Hopefully you will read the earlier stories about how I came to live with my aunt and how I came to dress up as Molly. OK, who am I kidding - How I came to be Molly. But in case you're rushing - I'm a college student who came to live with his aunt. Having no money, we started doing video dates, where I was Molly, a red-headed girl, not Brian, a brown haired boy - which is who my parents still think I am.
A mild warning to those following my misadventures: This is a different style of story and therefore in the BDSM category.
Anyone who's on the internet knows what trolls are like. I know what trolls are like. But knowing and dealing with them isn't always the same.
After my big reveal, we got some comments on our videos. I'm pretty sure we were getting comments all along, but for whatever reason, I hadn't been reading them. I think I assumed Aunt Janey was taking care of that stuff, and she was.
But these were not all nice comments! Most of them were. Things like "Awesome", or "Janey I want to suck your tits", you know - poetry. But a lot of them were more along the lines of "I knew she was a boy all along. She's too ugly to be a girl." or "That sissy freak needs to come to my house and I'll split his ass." Until now, I had never considered myself a sissy, a freak or ugly.
Now, I don't want to give you the impression that I read a couple of negative comments and I turned into a petulant child. More to the truth, I read a couple dozen negative comments, and it got me mad. I was frustrated that after seeing two people who were clearly in love have some of the best sex possible in this human world, these guys were critical. I'd watched the live footage and the edited footage. These guys were getting more than they paid for, and they were being bitchy.
So I guess I was a little pouty, but I just wanted to get away from it. Aunt Janey was out at a store, so I left her a note and went out to a bar. I had a little bit of money in my account, and I figured I'd go have a couple of beers. Well, a couple turned into about six hours of drinking. No idea how I got home, but apparently I have an angel on my shoulder because I neither wrecked, nor got pulled over.
I was pretty exhausted and pulled off all my clothes and fell into bed. That made sense to me. I have no idea what time of night it was, but I awoke to Aunt Janey right in my face. She was mad! "Where have you been all night? Why didn't you answer your phone? Who do you think you are scaring the crap out of me like that?"
Really, I had no idea where I was or what was going on at that point. So I reached for my phone, assuming it was in my pants pocket. But I wasn't wearing pants at the moment. Oh, and my arm didn't move when I tried. I was slowly realizing that I was tied up, or more to the point, tied down. My arms were securely tied to the head board. My legs seemed to be tied to the legs of the bed, and under my hips were two or three big pillows, pushing my ass way up in the air. Yep, Aunt Janey was mad!
Her face had disappeared for the moment. I don't know what time it was or how long it took her to tie me down, but clearly this wasn't too much after I had gotten home, because I was still drunk - really drunk - tequila shooters kind of drunk. I was still trying to work out how she had tied me up, but I have a feeling maneuvering drunk guys who have passed out, might have been something she had some experience with. But I didn't get why she was so mad.
She was going to explain it to me. The first blow came completely by surprise. She had spanked me on my elevated bottom, and it hurt. That pain ripped through the drunkenness and scored in my brain. For that to happen, it must have been damn hard. Then the other side, and again, and again. Tears were starting to well up in my eyes.
