Chapter One

Cynthia

 

I just had the kinkiest sex with this handsome guy named Jeremy! Let me tell you. It was incredible! Oh, by the way, in case you're interested ladies, Master Jeremy is rich, very sweet and extremely sensual. There's no ring on his finger so I'm fairly certain he's available. And his services come absolutely free.

I'm writing in this luxurious room of his Harem, full of puffy loveseats, comfy pillows and white leather couches, like a scene right out of 1001 Arabian Nights. Master Jeremy gave each of the ladies in his Harem a journal to write in. There's another woman lounging a few feet away from me, sipping on a glass of red wine and scribbling away as well. It's fun to write about my experience. It makes everything seem more real and less like I'm trapped in the imagination of some naughty man's wet dream.

I've seen three women here so far tonight, although I expect other ladies to start showing up any minute. Just like I did, they'll come to his Harem to try out an alternative lifestyle, like trying on a sexy new dress in the Express store at Montgomery Mall.

OK, I know what you're thinking now. Why would any self-respecting woman want to share a man with several other women? I'm a pitiful loser at love and Jeremy must be some kind of awful misogynist, right? An honest question, but I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth. While it may be true I'm unlucky at love and Master Jeremy is the male equivalent of a slut, I'm here to tell you he doesn't hate women at all. On the contrary, he seems to adore our femininity and our bodies, no matter how they are shaped. I mean, he even likes my fat body. Even mine... Up until tonight I wouldn't have been caught dead lying completely naked face down on a massage table, but Jeremy made me feel... attractive again. And hell yes, I'm coming back here next Friday night in case you're wondering, and I don't care if the entire Washington Redskins cheerleading squad shows up!

So this is my plan. I'm going to get back up on the treadmill every day before and after work and hit it hard. You'll see, ladies. I'm going to drop this extra weight. Then I'm going to arrange to accidentally bump into the Flaccid Bastard again. I'm going to shake my cute tight little ass, big tits and toned body in his face and shout, "You see, you fucking dick! I lived with you for three years, paying for most if not all of the bills while you pursued your ridiculous "dream" of being a singer in a rock band, you tone deaf mother-fucker, and then you have the nerve, you have the nerve to call me a fat piece of shit when we broke up! Well, see what you're missing now, asshole!" Ladies, I can't wait. I'll tell you, I think this place is going to motivate me to lose more weight than facing that embarrassing scale during check in at all those stupid Weight Watchers meetings. I'm so excited!

You should see what I'm dressed in. I have on a pretty pink baby doll camisole with a ruffled sheer top, pink thong panties, white stockings and high heels. I'm relaxing on the sofa, my little black bag within arm's reach. (More on my little black bag and its contents later!) At first I was mortified to exhibit my body like this, not so much in front of Jeremy, but in front of the catty, prying eyes of the coterie of beauties I expected to see here. Thankfully, the Goth-looking woman in the room has completely ignored me, which is fine by me. (I took a quick peek at her breasts through the sheer material of her black corset and saw two large silver rings piercing her nipples. Ouch!)

Since this is the first evening the Harem is open for business, Jeremy made me sign a legal document, agreeing to all of the terms and conditions therein, one of which has to do with parading around his house three-quarters naked in skimpy clothing. Normally I'd be ashamed to be seen reclining on a sofa in lingerie, but after what just happened between us, I feel better about my body now, so much better. And I have Master Jeremy to thank for that. As you can see, it's been a very positive experience for me, so far. There are no humiliating acts of servility thrust upon us. He doesn't ask us to feed him grapes or fan the Master of the Harem with a palm frond. Jeremy is dominant in the boudoir, but outside the bedroom, he's not an asshole. I know, quite a surprise, right? I couldn't believe it either. It's really not a bad way at all to spend a Friday night. I'm having so much fun here, girls. And I really like him. The contract I signed says I'm not allowed to let my feelings complicate our ongoing relationship. Well, contract or no contract, I like you Master Jeremy. I like you a lot. But I don't want to screw things up by getting all squishy inside. I've got a good thing going here. This shit is like therapy for me!

So, do I have your attention now? Would you like to know how we first met?