Voluntary Slave Pt. 01

Hi I'm Kelly. This story took place not long after my 19th birthday, during the summer after senior year. It details the path I fallowed as I voluntarily became the sex slave of a sadistic older man. But first a little background on me.

I'm a light-skinned girl, short and wide hipped. I have pretty green eyes, curly reddish blond hair, and I'm a little on the chubby side. Curvy is a nice way of describing me. I used to be very insecure about my weight when I was younger. I'm not at all the pixie type most younger guys like, but I do have the big tits and fat ass that older men can't get enough of.

I'm the last person you would expect to be in a kinky situation like this. I'm actually fairly shy. Although I really liked to suck cock, the fact was, I had only ever been with one man before this. In addition my only sexual experience had been while I was passed out at a party. One of my classmates had helped her gross, collage aged, brother slip something in my drink. I don't remember much after taking my first cocktail, but he defiantly put his cock in my tail. (Later I found out from his bragging, he fucked me from behind.)

All I recalled was waking up the next morning on the guest room floor, with a sore and sticky crotch. I was so ashamed, I slipped out of the house in the early hours, to creep home and wash my abused vagina. I didn't even know who had raped me until I heard the mean girl telling everyone in class what a chubby little slut I was, for jumping into bed with her older brother.

I was so ashamed, I never accused either of them of anything. I even told a few girls who asked directly about it, that I fucked him because I thought he was really hot. It made me feel so ashamed I wanted to die.

The mean girl even gave him my number. The creep texted me a day or so later. He told me he'd really enjoyed our evening together, and would love to have a drink with me some time when he was back from collage again. I felt gross and didn't want to have anything to do with him. However I didn't want it to get out, that I had been taken advantage of, so I texted back a blushing face emoji and said maybe.

Despite my lack of experience with vaginal sex, I had a good bit of experience with oral sex. Even though I had never had a steady boyfriend, I had sucked several penises. The reality was, I just couldn't help myself. If I was making out with a guy and I felt his wiener getting hard, I just had to suck it. I loved having a cock shoved down my throat, and the rougher and more disrespectful, the wetter I got. When I got drunk at parties I'd have to be very careful, or I'd wind up with throat full of cum. I had blown several boys in my class, which I'm sure contributed to my reputation as a vulturous little tart.

I also had something of a thing for older men, possibly because my dad had never been around. I just always found them so hot, the older and grosser the better. I always looked up to them, and sought out their approval, which might be why one of the weiners that made its way into my mouth belonged to my mommy's 50-year-old boss Jeff, blush.

Jeff was a real creep, fat, bold, and always undressing me and my mommy with his eyes. Not long after my 18th birthday, he cornered me in a back room at a company holiday party, to "congratulate" me on my coming of age. Pressing me up against a wall, he molested me, groping my big tits and booty from behind. Spanking my wide bottom he panted in my ear with alcoholic breath. "That's right you fat little slut. Iv'e had my eye on you." Then putting his hand up my skirt and cupping my pussy through my panties, making me moan and grind. "That's right little girl, you love it. Grind that fat pussy for me." He rolled his hips against me and the feel of his hard old man dick against my ass made me whimper with pleasure.

Then he turned me around and pushed me to my knees, and I knew I was going to get to taste a penis. I tried to act victimized, as he shoved his dick in my mouth, but my eager bobbing, licking, and sultry eye contact told the true story.

The older man's dick in my mouth drove me wild, and I wanted to touch myself. But for some reason I felt I should ask Jeff's permission to rub my clit. I felt that as an older man, and my mommy's boss, I should obey him, and it would be disrespectful of me to masterbate without permission.

So I asked very politely in my cutest little girl voice "You're getting me so turned on mister. Can I please rub my clit while I suck you mister? Please? Please can I touch my chubby little giny?"

Looking down at me like I was lower than a dog, he smirked and said. "I'll give you permission under one condition. Pull out those fat utters, shake them around, humiliate yourself for me. Then you can cum in your panties with my penis in your mouth." After that he pulled out his camera phone expectantly.

What he said and what he was doing to me made me fell worthless, but I needed his attention, and after tasting old man cock I just had to cum. I lowered the straps of my dress and pulled out my pale tits, letting them flop out over the top of my bra. I felt so exposed. I tried to smile up into the camera but Im sure my fear and shame were obvious.

Knowing he wanted a show, I shook and bounced my big boobs. I flopped and flounced like a brainless slut, red cheeked and ashamed, until he finally pulled my face back onto his dick. "That's nice, now go ahead and touch yourself little girl, cum with my cock in your throat." I did, twice, and the dirty old man got it all on camera. Jeff must have approved of my oral presentation, because a week later he offered me a summer internship after graduation.

Like I said just a bit of background info on a chubby little slut.

-

So there I was all tied up in the creepy man down the street's basement. Just a helpless 19-year-old girl. My pretty green eyes flashing with fear, and my thick pale curves spilling out of my unbuttoned uniform dress.

The dirty old man had joined my hands and elbows behind me, forcing me to arch my back and sick out my ample chest. A rope had been attached to my wrists, then tossed over a rafter and pulled tight, obliging me to stay on my feet, in a bent over position. I had recently learned this was called a strapped tie. My creamy DD tits pulled out of my bra, and flopped in front of me, my pink nipples perky and hard.

Mr. Smith had roped my thick legs, at the ankles, and above and below the knee. The ropes dug into my stockings and pale flesh, securing me and making it difficult to balance in my 4-inch fuck me heals.

I'm a wide-hipped girl, a little on the thick side, with a bit of a belly and a nice fat white ass. My already humiliatingly short dress had been pulled up, revealing my pale bubble butt framed by thigh high stockings and garters, and protected by nothing but a high-waisted black thong.

The creep had also looped a rope around my waist like a belt, before yanking one end up into my crotch and tying it off. He put several big knots in the cord right were it dug into my plump pussy over my clit. As humiliating as it was, I simply couldn't keep myself from grinding my girl parts on the rope. I wobbled, wiggled, and jiggled, like a perfect little curvy damsel in distress.

How had I gotten my thick little white ass into this predicament? Well...

-

The whole thing started, when I overheard my mommy and one of her friends talking about Mr. Smith. My mommy's friend Silvia, a heavy set Latina with huge breasts, wide hips, and an enormous ass, was an incorrigible gossip. Over wine, she went on and on about how a friend of hers from the PTA group had dated Mr. Smith, and that he was some sort of kinky freak.

Silvia told her that Mr. Smith had a sex dungeon in his basement. My mother was shocked, and I caught my breath where I was eavesdropping from the other room. Silvia went on to describe whips, chains, vibrators, and "god knows what else."

The line of conversation clearly mad my mother nervous, but to my shock, it made me shiver with excitement. I had to know more. My mother asked that had been burning in my mind. "What kind of person would willingly let a creep like that tie them up? Especially someone as gross as Mr. Smith."

Silvia took a long sip of her wine before laughing "Who knows. Maybe there's something wrong with her. Like maybe, she got molested or something."

My mother. "A masochist maybe..." And Silvia chimed in... Or maybe just a total slut!" And both women burst into cruel laughter. Soon the conversation drifted to other subjects. I hid and listened for another hour, breathless, hoping to hear more about the sex dungeon, but the two catty older ladies were on to other gossip.

It was a minor incident, but it stuck in my mind, and would not go away. What was a sex dungeon like anyway? Did he rape women down there, or did they come willingly? They must be willing... or willing to be forced. Silvia had said it was in his basement. The first images that popped in my head were of dungeons from cartoons and old movies, I pictured stone arches, bars, hanging chains, leaking water, rats... but instead of cute animated Robin Hood and Aladdin, there were tied up girls in there underwear, OMG.

The idea drove me wild. I desperately wanted to know what it felt like to be tied up in my underpanties. I was so naive I didn't really consider these rape scenarios, but was innocent enough to be able to just focus on the rush the fantasy of being bound and caged gave me. It was all I could think about when I touched myself in the bath or at bedtime, as well as most other times, hehe. As far back as I could remember any movie, TV show, cartoon, comic, adds, anything that had a tied up, or gagged or even caged females in it made my girl parts tingle.

From pretending, it was me that got tied to the rail-road tracks in the cartoons, to imagining I was the girl strapped to the knife throwers target at the county fair, to imagining I was being blackmailed and forced to strip and hook, my fantasies just got naughtier and naughtier. One cartoon that drove me wild, was an old episode of Family Guy. It ends with the creepy old man, Quagmire, finding a bound and gagged cheerleader in the bathroom of a local school. The girl looks up at him squirming and pleading with her eyes, her top is riding up a little reveling her belly button, her pigtails are askew, and the girl's skirt is riding up her coltish legs. Instead of setting her free he just looks down and smiles saying "Dear Diary... Bingo" and they cut to black. For years, I'd touch myself pretending that girl was me.

I'd imagine I was grabbed and passed around by pirates, or snatched, packaged, and shipped off to a harem overseas. I often engaged in the shame fell fantasy of a home invasion. I'd imagine I was home snuggled up with my stuffed animals, or in the shower when I would be grabbed by a masked intruder, bound and violated, then left dripping for my mommy to find. Sometimes I'd even imagine that the bad man would tie my mommy and I up next to each other, in just our under panties, and play "eeny meeny miny moe" to see which one of us he drags off, kicking and screaming, to the bedroom first.

Now all i fantasized about was Mr. Smith and his "sex dungeon". I wanted to know how it felt to have a scumbag like that have total power of me. He was a fat gross creep who came into my restaurant and tried to look up the girls skirts, but I couldn't stop imagining him tieing me up. I imagined ropes, chains, spankings and whippings. Funny I didn't imagine much actual pain or penetration. I was totally naive, I just imagined humiliation and crazy exalting horniness. What a silly little bimbo I was... still am, blush.

It got so much worse when I looked up sex dungeon on my computer, when my mommy thought I was sleeping. I thought I was touching myself too much before, now I was looking at classic bondage porn all the time, the other stuff was usually too scary for me. Every moment I was alone I had my fingers in my panties.

One time when I came home from a party drunk, I even touched my self to some lezdom spanking, OMG. I totally was not into girls, gross. But the idea of being forced to play with another girl to entertain older men, defiantly turned me on.

The notion that there may now be a place, where all these oh so naughty fantasies could come to life, was almost too much for me. What would it feel like to be tied up, helpless in the hands of an older man? All my life I had put my self in the place of characters like slave Princess Leah on a leash, or of Tiger Lilly from the Peter Pan Cartoon, roped to an anchor in a raising tide. Now it could really be me. I could be the little tied up victim. The temptation would prove to be too much for my burgeoning sexuality, and get me into lots of trouble.

I might have been able to get over my crush, but Mr. Smith was a regular at my restaurant, who always sat in my section, and came in at least three times a week. After hearing about his dungeon, my pussy twitched and my heart raced the next time I served him. I couldn't stop imaging what it would be like to see him at the restaurant, after he had just "had me" in his dungeon. I was flustered after seating him, and my chest was flushed and panties moist by the time I had served him his coffee.

I worried someone might smell my arousal, and possibly someone did. Juan was our old drunken cook, a total creep who made crude comments to all the girls, and touched our asses when we weren't looking. When I came in to place Mr. Smith's regular order, meat loaf with extra mashed potatoes and gravy, Juan couldn't keep his eyes off me, and he grabbed my butt when I was forced to pass him to get to the coffee maker. "You're looking good today, cutie."

All us girls working there knew that the boss didn't give a fuck if we got fondled on the job, and if we didn't like it we could quit. "Keep your filthy hands off me." Was all I replied. I had always hated Juan's grabyness, but this time his pawing sent a shiver through me that I couldn't completely hide.

Back at Mr. Smith table, I rested my hand on his arm, and called him hun. Something I had seen some of the other serving girls do to get tips, but I had always been much to shy to do myself. When he reminded me to bring him extra gravy I flirted back "I promise I will Mr. Smith, otherwise you might have to spank me." This kind of basin flirting was totally out of characters for me, and I worried he would notice how hot he was making me. I had a crazy urge to sit down on his lap, stroke his shaggy beard, and whisper all my bondage wishes into his ear like he was Santa Claus.

A naughty idea occurred to me. The uniform dresses we wore at the dinner were cut very short, and I knew if I dent straight at the waist, my panties would be on clear display. The thought drove me wild, and I decided I had to show Mr. Smith my fat teen tushy. I gulped, remembering I had worn a thong today, oh no!

My heart was racing, when I served him his meatloaf, and when I turned around and fake dropped my order pad, it was in my mouth. I felt a dropping sense of fear in my tummy, but it was too late to back out now. "Oopsy!" I said in a flirty bimbo voice, making sure he didn't miss the show. I bent sharply at the waist, keeping my thick legs slightly apart. As my hand met the pad, I sensed the fresh air on my exposed bottom, and could feel Mr. Smith's eyes, on my bare butt framed by my stockings, and the thin strip of cloth protecting my young pussy. I lingered bent like that for more than a few moments longer than absolutely necessary before straightening up and sauntering back to the kitchen, hips swinging.

My pussy was pulsing and I was panting lightly by the time I passed through the kitchen doors. I couldn't have that pervert Juan seeing me in this state, to I sped past him into the employee bathroom. I didn't have to pee pee, but out of habit I lifted my skirt, pulled down my panties and took a seat on the toilet. There was a big damp patch, where my pussy soaked through the crotch of my panties, and the sight of it filled me with shame and arousal. Gazing down at my wet drawers, I felt like crying in desperate sexual frustration. I didn't cry though, I touched my pussy.

I simply couldn't help myself. I was like a bitch in heat. Running my fingers over my clit I imagined Mr. Smith, everyone seeing me like this, legs spread, rubbing my clit in this public toilet. I imagined the shame I'd feel getting discovered like this, and my pleasure deepened. I imagined serving him his meal dressed in nothing but a thong and hand cuffs, I imagined crawling under his table and sucking his cock in front of everyone. Before long I could barely keep in my gasps. I imagined him bending me over the table in the crowded restaurant, spanking my fat ass bright red, yanking down my panties and, and... and I came right there in the bathroom, right in the middle of my shift, like a horny dog. My legs felt like rubber, I couldn't meet Mr. Smith's eyes, when I returned a few minuets later with the check. However, he left a good tip.

After that incident, it was a bit like I was in heat. All I could think about was bondage, and how hot it would be, to be at the mercy of a beast like Mr. Smith. I masterbated constantly, at home, at school, at work, even low-key while stuck in traffic.

I wanted to know how it would feel and look to be bound, so I started experimenting. First I dug out some costume handcuffs from an old Halloween outfit. Even though there was a release button on the cuffs, I thrilled to feel them on my wrists. I got wet looking at myself cuffed and falling out of my clothes in the mirror, and it got even better when I started gagging myself with a pair of used panties and a roll of clear tape.

Quickly I progressed to bound selfies and video clips, and in no time had quite a folder. I would pick out a cute outfit and sexy underthings. With my phone camera rolling, I would bind my legs with tape or zip ties, gag and cuff myself and then put on a show. I'd struggle so hard my clothes would "accidentally" fall off. I'd stick my big butt and boobs in the camera, flash my frightened eyes, and beg through the gag for mercy. I'd pretend I was one of the girls I saw in the bondage videos I loved so much. Imagining that my half dressed struggling and humiliated, would be seen and jerked off to by thousands of dirty old men, drove me wild.

It became an obsession. Bondage. Bondage. Bondage. It was all I could think about. I felt like a junky. I just couldn't stop obsessing about it and in the end, I decided to ask Mr. Smith if I could see his dungeon. Just out of curiosity I told myself.

When I finally got up my courage, I got his favorite dinner to go, and showed up unannounced at his door in my uniform. On a naughty impulse, earlier that day, I pulled out a uniform dress, two sizes too small. It clung to my curves in a way that might have been too much for a family dinner. The skirt kept riding up, threatening to expose my pale cheeks, and the buttons in from strained to hold in my massive tits. I got lustful stares from the male customers and dirty looks from more than a few of the wives, but all the owner said was I looked nice today.

By the time my shift ended and I headed for Mr. Smith's I was in a horny daze. My hart was pounding like a jack hammer before I was half a block from his door, and I almost chickened out several times. At his stoop I unbuttoned the top two buttons of my dress, letting my cleavage show alluringly. I didn't want him to turn me down as a slave after all.

He was surprised to see me. "You're that cutie from around the corner, you serve at the café, I didn't order any food...?"

Words failed me, I couldn't meet his eyes. I had known that I wouldn't be able to explain to this dirty old man that I had a terrible crush on him, and I badly wanted to see his sex dungeon. For seeing my shyness, I came up with a devious plan that would force me to face my fantasies, I had written a note. Finally, I got out "I know you didn't order any delivery from the café, I just brought you dinner as a treat, I just... I just... This will explain everything." I trailed off handing Mr. Smith his favorite dinner the envelope I had prepared so carefully for this moment.

Mr. Smith placed the to go box on a side table, took out the note and read. He read allowed, letting me wait on his porch in abject fear and humiliation.

"Dear Mr. Smith. I'm writing you this letter because I'm too scared to tell you what I really want with my words. The truth is, I heard a rumor about your sex dungeon from one of my mommy's friends, and I really want you to tie me up and do bad things to me. I've had a huge crush on you ever since I heard, and I want to be your little slave girl.

I've included several self bondage and nude photos, as well as sign ins for my social media pages, and contacts. These will ensure that you have full control over me and can easily ruin my life if I'm not an obedient and eager slave.

I know I'm a little chubby, but perhaps you would enjoy binding and abusing my big tits and fat ass. I know a lot of older men like us curvy young girls. Also I know I look young, because Im so short, but Im 19. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. You can check my license. Im a big girl, and anything you do with me would be legal.

I'll be happy to let you use my body in any way you like. Feel free to tie me up and gag me and leave me to struggle for hours alone in the dark. I wouldn't be able to stop you if you wanted to take lots of dirty pictures and videos of me, to share with your pery old friends. You could spank and whip my fat tits and butt, or even put ouchy clips on my nipples.

If you wanted to humiliate me in front of your male friends, or publicly, in ways that wouldn't get me arrested or doxed, that might be fun for you as well. You could take me to a secluded nature area or alley and have me strip for you, and not allow me to get dressed or back in the car till I preformed naughty challenges first.

If you'd like me to do any roll play for you, I would be more than willing. Maybe you'd like to bring home a tied up Hooters girl, or see me crawling around in a slave Princess Leia costume, or have a sexy French maid to cook and scrub for you, or perhaps you'd enjoy me squeezed into my teeny girl scout uniform and knocking on your door, all cute on your porch ready to be kidnapped.

I would be a good slave and serve you well. Iv'e been learning to strip and I can already twerk real good. I love to suck cock and I hardly ever gag. You might like to have me suck your penis every day. Also my bald little teen pussy is really tight and you can play with it however you like. I'm on the pill and I'm clean so you can cum in me all you like. My little puss has hardly ever been used, and yours could be the first penis to go into it while I was awake, blush.

Any way those are just some ideas, and Im sure you'll come up with many more. I really hope you take full advantage of this opportunity to fulfill all your wildest and darkest fantasies, at my expense.

Your Slave

Kelly"

While he was distracted by the text, I unobtrusively produced a zip tie, and looped it around my wrists behind my back. I pulled it tight trapping my wrists. I wanted the creep to have my fat ass completely helpless. After rifling through the photos, he let out a low appreciative whistle, and looked down at me and said with a smirk. "Dear diary... bingo!"

Taking a long look at my huge teen breasts he grinned and undid another two buttons on my dress, causing my chest to spill out obscenely, and putting most of my bra and cleavage on full display. "Let me get a better look at my new property." Then I was sucking in my breath, as his fat sausage finger ruffly groped me jugs. I squirmed, and let out a frustrated moan, exquisitely aware of being half dressed, tied, and publicly molested. He hadn't waisted any time in getting his filthy paws on me. In one scene it was a relief, I had been terrified he wouldn't want a chubby little slave like me. I was actually flattered that he would want to bind and whip and play with me. I was so proud he had called me his "property".

I giggled nervously and tried and failed to meet the older man's eyes. Looking me over like a piece of meat he said, "Wait there slave girl. Daddy will be right back."

So there I found myself, hands bound behind my back, waiting on his front porch in my tiny half buttoned dress, when I heard footsteps. I twirled to see the post man coming up whistling. In a panic, I turned to face him, pretended to be stretching in hopes of hiding my bound wrists. It seemed convincing, but it forced me to arch my back and push out my massive jugs. The mailman got a very good view of my half exposed tits. I blushed catching him staring at my well displayed cleavage.

I was terrified. It was gross how he was looking at my boobs, but I sure didn't want him to notice I was tied up. He would think I was some sort of kinky bimbo... and he'd be right. Part of me wanted the postman to see me tied up tight, and in less than my partly unbuttoned work dress. Part of me wanted to be stripped naked, and humiliated in front of this man, any man, many men...

My puss tingling, I mustered what calm I could, and greeted the mailman, a neighborhood fixture who has known me all my life. I told him I was waiting on some money for a food delivery for Mr. Smith. I bubble on mentioning that I was in this awkward position because I was trying to stretch out a sore back. The postman just grinned at this and took a long look at my chest before telling me I was "looking very lovely today" before stuffing Mr. Smith's mailbox and heading on.

I had almost panicked when the postman came up, and by the time Mr. Smith finally returned my face was bright red, and I was panting lightly. He drought me a pink leather dog collar with a big ring in the front, that in no time tightly circles my throat. Mr. Smith clipped on a chain leash and jerked me into the house. As the door shut and locked behind me, I knew my fate was sealed.

-

I'm was led down a shadowy hall, to a room that could only be described as a "man cave". The space was cluttered without being actually filthy. Mr. Smith relaxed on a sofa facing a big screen, and putting his dinner on a TV tray, left me to stand squarely, bound wrist tied and collared in his living room. I looked around and my heart waived a bit. Amongst the fishing trophies and sports memorabilia, there was porn everywhere. There were bikini beer adds on the walls, piles of old girly magazines on tables and chairs, a tall stack of porn DVDs sat by the TV. At a glance I could see scary titles like Cruel Spankings, Whipped School Girls, Ropes and Tears, and many more. At a small desk sat a computer and a box of tissues. A screen saver on the computer, showed a slide show of elaborately bound and gagged Asian women dressed as school girls.

What fallowed next was an interview of sorts, more of a confession really. Mr. Smith ate as he grilled me. It was over big mouthfuls of meatloaf and gravy mashed potatoes that he questioned me in detail about my sex life, turn ones, masturbation habits ext. He recorded it all, much to my later regret, with a cell phone propped up against a beer bottle on his TV tray.

He took the opportunity to look me over, and had me pose for him, turn and show him my back side. He had me bend over again, like I did when I flashed him in the restaurant. This time however I spread my legs wide, and I stay bent over showing off my shapely ass, and tiny black panties, until instructed to stand back up. After that I was told to stand still, feet wide, chest stuck out, until instructed otherwise.

After thoroughly checking me out, he sighed. "Your cute. Very cute. Nice fat tits and ass, cute... fuckable. You're the getable type, pretty face, and enough curves to get dudes off, but your too chubby to intimidate them. You're what we called in my day getable." His words cut me to the core. He knew how to hone right in on my insecurities.

Tears welled in my eyes, and I felt a tiny trickle down one cheek. Desperately I blinked back my tears as he went on. "You were right in your note Kelly, us older men do like chubby little sluts like you. But you just a little too fat for daddy. Starting tomorrow, you'll be doing an hour of running every morning, as well as squats, lunges, hip thrusts, and some deadlifting. Were going to get you on that bubble butt routine." Mortified with shame, all I could whisper was "Yes Daddy".

Shoveling food in his mouth, Mr. Smith questions me about my fantasies. I confess I have very little sexual experience, but I was obsessed with bondage. I told him about my life long fascination with tie-ups, kidnapping, and cage scenes in cartoons, movies, and TV. I told him I usually masterbated many times a day, imagining myself bound, gagged, and abused, always by gross mature men. When I mention some of the tie-ups I fantasize about, hog tie, box tie, frog tie, crotch rope, he cuts me off "You watch bondage porn, you naughty little thing. What websites do you like?"

I stood there flabbergasted, hands bound, tits and bra spilling out, while he shoveled food into his mouth and awaited my reply. Looking at dirty pics and videos online was such a private thing to me, I didn't think I could tell him. I had never admitted to anyone I even looked at porn, but I knew I had no choice but to obey. I told him my account name and password for several top bondage sights.

My new master had a screen share, and in no time he had my favorite videos up on the big tv. I had to simply stand there a pant, while he click through my favorite videos lists, playing a minute of a video here or there. It was terrifying, humiliating, and it was making my pussy so wet.

I had a taste for classic bondage, and I especially loved the videos that ended with the girl stripped completely naked, or being carried off to slavery, or with an implied rape. A number of my favorite videos involved age play, mature women humiliating them selves by playing babysitters, school girls and cheerleaders. There were videos of girls being spanked till their bottoms were bright red. There were even a few clips of girls being dominated and spanked by other girls. OMG, how embracing.

Pausing on a video of a thick, pale, huge titted girl, rolling around in tight bondage, wiggling her ass and boobs seductively for the camera, and moaning uncontrollably with pleasure, Mr. Smith looked at me and chuckled, "Wow this is some heavy bondage porn. Your pretty fucked up for such a young woman. What happened to you? How did you become such a little submissive slut? Tell daddy. I want to hear everything. Every sexual experience, especially the bad ones. Every dude that was ever a creep around you. Your deepest darkest desires. Spill... and I'll know if your lying"

I was terrified to revile such intimate details, things I had never shared with anyone, but it was also in a way a relief. I was not alone, I finally had someone to confide in. For the first time in my kinky life it was ok for me to be a naughty little submissive. At that moment I felt genuine love for the abusive old predator, and I fell into his trap. I told him everything. I mean everything, and it turned out to be a huge mistake...

I spilled my guts, giving a detailed history of my sex life from my first cartoon bondage crush, to my first kiss, to the first time I let a man put his penis in my mouth. I told him about the collage boy who date raped me, about waking up sore on his floor, being laughed at school as a slut, and about how worthless and gross it made me feel to have to text him after and cover up what he did to me. He heard the story of my mom's creepy boss, how he molested me, forced me to blow him, and how his abuse made me cum. I tell him about the disgusting Mexican chef at my work, and how my boss lets him grab my ass.

I tell Mr. Smith about my mom's disgusting older brother Charley. How as long as I can remember I've caught him staring at my legs and ass. How uncle Charley would put his hands on my bottom when my mother wasn't looking. How I had found a folder of bathing suite photos of me on his computer, gathered from family albums and social media. The way uncle Charley always seemed to accidentally come into the room whenever I was changing or in the shower. How I had barley escaped being molested by him, when my mother left me at his apartment for the weekend once.

Mr. Smith just gave a "go on" gesture with one hand and continues gobbling his supper. I elaborated on my fantasies. I confessed that I was obsessed with strippers. The idea of being exposed in front of dirty old men, to have to dance for them, serve them, to humiliate myself for there cash and approval, drove me wild. As best as I could with hands tied behind my back and wearing a leash I danced for Mr. Smith. I shook my ass and tits, pull up my skirt and twerk for him. Mr. Smith enjoyed the free show, taking lots of pictures and video.

Next he scrolls to a femdom spanking video, on my bondage favorites list, and let it roll without the sound asking me to spell out why I liked it so much. I tried to explain that I'm not gay. I really love cock. The idea of doing naughty things with another girl really grosses me out. However the idea of being forced to kiss and touch and lick another girl to entertain older men really got me wet.

Finally, Mr. Smith finished eating, and the interrogation was over. My leash was yanked hard, and I'm was dragged down into Mr. Smith dungeon, to meet my fate.

At the bottom of dark stairs, we come to a fairly large concert room. There was a high ceiling, exposed beams hung with ropes, chains, pulleys, winches, and big metal hooks with rounded balls on their tips. (I found out later these were called ass hooks.) There was a rack with every conceivable item for hitting a person with. He had everything from ping pong panels, to leather belts, to bull whips and canes. There were candles, a hot plate, and what looked like brands. Mr. Smith had a strange electrical hook up with lots of crazy wires, and clamps that looked like the clamps for a car battery. I saw what looks like a set-up for doing piercings at home. Passing an open drawer I saw dildos neatly lined up. He had everything from tinny plugs up to monster falsies that look like they would kill a person. There were clips, claps, and metal torcher devices I had no idea of the use of, and there was rope. Lots and lots of rope, chains, cuffs, and restraints hanging and stacked everywhere. I ask my self "What have I gotten my chubby little white ass into how?"

When I look back at Mr. Smith after my inspection of the torcher chamber, I saw him taking off his clothes and dawning a ski mask. Dressed he was a hairy hulking brute, but in only but briefs and a mask he was nothing short of horrifying. His identity safe, Mr. Smith set two high quality cameras rolling, one getting my front and the other my shapely rear. Before I had a chance to ask what he had planned for me, a ball gag the size of a tennis ball was yanked into my mouth forcing my jaws wide apart.

Next he replaced my self bondage zip tie with ropes, binding my hands tightly, then pulling the loose end of the rope over a rafter, and jerking me into a stiff strappado. My legs were thoroughly roped and groped, and a cord was looped around my waist, over my thong, and yanked into my ass crack and delicate teenage vagina.

He touched me everywhere, making me feel like a total object. He pawed at my big boobs, pulling them out of my bra, groping my chest so hard he left little fingerprint bruises in my pale flesh. And that's where you found me. Where this twisted little tale began. With my curvy ass bound and gagged, the voluntary slave of a sadistic old creep...

Mr. Smith didn't leave me to dangle and rub on my crotch rope long. Taking a heavy leather belt down from the rack he approached me with a grin of pure evil. He tucked my skirt up into the waste line of my crotch rope and it was obvious what was coming next.

I couldn't believe it. Things were going so fast. I had only been in the dungeon for 10 minuets and I was already about to get my first whipping. I giggled into my gag, thinking this was so naughty. I imagined I was a sexy-kidnapped princess about to be spanked by an evil troll, and I moaned with pleasurable anticipation.

The first slam of the belt brought me to reality with a jolt. The pain was as surprising as it was intense. For some reason I didn't think it would hurt all that bad. What a dizt I was. I just imagined the horniness and naughtiness of being tied and abused. Ouchy! I didn't think it would really hurt that bad. The first blow felt more like getting hit with a board than a strap, and the sting afterward was terrible.

My breath caught in my throat, and saliva flew from my ball gag. The next blow came crashing down before I could catch my breath, and my scream was cut off by a slobbery cough. Mr. Smith knew what he was doing, and now that he had the advantage, he beat me hard and fast, timing his strikes, so I never had a chance to catch my breath or exhale on impact. I squealed like a stuck pig and begged for mercy, but the fat troll just laughed and kept right on raising welts all over my big, fat, white, teenage princess butt.

Finally, he stopped hitting me and I caught my breath, realizing that tears streaked my cheeks making my eyeliner run. My reprieve did not last long. Mr. Smith, a huge erection tenting the front of his briefs, undid the cords digging into my legs. Producing a spreader bar, Mr. Smith kicked my feet wide apart, strapping each ankle in and forcing me to keep my legs spread wide.

Then he loosened my crotch rope, fingering the wet section that had been in my vagina with obvious approval. Mr. Smith grinned at me like a devil as he ran his hand over my sopping wet panties. "Looks like you love a beating, thats good to know."

Then he hit me in the vagina with the belt as hard as he could. The blow was totally unexpected, and I bellowed into my gag spit flying. Little shouting would do for me though, even without the ball gag, down in this concrete bunker, no one would hear me scream. No one was coming to save the cute little waitress who had strayed into this perverts basement. I jerked at my bonds and begged and pleaded through my gag, but the dirty old man just laughed and hit me even harder. I was going to get my pussy beaten, weather I liked it or not.

The next few minutes were a blur for me as my pain scale went through the roof, and I went into full on panic attack mode. Adrenalin surged through my young body with each blow to the most sensitive part of a girls body. The fact that I was insanely horny, and my clit was super swollen and sensitive only compounded my agony and shame.

After he had softened my pussy up, he produced a Hitachi vibrating wand, and pressed it to my bruised puss. It hurt to have my vagina touched at all, but the vibrator still felt amazing. I ground my hips on the toy despite to orgasm. Mr. Smith only gave me a few moments of pleasure, before returning to his belt whipping of my ass and pussy.

Now he punctuated the beating with longer and longer intervals with the vibrator. He was training my body to respond to a beating with sexual pleasure, and it was working. Every time I approached orgasm, he would take away the wand, and hit me some more. Finally, when my ass was black and blue, and my pussy felt like she might burst, he held the toy to my clit said the magic words. "Come for daddy."

Then I exploded. It was the most powerful orgasm I had ever experienced in my life. My hips spasmed and my thick legs shook. I'm sure if I hadn't been hanging by my arms, I would have collapsed to the cold hard floor. Catching my breath I looked up at the cameras and realized that Mr. Smith has broken me. He broke my spirit like a skilled rider breaks in a wild horse. He broke me, and he got it all on camera.

Glancing behind me, I saw the dirty old man stepping out of his briefs, and waddling towards me naked, furry, and erect. His fat old man dick emerging from a mass of tangled dark pubic hair, filling me with eagerness and fear. He had a huge penis, both fat and long, much bigger than any of the boys my own age. It was a real daddy dick. Again the image popped into my head of a princess in a dungeon with a troll.

A moment later, I felt his callused hands sliding my thong aside, cupping my pussy, and spreading my lips. Then came the feeling of the tip of his dirty old dick pushing into my wet and willing hole. I gasped in rapture as he slid all the way into me, filling me up. It was the first time I had ever had sex, at least the first time while I was awake.

When he first shoved into me, I did my best to look into the camera, and give my best wide-eyed "How could you look". I love the way the girls in the bondage videos would pop there eyes big whenever something really naughty happened to them.

He raped me so causally, almost like an afterthought. Like being the first man to put his penis in me wile I was conscious was just a way for him to unwind after a long day and a hard beating. The nonchalance and disdain he showed for me got me so aroused. I felt like nothing more than an object, a sex doll, a fuck toy. I was lower than a whore, lower than a dog, and I loved it.

He grabbed my hips and slammed it into me, pumping my wet little hole, letting me swing by my aching wrists. His balls slapping against my sore and over excited clit made me moan with pleasure, and within a few moments of his entering me, I climaxed again. I think it was the humiliation of how he had taken advantage of me, and how much my body liked it, as much as anything that pushed me over the edge that time.

Whatever the reason I came again, and I came hard. My young pussy clenched on Mr. Smith's huge cock, and I moaned like a bitch in heat. It wasn't long after that, that I felt the first load of many, many loads, that Mr. Smith would pump into me. As the dirt old man, old enough to be my father, filled me up with cum, the thought that kept going through my head was "This is your first sexual experience." I knew I'd remember and be marked by this all my life.

Pulling out Mr. Smith let me just drip there for a moment, basking in my post orgasm bliss. I wiggled my butt and pussy for the camera in my rear, still unable to stop grinding. I looked directly into the camera in front of me and winked, trying to smile seductively around my gag. I thought the video image of me right now must look really hot, bound, gagged, and freshly raped.

I wondered if Mr. Smith would let me watch the video. That would be so hot. Then it came to me for the first time. "What if he posts the videos?" Im such a ditz, it only occurred to me right then. My stomach laughed and my pulse started to race. I had loved the sexy bondage models on the web, but was I ready to become one? It was a terrifying though. My big tits and ass on display for the whole world to see. Is this how those girl wound up in the business? Were they all sex slaves like me? What would it feel like to have thousands of older men jerking off to my videos? That idea made my pussy tingle.

A moment later Mr. Smith returned, carrying a decent sized butt plug. At the sight of it I came out of my reverie, shaking my head vehemently "No!" I had learned recently what that naughty little toy was for. I knew how it was used to get a person's anus stretched out and ready for butt sex. But I didn't want to have my butt fucked, oh no!

For some reason, I had assumed that anal would be off the table. Butt sex was such an exotic idea to me, I really thought it only happened in porn. Just like how I had somehow convinced myself that he would never post nude images of me, or that getting whipped and tied up wouldn't really hurt. What a stupid little bimbo I was.

Now it was too late for me to back out. I was tightly roped, helpless and at the mercy of Mr. Smith's every twisted whim. I had foolishly handed my sweet little tushy over to the dirty old man, and I only had myself to blame if I wound up with a fat dick shoved up my teenage ass.

He held the horrible thing up in my face, so I could get a good view. The plug looked enormous and I thought "That will never fit in my bottom." It's going to rip me in half first. I would learn soon enough, that it was actually a relatively small plug. Lubing up the toy he laughed at my fear. "The look on your face right now is precious. So glad I'm recording this all. Now do daddy a favor. Look right into that camera when I pop this little bad boy it."

"Please No! Please not my butt!' I screamed into the ball gag, but Mr. Smith just laughed and spread my cheeks. "I can't understand you little lady. I think you're saying 'Please shove that toy up my ass daddy, please.' That's what it sounds like to me." A moment later I felt the pointy tip of toy pressing against my virgin back door. I squeezed as hard as I could trying to resist the invasion, but bound and spreader barred, there was no hope. "That's right little slave girl, resist it, make me force it in. It will hurt worse that way."

I knew he was right. That thing was going up my but weather I liked it or not. I understood that if I tried to relax, breath, and submit, it might be less painful. I took a deep shaky breath and focused my gaze at the camera directly in front of me, wanting to be a good slave. Exhaling slowly I relaxed my anus and felt the toy slide in more and more. I let out a squeak, and my eyes bugged out wide, when the plug's widest point stretched my opening. I kept my eyes locked on the camera, and tried not to cry too much as the toy slid in. This time my eye-popping was totally natural.

With the plug now securely in my ass, Mr. Smith pulled my panties back up, and retied my crotch rope. Then he taped the vibrating wand to one of my legs, so the tip was pressed right up on the crotch rope knots over my clit. He also added a blindfold, letting me know "This way, I can leave you alone in darkness, while the cameras catch everything. I'm going to the bar for a few drinks, and when I come back. Im going to ram my cock up that sweet little teen ass or yours. Then let you lick it clean. Your in for it now slave girl. Daddy is going to have fun with you. You're going to be doing some assignments for me. You'll be doing some, 'Challenges' as your generation might call them. I'll be sending you out into the big world to do some naughty things... and you'll have to bring back video. And if Im not satisfied by how you preform you will be severely punished."

Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this story, further parts art in the works. I always appreciate your ideas, so if any of y'all have thoughts about future assignments for Kelly, please comment below.