”Breakfast was delicious and Kerry didn’t burn my toast or eggs. When I teased her about it, she smiled and said, “I can cook very well when I’m not being yelled at or in fear of getting a beating for something stupid. Can we go get my stuff as soon as I do the dishes?”“Kerry, just rinse them off and put them in the dishwasher. Let the machine do the work for you. Then we can go get your stuff. Would you like to stop at my lawyer’s office on the way home?”“Yes, I think I would. I can’t wait until that asshole is in front of a judge.”Within the hour, Kerry and I had loaded my pickup with all of her personal things from her old home. We were about ready to leave when, suddenly, Kerry turned and ran back to the bathroom. There she dug under a big pile of towels and pulled out her birh control pills. Smiling broadly, she popped one into her mouth and said, “I sure can’t forget these. I know you don’t want to knock me up right away.”I grinned at her. “No, not right away. If you’re ready to. I sucked him even though my throat was sore, even though my tongue was tired, even though the rough wood dug into my side and I wanted to cry. I tried to be a good slave and do what I was supposed to. I heard happiness in his voice and I knew I was doing well. I’d learned the signs to watch out for since this became my life. If master did most of the talking, if I could feel tension in his thighs and hear it in his voice, then I knew I wasn’t doing well enough. But if master let the other person do most of the speaking, if he was relaxed in the chair and I could here smugness in his voice, then I was doing my job right.I always half-listened to his conversations. Not to eavesdrop, but because sometimes I had to stop in a hurry. Sometimes he stood up. These were the times I dreaded because it was so hard to get his pants done up quickly without making any sound.I was just dreaming about the feeling of master’s fingers inside me, teasing me, making me beg him for permission to come.
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