Redemption 5

 

Being chained prevented me to go to the bathroom when I needed to. As the readers of this account know I have a small bladder and need to go frequently to the toilet. At first I just peed on the floor but after Lewis had slipped on it he gave me a bucket. When it was full I went back to peeing on the floor. At night I wore plastic pants and cloth diapers that I hung to dry without washing in our living space.

 …………………

 You will find the preceding chapters of this story in “categories” under “Redemption”, with the different chapters in reversed order. To find the first chapter you just have to scroll down to the bottom.

 

Chapter 5

 

When I arrived at the warehouse the door was still locked but the truck was parked in the courtyard so I knew that Lewis was still asleep. I was impatient to fall in his arms but at the same time very unsure about how he was going to receive me after all that time. I didn’t dare to wake him up and waited sitting on the floor next to the door. When he finally came out and saw me sitting there he looked first unbelieving and then took me in his arms and covered me with kisses.

He took me inside and we made love in the most passionate and tender way ever. Afterwards I had to tell him where I had been that whole year. When I told him I had been with Alistair he looked again unbelievingly and then a shadow passed over his face: “You were with that creep all the time?”

I understood he was jealous and that made me happy, but on the other hand I didn’t think it was fair for him to criticize me. So I answered defensively that at least Alistair didn’t beat me up. His eyes became all small and mean: “Why did you come back then?” I understood I had to back off and told him I loved him and had missed him all the time. He gave me another angry look and answered that considering I had been gone for almost a year it didn’t seem to him I had missed him that much. Before I could answer he stood up and left me alone, crying softly.

I waited for him all day and when he finally got home I wanted to fling me in his arms but he held me off and had me sit down to listen to what he had to tell me. I knew he had been drinking but in general that soothed him so I wasn’t afraid.

Going straight to what he had in mind he told me he couldn’t stand the idea I could disappear another time, he couldn’t support that hurt again. He looked me in me eyes and asked me if I understood that. I cast my eyes down and whispered I understood and I promised I wouldn’t hurt him ever again. He put his hand under my chin and pushing my head up forcing me to look at him, he told me I had made that promise before. Tearfully I said I knew but that I had learned my lesson, and that I was never ever going to leave him again. He looked at me sadly: “Listen Kiddy, this time I will make sure you keep your promise. I’m going to have to chain you. You understand I have to do that, don’t you? It is also for your own good, to prevent you from running off with another junkie or sick creep.” Tears running down my cheeks I whispered I understood.

He went outside and came back carrying a heavy chain of which he fastened one side to my ankle with the help of a pair of handcuffs and the other side was fixed to a pillar with a padlock. When he made me stand up and walk to see how far I could get, I looked at him my eyes filled with tears. This was not the homecoming I had expected.

But I wasn’t angry. I understood his reasons and agreed it was entirely my fault, and that indeed it was for my own good. Even later when the beatings had resumed, and I would be lying on my mattress all bruised and hurt, I would think I was lucky to be chained, preventing me from running away again.

But that was later. At first, after our initial mutual deception, we were extremely happy to be together again, and we resumed our lives as if it had never been interrupted. We went back to the old routine but with the difference that whenever Lewis left he attached me with the chain. At night too when we went to bed I usually was chained, except when Lewis was too stoned to remember.

Right from the second day after my return Lewis brought in clients for me again. I understood we needed the money and thought this was quit normal. Sometimes they would be surprised by me being chained but as our clientele was quiet marginal they didn’t care. And some obviously got excited by making love with a whore on a chain.

Being chained prevented me to go out for a walk from time to time as I used to do. But having been locked up for almost a year in Alistair’s house I had gotten used to that. It also prevented me to go to the bathroom when I needed to. As the readers of this account know I have a small bladder and need to go frequently to the toilet. At first I just peed on the floor but after Lewis had slipped on it he gave me a bucket. When it was full I went back to peeing on the floor. At night I wore plastic pants and cloth diapers that I hung to dry without washing in our living space. Of course the whole place must have stunk horribly of piss but we were so used to it that we hardly noticed.

But when clients began making remarks about it and some left without having used my services I realized we should do something. We were still happily in our “second honeymoon” which energized us enough to plan to change our live. We agreed that the most urgent thing to do was to get out of the warehouse and find more acceptable housing. We visited a couple of “bourgeois” apartments. At first we found the thought of us living in such a place hilarious. For one we couldn’t afford it of course. But after a while Lewis began calculating: if I took 2 or 3 clients a day and, receiving them in a nicer environment, have them pay normal prices, this would largely pay for any apartment we had visited.

Soon afterwards we moved into our small furnished apartment and even had fun getting installed as if we were just a normal recent married couple. Living in a clean, light place, where I had access to the toilet even when I was chained, made such a difference.

Our “business venture” however had a very slow start as Lewis had trouble recruiting less marginal clients. He had bought me a number of garments in line with my new status as a professional hooker: leather micro skirts, fishnet stockings, high heels, corsets, garter belts…. I was still extremely slim and those outfits didn’t really come to their right but nevertheless we thought they looked sexy. He had given me a cell-phone – without call credit of course – and whenever he had recruited a client he would give me a call to tell me the codename of the client, that the client had to give when ringing at my door, and specify what had been agreed upon. But each time when I opened the door and they noticed I was chained to the radiator they got worried. Even when I insisted I was alright with that, they remained suspicious. Most of them didn’t come back.

Our happy bourgeois live didn’t last very long. Lewis wasn’t recruiting quiet enough clients, and when those he did find didn’t come back I would get the fault for that. We went hungry again, and were building up debt very fast, as I spend most of my time alone, watching television waiting for Lewis’ calls. Of course that put again huge pressure on our relationship. That’s when the beating and mistreatment resumed. He would yell at me that I wasn’t even capable to be a whore. Thinking my anorexic, breast-less, match-stick figure was at fault I apologized.

One day Lewis called to tell me that at the end of the afternoon a client codenamed Sugardaddy would come and that they had agreed he could spend a couple of hours with me. Asked if they had agreed on any specific services Lewis answered “Just the usual stuff”. When I opened the door I had the surprise of my life seeing Alistair grinning at me: “Hey baby, you don’t seem to be happy to see daddy?”

For a moment I hesitated between slamming the door in his face and beginning to cry. How could Lewis do that me? Tears welling up in my eyes I opened the door completely. Alistair, with a hypocritical smile, took me by the hand and led me inside. He immediately noticed the chain of course: “Ha-ha, I see Lewis makes sure you won’t run away again. Beginning to know you, isn’t he?” He paused a second, looking me up and down, before exclaiming: “But baby what are you wearing?!” Based on his codename I had dressed in a white baby-doll dress and a white garter belt with the suspenders dangling from it but without stockings. “You see what happens to you when you run away from daddy? My little girl becomes a whore! You should be ashamed. You know you deserve a spanking, don’t you?”

Frightened I looked at him: “Please, no Alistair, please don’t hurt me!” But I knew of course this was to no avail. He had me take off the garter belt and stockings and making me sit on my knees in front of the coach with my face buried in the cushions proceeded to give me a hard spanking. First with his bare hands and when they began to hurt he continued with a wooden spoon he had found in the kitchen.

When he was finally satisfied he led me to the bed and soothingly told me he was going to take care of his little baby. Opening the large backpack he had brought, he first wiped the tears from my face and then proceeded to diaper me. He had brought a very thick disposable diaper, extra pads, and large plastic pants that closed with buttons on the side. When he was ready he helped me on my feet and I had to walk with my legs wide open, waggling like a duck.

As he had never diapered me in such a way before I was surprised but thinking it was funny I gave him a little smile. He didn’t seem amused however: “Since when do little babies walk? On your knees and crawl!“ Again he surprised me but I did immediately what he asked. He made me follow him on all fours, sat down in the coach, opened his pants and made me give him a pipe job. All the while I was sucking he repeated how much his little baby liked that, until he finally came and I got all his juice in my mouth.

Swiping my mouth clean while he was still gasping with pleasure I hoped this would be the end, but no, he wasn’t finished yet. When he had recovered he went to the kitchen, fetched a large bottle of water which he put to my lips and made me empty almost without interrupting. When I had finished the bottle he went to his backpack taking out a rag-doll and a children’s book. I had to sit between his legs on the couch, holding the doll, and read aloud from the book.

I am still ashamed to admit it but at the time I was almost a functional analphabet. Even reading a children’s book demanded my complete concentration and I would still stumble over many words. Each time that happened he would make me repeat the whole phrase until I got it right. A real ordeal. After a while he asked if I wanted him to continue reading the rest of the book. Relieved that I could stop reading I accepted immediately, but he made me plead for it. I had to ask him 2 or 3 times if he would “please read for me from my book” before he finally accepted. He put my thumb in my mouth, and had me rest my head on his chest, while he began reading slowly. Every so often he would suggest I take over, and I knew I had to plead for him to continue. That’s when he insisted for the first time I call him Daddy: “No please daddy, you continue!”

And of course the water did his work and I had to relieve my bladder. He was holding his hand on my crotch and immediately felt the heaviness. He stopped reading and scolded me: “Come on Katie, don’t tell me you are  wetting your diapers?” He did as if he was disgusted and made me sit on the floor. Of course I knew he had wanted me to wet my diapers but still I felt horribly ashamed.

When Lewis came home I was still sitting on the floor in my wet diapers, underneath the baby-doll dress, holding the rag-doll in my hand, silently weeping.

Looking very concerned and guilty he took me in his arms. Sobbing very hard I asked how he could have done that to me. He pressed me to his chest and promised he would never let Alistair come back.

But not much later Alistair became one of our regular clients. We simply needed the money.

I soon understood that Alistair’s motivation was not only to satisfy his surrogate pedophile fantasies but also to take revenge. He was taking revenge on me for having left him to go back to whoring for Lewis. He never failed to notice the new bruises when Lewis had beaten me, and would make nasty remarks about how great my life was with my loving fiancé.

More than ever he humiliated me, always putting me in very thick diapers and plastic pants, and making me crawl on all fours all the time. When I tried to refuse he would laugh and ask what I thought Lewis would say when he reclaimed his money. Or, worse, he would hand me some pills, telling me in a conspiring voice not to say anything to Lewis. I always let me be tempted by the drugs and did whatever he asked, hating myself for it.

I hated following him around the apartment crawling on all fours but preferred that to sitting next to him sucking my thumb and having to read children’s books out loud word for word, or having to play with dolls as he watched.

I craved the days Alistair didn’t come. I loved to dress in a sexy corset and garter belt and see that I could turn on normal men too. I had learned to imitate an orgasm in a convincing way, but sometimes I even didn’t have to fake, as I began finding pleasure in making love with some of my clients. But I only very seldom had other clients, and I spend most days chained to the radiator watching television from morning to night.

Helped by the pills I began accepting that “easy life”, even thinking it wasn’t so bad. Thanks to Alistair the financial situation had become somewhat less dramatic and Lewis was a lot less stressed, which meant that the beatings had become quiet rare. And compared to the piss stinking squalor of the warehouse out little apartment could be considered as being luxurious.

Of course the days were long and I was often bored by the television. That’s when I began playing with my dolls when I was alone. Over time Alistair had brought me a large collection of dolls and accessories. Sometimes I would play a whole afternoon with my Barbie’s. Each time when Lewis found out he would freak out, but that didn’t prevent me from doing it again a couple of days later.

Sometimes, when Lewis was in good mood, he would take me out for dinner or other outings. On those occasions I loved to dress in black gothic fashion, with short skirts or shorts, and lacy black stockings in heavy leather boots. I had several piercings in my eye lobs and lips – which I always had to take off when Alistair came – and wore blue lip-stick and very heavy make-up. My fingernails were painted blue too and I had several blue shrieks in my short hair. The look was completed by a dog collar with a leash attached to it that hung over my flat chest. Being tall and extremely thin my whole appearance attracted a lot of attention of course. People would stop and turn around to gaze at me. I secretly loved to provoke the good people this way. But what really made me feel good was the fact that Lewis would be walking proudly next to me, sometime grabbing the leash as if to indicate his proud ownership.

But this was exceptional. Most of my days I passed either in solitude or with Alistair. Little by little it became too much and I decided to escape again. But this time it was more complicated. In the first place Lewis never left home without chaining me, and the same happened every night when we went to sleep. Secondly I had to find a place to go to where I would not fall in the hands of another predator or creep. For many months I didn’t see a solution and fell into a fatalistic vision that I would crawl on all fours and play with my dollies for the rest of my life. But then one day, leafing through a magazine Lewis had brought home, my eye fell on an add for a shelter for mistreated woman. It mentioned no address, only a website and a phone number. As I didn’t have access to either phone or internet I hided the add and began waiting for the opportunity to get out.

It was as if Lewis felt that I was planning to leave because he kept me now on the chain almost permanently. Only when I asked to take a shower would he take it off. I began asking to do that at night just before going to sleep. But to my disappointment every time I got out of the shower he would put the chain back on, even if he was already half asleep. But one night my patience was rewarded. He had been quiet drunk when I asked to go to the shower and when I got out he was sound asleep. I waited without moving for half an hour. Reassured by his heavy snoring I dressed, packed a very light bag, stole a couple of coins from Lewis pocket, and silently left the apartment.

I walked towards the other side of town where I hid in a portal for the rest of the night. At 6 o’ clock I went to a station where I found a telephone booth and I began calling the shelter. Finally at 8 am I got someone on the line. Explaining that I had managed to escape from my man because last night he had forgotten to fasten my chain, that he was surely looking for me all over town, and that I had just one coin left, they gave me an address to meet up.

One week before my 18th birthday I was out of the hands of Lewis and Alistair. Ready to start my life.

Next chapter: https://clairodon.wordpress.com/2012/06/06/redemption-6/

 

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