Duane awoke on his dirty, cum-stained mattress on the floor of his bedroom, and shoved a Budweiser can lying next to him out of the way. His stubby little penis was already standing at half-mast, so he spent the next few minutes playing with it, before it shot off on the mattress. Damn, he thought to himself, I'm gettin' tired of havin' to beat off all the time-- wish I had a bitch to fuck. Then he belched and farted, and got up to go in the bathroom to take a leak.
As he sipped his coffee and munched his cornflakes at the breakfast table, a plan started forming itself in that sluggish, slow-moving brain of his. He lived in a crappy little rented house in a bad part of town, but that house had a basement. "Damn near soundproof, too, with all that insulation," he muttered to himself, "make a good dungeon."
The plan he formed was unusually ambitious for someone as lethargic and uninspired as himself, but years of loneliness and sexual frustration had finally made him bold. Besides, it was getting near Valentines Day, and he was feeling amorous. He did a quick check and found he already had all the equipment he needed at home-- rope, handcuffs, etc.-- all he was lacking was the meat.
He went cruising around in his old, beat-up van, looking for what he wanted. Then he espied her-- a pretty teenage girl, barely turned 18, walking by herself on an isolated back road. What a Godsend, he thought to himself.
It didn't take long. He drove a little past her, then stopped and approached her pretending to be asking for directions. While she was giving them to him, he suddenly whipped out the chloroform-soaked rag, pressed it over her nose, and then dragged her into the van. Pretty good for a bleary-eyed old beerhound, he thought. He tied and gagged her, and then drove his prize back home.
Down in his basement-- now his Dungeon-- he stripped her, and tied her in place, on her knees with her arms stretched wide. He took his own clothes off and slapped her awake.
"Welcome to your new life, bitch! You exist now for one purpose and one purpose only-- to please me, your master. Do a good job, and you'll be treated pretty well. Don't do a good job, and you'll know pain like you've never imagined. And the first thing your master wants is-- a blowjob. Open wide, bitch-- I'm gonna tickle your tonsils!"
Sylvia was aghast at the situation she suddenly found herself in-- tied up helpless in a dingy basement with some ugly, pot-bellied middle-aged sicko about to stick his dick in her mouth-- and a small, ugly, diseased-looking dick at that! She'd had sex before, a few times-- with cute young boys her age-- and she liked it, but this was totally different-- no fun at all. He grabbed her head, and pushed it down on his cock, forcing her to suck his foul-tasting penis.
