastic wrap around my whole head, but I could breathe out of my nose, until that was pinched off. Belatedly, I had decided I was going to die fighting, if indeed that was what was happening to me, and I struggled and screamed with all the fury I was capable of.

Until Tom pinched my nose shut, and he growled a threat and said he was going to take me someplace, and I kept trying to fight for a minute, then I pissed myself, and I went quiet, fearfully waiting to see if I was going to die that night. Or be raped, or beaten, or stabbed, or shot...

I honestly don't know if it was 10 minutes, or half an hour, or longer. The car drove, and my mouth and my eyes and my ears were all covered in wrapping tape. The grey shit that mechanics use, "duck tape". The car stopped, and the door opened, and Tom was using my tied hands and feet like a suitcase handle, lifting me out of the car, and carrying for another 5 minutes, when my stomach landed on a mattress. There was a quilt or something on the bed, it was smooth. I could feel the wrapping come off my ankles and then my wrists. I tried to turn over and sit up and reached up to take the stuff off my face, but Tom was already doing that, and then I could see, and then the stuff was off my mouth.

I cowered, and asked, "Are you going to kill me?" Tom didn't have any expression. No hate, no friendliness, but also no regret or fear... no concern for my terror, my fear, my still-sore stomach. But the one thing I remember is that he seemed to avoid looking directly into my eyes. He would look at my cheek, or my chin, or down at our feet. I felt a sudden chill, as I remembered in the movie Silence of Lambs, the killer avoided getting personal because he was going to kill the victim. So it suddenly occurred to me that getting raped might be a good thing, giving me more hours, or days, or whatever. I sat silent, sucking in a big breath, wishing my tits were a size larger. Searching his face, I sat for a moment quietly, waiting for him to pronounce my fate. After moments, he said, "I'm going to train you to be my slave", matter-of-factly. Just like that. Talking about my whole life, my whole existence, without asking ME first.

My unconscious answer burst out, "THE FUCK YOU ARE!", I said defiantly. "You can control me, but I will hate you until I die." There was a silence between us, then I said quietly, "I'm a virgin." There was another silence between us, and in my mind I said, "I am SO sorry, Vi." Vi is my mom, but she thinks "Mom" makes her sound old, and she insists that my younger sister and I call her "Vi". She would cry for me, she'd had higher hopes for me since I was born. Hell, I began to cry for myself, sobbing in fearful relief, sobbing for the loss of my hopes, my plans for myself, sobbing for the impending loss of a virginity I had promised myself would wait until my marriage bed. Then I looked at the edge of my vision, at Tom. He was big and muscled. I wonder if he would have a tiny dick... Maybe if he'd just asked me to go out... Get me drunk and maybe I'd have fucked... A sudden perverse mental laughter, "A tiny dick isn't going to hurt as bad!"

... But he had big hands. His feet were not huge, but were proportionate to a big man. He was probably 5' 11" or maybe 6 feet. Kind of muscled but "college boy" trim. The wry thought hit me, I didn't want to be raped, but as far as Tom, I could do worse, I guess. But... no weakness. I wouldn't give an inch. He'd have to BEAT out of me, whatever he was going to take.

................................................

The door opened suddenly and I jumped to my feet as Tom came in. I had so many questions. I ran the few feet between us and I leapt into his embrace, my legs around him, my heels dug in behind his knees, and we kissed, standing there long minutes, nature turning up the heat inside both of us. Then I breathed, "I have SO many questions. So many things I need to know. ... I'm... going to write a book." The love in his face reinforced my feelings of security, the glint in his eye as he said humorously, "The Hell You Say."

I whispered into his ear, "What is my last name going to be?" I found out my name was going to be MaryBeth Violet Howard. I unwrapped my legs and stood in front of him, unzipped his pants, and reached inside. His shaft becoming instantly interested, I grasped him with slight pumping motions, and I said teasingly, "If you get me a set of keys to your house, I'll sleep with you." While I still grasped his cock, he lifted both hands and pulled off a silver chain necklace, with a housedoor key on it, and placed it around my neck. In that moment, I realized why I didn't know much about him. He didn't volunteer to talk much.

I would have to teach him to share, even as HE was teaching ME how to be a "slave". But... "First things first." I needed to get this man "fresh-fucked" and happy to be home. I began to pull on him, leading him to the bed. I call "Cowboy", I said to his pleasantly surprised face.

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The next morning when I woke, Tom had gone. I instinctively reached to my chest, and there was the silver chain, around my neck, and the little key that it held. I needed to get back to school; I was pretty sure I could save all my classes. And I needed to let my parents know I'm OK... and my friends. But...

I needed to finish my "book". I would choose to have "MY MASTER" decide when it was time to try my key. In the meantime, I wouldn't even go near the door.

I picked up the pen and opened the notebook, and I scribbled until noon and it was time to eat.

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(Back to my diary) I fought Tom, I did. But somehow it was my duty to embrace him, and to kiss him on the mouth. I'm not a machine, and I was susceptible to the security of closeness with him. We were having a battle of wills, but he had cheated and bypassed my resistance, by suggesting that I fantasize that I was free, and with some past boyfriend. He had sat me on a chair, with my back to him, and the feel of his hands, his kisses on my shoulders, and my neck, and my ears... My body began screaming for the security of physical intimacy. Something ignited in me and I unconsciously was warring with MYSELF, wanting to give HIM my virginity. When he started to eat my pussy (my first time experiencing that in person), I had lost my battles, and I wanted him in me SO BAD. In the confusion, and the sex, he had me screaming that I wanted to be his slave. And I did. And I still do, vaguely, not totally certain of what commitment I am making, not totally certain of how it will affect our marriage and family life. I want him to be PART OF ME. "I want him to COMMAND me", I thought sheepishly. Does that sound weird?

(Now in the present) I kept scribbling in my book. I filled pages. I left markers, and added afterthoughts. I even began a list of questions to bring up, when we have time to talk, and I am able to resist the temptation to insist he immediately fuck me. I found out that he can fuck me until he cums, then can eat my pussy, and I will have cum 3 more times, by the time his cock gets hard again. And he's perfectly OK giving that to me. He's good for 3 or 4 times, with each time being longer than before, before he just usually falls asleep. I like to just lay and watch his face as he sleeps, curling his black hair between my thumb and finger. And I found out I can suck on his cock, and it gets hard, and he stirs but doesn't awaken. ... there's something really HOT about that.

I can't wait to talk to my girlfriends. And it will be interesting getting Tom to the point where he will go with me to my parent's house...

End of Chapter 3

(Story has been tagged "Finished". I may come back to it if/when I feel inspired to do so.)

[trio]

Love this one ... please write more