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>> Another story by Amanda Serve
WWW.CHATROPOLIS.COM - 1
by Amanda Serve
This story is both true and at the same time a work of fiction. I say this
because elements of my own life are so intertwined here. I have written
fiction before, and thats what inspired me to finally live out some of my
personal demons. As a result, I've met some really interesting people in the
"Life" and so I've written this story mixing elements of them into the final
result. I've changed the names as they say to "protect the innocent" (and
the perverted). I've also summarized and cut out some of the mundane
details, but I have tried to keep my experiences and observations
essentially pure, even if they did not "Add to the story" or sound
glamorous. Make no mistake, slavery is not as glamorous as most fiction or
drawings would have you believe. If you look really closely at the photos of
the non-models who live this 24/7, the kinds whose husbands are their
masters, you can see a real feeling of slavery. You can see it all in our
eyes. But only if you know what to look for.
AS this story involves real people and acts that may actually be of
questionable morality or even legality. I will go on record as stating it is
entirely a work of fiction and that you should not try this at home. :) Also
you should not read it if you are not 18 or mentally unstable.
PART ONE:
The package read "Sans Somnolence", I fingered it in my hand thought "wow,
they have Claritin in Canada over the counter!" as I considered the package
written in French for my allergies, I put it back in the Air Port Store. I
was waiting to meet what was going to be my new Master and my stomach was
turning loops with anticipation. I am sure it would be overstepping my
bounds to buy the stuff, because for all I knew he could consider allergy
medicine a "privilege".
I wanted to have a cigarette but these damned Air ports were all smoke free
these days, and I definitely knew that smoking would be a privilege where I
was going. I was trying to get my mind off my worries. "Was this all BS?" I
thought to myself. Wondering if perhaps no one was going to show up to pick
me up. Maybe I had been scammed by a clever man with too much time on his
hands and this trip was for nothing?
No, I had been too careful, talking to him and his other slaves on the phone
after getting to know them on a chat site. Thinking about
www.chatropolis.com made me think about all the events that had led up to
right now. I guess I should summarize them for you, because otherwise you'll
be reading endlessly boring chat transcripts about what is usually a very
frustrating experience. Why and how I became who I am though, really begins
and ends with my history.
I was the eldest girl of three brothers and two other sisters. We grew up
basic poor white trash in the 1980s. I was always the toughest of my
sisters, having dealt with Indian arm burns, noogies, wedgies, underwear
pulled over my head while they throw you to the ground and give you pink
belly or try to pretend they are "Jerry Lawler" or "Dusty the American
Dream" or whatever. I think my brothers have a lot to do with making me who
I am, because while there was NEVER a hint of incest, at least not what I
had come to think incest was, there was a lot of cruel older brother pranks,
that made me be sort of tough and intimidating or get walked on. I became
the defender of my younger sisters.
My sisters and I had our share of squabbles too, when Kim got a bike for her
birthday, I pulled out the little frilly things in the handle bars I was so
mad. my pale skin would turn blood red with anger and stubbornness when I
was a kid, yeah I was what you might call "High Strung". However, this
served me well growing up. I got my way more often than not, and I got
respect from my brothers and men who eventually found their way into my
life.
Now to go back to the incest thing, again there was never a condition of
rape or consensual sex between my brothers and me, but in a family of that
many with so many step dads and us moving around, well for the longest time
we all bathed together. You don't run 6 separate baths when you have six
kids, and as the boys were ALL older than us, there was definitely overlap
when they were getting their jollies out of bathing with us. In fact, to be
honest there was never a time when I they didn't discuss boobies, or butts
or whatever. I figured all young guys were dogs like them. We did eventually
get it to where the girls bathed first and then the boys rotated in
afterwards, but up until I was about 9 we just all got in about 2-3 kids at
a time. This is all perfectly natural, and really there is no harm if they
DID get their curiosity piqued by this. Its all part of natural discovery of
growing up.
There were other things too, for instance I know they used to all share the
same bedroom and tease each other about getting caught "jerking off" to our
step-dad's "Oui" magazine, which they were convinced was pronounced "ow-ee"
like when you got punched in the arm, and every time they mentioned it, they
would try to frogger punch someone and put on a sort of accent and say
"ow-ee". I tried to tell them once that it was "wee" like yes in french, but
they called me miss-priss and basically ran me off. I guess I had a
reputation as a know-it-all amongst my many um, "facets"?
They used to have problems with wetting the bed, and I know a couple times
Terry one of my brothers threw his underwear up on the roof because he had
shit his pants. He denied how it got up there, but as the stuff eventually
began to really stank I think my step-dad at that time had held him by one
ankle and thrown him into a wall. So while they may have been rough on their
sisters and each other, there was nothing compared to some of the treatment
by the step-dads.
Well in all fairness, that kind of reaction might be expected of men who
weren't too smart, and under a lot of pressure in a dead end job with kids
to raise that weren't there own, especially six of them! consider as well
that if they got a "spanking" my brothers prided themselves on laughing
about it while they got the spanking even if it was a belt or wooden paddle
so there was no traditional forms of grounding or punishment that really
seemed to phase them. If you want a mental image, I hate to take something
from Joe Dirt, but everything except for the mullet wig. Yep, a red Football
jersey half-shirt with the words "Skyrnd" across the back and "01" on the
front. You know the kind with little holes in the fabric? picture basic
white trash in one of those and a 85 Camaro blasting out "Hot Blooded" by
Foreigner, and you will get a good visualization of my brothers both then
and to this day. Well they each have their own unique style, one is more
into rap and smokes crack now, while the other works construction and spends
his money on beer. They each have been in and out of jail and none of them
can keep a girl or an apartment.
When I think about my past, so much of it seems like Jerry Springer
material, or that if I had been aware of my interests later in life, things
would have been more "interesting". But one story just springs to mind. I
remember one of my brothers got caught jerking off, when he was probably
about 13 or 14. My step dad at the time, brought him out of the bathroom by
his ear, and from what I understand, he had to sit there in front of company
and everything with his pants around his ankles and he or someone had
painted his balls with my moms nail polish a bright red. us girls did not
see, its amazing what you remember as sort of a funny and humiliating
punishment, and now see the BDSM connotations. Anyway, this is actually one
of those things that after the initial sarcasm from all of us, Danny beat
the hell out of Terry and no one ever spoke of it again.
We sisters faired not too much better really. I had never been one who was
particularly shy with my body, but I Was actually a virgin until I was 19.
Still we had done "Truth or Dare" games like where you may have to run to
the fence and back naked. and I remember then that feeling of adrenalin as
you don't know if you are going to get caught. Getting caught by a stranger
wouldn't be so bad, as the fear you got from getting caught by someone you
know who isn't aware you are playing the game. Here we might have all six of
us and one or two other neighbor kids over and I had my bare ass sitting in
our room, basically too proud to even admit this bothered me. not really
even aware of the fact that my body was developing, but my big concern as I
looked out the window was with my step dad or my mom come driving home while
I be at the mail box half way through the mad-dash of my dare. Those games
meant nothing to me at the time, and growing up were never really part of
what made up who I felt I "was", but later in life they would provide some
context for what I would become. Thats why I told you about them.
As well, my brothers idea of a prank might be to come running into the
bathroom while you were in there and yell "EEEE-EWWW who farted!" and then
slam the door. Or if you didn't get yourself flushed all the way to come in
and tell everyone "Come and look at Kims poop, its all small and all!". At
the time, I would have assumed thats the nature of boys, I certainly had
nothing else to use as comparison. I definitely was surprised when I got on
the internet and discovered that peeing, pooping, farting, almost anything
was a kink of some kind. A "Fetish".
I kind of developed the theory that no matter how dark and twisted, or how
weird and loopy you might think your fantasy or experience is, there is
probably a website devoted to it on the web, and they have taken your kink
and broken it out into subcategories and organized it into groups and so
forth. I came to learn that everything from women itching because they have
ants in their pants to fucking a vacuum cleaner to having sex with barnyard
animals was not only photographs, drawings, stories, chatsites on the web,
but that instead of just "models" doing this for crack money because they
had nothing else, there were people proud to live a lifestyle devoted to
these kinks.
Anyway, now I am getting ahead of myself, the thing about us, is none of us
girl or boy graduated high school except for my youngest sister Ash. It
didn't do any good, Kim went on to become a countrified wife to a guy named
"Jesse" and their son "Jesse James" was calling her a motherfucker when he
was five and she was already a single mom. She was the first of us to have a
child.
I went on to become a titty dancer and I got really into Alice in Chains and
the lifestyle of a dancer in Memphis Tennesee. My youngest was still at home
when I finally moved out, but eventually one by one, I convinced all three
of them to come work at the same club with me. I had told my mom that we
were cocktail waitresses, but in retrospect how could she not have known?
denial? what did it really matter what we were?
Well back then, I can tell you I was not the same as I am now. No, I was
proud, willful, and full of fire. Well I guess there are elements of me that
are still the same, I am after all a Taurus. Still, I had no idea about
kinks or what I was eventually going to feel inside like I did while I sat
pondering everything in that Canadian Airport.
I was basically the Queen Bee of the little dumpy club I worked at. I could
show up late and I could put my finger in the face of my boss and tell him
off. In fact, I could usually get anyone fired that was salaried and people
liked to refer to me as the "HR" of the club, because if I didn't like
someone they were gone. Thats because I was pretty damned good looking back
then and dressed like an angel, I was about the best draw that little dirty
beer joint had on a regular basis. They were willing to put up with me,
because I stood out amongst the dumpy little trailer trash and black girls
they had working there.
I had always set the trends. Girls would try to dance to my music, the would
try to wear the kinds of outfits I did. Even the way I would sort of prance
(instead of jerk around and dance or pretzel myself like some of these
freaks) on stage was copied by almost everyone including my sisters!
I met a lot of unsavory characters working there. A guy named "Terminator"
who simply NEVER washed his clothing and would handcuff Mexicans to the
front of the bar if they got a little too rowdy. This was the kind of bar,
where the clientelle would go ahead and walk in, even if a beat-down was
happening in the parking lot. It was not uncommen for them to leave a
customer over night chained up outside.
I met girls who had become "whores" for there husband, and even referring to
some other girl as my "wife-in-law". At the time I couldn't even conceive of
their reasons and never bothered to try to empathize with the path that got
them there. I would just laugh at the fact they now had "T B O N E" one
platinum letter for each tooth in their mouth, there pimps name marking
them.
I was the type to put my finger in a guys face, say "Want a dance fucker?"
when he naturally would either say no or be too intimidated to say no, I
would usually give him a shitty dance and then call him a "trick" because he
tipped me the bare minimum for a table dance. I had no idea what the point
of a titty bar, or that as the customer they were supposed to be made to
feel at home or anything. I really couldn't be bothered with those details,
it seemed to work that about 1 in 4 guys would say yes, just so I wouldn't
call them a "Cheap-ass motherfucker" and so why should I bother like some of
these other girls who would talk to them and be nice to them, and let them
finger them?
I was so oblivious to men's kinks that I know I kicked a few guys out of
bed, calling them homosexuals if they even tried to touch my asshole. Once I
got on the web I soon discovered that anal sex was pretty much the norm! I
was kind of embarrassed about that. But going back to the club, I used to
shave my pussy (because we wore g-strings) and wear a plaid mini-skirt and
white top, and even pig tails. Then when a man called me a "School girl" I
would call him a "Perverted pedophile" and make him feel like a dumb ass. I
guess that was pretty stupid, because here I was looking like one, down to
the buckles on my saddle shoe style high heels. I just didn't realize that
was a type of kink, the whole "School girl" thing. I also didn't realize
that a shaved suzi (my word for a pussy) was only adding to the look.
I would eventually grow to draw on all my experiences there. The women who
were past their primes and living in motels with substance abuse issues, the
bikers and black men who owned women, the drug dealers who hung out there.
Then the assortment of customers who were "Regulars" who each were using the
club to try vainly to substitute for something they were lacking in their
life, either abject loneliness or a twisted perversion/porno addiction. It
was all very dysfunctional, but in those days I had really know idea that I
Was apart of this group. I just figured I was above it all.
When I got my sisters dancing, I even distanced myself from them. Kim seemed
to get into it the most, she was growing fatter and the mexican men really
liked it. She seemed to enjoy the attention and danced to country music,
which was about as unlike my interest as you could get. If a guy found out
we were sisters, and wanted us to dance together. I would call him a
"twisted motherfucker" but for sixty bucks, we'd dance next to each other. I
really didn't care.
Kim would get so drunk and lose all her money. She was very embarrassing to
me, and if she didn't lose it, she'd waste it or give it to some guy she met
after all was said and done. Heck, I made fun of her for all of this, but
the money I made I spent on foolish things too. I smoked pot, and I really
didn't think about saving the money.
When Ash came on the scene I was already something of a legend at the titty
bar, so I took her under my wings and she liked the music I liked. I really
didn't like that she got more attention than me, and I hate to admit that I
was secretly jealous. Until now, I never told anyone or wrote that I was,
but I think it was probably a little obvious. I eventually moved to another
club and distanced myself from my two "trailer park sisters" as I called
them at that time. (I was rude to everyone consistently).
My brothers each privately asked me to dance for them. I would call them out
in front of the others on it and told them they were sick. They each
pretended they had been joking to see if I would do it. I knew they would
have bought a dance though. Back then, I had no idea there was even incest
for real though. I thought it was just for molesters. It never occurred to
me back then that my brothers hanging out in the same club were sort of
strange. I just figured it was because they were cheap and this place was
the kind of dump you may actually get to have sex with one of the dancers at
the end of the night (not with me! I never did turn tricks).
I guess I could talk about this for hours and hours, and really what I am
trying to do is give you some background on me and my journey in life. I
could tell you about the old man who routinely came in and passed out while
he talked to me. I took out his wallet and removed all his money, and week
after week he returned and we repeated the same charade without him ever
daring to mention he knew I was taking his money. I could tell you about
this other sick old men who actually carried a toilet lid in his briefcase
and paid other girls to piss on his face. I called him a "piss face" and
ragged him out when he opened it in front of me, it had blown my mind that
anyone would even WANT that to happen, much less really dare ME to do it to
them.
Still there was this one girl who had this extremely long nose, who actually
seemed to enjoy it. At the time, I thought they were both fucked up. I made
excuses for people's behavior to think they were just stupid, and that I was
above it all, but in the end, I had been sucked up into the lifestyle.
In the end, what got me to quit was that I had got pregnant by this one
titty bar DJ I knew and had a brief fling with. He was sort of a poser and
definitely a loser. He was actually a secret "geek" and he had about 20 star
trek books in his apartment. Some men never grow up and refuse to even,
though he had the body of a man, the fact he owned a "Super nintendo" made
me want to puke when I found out. I could never respect a man like that
(back then).
I was sort of in denial that I was pregnant and not too sure what I was
going to do. This was my twilight period as the Queen Bee. I was still much
respected there, but Ash was definitely the new darling of management. I
think I was now cashing in on the fact that I had sort of positioned us as a
package deal. When I moved to a new club, Memphis had passed laws allowing
nudity in the club, and I had no real concern about that. I looked at it as
a way to make more money. (See when I started, It was just topless, and I
think if it HAD been nude, I would have actually been a cocktail waitress.
Its amazing how once you get used to it, you can see almost anything
nightly, and get used to it.)
But at this club, it was five dollar table dances. You could charge more in
the "Champagne room" but you would get in trouble for getting more at the
tables. Girls can be really cut throat, especially if they are jealous of
you, I'd seen a few razor blade fights between girls, and just plain old
fashioned knock down drag outs. The one thing I can say about me dancing
while I was pregnant is I didn't really show till I was 5 months pregnant,
(at least I didn't think so), and I came to start to realize that I was
feeling "ugly" and it was humiliating to be a fatty. My nose spread out
across my face, rings that I had worn could no longer be removed because my
fingers swoll up. Charging five dollars for what was turning out to be a dry
hump on a stanky couch was twice as humiliating as charging the 20+ that I
had only a few months before. I was feeling more and more like a beggar than
a sexy and powerful woman who was really in charge.
That club was even worse than the first one though. They had a dancer who
would get on stage and do an "Ice Cream Show". I would even laugh that the
ice cream was "Superbrand" (A really low grade ice cream) and she would
actually let guys eat ice cream out of her pussy with a spoon! She stunk
like shit afterwards (Ice cream isn't really as erotic as you might think
for that reason, the dairy goes sour) and I always associate the smell of
sour milk with her.
Her and whoever else she could convince to get up on stage with her, would
then proceed out back to the dumpster where the dopey door man who fell in
love with every new girl would get to hose them down naked with warm water
while they stood there in only their heels by the light of the backdoor. I
used to watch him smile as he would kink the hose and let the pressure
reduce until "Smokey" (that was her name) would let him hose her butthole or
something and then he would unkink the hose and let her get washed off
quickly. Memphis didn't get TOO cold, but I know there were times it was
cold enough to see her breath and she and the other girl were standing bare
ass out behind a club. God they must have felt stupid and humiliated?
What was worse? now that I knew what I knew, having to do something like
that, made me wet. God I hated to admit that.