He untied me from the chair, but kept my hands bound behind my back. Then he grabbed my neck and started leading me back to "my room" or "the bathroom" or whatever the fuck you want to call it. With every step my heart was sinking deeper. And when we entered "the bathroom" I saw that the mattress and the blanket were gone. Tears welled up in my eyes. It was so tough to get something so good, and then to lose it.

Then there was again the hood. Blackness, almost impossible to breathe, awful pain in the jaw, gagging. And the predicament bondage. Stand on my toes, then choke, then stand on my toes, then choke, and so on, and so on. After an eternity of that torture: hood removed, blindfold on. Endless heavy physical exercise in a sea of blackness, constantly feeling like I was about to fall.

Then all in sweat I was strung up by my arms. I was still wearing that stupid tight latex top, I had no idea why. My skin was boiling underneath it. His hands roaming all over the latex top, all over my breasts tightly packaged in it. Please don't touch my pussy, please don't touch my pussy, please don't touch my pussy.

But he did. And it was not so much that it hurt. The bruises were less bad at this point. But it was, especially at one specific point, SO EXTREMELY FUCKING SENSITIVE!!!

"AAAAAGH!!!"

"Mouth shut, lazy bitch, and no kicking around! Lemme tie your legs to the spreader bar and put the hood on you so you cannot kick and shout like this."

After he did, his hands resumed their trips all over my body. And of course, back again to my pussy. WHY THE HELL WAS IT SO UNBEARABLY SENSITIVE TO THE TOUCH!!! WHY THE HELL DID IT FEEL SO WEIRD!!! LIKE AN EXPOSED NERVE OR SOMETHING!!!

I knew why. But my imagination was unable to fully picture it, my brain was unable to fully comprehend it.

His other hand traveled slowly all across my bruised ass, exploring it carefully, until it eventually arrived to the end of its journey, at my asshole. A probing finger pushed against my burnt with electricity asshole. A bit of lube please? A BIT OF LUBE PLEASE, THAT ASSHOLE WAS VERY RECENTLY UNDER HIGH VOLTAGE?! But no, the finger was pushing, trying to find its way inside, without any lube. A proud finger that didn't need such help.

I realized that he was giving me the worst and weirdest torture of my life with just two fingers. One casually touching my unbearably sensitive and unnaturally exposed clitoris. The other lubelessly probing my electrocuted asshole. He was able to make me twitch, tremble, wiggle and mmmmmm out of my fucking mind with so little effort. Every time he touched my clitoris, the outburst of sensory overwhelm made my asshole convulsively and painfully contract around his other finger.

I guess that's what gave him the idea for what was to follow. I heard him spit several times. Then I felt that he stood behind me. I felt him pressed against my ass and my back. And I felt something thicker pressing against my asshole. Thicker but wetter. His cock, was my scientific guess. It went in with an explosion of pain.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!"

Until that day, I had only had anal sex when I was very drunk, very turned on, very lubed, and not at all with an asshole electrocuted multiple times, and not at all tied up, and not at all wearing a hood impeding me from breathing normally. None of those conditions were met at present. That made it an extremely painful and uncomfortable experience. It could not get any worse.

Except that it could. His hand reached over to touch my clitoris. My whole body twitched uncontrollably and my asshole contracted painfully. After a couple of seconds he did that again. And again, and again. By touching my unnaturally exposed and unnaturally sensitive clitoris, he was making my asshole fuck him. He was not even moving up and down. Was making me do all the work. I'm able to make some dark jokes about it now, but back then, when it was happening, I was not laughing.

I don't know how many times he did that before finally coming inside my ass. It was such a relief to feel his warmth spread inside me.

And then, without a word, he left. I heard him close the metal door from the other side, a sound I had learned to recognize really well. I was standing there, my legs spread far apart, my arms pulled up to the ceiling, trying hard to breathe in that infamous hood of his.

He was gone for a really long time. Maybe I was going to spend the night like this?

But he returned eventually, and lifted one of my feet, and pushed it into something. What the hell was this? When he let me step back on the ground, I understood. It was a high heel shoe. My size. One of my shoes. He put the other shoe of my other foot. It was really hard to stand on high heels when my legs were spread far apart. But maybe it was a bit better than barefoot the cold floor.

Then he unpeeled off me and pushed up the latex top I was wearing. Pushed it way up, all the way to my wrists attached high above my head. My extremely sweaty torso was exposed. And then I felt his tickling and scratching facial hair all over it. He was kissing and licking my very sweaty breasts and stomach and neck, and even my armpits. He seemed to very much enjoy the natural taste of my body, for he continued licking and kissing it for a long time.

And then I felt something push against the opening of my pussy. Please tell me that he'd washed his penis after the anal sex!!! Please tell me that!!!

In spite of everything, I almost came when he pushed his cock into my pussy and a rush of sensations filled me. Why are you looking at me like that? I hadn't come for a week! This had never happened to me before!

But just as I felt that I was getting close to coming, his pubes or his fats or his shirt or I don't know what, something started pushing against my clitoris. SENSORY OVERWHELM!!! And it continued rubbing there as he was moving up and down. AAAAAAGH!!!

He made some movements up and down, his head buried in my sweaty breasts, neck and armpits, and he came inside me. And I was left, on top of everything else, with that frustrating feeling of being close to coming, but not managing. Great, let me add blue vulva to the list of my 99 problems!

As I could feel his sperm leaking down my thighs, I wondered: hmmm, what about contraception?...

At this point he was breathing as heavily as I was in the hood. Coming three times today, on our wedding day, had probably tired him a lot. He unstrapped my ankles, and unhooked my wrists, tying them behind my back.

"Well... lazy bitch... this was... the best day of my life... It is hard for me to say such things, but I gotta say it. You made it so good. Only one thing can make it even better. You know, night is coming, I gotta go to sleep, so the usual question is coming. Should I remove the hood?"

"Mmm mmm mmm."

"Thank you. You're the best lazy bitch. Phew.... I got so tired... "

And he slowly stumbled away, leaving me in the usual endless blackness and pain.

---

The next three weeks were quite similar to the first.

Let me try to say this in another way. The endless nightmare of torture and blackness of the first week was slowly and terrifyingly repeated over and over again in the course of the next three weeks!

One huge difference was that now sex was very much a thing. Also now he often made me wear high heels for many of our activities, for some reason.

On week 2 I fell during a physical exercise. I got a huge beating on my thighs that sucked so much. Didn't fall again after that.

On week 3 he tried to give me oral. My clitoris was a tiny little bit less sensitive by then, but still way too sensitive for his tongue. I was squirming and wiggling and this pissed him off a lot. He gave my feet such a beating that standing for hours became an even bigger torture, no matter if in high heels or barefoot on the cold floor.

On week 4 I finally came. He was fucking me from behind, but in my pussy, not my asshole. And he was fondling my breasts instead of playing with my overly sensitive clitoris. I could feel his warmth moving up and down inside of me. I remembered the smell of his dirty underpants when I gave him the first blowjob. And I EXPLODED! I am a slut, I know. I squirted out weeks of accumulated squirt onto his cock, like a river. And then he came too.

---

After week 4 things started changing. He announced to me that he had found me a job.

"You should work, lazy bitch. But I can't let you go out of the house. And you ain't got no diploma or profession or anything of the kind. But you are hot. You've got 30k followers on Instagram and 10k on Tiktok without even trying. I saw it on your phone. So OnlyFans would be the best job for you. But there's this problem that I'm a disciplinarian and you're a girl who needs discipline. So you'd always have some bruises here and there, so how would that work with OnlyFans? Well, I created an account for you, called LonelyBoredMaso. It will say that you are beating yourself. You won't have access to it. I can't let you use the phone or the internet. I'll be uploading the stuff, I'll be writing stuff there."

LonelyBoredMaso? A triple lie. Like most things on the internet. So it had a chance to work, I suppose.

After that, one of my main duties became to look as beautiful and sexy as I possibly could. Which required regular sleep and regular food. So my lifestyle became less harsh again, like the day before the wedding.

I saw my new modified pussy for the first time when JD showed me pictures of me he'd taken for my OnlyFans. After a month of diet and exercise I looked like an absolute bikini model. My clitoris was visible and quite protruding, like that of a super turned on girl. It was kind of hot, to be honest. But I couldn't comprehend that this was me. I guess it wasn't? It was the new me, the "lazy bitch". I didn't think of the two as the same person. I didn't think of me as her. Or maybe by now the real me was her, and the old one was gone? I didn't know, I was confused about who I was.

---

My other big duty was cleaning and cooking. I was allowed to go on the upper floors of his house now. But the collar locked around my neck would brutally electrocute me if I tried to leave the house. JD explained to me that he had carefully set up its perimeter. That I should avoid getting my neck too close to the windows or the front door. Cleaning the windows was always a stressful activity: I didn't want to be zapped into unconsciousness.

Cleaning and cooking were very needed. JD's house was extremely dirty, his clothes too, and he was mostly eating canned food. I worked tirelessly many hours each day to change all that. There were no breaks, no leisure time. Just the usual activities plus the photo shoots plus the endless scrubbing and washing and cleaning and cooking. I didn't want to find out how JD would punish me if I was lazy ever again.

He was not a flexible person. He had countless ideas of how every small thing in the house should be like. Or every small thing about my behavior. And each of those became a firm rules. Any transgression would be cruelly punished in ways I didn't even want to imagine. So if he wanted me to wear six inch heels while scrubbing floors, that's what I was doing.

---

JD's love language was cruelty. He'd make me wear his favorite hood when "we" were watching TV in the evening and I was kneeling by his side, so that even in that moment I was very uncomfortable. He'd beat me for fun when I'd been super good, although that was always much milder than the punishments. He'd restrict me in all ways possible and imaginable.

And my love language, or the love language of this new me, turned out to be pleasing. Any chance I got, I'd try to please him. Including in ways he didn't expect. It was not easy because I was so limited in what I could do. Whenever he gave me some choice, I'd choose the option that pleased him more.

That would just make him like me more, and therefore make him be more cruel with me. Because that's how it worked for him. Also it would make him worry that he wasn't being strict enough with me, since I had the energy to try to please him more. So he'd be even more strict.

Often I'd quietly get upset at this injustice. I'd make a very short-lived decision to not try to please him so much. But when he was less pleased with me he showed it in other ways. He expressed his disapproval of me with a lot more sarcastic and rude comments. And I hated that. I needed him to like me.

---

After the first month, JD was a bit over-saturated with my nudity. He preferred seeing me clean and cook in various ultra sexy attires. Since the OnlyFans business not only paid for, but also required the purchase of such items, there was often something new for me to please his eyes with. Lace-up leather shorts, or a tight corset, or a new pair of high heels, or some latex.

It took several more months for the OnlyFans page to start bringing him good amounts of money, and for me to really clean and arrange the whole house in depth according to his specifications.

And that's when he invited my mother for dinner.

I made everything as pretty and arranged as I could. I cooked the meals she had taught me when I was little. I wore a nice sundress that she had bought me long ago. A scarf around my neck covered the shock collar locked there.

When my mother entered, she was shocked to see me like this, and to see JD's house like this. I let the two of them speak and I was mostly just serving meals and then taking away the dirty dishes. This also surprised her a lot. JD told her that I had a well-paying job now, and he returned to her all the money I had stolen. They discussed a lot about my wedding with JD. He told her in great details about the zoom call (omitting how my naked ass was tied to a chair) and showed her the "wedding pictures" they had taken of us during the call using our own camera.

After dinner, as I was accompanying my mother to the door, JD had gone to bring her some parting gift. She used this opportunity of several moments alone with me to ask me how it was for me with JD.

"He is very strict... but that's what's right for me," I answered.

She nodded, and then asked:

"It's a bit lonely for me now, with you gone. Do you think I can expect grandchildren any time soon?"