Author's Note: Second story. I like criticism.


From a very young age, I had fantasized about being tied up tightly. Not even in a sexual way, really. I must have been about 13 or 14 when I searched for images of tied up women on the internet, and ways I could tie myself up, although I never actually had the courage to tie myself up. These web searches landed me on various bdsm sites, and so this desire to be tied up soon led to a desire to be humiliated, used and, to an extent, tortured. Of course I never told any of my friends or anybody that I really knew. Even if on the extremely rare occasion, my friends would joke about being tied up and that sort of thing, or see an S&M scene in a movie and say things like, "That's you in the movie. That's your wet dream isn't it", which would result in immature laughter, there was just no way I could tell anyone. It wasn't even a trust issue, I just didn't want to be seen that way.

When I was 17 I started reading bdsm stories frequently and planning ahead for when I had enough money to move out. I imagined by the time I was 21 or so I would own a variety of toys and restraints and could start doing bdsm activities for real. I couldn't wait that long though. Maybe if my desires were more about sex and less extreme, but I had a strong want for total humiliation, not just sex with some fluffy handcuffs and some light spanking.

I couldn't wait until I was 21, and so when I was 18 and in the last year of school I thought of ways to find a master. I thought about using the internet, but for some reason never got around to it. An idea came to me when I was using a public toilet at a local beach. It was a pretty dirty place. Graffiti, wet floors, rust. Not that it was unsafe, at least during the day time. Almost blending in with the graffiti were phone numbers with desperate messages next to them like, "Call if you want your pussy licked" and "Call me. I love to eat pussy".

I wondered if anyone actually ever called these numbers, but I thought I may as well give it a shot. Apparently there's a lot of weird people in my area anyway. A lot of old people mainly. I liked the idea of being dominated by an old person more, since they would probably be more experienced. I also thought it would be more humiliating, since I'd be much more reluctant to swallow an old man's sperm than a hot young guy. Maybe I'd be in luck and get some type of weirdo, although hopefully not the psychotic type.

When it was late, about midnight, I snuck into the male bathroom and wrote on the wall with a black marker. By 'snuck', I mean I pretty much just looked around and walked in. I rarely saw people go into these toilets. I wrote, "18 year old slut looking for a strict master. Preferably an older man with a lot of experience. No real experience in bdsm, but want to be introduced to it the hard way." I then wrote my phone number next to it. If I saw the message on the wall, I probably wouldn't have trusted it, but hopefully that was just the way I thought. I also thought that someone I knew might see it and recognize my number. I guess I could always just say someone was playing a prank on me, but who would write something like that even for a prank...

This led to me meeting a 51 year old man named Vincent. He lived near the beach, and although the beach was a pretty crappy one, the houses close to it were alright. He had grey hair that looked to be balding a little bit, his face wasn't all that attractive, I guess a little bit better looking than most men his age, and he was only a bit of a weirdo. He told me that he'd been into cross dressing for a long time, but also that he liked to have subs, although mostly boys. My paedophile alarm was ringing, but then he told me that these "boys" were often a bit older than me and that he usually had them dressed as women. He commented on the fact that he never found girls as young as me that were into bdsm as much as I am. I took it as a compliment.

Since I met him, I went around to his house quite often. He got noticeably more controlling and cruel, which I had no problem with. Of course I never told my parents that I had this 51 year old male "friend".

I decided to surprise him one time by telling work that I was busy and wouldn't be able to make my early Sunday shift. This allowed me to sleep at his place and for us to "play" for much longer.

He wasn't really all that wealthy, so his house wasn't some type of mansion. It was actually pretty average.

I knocked on his door dressed in denim short shorts, white canvas sneakers and a pink tank top. He motioned me inside as he greeted me by roughly grabbing a handful of my hair and sticking his tongue down my throat which I never particularly enjoy. But I guess that's the point!

"Thank you, sir. I have good news. I'm able to stay the night here if you want." I said, trying to sound half casual, half submissive.

He sort of smiled, "Good girl. You can stay in the cell down in the basement where sluts belong. I know you've spent time in there before, but this time I won't make it so comfortable for you. Even though there's no way you'd get out of the cell, you're still going to be in chains. We wouldn't want you to escape. When do you have to be home tomorrow?"

As I was taking all my clothes off as was now expected of me when entering his house, I answered, "Yes, sir. I told them I would probably be home in the evening or very late at night."

"Good. I've had a pretty bad week and I've been waiting for a while to use you now. Hearing young, dumb sluts like you beg and cry always makes me feel better. One day you should really move in with me. Having a dumb bimbo in my basement for me to use and torture whenever I want would be great. After a while it probably wouldn't sit too well with you, but your opinion doesn't really matter does it?"

"No, sir." I said taking off the last of my clothes. That actually sounded lovely to me. Living in a dirty cell, kept in chains the whole time at the mercy of a sadistic old man. Especially one who really knew how to make me suffer. Maybe if I did move in one day, he would buy me a chastity belt which I would have to wear at all times. I loved the idea. No pleasure for me, just frustration, pain and humiliation. I guess a day would come when I would start to miss my friends, and maybe even my family if that happened.

My clothes were all in a neat pile on a chair next to the front door. He picked up a set of chains which included a metal collar that was about 5 centimetres tall and around 1 centimetre thick, a set of metal wrist shackles with a chain about 10 centimetres long between them and ankle shackles with a chain about 20 centimetres in length between them. The collar had an O-ring on front with a chain that ran to the centre of the chain that ran in between my ankle shackles, running similarly through the chain connecting my wrist shackles, so they were all connected. This chain was very short, about a metre in length and in no way allowed me to stand. It left me either crouching down or crawling on my hands and knees.

He first started with the collar. He had me get on my knees for this. I loved the feel of the metal being wrapped around my neck and the feeling of the collar being locked. At one end of the collar was a hinge, and at the other end was a hasp. Usually when my master put this collar on me, he would simply slip a padlock through the hasp and close it, locking me into the collar. This time he used a wrench, a nut and a bolt to lock the collar around my neck. He didn't say anything, and I didn't comment either, although I did wonder why he did this.

The wrist shackles were next. These were very similar to the collar in the way one end had a hinge and the other had a hasp. These were locked onto me using the wrench, the nut and the bolt as well instead of the padlock. He then made my sit on my bum, and my ankle shackles were attached in the same way.

I was pretty horny by now, which is always an effect of being locked in chains for me. It made me even hornier when he started to buckle a metal ring gag harness onto me. It had a leather strap that ran from the sides of the ring around to the back of my neck, two leather straps that ran from the sides of the gag up over my eyes to the top of my head where they went together to form a strap that connected to the strap that was at the back of my neck and a strap that went under my chin. These were all fastened very tightly and instead of being bolted on, were just padlocked on as usual. The ring gag itself wasn't too big, but would cause a bit of aching after an hour or so and a pretty intense aching pain after several hours. I didn't know whether I hoped he'd make me sleep wearing the gag or not.

"If you're wondering why I didn't use the usual padlocks on your chains, it's so that even if you have the keys to the padlocks you'll still be locked up with no hope of escaping." He said with a small smile.

I wondered why he was stressing so much about me trying to escape. Being a slave was my own choice. It started to make me uneasy. Maybe he was going to do something to me that would make me change my mind or something. It would have to be pretty drastic though. He knew I liked it pretty rough.

He started again, "Anyway, you should start by cleaning up. You know where the rag and bucket is. Before you start though..."

He unzipped his fly and started pumping his erect cock, as he grabbed my hair and positioned my face and open mouth(open due to the ring gag) towards his dick with his other hand. At this time I was on my hands and knees looking up towards him.

He let out a sigh and I could taste his cum in my mouth and feel some of it on my chin and chest.

He let go of my hair, "That should make it hard to forget your place."

I knew what he meant. Since I was gagged the way I was, I couldn't swallow. His cum would just be sitting there on my tongue with its taste which I didn't particularly like. He knew I didn't much like the taste of his cum as well, even though I pretended to love it. Either I told him I didn't like it, which would result in severe punishment, which I know from experience(I was whipped until I cried), or I could tell him I did like it, which would result in him ejaculating onto or into my dinner and breakfast dishes, if he decided that I had even earned the right to eat which had about a 50/50 chance of happening.

I crawled towards his laundry room, the chains rattling as I slowly made my way there to fetch the bucket and rag so I could get to work cleaning his house.

Walking with the bucket and rag was very awkward as I had to hold the bucket quite close to me due to the chains, and walked in a crouched position. I also had to get my body very low just to scrub.

He must have been watching me from somewhere while I was distracted with scrubbing the kitchen floor. As I looked down at the floor, some of his sperm fell out of my mouth and he ordered me to stop cleaning.

"You love my cum don't you, slave?" he said, pointing at the sperm on the floor.

I nodded yes.

"Good, then lick it back up. It belongs in your mouth." I looked at him as he talked, then at the cum.

It was a little difficult to lick it up, since it just kept slipping back off my tongue. I had to sort of slurp it up, but this was the sort of humiliation that really got me off. Naked, locked in chains slurping an old man's cum off the floor to keep in my mouth as I scrubbed his kitchen.

"You really are hungry for it aren't you?" he said while patting me on the head like I was his dog.

Again, I nodded yes. He smiled.

Cleaning just his kitchen look a very long time and I was exhausted by the end of it. To be honest, I'd thought I had finished cleaning a long while ago but was just too scared to stop. No slacking off of any sort.

"It took you that long to clean a kitchen. You started at 3 and it's almost 6. Jesus Christ, you're useless. I'm going to have to find another job for you, since you're clearly too dumb to even do a maid's work. There must be some other way I can use you."

I knew he wasn't really angry. He just liked to make me feel pathetic. He came over to me and unlocked all the padlock on my ring gag ad ordered me to first swallow the cum that had been in my mouth for almost 3 hours now, and then to lick the ring gag to rid it of any left-over cum. By now the sperm on my chin and chest had dried.

"Sorry, sir. Please find another way to use my body." I said trying to sound sorry.

He thought for a second, or at least pretended to think. "I've already thought of one. You'll find out what it is later tonight, whore. For now, consider these clamps as punishment."

He approached me with two pairs of clamps, each attached with chains. One pair was attached to my nipples and the other pair was placed on my pussy lips.

I can't deal with pain all that well, so I find that clamps are very painful until they subside into an aching pain, but I guess I deserved them.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir", was all I said.

I was incredible horny at this moment, but I knew I would not be allowed to cum. I never was. For the entire time I had been visiting Vincent to get my dose of pain and humiliation, not once had we even discussed the possibility of allowing me any orgasms. I wondered what would happen when he locked me in my cell, what precautions he would take to stop me from touching my pussy. Not that I would anyway. If I just cheated and touched myself, why even choose to be a slave?

"Well for now I can think of a way to use that mouth of yours, slut. Come over here." He started unzipping his pants for the second time today, but this time since I wasn't gagged, I knew he'd want some effort on my part. He used his hand to guide his cock into my mouth and then I started sucking and bobbing my head. Midway through, he grabbed a handful of my hair and with his other hand started to slap my face repeatedly quite hard and yelled, "Go faster!".

I got a little bit teary, but sucked like my life depended on it. With each bob, the nipple and pussy clamps would sway causing some pain but I tried to ignore them. He came in my mouth and this time I could actually swallow it, although I allowed it to stir in my mouth and waited for him to order that I swallow it. The order finally came, and I gulped it all down.

My pussy was soaking at this point. The ring gag harness was locked onto me again and I spent a good part of the evening cleaning the house while my master switched between watching television and whipping me with a riding crop. My now the chains were also starting to feel sore and the collar felt heavy. The clamps were finally taken off later almost when it was midnight, which made me moan in pain and bite down hard. Or at least try to bite down around the ring.

It was now midnight when my master said to me, "Usually I'm quite nice with you, but your cock sucking abilities today were nothing special. While you're my slave, you need to work for food and relaxation, so no food for you tonight, although you will be fed plenty. You probably also won't be getting any sleep tonight either."

Of course this was extremely unfair, but this treatment is what I craved. I wondered what he meant by "you will be fed plenty" as well.

He ordered me to "walk" in front of him down the stairs as he whipped my ass, back and the back of my legs with a riding crop. I yelped every time.

Once we were both inside the cell, he used the wrench to unlock my restraints.

"I would have just kept these on you and allowed you to sleep in peace, but tonight we'll try something different."

Once all the chains were off, they were thrown to the side of the cell and my master started to attach a leather arm binder around my arms and over my shoulders. This wasn't all that uncomfortable, but rendered my arms useless. A leather belt was then tied around my ankles, another just above my knees and another at the top of my thighs. I was laying on my stomach at this point. My master then unlocked the ring gag and took it out of my mouth.

My master had a leather hood in his hand which he showed me. He could see how went my pussy was and must have gotten an idea. He started to finger me, but not in the way he would if he was trying to get me off(I would imagine). It was more like using his fingers to scoop my cum up. It was clear why now. He was rubbing his fingers all over the inside of the leather hood, coating it in my juices. He got as much of it as he could without making me orgasm, which was quite a bit since a lot of it was also on my thighs.

The leather hood was placed over my head. I hadn't worn one of these before and so it was a new experience. I could feel my moistness all through my hair and especially all over my face. It smelled very strongly too and some of it seeped down into my mouth. It made me even more wet, as did having my legs crushed so tightly together. The hood was laced tightly to fit the form of my head and then a heard a zip up the back. I was in darkness. The hood had no eyes holes, only a hole where my mouth was, holes for my nostrils and padding over my ears. A posture collar was also placed around my neck which made me face pretty much directly into the floor.

I didn't know how long I was left like that lying on the floor in discomfort. There wasn't even a mattress, just a dirty concrete basement floor. It was surprisingly warm down there too, and soon I could feel myself sweating a bit, which made the dirt from the floor stick to my skin. I could especially feel a lot of dirt around the tops of my thighs and my pussy, too. I had a dirty pussy.

I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and I wondered what my master was going to do to me this time. I felt something attached to my collar and then I felt that I was being tugged upwards onto my knees. I felt a cock trying to find its way into my mouth and so naturally I opened my mouth. It was strange though. It didn't feel like master's cock. It was a bit larger, but had a different shape too.

I didn't know what to do. It sort of scared me, but then I remember that master said I would get "fed" tonight. This is probably what he meant. I sucked anyway. He ejaculated into my mouth and I could feel a lot of it also splash onto my body. After I swallowed, he forcefully pushed my face back down to the floor. I landed more lightly than I would have expected.

These little occurrences happened many times throughout the night. I must have sucked about 15 different guys off. Some of them even commented on my get up. Saying things like, "No wonder your master said we shouldn't use your pussy. That thing looks filthy," and "I don't know what's dirtier, the cunt sucking my dick, or your actual cunt."

By the end of the night, the front of my body was covered in cum and I couldn't get the taste out of my mouth. I don't know what time it was when my master came down stairs and started talking to me. The padding made it a little bit hard to hear, but he must have been talking loudly.

"You're much better at sucking strangers' cocks than you are at domestic house work, but I guess a dumb bimbo slut like you would be. You sucked off fifteen different men and made me seventy-five dollars. Good work, whore. You've earned a little rest. I'll come back down a wake you up later." With that I heard him exit the cell, lock the cell door and leave.

I was a little stunned. I had no idea that he would actually whore me out like a common prostitute. He could have at least suggested that he would do so. And seventy-five dollars total? That's only like, five dollars per blow job! He could have made more off me than that, surely!

That's when I realized, it wasn't about making money at all. It was just him making me not forget my place. Actually making me feel like a whore, an object for his use. I wondered if he'd do this often in the future. I could only hope so.

I don't know how much later it was when he came to wake me up. He undid all of my restraints and asked if I had a good sleep. I think he was trying to gauge my reaction towards what he had done to me. Or rather towards what he'd made me do so he was being a little cautious. Once he saw that I was still acting submissive, he knew I was alright with it though and he was back to being cruel, the way I liked.

He led me roughly up stairs by my hair which was matted with my own cum from the hood, as was my face and I saw that it was already dark outside. I must have slept all day. My arms and legs hurt.

I think it's important to mention that throughout my time at my master's house, I did have bathroom visits, I just didn't want to mention them every time.

I felt very dirty and I stank of cum quite a lot, but I was too scared to mention a shower or bath. I saw that it was now 11:30 in the night time and thought I should probably get going home soon.

Still naked, being dragged by my hair to the front door, my master asked, "So how does it feel knowing that you're an actual whore? Sucking off strangers for money, none of which you'll be getting by the way."

"It feels good, sir." I said walking beside him with my neck bent to accommodate the grip he had on my hair.

I saw some clothes laid out, which must have been for me.

"Alright. One last time for the night, suck me off."

I quickly dropped to my knees and guided his cock into my mouth. It felt weird sucking someone off without being restrained in some way. After a while he pushed my face away from him and I saw him ejaculate.

The clothes he'd laid out for me were a pair of black leather knee height boots with inches that looked to be about 4 inches, which since I'm not that tall are quite high for me, a black pleather skirt that was so short it would only take a few seconds to ride up and expose my ass, and so I needed to keep pulling it down, a leather collar with metal letters that spelt out SLUT on the front and black boob tube that had the word 'whore' written on the front of it in pink in italics, which now also had the insides covered in my master's cum as that's where he shot his load just seconds ago.

He told me to hurry up and put everything on. "That's a whore's outfit. You should feel natural in that," he said. "Whenever you come here, I want you to be wearing those clothes. And be grateful, I bought those for you. They cost oh, less than seventy-five dollars."

"Thank you, sir", I said, putting the boob tube on feeling cum on my tits.

He buckled the collar around my neck himself then again grabbing my hair, forcefully pushed me outside, which caused me to stumble a bit due to the heels, and closed the door. I heard it lock. I smiled to myself. I would have to walk home dressed like a cheap prostitute, smelling like cum. As I had some dry sperm on my stomach and the boob tube didn't go that low, if I walked past anyone, they could probably make out what it was too. As well as the dry flakes on my face. Of course I could just unbuckle the collar and take it off, but that's cheating and where's the fun in that?

At least my parents wouldn't be awake for when I went home. I should really take time off work more often.