The Naked End

This is a slightly fictionalized account of the experiences of Lush member Nika S. Names have been changed, and some of the events simplified for descriptive purposes, but the events are true. This is the twenty-second and final chapter of Nika’s life as De Muis, a sex slave.

I shrugged off my bra straps, then folded the bra neatly, placing it on top of my other clothes. I slipped my panties down to the pavement, and stepped out of them. I folded them, too, although I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe because Mistress always demanded neatness, perfection.


I took the note I had so agonizingly written, placed it on top of the pile of clothes on the bench by the Canal, then put my handbag on top of that to keep it from blowing away. I hoped the police would find it before someone stole it.

I put my hand to my neck. I felt naked, not because I wasn’t wearing any clothes, but because for the first time in many, many months, I wasn’t wearing the collar Mistress had given me.

Sighing, with tears blurring my eyes, I stepped to the rail, and looked down into the water of the the canal, along Oudezziijds Voorburgwal, in front of De Oude Kerk.

The night was dark, and very late. It was well past time for the working girls to be out, even here in DeWallen, the Red Light district of Amsterdam, and I was alone. But then, I had been alone since Mistress died, even when I was surrounded by people.

De Muis had come from the gutter. De Muis might as well die there. She didn’t belong anywhere else now.

I just hoped they would take care of my baby, Eric, the way Miriam would have wanted…

Three Months Earlier

I stood in the doorway of our home, gawking at the two politieagenten, policemen, plus the man in the suit, who had come to tell me that Mistress had been killed in a car crash.

“We are sorry for your loss, Madam, but your partner’s car…”

“Miriam is my wife!”

“…your wife’s car swerved off the highway at high speed, and crashed. She must have died almost instantaneously.”

I shook my head, “No, I’m sorry, you’re wrong. She’s just on her way back from a meeting out of town. She’s fine. I just saw her a few hours ago.

“Besides, Miriam is an excellent driver, it’s a fine day, the roads are clear…how can you tell me she crashed? That’s ridiculous!”

The older policeman, a sergeant, glanced back at his partner, and said, “May we come in please? This gentleman,” and he nodded at the man in the suit, “…is from the German consulate. Miriam Wolf was a German citizen, and her family is quite prominent.”

“What do you mean she was a German citizen?” I said crossly. “She still is. You can’t change that. You can’t take her citizenship away from her … you can’t do that!”

The sergeant glanced at the consular official, who stepped forward. “Frau Wolf, our deepest condolences, but no one is trying to take away your partner’s…”

“My wife!”

“…your wife’s citizenship.” He smiled sadly, “Death has already done that.”

I just stood there, my mind a blank. I could think of nothing to say, and I had no idea what to do next. This was impossible. It couldn’t happen, it wasn’t happening!

For some reason, I fell to my knees, and started screaming at them. “No, no, no, No, NO! She’s NOT dead! She CAN’T be. You’re lying, you…”

And I started beating my head against the wood floor. I didn’t know why I was doing it. I barely comprehended that I was doing it. But I couldn’t stop.

The younger policeman, whom I had met before, stepped forward and leaned down. “Madam Wolf…Nika…please let me…”

Then my waters broke. I screamed, and collapsed onto my side, sobbing.

The police sergeant immediately pulled out his radio and called for an ambulance, and very shortly after that, I was on my way to the hospital with the younger cop holding my hand.

As soon as we got to the hospital, I was wheeled into the delivery room, and asked if I wanted something for the pain. I glared at them, and shouted “NO!”

I’m tough. I can take it, I thought.

It was excruciating, and I was nowhere near as tough as I thought I was. It seemed to go on forever, yet finally the baby was born, and despite being a preemie, he was healthy.

I got to hold him briefly, although I was covered in sweat, groggy, and exhausted. If he had been a girl, I would have named her Miriam, but we had talked about names, so I named him Eric, after his great-grandfather.

Then I passed out.


I was confused when I woke up. I was in a bed, but not our bed. The mattress was too hard, the sheets were too scratchy, and the light was too bright. There were strange sounds, especially one relatively slow beeping noise. It was annoying, but I didn’t want to open my eyes to look.

I heard someone coming, so pretended to be asleep.

The curtain pulled back, and I heard two sets of feet draw near.

“Will she be okay?” one voice said in German. I recognized it, but couldn’t remember who he was.

“It’s too early to say yet. Let me show you…” a second voice said, then trailed off as they turned and moved away.

Shortly after that, I slept again.


I was in the hospital for almost two weeks, during which time, they buried Miriam.

I never got to see her again, never got to say good-bye. I never quite forgave them for that, even though I knew they couldn’t wait until I was well enough.

Hans and Marie showed up the day Eric was born, although I didn’t know it. The German consulate had notified him even before they came to see me at home, and he and Marie had left immediately for Amsterdam. They took over my care when Hans told the doctors he was my closest relative – which was true in every important sense of the word – as well as Eric’s uncle, which was also true, if not quite the whole story. Eric was also Hans’ son.

Marie took to visiting me every day, often spending hours and chatting, or just sitting with me. This was when we finally bonded together, going beyond the earlier relationship, and entering into the older/younger sister relationship that became our permanent bond.

The second day after Eric was born, Hans came to see me by himself. He wanted to talk to me about Miriam’s crash.

I looked at him, “How could this happen? Mistress was too good a driver. Maybe she wasn’t paying attention because she was thinking about me. I was distracting her, and she didn’t focus on her driving. That’s it, isn’t it? Oh, God, Hans, it’s all my fault…”

“Stop it, Nika. I don’t think it was your fault.”


“I said stop it! I’m not even sure it was an accident.”

I stopped cold and just gawked at him. “What?”

“I spoke to the police at length, and visited the scene. There were skid marks on the pavement, but her left, rear bumper had a huge dent in it that doesn’t seem to be related to the crash. Do you know if she had dented the bumper somehow?”

I shook my head. “No! She loved that car, and she would have taken it to be fixed immediately if anything had happened to it!”

Hans looked at me, his face grim. “I’m not sure this was an accident,” he repeated. “The police aren’t taking this very seriously…but I am.”

“But who…what…”

“I don’t know. I’m looking into it.”

Then he refused to say any more, insisting that I focus on getting well.

Mistress had been trained in evasive driving by a bodyguard company, and she had taught me, so I knew how good a driver she was. Yet, no one was invulnerable – not even Mistress.

But I could not shake the feeling that I had distracted her, that I was responsible for her death. The thought kept returning, haunting me.

Meanwhile, Eric was doing well for a preemie. He was in the neo-natal ward, and stayed there for almost a month.

Once I was able to get up and move around, the first thing I wanted to do was see Eric, to make sure he was all right. Marie and Hans both walked with me, although we didn’t move very quickly. I was sore in many uncomfortable places, and really had very little desire to do anything, including eat.

But I did want to see Eric. He was the last thing that Miriam and I did together, plus I had promised him I would take care of him. Or see that he was taken care of.

Frankly, I didn’t know how I could take care of him. For that matter, I wasn’t sure how I would take care of myself – or even whether I wanted to.

I wasn’t sure I could face life without my Mistress. She had been my life, and I had no idea what my life would be without her. I had been scared of the challenges I knew would come with being a mother, but with Miriam beside me, leading me, I was sure we could manage anything.

But I also knew I had been nothing before her, and now felt like I was nothing again, without her. She had not only been my life, she had given me life. Had it not been for her, I am quite sure I would have been dead from drugs, or violence, or even starvation. I felt empty and alone. I felt I should have died, not her.

Eric was lovely. They let me pick him up and hold him, and I hugged him as hard as I thought he could stand. He was so small, his face was red and screwed up, he was warm, and smelled lovely, and wore a little knitted cap. He seemed to embody love, and I promised him, again, that I would make sure he never had to go through what I had. I just didn’t know how I would manage, but I would figure it out.

How is it possible to love someone you’ve never seen before? I cried while holding him, and eventually had to hand him off to Marie. She looked at me, concerned, but who also was happy to hold the baby that she could never have. Her nephew. Her stepson.


The day came when I was discharged from hospital. Hans gone back to work – he was the CEO of a major corporation, after all – but Marie stayed with me, and helped get me home.

Home. Where was that? Would I ever have a home again without Mistress?

We went back to the house, and Marie made supper for us, then had to insist that I ate it.

In the days that followed I came to a realization: nobody knew how I really felt, but they would never leave me alone unless I convinced them I was okay. So, performer that I am, I started to smile and participate. I helped cook meals, I kept the house clean the way Mistress would have wanted it. And when Eric came home, I showed the very real emotions I had for him, for him having a home, for him being home.

I lied, in other words. Because I was dead inside. I felt anxious all the time. I felt lost and alone, that no one understood me, that no one really cared about me. I even felt a little bit of resentment towards Eric because they clearly cared about him.

I was just the handy cow that had delivered the golden child. The whore whom their precious Miriam had used to produce a dynastic heir. I was… disposable. None of them cared about me, only about the heir I’d produced for them. Even Hans. To him I was just a good fuck with a convenient womb. Plus, I was the true cause of Miriam’s death.

I was nothing. I had never been anything, and I never would be anything.

I knew these thoughts were unworthy. That I was being unfair. That they weren’t true.

But that didn’t stop them from coming.

And it didn’t stop me from crying. At night, when nobody was there to see me, to hold me, to kiss me, to cuddle me. To care for me…

Someone once said that hell is other people. In my case, hell was missing that one other person.


I managed to put on a good enough front for long enough that Marie went back to Berlin – after securing the services of a top-flight nanny to do most of the heavy lifting in looking after Eric. She lived in, and did most of the feeding, changing, cuddling, and caring for my baby.

I tried to help. I did. But…

Then Hans called to say the will was going to be read to the family, and he wanted me to come to Berlin for it. Bring Eric.

Of course bring Eric.

So, I arranged for the nanny to come with us to Berlin. She could hold Eric while everyone cooed over him. I’d smile, and let them talk, and I’d be happy.

Or at least, look happy.

The nanny took Eric up to the nursery of the family mansion while we gathered in the library. It was all the various members of the family, including many I had never met.

I sat at the back, off to one side. I was wearing black. It was the only thing I could think of to do, and I hoped I could slide through this without being noticed.

The family solicitor droned through the will, but it didn’t matter as I wasn’t listening anyway. Until I suddenly realized that everyone had stopped talking, including the solicitor, and they were all staring at me. I looked up and wondered what the fuck had just happened.

“No! It can’t be!” said one of the lesser Wolfs. “She can’t…she wouldn’t leave everything to that whore! She can’t do that!”

Hans jumped up and strode over to the guy, grabbed him by the collar and hauled him out of his seat. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up, you useless prick! She is not only Miriam’s wife, she is the mother of my nephew, and you will address her as Frau Wolf, and be polite about it. Understand me?”

And he shook the guy like a dog shaking a rat.

But other voices piped up, using perhaps more polite language, but saying the same thing.

I stood up, and started to walk out of the room, when another voice, a quieter one, a much older one, cut through the babble.

“She is Frau Wolf, she is the wife of my beloved granddaughter, and she is more important, and more valuable, to this family than most of the rest of you put together.

Grandfather Eric Wolf stood up and looked at me. His face softened, and he said, “Come here, please, my dear.”

I stopped and looked at him, then turned and walked back to him. He put his arm around my shoulder, then turned to everyone else, and said, “This is my granddaughter’s wife, so she is my granddaughter, ja? Let us hear no more about it.”

Then he turned to me and said, “Please, Frau Wolf, come and sit by an old man.

And that effectively ended the meeting.

So, that’s how I came to inherit a fortune – as well as a huge piece of stock in the family company. None of which I wanted.

When the meeting was over, and everyone filed out of the room, Great-grandfather Eric asked to see his namesake, and Marie went to get him. Herr Wolf looked at me, and said, “Child, I had never seen Miriam happier than since she married you. And you are far smarter than most of these imbeciles realize.”

Marie walked in holding Eric, with the nanny trailing behind her. Great-grandfather gently took his great-grandson in his arms. “Even if he were all you ever gave this family, it is more than enough.”

He looked up from baby Eric to me, “But you, yourself, are a gift. Hans has been at pains to tell me how you helped him with his negotiations, and how remarkable your grasp of both business, and human dynamics are. You are an asset to this family, and we should be grateful to have you.

“I am. So, please do not let these…others…make you believe that their ignorant views are those of the family proper.”

He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, then kissed Eric, then handed him back to me. “Take good care of him, Veronika, dear. Miriam would have loved him – as she loved you.”

Then he walked away, leaving me with the baby, Hans, Marie, and the nanny.


When all the paperwork was done, Eric, the nanny, and I went back to Amsterdam. But before we went, Hans and I had a long conversation, alone.

“When I was in hospital, you said something about not being sure Mistress’ death was an accident. What can you tell me?”

Hans looked at me. “Are you sure you need to know this, Nika? You should focus on your health, and Eric’s.”

I lifted my chin and stared at him. “Mistress was my wife! If someone hurt her, I must know.” Then I waited him out.

He finally sighed, then said, “There are things that just don’t add up, things that happened that would not have happened if it had been an accident.

“Did you know her neck was broken?”

I shook my head.

“Yet, BMW convertibles are designed to protect the driver in the case of a roll-over. And the rest of her injuries would not have been sufficient to kill her without that.”

I absorbed the news for a while, working my jaw and feeling anger start in the pit of my stomach. I turned to him. “And what else?”

We talked for some time.

It turned out there wasn’t much more. Hans thought the police had more information, but they weren’t sharing it, yet they didn’t seem to be taking it seriously, either.

Eventually, talk turned to my inheritance, and what I wanted done with it. That took longer.


I started things moving when I got back. On the trip back, I had come to a decision, but I couldn’t just leave. I had to arrange things properly. Every time I thought of just giving up, I could see Mistress’ face in my mind, giving me that icy stare that used to scare me so. I knew what she wanted, but it would take me some time to do it.

The first thing I did was easy and obvious: I made Hans and Marie Eric’s guardians in the event of my death or disappearance. No problems there.

Next, I had to get our financial affairs in order. Mistress had left me wealthy, much of it tied up in various assets.

I hired a really good solicitor that Gregor, the man who picked me off the streets of Rotterdam, recommended to create a couple of trusts. The most important of these made Eric the final beneficiary of most of the assets, to devolve to him when he turns twenty-five. Then I turned the documents over to Hans’ lawyers, and asked them to try to tear them apart. I didn’t want anyone, in the wake of Grandfather Eric’s eventual death, to be able to grab his namesake’s inheritance from him. I wanted the trust to be absolutely ironclad, and finally, it was.

I set aside funds and steady income streams from the trust for an orphanage Mistress had supported, plus a shelter for abused women and children that I admired. The payments were spelled out in detail, and no one would be able to grab them. I used a third-party law firm to act as trustees with instructions that they were to ignore queries from anyone other than me, Hans, or Marie.

I also set up some numbered accounts with various amounts of cash in places other people would never find them.


One asset didn’t go into Eric’s trust: Mistress’ ownership of the DeCoven BDSM Club. I had other plans for it, but especially, I didn’t want the Club to be run by assholes like the one that attacked Mistress, the one I had throttled. He apparently had tried to get himself elected Grand Master. That wasn’t going to happen.

So, one day, I took Eric with me to the Club to visit with Mistress Andrea. People were a bit shocked to see me, but everyone was both polite and cordial – a legacy, I believe, of the respect in which Mistress was still held.

The Keeper was there when we walked into Andrea’s office, and he volunteered to take Eric while Andrea and I chatted. He turned out to be a very good babysitter. Who knew?

Andrea and I chatted for some time, and finally came to an understanding. She balked at first, but understood what I was getting at, and finally agreed. Then she called a meeting of the Board of Directors for two days hence.

When we walked in together, the Board members were shocked. Most expressed pleasure in seeing me, but a few objected to my presence, and were hostile about it.

Mistress Andrea pointed out that I now owned and funded DeCoven, and could replace them if I wished. That took the wind out of their sails, and everyone went quiet while Andrea explained what was going to happen. Then she turned the floor over to me.

I stood up, and saw a number of angry faces still, so I gave them Miriam’s best Ice Maiden stare. They all shifted uncomfortably.

“You all know me as Mistress Miriam’s slave, and so I was. But do not misconstrue our relationship, yours and mine. I was Miriam’s slave, not yours. But she is gone now, and I am here.

“You may not yet be aware of it, but Miriam trained me and briefed me in Club affairs. I am more than capable of taking care of this business, but I have other things I need to do.

“Miriam was committed to DeCoven, and she was your leader. I am also committed to the Club, and the continuation of her legacy, and will support it as she did. But I am not your leader, nor am I the best choice to be leader. I am merely a member who wishes the best for DeCoven, and for you, whether you believe that or not.

“So, the time has come to choose someone who is fit to lead the Club, which choice, of course, is up to the Board.”

I stopped and looked pointedly at Mistress Andrea.

“Of course, if you wish to challenge my choice, you are free to do so, but…”

The room went deathly silent. They had not expected this from a former slave, let alone one who wasn’t even twenty-two years old.

Andrea was elected unanimously.


Then I seduced Piers, the younger of the two cops that came to break the news of Miriam’s death to me. He had hinted to me that there was stuff in the file that hadn’t been made public. I wanted that information, and so made sure he got it for me.

When I got the file, there were tantalizing scraps of information, but nothing conclusive. But there were at least some threads that could be chased down.


Finally, I had everything organized the way Mistress would have wanted it. It had taken me three months, even though I was pushing as hard as I could.

So, now I was ready.


I held Eric for the last time, kissed him, then handed him to the babysitter. “He will certainly need changing before nanny gets back. And there are bottles of formula in the fridge.

“Emergency numbers are here, especially Eric’s aunt and uncle. If anything happens, call them first, okay?”

She just smiled and nodded. She wasn’t expecting anything to happen. I just hoped nanny got home on time.

I picked up my handbag and a brown paper bag with handles, and left without looking back. I had decided what I had to do, and now I just had to do it.

I caught a bus down to DeWallen, and wandered around, finally settling on a bench overlooking the canal. Fortunately, it was a warm night for September, so I waited until things started to slow down, which took several hours.

And, of course, I had to turn down a number of johns, looking for a hook-up. I idly wondered if I should turn one last trick, but decided against it. Somehow, it didn’t seem like a fun game anymore.

I had my phone off, but turned it on to check the time – nearly four a.m. Immediately, notifications for several messages popped up. I looked at who they were from. First from the babysitter, then several from the nanny, then, lastly, three from Hans.

Good. It meant Eric would be looked after.

I shut the phone off again, and set it on the bench. I looked around, but I hadn’t seen anyone in quite some time, so decided the time had come.

I opened my handbag and took out the envelope with the note I had written in it, putting it on the bench by my side, then putting my phone in the handbag.

I stood up, kicked off my sandals, then pulled my top over my head, folded it and placed it on the bench. I undid my skirt, dropped it to the pavement, then picked it up and folded it, placing it on the folded top.

I reached behind me, and undid my bra, shrugged off the straps, then folded the garment neatly, placing it on top of my other clothes. I slipped my panties down to the pavement, and stepped out of them. I folded them, too, although I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe because Mistress always demanded neatness, perfection.

I took the envelope with the note, placed it on top of the pile of clothes on the bench by the Canal, then put my handbag on top of that to keep it from blowing away. I hoped that the police would find it before someone stole it.

I put my hand to my neck. I felt naked, not because I wasn’t wearing any clothes, but because for the first time in many, many months, I wasn’t wearing the collar Mistress gave me.

Sighing, with tears blurring my vision, I stepped to the rail, and looked down into the water of the the canal, along Oudezziijds Voorburgwal in front of De Oude Kerk.

The night was dark, and very late. It was well past time for the working girls to be out, even here in DeWallen, the Red Light district of Amsterdam, and I was alone. But then, I had been alone since Mistress died, even when I was surrounded by people.

De Muis had come from the gutter. De Muis might as well die there. She didn’t belong anywhere else now.

I stared down into the water for a long time, watching it slip silently away under the bridge beneath me.

I wondered what death would be like.


The politieagenten, the cops came eventually, following an anonymous call. They found the pile of clothes, the handbag – and the note. The older cop opened the envelope, read the note, then handed it to his partner while unclipping his radio. He spoke into it urgently, while walking to the rail and looking down into the water. His partner read the note, then pulled out his flashlight, and started to play it on the waters below.

At the bottom of the note were an address and phone number, along with a phone number for Hans Wolf, preceded by a German country code.

The note said:

“I can’t go on without Miriam. She gave me life, and without her I am nothing.

“Eric will be better off if he is raised by his Uncle Hans and his Aunt Marie. They will be the parents I never had, the parent I never could be.

“Please forgive me,

“Veronika S. Wolf”


I watched from a good distance away, standing in the shadows. I waited until I saw the police arrive and read the note, then I turned and walked away.

I was wearing the black tube top, miniskirt, and high heels I had stashed in the brown paper bag. My hair was pulled back into the pony tail I hardly ever wore, and I had on octagonal, rose-colored glasses. My lipstick was black, my eyes were heavily made up, and I looked like just another working girl. I tossed the burner phone that I’d used to call the police into a canal as I walked away.

I caught a bus to a nearby restaurant where truckers bought their breakfasts before pulling out onto the highway. I’d hitch a ride – payment in untraceable services to be rendered, of course – and see how quickly I could get to Rotterdam. Gregor was expecting me, and I would stay with him for a few days while I decided what to do next.

I had to figure out who I was going to be from now on, but of one thing I was certain.

De Muis was dead.

Updated: August 2, 2021 — 5:24 pm
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