Carmen's New York Romance Trilogy

by Nikki Sex

Carmen took in a deep breath. "Yes," she said. With extensive experience in living a life of deception, Carmen forced her face into a composed, peaceful smile. "Thank you, Voula, I'm sorry to wake you. It was only a bad dream," the automatic lie flew from her lips. "I'm just fine."

  "Damn, girlfriend!" Voula said. "That must have been some dream."

  "You have no idea," Carmen said with a sad little sigh.

  4. Slave

  Carmen remained totally naked while living in the cage for four months.

  She had no calendar and simply kept track of how many times she was on her period. It had taken weeks for her back to repair. A doctor had attended her in her cage and given topical and oral antibiotics for her torn skin. She had been pretty sick for some time, and a Mexican woman unable to speak English managed her care.

  Carmen had a permanent metal cuff and a long thin chain attached to her ankle. This allowed to her to move to the bathroom if the cage door was open. A thick black leather collar was placed around her neck as a sign of his ownership.

  At first Carmen simply cried all day and all night long.

  Robert ignored her for awhile, and then he slapped and hit her, telling her "You stupid little whore, stop the racket." The basement area was a workplace for him, and she had been distracting him with "all that noise." But Carmen couldn't control her noisy sobs, so Robert gagged her.

  Much later Carmen realized that she had been having some sort of nervous breakdown. All her dreams that she had worked so hard for had come to nothing.

  It was a heavy blow.

  At first when Robert used her for sex, particularly during the crying period, he was pleased that she never became aroused or climaxed. Using lube didn't bother him, and besides, he didn’t feel she deserved orgasms until she had become more adjusted to her place.

  Robert recorded her through some hidden camera or cameras somewhere, always watching. It even could record in infra-red. Carmen only found out about the camera when she masturbated one night. Robert knew all about it in the morning and for punishment he had caned her breasts and ass.

  Jesus. That had been almost as bad as the whip. The bruising and welts lasted about ten days, but drew no blood.

  The whip had been another matter entirely.

  All in all, being Robert's slave had enlarged Carmen's experience. Feeling sorry for herself had never been useful, in fact she had always found that it only made things worse. Carmen was a practical woman, she was well aware of what her circumstances were teaching her: forbearance, patience, and how to master her own reactions and emotions for a start.

  Carmen was a positive person, and this was how she viewed her situation so that she didn’t go mad.

  Whatever doesn't kill me makes me stronger, right? she thought.

  When Carmen recovered her balance somewhat she tried numerous tactics to get Robert to free her. She became despondent, she cajoled. Yet nothing made the slightest difference to him. At the least hint of anger or unthinking words from her occasionally caustic tongue, Robert would blacken an eye.

  Carmen feared his hands and learned to instantly comply with his every demand.

  Robert's strategy was lethally effective. A raise fist worked, or a threat with more punishment from his whip always caused her to instantly buckle under.

  Her master had left her without music, or reading material or radio or TV or company from anyone except him. Robert didn't want her to be distracted, he told her. He wanted all her attention on him. With nothing to do Carmen thought she might go mad.

  Eventually Carmen convinced Robert to bring her books on Master/slave relations so that she could better serve him.

  This had turned out to be a stroke of genius on her part because it was how she learned to control her own mental and emotional state. Carmen realized that she had to act like the perfect slave in order to survive. However, to act like the perfect slave, she had to be the perfect slave.

  Discovering the Master/slave sub-culture was eye-opening.

  From all her reading she figured out that Top/Bottom play was about the sexual self. Dominant/submissive play was about the sexual and psychological self – particularly as it related to power transfer.

  Master/slave relationships were about the spiritual self.

  The idea of being submissive wasn't a foreign concept, of course. Carmen loved submitting already. She fantasized about it, she masturbated to it, and regularly dreamed about being used for a dominant's pleasure.

  Yet a slave was far beyond a submissive. A 24/7 slave was said to be born with a hunger to serve. Everything a slave did: Eating, sleeping, working and so on was done with the master in mind. To a slave a sense of self was fulfilled through obedience and service to another. It was kind of like a form of worship.

  Willing slavery was a life of devotion, in a weird way it was not unlike a nun in the service of God. Except of course, within a Master/slave dynamic, a slave served though sex, too.

  For some bizarre reason, Carmen really "got" the whole concept.

  When she was thirteen and regularly attended a church group Carmen had "let Jesus into her heart." Growing up in a gang environment, Carmen endured a barely functional alcoholic mother, and a selfish manipulative older brother. To say her life was difficult was an understatement.

  Once she had given herself over to Jesus however, she felt so much better. Everything that happened was his will. Everything she did was for him. All problems and responsibilities she gave to her Lord.

  The relief of giving up her burdens was astonishing. Carmen had never experienced such happiness.

  Unfortunately this wonderful state of mind lasted right up until she was sent to juvenile detention at fourteen years old for a crime she hadn't committed. At that point Carmen stopped leaving everything in God's hands, and became even more self-reliant. "God helps those who help themselves," was her philosophy from then on.

  Yet because of her past religious experiences and her own nature, she found that she was able to become a good slave to Robert.

  Carmen wondered if she was going to go to hell for thinking all these thoughts.

  At times she wondered if she was in hell already.

  The "slave heart" was a state of mind. Carmen constantly needed to focus on Robert, directing her actions toward pleasing, obeying and serving him. At first she rebelled from this, but soon was able to subdue her naturally combative spirit. At that point she yielded and simply stopped fighting. After that the slave attitude made life peaceful and mostly effortless.

  Daily mindful slave thoughts and actions were a kind of meditation.

  Slaves served with serenity, grace and elegance. Thus Carmen practiced standing, walking and getting up or sitting in a manner that would please. She took care with her skin, kept herself hair free on legs and her pubic area, as this was the way her Master liked it.

  Speaking calmly, with consideration, Carmen learned how to control her thoughts and emotions through breathing and concentrating fully upon her master.

  Pretending Robert was the perfect master, a man she respected and adored was a conscious decision.

  I live to obey, she reminded herself constantly. I live to serve my master.

  Most of the time this mantra worked.

  5. Self-Training

  Carmen was only allowed books that related to her slave state: all sexual manuals were allowed, handbooks for the female slave, meditation practices, deportment, or "Ladies Finishing School" information.

  While learning slave skills kept her from complete boredom or depression, regrettably she was unable to occupy herself with the wide-ranging ongoing work that most household slaves attended. Carmen's world encompassed only as far as her chain extended. Thus cleaning and sex on demand was the scope of her duties.

  The basement was immaculate.

  With another stroke of genius, Carmen asked her master if she could have music and DVD's in order to learn how to dance and please him. Thus she was able to have music in her life again. Carmen taught hers
elf to belly dance, pole dance, lap dance and strip tease.

  Of course Robert had to provide her clothes for the last one.

  Naked, Carmen would kneel, with her feet crossed behind her and sit upon her heels. Her back and shoulders would be straight, her chest out, stomach in and head up with eyes averted. Legs apart and spread wide, hands upon her thighs palms upward.

  This was her submissive pose for Robert, and it was also like meditation, where she could get her mind focused toward obedience and service.

  All choices were no longer hers and just like when she was an adolescent and let Jesus into her heart, submitting her total will to her Master did give meaning to her life. When Carmen focused on his needs her mind and emotions became still and calm.

  The more obedient, compliant and willing Carmen was – the happier Robert became. In a weird, sadistic, obsessive and possessive way, Carmen knew that Robert did care for her, but he didn't know her.

  At one time Carmen had thought she loved him.

  Now, heavily hidden back of her mind, Carmen seriously considered the real prospect of killing him. The fury she had buried deep inside made the concept of strangling him with her own chain a promising possibility.

  Robert had been the first man to help Carmen discover her submissive nature. As a Dom, when he had been carefully coaxing and cultivating her to become his slave, he had been fantastic.

  Now, as her master, he was a self-absorbed shithead.

  Before Robert, Carmen had only known a few short term lovers, and while she had enjoyed sex, masturbating was easier, more fun and less problematic. Carmen had a chronic habit of self-abuse ever since her older brother had introduced her to masturbation at the age of six.

  Her brother, Carlos, had also made a good living by getting her to give his friends blow jobs for money from her age of six to eleven. These extracurricular events had ceased when Carmen defied her brother's admonitions of secrecy and mentioned her oral activities to her grandmother.

  Carlos had made the whole masturbation and blow job thing enjoyable, and as Carmen was in awe of her older brother, it had been like a game. Carlos made her laugh and gave her candy and told her not to tell anyone. How was she to know what he was doing was wrong?

  That had been her introduction to sex.

  At least Carlos had made it fun. Now, as a slave, Carmen wasn't having a lot of fun, but she wasn't unhappy. Her every action was a devotion or meditation toward the service of her master.

  "Master if it pleases you," and, "Master I am yours" or "Master I belong to you," were common phrases. Once she gave in to her slavery, Robert began to trust her more, and treat her better. Sex became something to look forward to.

  While embracing slave hood with one part of her psyche, Carmen constantly sought escape with the other. Carmen knew how to break her chain, yet there was no point breaking the chain and running. How could she get away without money? Plans constantly formed in the back of her mind.

  Robert had two safes near his desk, and Carmen learned the combination to open both of them. One safe had cash, the other had the ledger.

  Robert was rich through property development. This was the white collar front in which he laundered drug money for the Mex Mafia, La eMe. He had a ledger of accounting of the drug operation, his extortions and so on. Robert had to co-ordinate and be accountable for anything he was doing.

  Carmen decided that when she ran she would take as much money as possible from his safe, and also take the La eMe ledger. This she could use for leverage, FedEx'ing the original back to him. And that was what she did when she finally did get away.

  For the last few months since her escape from captivity, Carmen had made a study of those who were imprisoned, trying to understand her coping mechanisms and attempting to make sense of her experiences.

  She read of Nelson Mandela, and adored the poem by W.E. Henley. Henley had been imprisoned by his body through illness when he wrote her favorite poem "Invictus" a Latin word meaning undefeated. Carmen had memorized it.

  "Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

  I thank whatever gods may be, For my unconquerable soul.

  In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud,

  Under the bludgeoning of chance, My head is bloody, but unbowed.

  Beyond this place of wrath and tears, Looms but the horror of the shade,

  And yet the menace of the years, Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

  It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll,

  I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul."

  Now that she had escaped, Carmen was still violently afraid of a whipping, or of being chained up and having her free will taken away. A raised hand still could make her flinch. It was likely that she would probably always have these fears.

  Except when I was with Kurt, she thought. I felt safe with him.

  Once more Carmen considered calling him, and once more rejected the idea. What if she told him about Robert and he despised her?

  Besides it wouldn’t be fair to bring all my shit down on Kurt, she thought, justifying her choice not to call him, despite his letter begging her to do just that.

  6. Fantasy

  Voula went to work, and Carmen, who had just lost her job, decided to lay back and simply get more sleep, or maybe think of Kurt a little. Fantasizing about Kurt was fast becoming one of her favorite things.

  Carmen remembered the first moment that she had seen him standing in the living area of the Ritz-Carlton parkview suite. The green-eyed, blond-haired hunk was muscular, solid and much taller than she was. Carmen had felt as if she had walked in on 'Thor the God of Thunder.' Her impression had been one of unrestrained power and menace. Initially he had appeared firm-lipped and furious, and her pulse had instantly quickened.

  Carmen had been frightened by the dangerous look he gave her – not to mention the threatening aspect of his manner. Now just the thought of him made her instantly wet.

  The erotic memories of Kurt were so real it was as if they had been tattooed on her retinas: The way he took charge of her, the commanding, seductive words he used, the skilled play of his hands on her nipples and her sex. Not to mention that devil-blessed tongue of his and his beautiful insatiable cock.

  Yet Kurt had been funny, too. Who wouldn't love a man like him? What had he said?

  "Mmmm I like the sounds you're making," he had murmured in a honeyed whisper, his breath tickling her ear. "I just bet that you're a screamer. Should I have brought earplugs?"

  If she hadn't been on the cusp of orgasm at the time she would have laughed her ass off. Kurt was gorgeous, attentive, and had given her the best sex she had ever had. Could the timing have been more perfect? Carmen had really needed frivolous, uncomplicated fun in her life.

  Kurt had genuinely liked her, too. Carmen recalled the soft, sexy tone of his voice when he had said: "You have no idea, do you? How much that I want you? Let's just say that I'm really glad you're here, Carmen."

  Whew. That Kurt. What a hottie.

  Thinking of Kurt, remembering him, Carmen spread her legs and began to masturbate. Her fingers knew exactly what to do as she stroked herself, and her juices began to flow. Carmen never used a vibrator. Hypersexual and constantly horny, she honestly didn’t need one.

  It had been difficult to climax when she was a slave initially, because she hated the fact that Robert had enslaved her. Later she climaxed on his command because he owned her, yet her orgasms lacked a facet of joy and silly fun. It had been dangerous to let loose and uninhibitedly be herself with Robert.

  That hadn't been the case with Kurt.

  Without warning, a visceral memory of Kurt licking and sucking her flew into to her mind, the sight, sound and feel of him. Her womb clenched.

  The sensation of my swollen clit throbbing after he bit it. Him soothing my abused nub with his soft tongue stroking, licking, and suckling my flesh. His growl: "You tast
e so fucking sweet." Lapping along my slit, tantalizingly dipping from time to time deep into my empty hole – Jesus Thor had been incredible.

  Carmen's fingers worked faster. Her back arched her heels hard on the mattress as her pelvis tilted and she spread her legs wide to receive his imaginary cock. She trembled as her whole body was bombarded with erotic sexual stimulation.

  Oh God! His dominant authoritative commands, the sound of his voice, and the words he said to me, "I'm going to eat you right out." Holy shit, could anything have turned me on more?

  Sex with the beautiful 'God of Thunderous Orgasms' had been fantastic. Jesus, how great a fuck was he? I loved the sight of his thickly veined erection and his big heavy balls. The sensation of his hot shaft rubbing against my entrance. Kurt teasing me, making me beg before giving me what I craved. What we both longed for.

  Carmen licked her lips, her breath ragged. I loved the feel of him as he entered, filling me so completely. That amazing stretching, over full sensation.

  Thor furiously hammering into me fast and deep. The coarse hair of his pubic area grazing my swollen, hypersensitive clit. My legs split wide apart, one up over his shoulder. My entire body jerking with each savage thrust.

  Thor taking just what he wanted.

  Carmen experienced a fierce pre-orgasmic pulse at the idea of Kurt using her body for his pleasure. Taking her. She could have climaxed then, but held back. Carmen drew it out, wanting to keep thinking of him.

  Thor took me and used me exactly as he wanted, holding nothing of his own desire back. Yet his attention had always been locked on my needs, too.

  What was that? That perfect joining? It was more than Dom and sub, and different than Master and slave. Perhaps it was the most basic need of all, the simple delight of man and woman naturally enjoying each other?

  Carmen shut her eyes, as her fingers working faster. Her orgasm was building again, she was very close.

  His teeth biting and pulling my aching, tender nipples. Me sweating and panting as my heart pounded. Kurt continuing to hammer me, and then him shifting slightly, hitting that particular spot deep inside.