How I didn't realise it was wrong.

So up until this point I went with it willingly, believing that I should sacrifice everything to be with her and her alone. I must say that some nights are foggy, others are crystal clear. The ones I do remember involve quite severe beatings, but overall I was able to handle it.
Then in August of 2020 I landed in the hospital. After a long time alone with M I was terrified of the doctors, unwillingly letting them treat me. How I do not remember. According to the doctors I had broken two ribs, dislocated one of my shoulder and was hit hard in the head with a blunt object. They did some scans after realising I suffered from amnesia but nothing too severe came out of that luckily. No brain damage for what they could tell.

I was allowed to leave after 17 days, discharged but still needing to take it easy to heal. Something that infuriated M. For about a month nothing really happened as I was still healing. After that it started all over again and the beatings that were regular became more severe.
During one specific “playsession” I covered my face when she wanted to hit me, which landed me a punishment of 5 days without food. After that I was only allowed one meal a day for a full two weeks and teachers at my school started to ask questions. When I told M about them commenting about me turning skinny and seemingly unhealthy really quick I was not allowed to go to school anymore.

After a month more of physical violence I landed in the hospital again. I had received a beating before going grocery shopping and collapsed in the supermarket.
According to doctors then I was severely malnourished and had broken my arm in the fall.

A week after discharge that time I was back and the doctors were getting sick of me I think. My shoulder was once again dislocated, two fingers on my left hand were broken and my right elbow was broken. After 3 weeks I was once again allowed to go home.
Half a week later police searched our apartment, apparently the doctors had informed the authorities. I was at that moment shackled to the wall in the playroom, left by myself for that past two days.

They found my covered in my own excrements, scared to the bone of them as they dragged M away. I was horrified at the men trying to approach me as I had been with the doctors before them.

It took them hours and I only left once my parents had arrived and my mother took me in her arms. I was rescued. I had never seen such sorrow in my parents’ eyes. Never seen officers so horrified yet trying to help. I was terrified of the very people that rescued me.

It hurts to write this still. I can feel the pain. I can see the sorrow of my parents. I hate myself for ever allowing something like this to happen. Not recognising what was happening and not stopping it when I did realise it.

I reintegrated into my old life slowly. Teachers were happy to see me as well but they do not know what had happened. I am finally doing well in my study again, am enjoying teaching English to young adults and enjoy doing a lot of research in history.

With her..she was found guilty of deprivation of liberty,  two counts of attempted murder and abuse.
What didn’t go through was fraud, blackmail, sexual assault and extortion. M was sentenced to two and a half years of prison, forced treatment in a psychiatric institute for an undetermined amount of time and a fee of 20,000 euros in damages.

And now I am here. Trying to explore the lifestyle that was for a time too big of a trauma to even think about. Trying to meet new people as I explore how to do this in a healthy manner with someone who isn’t criminally insane. So yea..that is my story.
I am now a full year older and am getting back into it.
Thank you for reading and I hope you learned something from this story.

This is quite difficult to do but I will anyway to make sure that others might recognise abusive behaviour by what they assume is their Dominant. This is the first of 2 parts and this is simply because I need time to go through it all and it is still painful to think about all this.

So I met this girl when I was 16, I’ll refer to her as M, and we became great friends over the course of a year. Both of us on the same school meant it was easy to link up and relate to each other, when I was about 17 we got into a relationship. It was very loving and affectionate at this point, slowly building up more physical contact (e.g. kissing, hugging, cuddling) while we talked a lot and spend a lot of time together.
This was particularly a period in which I was extremely happy and felt great about myself. What I didn’t know is that I slowly became dependant on M for some decisions, this was most likely my submissive side coming out and trying to rely on her, and she liked it.
Over the course of the upcoming month we slowly got into kink and it felt good, I was able to be myself and explore myself while she did the same. It was a period in which we tried a lot of different things that have to do with bdsm like chocking, flogging, whipping, bondage, etc.

Then, when I turned 18 I moved into an apartment with M. We were both students and all was well. At some point however she started manipulating me, my friendships and the time I was allowed to be outside of the house. To me this all seemed reasonable because it was slowly built up.
It all started with not being allowed to go outside without permission. Eventually not allowed to meet with friends and family and after about three weeks of that I wasn’t allowed to talk to them. This meant I got estranged from them and they did not know what was going on.
A short time after that I was only allowed to leave the apartment to go to school, M would drop me off and pick me up every day. From the moment I got into the car I had to wear a collar and leash, something that made me feel good at first. Behaviour got steadily worse, however.

I remember waking up one particular morning on the floor of the “playroom” with blood stained beneath my nose, only realising that since there was a mirror in the room, and no recollection of what happened the night before. I still do not know what went down that night. When I tried to walk out of the room I realised the door was locked, so I called out to M. The only thing I got was a “Shut up” from the other room and so I did.. and waited. I don’t know exactly how much time passed between that and her coming in, but it sure felt like eternity. Was smacked in the face first thing and then told to go make her breakfast.
When I had done so I was not allowed to eat and forced to sit at her feet, watching her eat. She then said this one thing that I will most likely remember for ever; “Vanaf nu slaap je in die kamer, begrepen?” Which means “From now on you will sleep in that room, clear?”
The girl I loved said that I would only be allowed to sleep in OUR bed once a week if I behaved properly during said week..
Yet I went with it.

After this things stayed the same for some weeks, I was simply not allowed to do anything without her knowing, and often M would not allow me to go outside. Some days there was physical torture, making me wonder whether I had broken some bones every now and then. Other days I was just tied to a wall with a collar, a chain and a padlock to keep me there, if it even was just a single day.
When I spoke up about it I got beaten, I should’ve been happy to be treated like this, I should be grateful is what she said, and I started believing so as time went on.

I will continue this later..