Pain Slut - Sex Stories

Pain Slut

... that. He did not have time to answer before I plunged the knife into his chest. I watched him scream in agony, and heard his lungs fill with blood, after I pulled the knife from his chest. I took the knife, and calmly went to the kitchen to wash off all the blood and flesh attached to it. I put the weapon back into the kitchen drawer. I did not want any hard evidence to tie me to his murder.

I ransacked the house, and my bedroom, to look like intruders had murdered him and stolen me. I took the things I needed and left the house, never to return. The newspapers said it was an unsolved murder and kidnapping. His brother never made a police report with the suspicions of me as the murderer, and from what I could tell the case was not actively being worked on by officials. I got off Scott-free for the mutilation and killing of a sexual predator. But that did not end my story. That was only the beginning.

Chapter 3 – starting a new life

I had stolen all the available cash from the house before I left that night, and I took anything of value that I could carry off and sell. I found a place to live and started my life, but it was not that simple. Now, for some perplexing reason, I was haunted by the craving for sexual abuse and pain that each Saturday night brought me.

I rented a room in a cheap boarding house, then began my quest to find someone to give me the pain and pleasure I had learned to desire. One of my internet searches put me in touch with someone who ...

... claimed he was a Dominant, looking for a Submissive. He described what he wanted, and I knew he was what I needed. I contacted him and we arranged to meet.

The Dom was surprised as he opened his door, that I was so young. He told me later that most Submissives were a bit older and had come out of abusive marriages. I had never been married, but probably been subjected to much more humiliation and pain than most of the women he had dealt with in the past. I figured I would try him out.

He invited me in and began his interview. “Why are you here?”, he asked in a perplexed tone. “I am looking for a new Dom. Mine has moved on and could not take me with him”, I explained. I did not go into any further detail, but I was laughing silently. This Dom thought he had scored a great find, having me show up at his door, and he went on to explain what he expected. “You will be my sex slave. When you are here you will have no identity of your own. You will be ready to please me sexually any way I want you. You will be physically and sexually abused, and I will be in complete control of you. Do you understand?” “Yes, Sir”. I said, as I bowed my head, smiling.

We continued to talk, and he learned that I was accustomed to this lifestyle. He just didn’t know to what level of pain and abuse I had been subjected to. I told him I really wanted to be his sex slave. He smiled and told me to strip. I stood up and removed my shoes, pants and shirt. Then I looked at him and asked if I should go on. ...