I woke up in a daze, on a carpeted floor in what appeared to be somebody's house. I noticed a chain attached to a nearby wall, which lead up to my neck. I felt with my hands that the chain attached to what felt like a metal collar on my neck. I immediately panicked and started tugging at the chain, trying to free myself from these mysterious bonds. Alas, I only wasted my time and made a bunch of noise. I then heard some kind of commotion in a nearby room. I realized that I had just alerted whoever lived here. A few moments later, a tall, brown man who smelt of curry and onions had entered the room I was in. He looked to be of Indian descent, although I would later learn that he was actually Pakistani.
The bottom part of his face was covered in a thick, mangy beard that was starting to gray due to his old age. He looked to be in his 60's, but could have easily been in his 80's. He was very overweight, pretty hairy with patches of fur all over his body, and very greasy due to his natural tendency to over sweat. The Pakistani man was wearing only a pair of grey sweat pants and had a gold chain around his meaty neck. He was not wearing a shirt, but I could still see all his perspiration almost pouring out from under his armpits and manboobs. As he smiled at me, I immediately thought of how helpless I must have looked, being all chained to a wall in a place I had never been in before.
He continued to stare at me very hungrily, making me painfully aware as to how slutty my attire made me look. I was wearing a low slung red skirt that covered my legs, but sat very low on my wide hips. I was also wearing a matching red belly shirt with the hem only reaching down to cover half of my rib cage, leaving the rest of my tan, slightly toned French-Canadian belly and tiny innie navel to be bared for this mongrel of a man to see. With my favorite belly chain wrapped around my bare midriff, I thought back to the previous night when I had been wearing the half top and belly chain along with some tight, blue jeans when I went out to the club with my friends. I remember being really excited because I was trying to hook up with a hot guy I had been talking to on social media. He was tall and muscular, with dirty blonde hair and icy blue eyes. He had a strong jaw, along with broad shoulders. Alas... my thoughts of him were dismissed by my current predicament.
I blushed as I realized that somebody obviously had changed my pants for this skirt I now adorned... and they would have noticed that I was wearing a hot pink thong that rode up my ass tightly. I then started thinking about how I didn't even remember making it into the club last night. I only remembered having to take the subway with my friends, only to be separated on the train from them due to a huge crowd of commuters cramping the cars. After that, the last thing I remember was being surrounded by a bunch of brown people who I assumed to be immigrants and refugees from foreign countries. Then everything was hazy after that. Something must have happened on that train last night.
"Bell bell! It appears like da slutty belly bitch finally abake!" He said with a thick, eastern-oriental accent that only a man from the Middle East could have.
My heart started racing as I heard him say those words to me, like I was some kind of object made for his enjoyment rather than the human being I knew myself to be. He licked his lips as he gazed upon me; his cold, lustful eyes locked on my pure, untouched innie navel. I started to whimper in fear at the thought of this foreign man making plans on what to do with my pure, virgin belly and belly button. I had never even had a boyfriend before this day, and no man had ever touched me before in my life!
"You should not go around shobing belly and nabel like dat! I now must teach you lesson, belly bitch! You bill now be my belly slave, and enjoy my body... as buch as I enjoy yours...", he said, while rubbing the gigantic bulge that had formed under his sweatpants.
While panting at his promises to violate me, I hastily crawled back against the wall that held the other end of my chain, shaking my head no. I was trying very hard to pull my crop top down to cover my midriff, but to no avail. He laughed and yanked my chain, pulling me towards him with just one, effortless yank.
"You're my slave now. Obey me or your belly bill be punished!"
I whimpered, but nodded my head "yes" reluctantly. With my eyes closed, I began crying softly to myself, afraid that my fate had been sealed as a belly slave for a man obviously old enough to be my great grandfather. Coming to terms as to how weak I was as a petit 19 year old, I surmised that the Pakistani man could easily overpower me.
"Bery good, bery good," he said as he lightly patted my belly with his greasy, giant brown hands. His touching of my young, pure white skin sent instant shivers down my spine, making my belly slightly bounce away from his touch.
