Usual deal: Don't read this if you're don't supposed to!
Thanks to the site(s) that host stories like mine. Support
the sites that support us! And write me if you like! - Katie
How I got into this is another story in itself. In fact it's a rather long and pointless one, detailing the gradual sexual awakening, exploration and – eventually – submission of a teenage girl over a couple of years. And frankly the though of writing a 100kb or more text file is about as attractive to me as reading it is to you I'm sure. So here's a little bit of back ground and what you need to know, if you feel like skipping to the sex sir or ma'am, scroll down 'til you see the asterix's:
My name is Katie. I live in Melbourne, Australia. I am an eighteen year old (almost nineteen by the time you'll read this: mid 2006. Gifts of cash, alcohol and drugs will be considered!) girl. Longish (shoulder length) dark brunette hair. Slim but curvy body kept in shape by pilates, swimming, indoor soccer and an athletic sex life. I have extremely large (14dd) breasts for someone my age, my doctor says that I'll probably need a reduction at some point in the next few years otherwise I'll start having chronic back problems, but for now they don't belong to me and that's not for me to decide. I am a bisexual, collared and owned submissive slave girl. My Mistress is a 24 year old American expat named Cassandra, or Cassie, or to me, Mistress Cassie, or more simply 'Goddess', and more frequently 'oh please put it deeper in my ass ma'am'. To her and the people she makes me serve I'm known as cumslut, fuckpig, slavewhore, cumbucket, and I'm sure, many other contractions. I am so totally fucking for real you probably won't believe it. Hell I'm on a couple of dating/S&M sites, try and find me and say hello.
I've been collared to Mistress Cassie for the best part of a year now, from the day I turned eighteen and legal. Any relationship we had before that is none of your business. But on that day, we both knew the fun would really being to start. See, Mistress Cassie wants me to be a whore. In theory I am, but my experience is somewhat lacking: sure I've fucked my way through significant portions of the male and female population of my highschool, and a couple of others that feed into my social circle as well. But that's slutty. Slutty is seeing the eight guys you sucked off at the party the same Monday morning, and probably giving one of them another gobbie in the toilets after class if he's brave enough to approach you. Truly whorish is coming home covered in the jizz of a bloke or three who's names you never even got, and will never see you again. I've always had a kinky bent, had nasty fantasies, and a submissive side. Mistress Cassie loves to bring that out and encourage it, not the least because it gives her many excuses to punish me in exquisitely painful and perverted ways for being such a goddamn fucking whore. She wants to see me be a whore, I want to be a filthy whore, it feels great to be a filthy whore; let's find a way for me to be a filthy whore.
Now mind you, I may be submissive but that doesn't automatically mean idiot. In fact I can say without false modesty that I am quite intelligent and possibly too analytical for my own good, as I think about, deconstruct and negotiate with the terms and realities of my willful slavery on a daily basis. I willingly submit to obey my Mistress to the letter, knowing that to fail her will result in my punishment, knowing that I won't be rewarded for pleasing her, in fact I'll probably just be punished anyway: I am there to please her. Blessed with a body like mine, I can't help but think I was designed for sex, to pleasure women and men who have the ability to dominate me on an intellectual and physical level, to make me feel like the submissive, inferior piece of meat I love to be. It's half playing a role, and it's half a feeling of degradation and powerlessness that starts somewhere in my cunt and spreads out over my body, making my face flush and my toes curl.
In fantasy land I could go out on the street naked, with a box of condoms taped to my forehead, and let any man, woman and/or beast have their way with me, with no consequences. Holy fuck the thought of that just made me very wet. But, as wu tang financial say, this ain't trading places, this is real fucking life. To do that involves breaking all kinds of laws and taboos and runs the risk of abuse and disease. Part of the thrill of this for me is its my dirty little secret. Hell I still even live with my parents, and they have no idea what's going on (lolz)! So for both safety and secrecy, we're lucky we have the internet.
Not long after my eighteenth birthday I signed up for a few internet dating sites. Mistress Cassie and I drew up a strict set of rules as to whom I could meet with and what I could do with them. Designed partly for my own protection, and partly just to remind me that Mistress Cassie controls me completely – like her order that on every fourth day I have to write 'this whore is property of Mistress Cassie' on a piece of tape and attach it to my left breast, so its there pulling at the skin all day, reminding me who owns that skin – these rules are inviolable and to be obeyed to the letter. I'm a good slave girl, and I do what I'm told.
Basically I created profiles telling guys I wanted to meet with them to give them handjobs. I am slavewhorekatie, the hj expert! In my role as being a piece of meat designed to please other, superior people (ie everyone who's not me), I was to seek one off meetings with people to serve them, to get them off. Handjobs in particular were considered appropriate as I experience no physical stimulation at all in giving them, beyond the horny thrill of having a thick pulsing dick cumming in my hands of course. Mistress Cassie considered it the ultimate use of my body solely for someone else's pleasure. However, she made it allowable for me to use my talented mouth on guys over six inches in endowment, and offer tit wanks to guys seven and up.
Sounds like a recipe for spam, doesn't it? And it is, I get approximately 50-75 emails every day to my profile. To help cull it even more the men had to be aged 18 to 22 with absolutely no exceptions, live within 25 minutes drive, and be available for discrete meetings in places like carparks late at night on weeknights and the like. The concession to my own life demands of work, school and possibly suspicious parents allows me to talk to them online through msn and the like, cyber with them etc if meets can conveniently be arranged, up until the time they can.