janan3s: You know what is worse than being abused? No? NOT being abused. That might seem strange but
janan3s: You know what is worse than being abused? No? NOT being abused. That might seem strange but I will explain it to you. My girlfriend has quite a bunch of girlfriends. Some still schoolgirls, some already working, like my girlfriend. Age doesn’t matter, they say. It’s who you are. I couldn’t agree more. Well, the girls have evenings, for themselves alone. No one else. Sometimes they act like they are doing kinky things then, but that’s probably just to make us curious. Last weekend I discovered the truth. Sue asked me to do something for her. I might not like it but it was important to her. I reluctantly agreed, knowing all too well that if I wouldn’t agree I would get the silent treatment for ages. And I can stand her not talking, but no sex is unbearable. When she told me she would introduce me to the girls naked my heart almost stopped beating. But she made clear there was no way back, since when I would withdraw her revenge would be more harsh than I could imagine. Her eyes made clear that she wasn’t fooling around. I guess she already told the girls that she would bring me…. My fear grew and grew becoming the week’s entertainment and when it finally was The Day I was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. At least she didn’t take me with her naked. She told me to undress when we entered the appartment. And then she opened the door and pushed me in. I saw five girls, all wearing skirts, so to make the trouble complete I would have to watch carefully where my eyes went. They never stopped their conversation, they didn’t even seem to notice someone was entering the room, yes: a naked man. Sue attached my leash, took herself a drink and joined the conversation. I kept trembling from fear but eventually I became more and more at ease. At some point I started to wonder when something was going to happen. Well, to make a long story short: nothing DID happen. Yes, every once in a while someone looked in my direction, just like they looked at the table, the wall or other dead things. And then they went on with their conversation. Where I had expected to be abused over and over again, to be played with, to be humiliated to the bone, they totally ignored me. And one starts asking question then. Am I not good enough? Are they disappointed in my body? What’s the matter with me? Like I said: not being abused can be very bad. Quite late in the evening they all went. Just like that. Sue let them out and came back with a grin like the Cheshire cat. And I understood it was a test, a game. But it was a total mystery to me what she had wanted to achieve with it. But asking was no use, she would tell me when she was ready. For that moment I just could wait and see what more she had in mind for me. Serve… -- source link