I was given to a master for almost five years. It started when I was nine, ended just after turning fifteen. Most of the time I was beaten severely, or locked in my room. He never let me get more than 80 pounds, and I was not allowed to eat, speak, or even cry unless told I could. I have read your website, and there was no "safe word." Men came in often that would pay him so they could beat me or rape me, or whatever they wanted. I even had a man pay him to watch his son loose his virginity to me, after the dad backhanded me and told me to treat his son with the respect that I gave him. Nathan, my owner, over those years broke my wrist a few times, ribs, my jaw once, and the list goes on. When he found out that I was too "internally damaged" from prior abuse to supply him with a son, he sold me to his best friend, who let me go home to my dad. Now I have been in a relationship with a good man for almost seven years. I do all the housework, cook all the meals, even shine his boots like I have been trained to do. He often makes remarks like "oh, yeah, she came trained." I do everything that he likes and wants, no matter how much it hurts me. Actually, I get very nervous when he does ask if something is hurting. I do believe he is a good man, but I feel like I am doing things out of fear, fear of what consequences I will have to pay. I did try to just do things that I thought would make me happy, and what I thought was right, but I felt extremely guilty and afraid, like I was going to be punished for misbehaving, and sadly felt as though I deserved it. During that time of rebelliousness, "we" started having all kinds of "accidents," like my wrist being broken, or getting hit in the face hard, that my now boyfriend would later explain to me that it was my fault. I have been reading on the bdsm stuff, and I have no doubt I am a slave, but what is the use of safe words, and all the junk about the submissive's feelings. Men don't do that. That's the kind of thing that got me tied to a tree for four days and three nights on Nathan's land, alone and scared. What am I? I went to a psychiatrist and he diagnosed me with post traumatic stress disorder and wanted to put me on nerve pills. I didn't agree, but the next two that I went to said the same thing, then the last one told me about bdsm. So, I guess my question is, can you help me understand what I am, and what my purpose is?
I was given to a master for almost five years. It started when I was nine, ended just after turning fifteen. Most of the time I was beaten severly, or locked in my room. He never let me get more than 80 pounds, and I was not allowed to eat, speak, or even cry unless told I could. I have read your website, and there was no "safe word." Men came in often that would pay him so they could beat me or rape me, or whatever they wanted. I even had a man pay him to watch his son loose his virginity to me, after the dad backhanded me and told me to treat his son with the respect that I gave him. Nathan, my owner, over those years broke my wrist a few times, ribs, my jaw once, and the list goes on. When he found out that I was too "internally damaged" from prior abuse to supply him with a son, he sold me to his best friend, who let me go home to my dad. Now I have been in a relationship with a good man for almost seven years. I do all the housework, cook all the meals, even shine his boots like I have been trained to do. He often makes remarks like "oh, yeah, she came trained." I do everything that he likes and wants, no matter how much it hurts me. Actually, I get very nervous when he does ask if something is hurting. I do believe he is a good man, but I feel like I am doing things out of fear, fear of what consequences I will have to pay. I did try to just do things that I thought would make me happy, and what I thought was right, but I felt extreamly guilty and afraid, like I was going to be punished for misbehaving, and sadly felt as though I deserved it. During that time of rebelliousness, "we" started having all kinds of "accidents," like my wrist being broken, or getting hit in the face hard, that my now boyfriend would later explain to me that it was my fault. I have been reading on the bdsm stuff, and I have no doubt I am a slave, but what is the use of safe words, and all the junk about the submissive's feelings. Men don't do that. That's the kind of thing that got me tied to a tree for four days and three nights on Nathan's land, alone and scared. What am I? I went to a psychiatrist and he diagnosed me with post traumatic stress disorder and wanted to put me on nerve pills. I didn't agree, but the next two that I went to said the same thing, then the last one told me about bdsm. So, I guess my question is, can you help me understand what I am, and what my purpose is?|Delete 'P-' before: '' but after: '
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