My Mistress/Madame/Pimp
Wasn't sure what I was getting myself into, some 10/11 years ago.
I was a prim and proper teen. Never got into trouble. In a very religious family.
Perusing EP (The Experience Project) at the time, looking for some spiritual guidance, and for the writings of who would eventually become my Madame/Pimp, Martika.
For some reason I found her stories very arousing and stimulating. Here was a married prostitute, who's husband knew she worked, she fucked whoever she wanted to, had kids that weren't her husband, smoked, drank, did drugs, swore. It was all very intoxicating, the whole thought of that lifestyle.
I went to meet her. Cold called, so to speak. She treated me like an annoying shit. Like scum. I blurted out how I wanted to be just like her...
...and so my descent down that rabbit hole began.
Training. Lots of training. Beatings. Forced, initially, to smoke, drink and take drugs. Forced, initially, to live my life just like she did.
Few weeks after training began, I was starting to sell myself on the streets. Such a thrill to know that everyone knows how subservient I have become. To become this degenerate.
There was violence, there was verbal abuse. What I lived for was the praise that I got for doing what she wanted.
For the first few years of my prostitute career I was only known as 'Bitch'. I was the first hooker pimped by her. When she started using my name instead. Made me feel accepted.
I do what she says, freely. I make as much money as I can and gladly give it all to her. I'm her cash cow. I live in the same house with her, but nothing sexual between us. She buys the clothes I wear, the jewellery, the makeup...everything.
She has made me who she wants me to be.
She's my pimp, my Madame...and my owner.
I was a prim and proper teen. Never got into trouble. In a very religious family.
Perusing EP (The Experience Project) at the time, looking for some spiritual guidance, and for the writings of who would eventually become my Madame/Pimp, Martika.
For some reason I found her stories very arousing and stimulating. Here was a married prostitute, who's husband knew she worked, she fucked whoever she wanted to, had kids that weren't her husband, smoked, drank, did drugs, swore. It was all very intoxicating, the whole thought of that lifestyle.
I went to meet her. Cold called, so to speak. She treated me like an annoying shit. Like scum. I blurted out how I wanted to be just like her...
...and so my descent down that rabbit hole began.
Training. Lots of training. Beatings. Forced, initially, to smoke, drink and take drugs. Forced, initially, to live my life just like she did.
Few weeks after training began, I was starting to sell myself on the streets. Such a thrill to know that everyone knows how subservient I have become. To become this degenerate.
There was violence, there was verbal abuse. What I lived for was the praise that I got for doing what she wanted.
For the first few years of my prostitute career I was only known as 'Bitch'. I was the first hooker pimped by her. When she started using my name instead. Made me feel accepted.
I do what she says, freely. I make as much money as I can and gladly give it all to her. I'm her cash cow. I live in the same house with her, but nothing sexual between us. She buys the clothes I wear, the jewellery, the makeup...everything.
She has made me who she wants me to be.
She's my pimp, my Madame...and my owner.
26-30, F
