Society of Rome.
BACKGROUND
That's what they call it, Society of Rome (S.O.R.), a group of well off to
wealth individuals and/or couples that enjoy, what they call "the alternative
life style" or as my Master shortens it to "the lifestyle". I don't know if the
abbreviation S.O.R. is a cute way of what a slave (or property as they sometimes
call it) ends up or not but I'm sure that I'm not the only one who has thought
of it.
Well it's actually an exclusive and private S&M and sex organization, well
organized with rules as to conduct by both members and property, a Board of
Directors, judicial system and it even shows a profit from some of it's
activities. But I'm getting ahead of myself, I didn't know any of this when I
started my journey into the lifestyle by searching the Internet.
I'm laying in my own bed at the moment, it's early and still dark out but will
be light soon, I see slave Sandra who assisted in helping me home, is sleeping
soundly and I assume slave Mimi is in my spare room sleeping also. As my mind
clears I realize it can't be Sunday morning as we left the building where the
signing ceremony took place early Saturday morning and once home we didn't even
get into bed until that night so I'll assume it's Monday morning, at least I
hope it is. As instructed by the interview committee I arranged to be off work
on Monday and Tuesday.
How do I feel at the moment, well my skin, from my shoulder's to above my knees
front and back feels like a terrible sun burn, my nipples are sore and tender so
even the light covers laying on them feels like corse burlap instead of the
expense cotton sheets I use. The muscles of my shoulders, arms, and thighs are
so sore and stiff I'm not sure if I can actually get up without assistance and
the tendons on the inside of my thighs and calves feel stretched and are also
very sore. The palms of my hands feel sore and dry and I know they and my
knees and shins must have rug burns on them from crawling around on the carpet.
Even the bottoms of my feet feel sunburn. The signing ceremony lasted for
something like eight or ten hours including the preparation and clean up but it
feels like weeks.
My fuck hole (which is how I think of it right now after last night but at one
time I thought of it as my vagina or pussy, even cunt sounds better to me), is
exceptionally sore as is my clit. Reaching down I very gently touch my outer
lips and they feel puffy and tender and as my finger moves inside it feels like
I am rubbing sandpaper on the tender skin instead of my finger tip, even with
the coating of antibiotic cream that was used to treat the tender inner membrane
of my pussy and rectal cannel after the ceremony it still feels raw.
My whole rectal passage and ass hole have a dull throb to them and feel so
irritated that I believe I'll stay on a liquid diet for a few days (well I did
somewhat start one last night as all I had to drink was men's and women's cum,
piss, spit, water and coffee).
As I allow my hands to GENTLY touch my breasts, they feel swollen and just the
slightest touch makes me wince a bit. I'm not even going to try and touch my
nipples since just the covers irritate them just from the movement of by
breathing. The fact is they along with the rest of me just want to go back to
that deep sleep and not feel like I'm laying on fine sand paper when I know my
back is on the clean white sheets of my bed.
I'm apprehensive to get up and actually look in the mirror at what my body must
look like. I did see it last night (actually VERY early in the morning) and the
skin looked dark red with darker red lines running covering me like a railroad
map, thin and thick ones all crisscrossing my skin. I think the worst of it was
the cane and crop which left dark red ridged welts on my ass and front and backs
of my thighs. Of course the thinner ones used on my breasts were no joke either
but they didn't seem to welt up as the ones with the larger cane. I did see
some bruises starting to appear on my ass, tits and thighs last night but really
wasn't in the position to take much time to take stock of myself. When I looked
at my pussy last night it was red and swollen from use and god knows what my
poor asshole looks like at the moment but if it looks like it feels it is
swollen like a donut.
Now I suppose those reading this wonder how a well educated Jewish girl,
financially well off, a professional, raised by a father that spared no expense
in providing his only child with the best his money could buy is doing in this
condition. Not only in this condition but ASKED for it to be done to her is a
bit of a story. I'm going to relate it to you but please be patient, I started
the story somewhat in the middle so I'll go back and start from the beginning.
Some background information is probably due, since how I came to be in this
condition is what this story is all about. My name is Patricia Schaffier, age
24, a Certified Public Accountant for one of those large international
accounting firms. I'm 5-9, about 120 lbs, 36c breasts (all men ALWAYS want to
know that little piece of info, how come they never give the size of there
cock's, but then that's life). I work out regularly and was instructed from
early on in life the proper way to exercise diet. My routine is different each
day so that has me running several miles, going to the gym and working with
weights, aerobics, kick boxing, and generally staying in good physical condition
and fairly limber so my body is nice and trim, not muscular but fit.
As for my looks, I have brown eyes and hair that has just a hint of natural curl
which I keep just below my shoulders (at least for now but in the future I think
the S.O.R. wants it grown longer but they haven't told me yet). My breasts (I
forgot there tits now, the S.O.R. has rules as to how "property" can refer to
body parts, I'll try to stay consistent with how I refer to things, so
understand that I do go back in forth between the "proper" term and normal
usage) are firm with well proportioned nipples and aureoles that are somewhat
larger then a quarter which are a nice light pink color and are actually more
oval then round in shape, unless aroused when they become darker with nipples
that grow to a 1/4 of an inch. My breasts sit up high on my chest with the
nipples positioned just above center on my breasts.
My stomach is flat and firm, no rippling abs but you see that there is no excess
skin there or on my sides. My ass (proper S.O.R. term by the way) is also firm
but the flesh of my ass does have just a little bounce and jiggle to it when I
walk. My hips are wide but in proportion to the body and my legs are long with
well shaped thighs and calves, again not muscular but well defined (especially
in heels).
I don't think I'm beautiful, attractive would probably be the right term,
depending on what I'm wearing I can turn a few heads. My face is slim, with a
small slightly upturned nose, nice eye brows (I don't even need to pluck them I
always loved the fact they are shaped so nicely), and long natural lashes and,
until recently, kept my pussy hair (I've got to stop with improper words)
trimmed but now it is completely shaved as is my entire body from the neck down.
My lips are full (on my face), very kissable I've been told by several people
and I always make sure I work my upper body, no flabby under arms as you see so
many women have and good chest muscles to support my breasts.
As for my other lips, well right now I don't think I want to look at them but if
I do say so my pussy is very attractive. Take it from someone that has seen her
share of them, there are plenty of ugly pussies in the world. I mean some women
have inner lips that literally hang outside their fat thick outer ones. Others
have very dark lips and weird shaped inner lips. Women may have to go around
showing how big there tits are but thank god some of them don't have to
advertise there cunts.
My pussy when not having been used and abused as much as it was yesterday has
extremely nice outer lips, just a shade darker then my nipples, the inner ones
are quite small and the skin is a healthy pink color. When viewed it's a nice
clean slit, and my clit while sensitive and inclined to turn a dark pinkish red
when aroused is sized very nicely, growing out of it's sheath a good 1/8 inch I
would guess. I do really believe if there were contests for good looking
snatches I'd be up there with the best of them.
Normally I have a nice tan, I don't need much sun to tan, and I don't really
believe in laying out there baking my skin a dark brown, just enough to look
healthy, by the way I do live in Southern Ca. I enjoy a bit of cooking, enjoy
my work and have a good education and a family that fairly well off, mother died
when I was 3 and my father never remarried.
My life in general was one of being raised by a caring father who's business is
successful and thriving and could provide his only child with all the creature
comforts and advantages that can be bought.
My father was not on the other hand someone that spoiled his child. Sure we had
help at the house. A married couple named James and Martha Walters, they are
black and have worked as housekeeper/cook and butler/chauffeur for my father
since before I was born. To be sure they always call him Mr. Schaffier and he
referred to them as James and Martha but I was taught to always refer to them as
Mr. and Mrs. Walters and they to me as Ms. Patricia. On my twenty first
birthday Mrs. Walters informed me that I was now old enough to call her and her
husband by there given name, but I have never been able to do that and prefer
they still call me Ms. Patricia instead of Ms. Schaffier (by the way it's never
Patty or Pat, I do go by Patricia).
People might have expected me to be spoiled but my father saw to it that I
wasn't. He told me when I was little that having money doesn't make you better
then anyone else, luck and fate provided me with a family that was successful
and I didn't have anything to do with it. Using that luck properly was not
wrong, and taking advantage of it was not wrong either but to always remember
that just because someone didn't get that luck they were to be respected no
matter what social or economic level they happen to be in.
Given that attitude he had me attended public school, even though most of my
father's friends children attended private one's. He made sure I had the best
tutors he could find to educate me in areas where he felt the public schools
were deficient but public school was were I went all the way through high
school.
He worked quite a bit and traveled but always made time for me. He taught me to
play golf and I have carried a single digit handicap since I was 14 or so. He
also taught me to play tennis, to exercise properly, to respect all people and
not to be judgmental as to their personal choices in life.
He made sure I earned my allowance, my bedroom and bathroom were to be cleaned
by me not Mrs. Walters. I was in fact assigned tasks to help Mr. or Mrs.
Walters with such chores as cleaning up around the house, washing the cars, and
assisting in doing the laundry, including ironing cloths and setting and
clearing the dishes from the table. Of course what was assigned didn't take
that long but he felt I should learn to work for my money.
Most of my friends thought this was ridicules but my father's reasoning was that
he worked and paid for these people and they worked for HIM, not me, I simply
was lucky enough to be related to him.
Now I'm sure you're wondering why I'm boring you with my "wonderful" father and
family life, there is a reason for it, hang in and I think you'll find this
background makes sense.
I was brought up to respect people and to always do my best at what ever I did.
To strive to be the best at it, his favorite saying was, "you will not win all
the time, in fact in general you lose more then you win but play to win, if you
lose then at least do your best and if you did the best you could then be proud
of that, no one can ask more of you".
Now as I've said my father felt that I be educated properly and Mrs. Walters did
teach me how to cook and sew and was the one that took me shopping for cloths
buying me my first bra and teaching me to sit like a "lady" (i.e. legs and knees
together even when wearing pants) but I was growing up to be a bit of a tomboy.
Now father had great respect for Mrs. Walter's but even he knew that there were
things I should learn from somebody else and possible have a better role model
then our housekeeper. So in his straight forward thinking he needed to find
someone to educate me in the areas he felt he lacked the proper knowledge. As I
mentioned my mother died when I was 3 and as I approached the ripe old age of 13
my father realized that there were some things better left to a women to explain
to me.
