My Wicked Fantasy

 

I'm a curious girl. Others might call me nosy, I suppose. I like to know everything about everything. That's probably what started it. Or maybe, the internet started it. I had a broken ankle when I was sixteen. Sixteen is an impressionable age, you know.

I had nothing much to do but surf the internet and watch TV, and frankly, TV is boring. So I surfed the internet, and quite by accident, stumbled across one of those nasty little sites which good girls aren't supposed to know anything about.

It was a comics site. Pretty innocent, you might think. But this was more a site for X-rated drawings and graphic stories. One section was devoted to BDSM stories, some of them involving monsters and tentacles and weird aliens.

I was fascinated! I was outraged, of course, by some of the images, but also helplessly drawn to them. I mean, some of these were pretty awful! But they were drawn so well! Frankly, the size of some of the cocks and phallic objects were ludicrous, and would have killed any woman they entered, but even so, they really fascinated me.

The whole notion of bondage and submission fascinated me. It was so completely opposed to everything I'd been taught by society and my parents about how a girl ought to act! So in a weird way, if you were submissive you were being a rebel.

I found the well-drawn stories exciting, forbidding and incredibly arousing. And they caused me to search the internet for the real thing, featuring real people. There was a lot of that, of course, but very little of it was so neat, so perfect, so erotic and exotic as in the drawings and graphic stories.

I mean, the women in the drawings were perfect physical specimens, firm and smooth and unblemished, with beautiful faces and hair and pouty lips. I, of course, didn't think I could ever be that perfect, though at that age, I was... pretty near.

Sort of.

I wore glasses, for one thing, which sexy girls in the drawings never did. My hair was kind of, well, ordinary and not cut in any kind of fancy way. My clothes were mostly not very sexy either, since I was kind of shy around guys and embarrassed about the size of my breasts.

That was the only way I completely measured up to the drawings. My breasts were unusually large and firm with youth. I had long legs, too, and smooth, unblemished skin (except for a little acne). I didn't think I was especially pretty, but I wasn't homely either,

The drawings became, in a weird way, my idea of what sexy women were supposed to look like, well, look like naked, or mostly naked. And over the following years, I tried to imitate them in a lot of ways. I managed to persuade my parents to get me contact lenses, for one thing. And I exercised regularly. I especially exercised to keep my stomach trim and fit and my breasts firm.

When I left high school I got a job at a book store, which gave me my own income, at last, and enabled me to buy a few toys, including studded leather bondage restraints and dildos. Staring at myself in the mirror wearing the collar and restraints turned me on so fast, and so intensely, that I could make myself come with just a few seconds of stroking myself!

And then I came across a new comic. It was a science fiction thing, and featured these female space soldiers - who always kept their big, firm breasts naked! More importantly were the space slaves. They took my breath away!

They were completely smooth, from head to toe, not just shaven, but completely denuded of hair. They had beautiful faces, with permanent makeup from tattoos, and they wore black thigh high stockings or leathers, and shoulder length black gloves. Their arms were almost always locked together behind their backs all the way up to the elbows!

They mostly didn't talk, except to scream, either in pleasure or in pain. They would be ravished by the cruel female soldiers, using all manner of nasty, thick, phallic objects, or by alien men, or by monsters with huge cocks! They would be whipped and strapped and spanked and used to sate the lust of all who saw them. They were nothing but sex slaves, almost like animals!

And I became helplessly obsessed with them!

I wasn't about to shave my head, of course. Try explaining that to my parents! Besides, a shaved head isn't pretty. Their heads were smooth, like a baby's bottom. But I did buy black latex stockings and shoulder length gloves. And I eventually found something to serve as the breast bindings they usually wore.

This was a black cable, a bit elastic, and about as thick as my thumb. I wrapped it around the base of my breasts in a figure eight pattern, then carefully pulled the loops tighter and tighter. I wanted them tight enough to make my firm breasts push out more even more tautly, to make them swell up, but not tight enough to make them discolored.

They had to be smooth and unblemished, after all, like the drawings. I had gotten over my acne, so that was no problem, and I had nothing but the occasional freckle on my body to mar my perfection in trying to appear as the girls in the drawings.

I had already had laser hair removal for my legs (a Christmas present I had bugged my mother for), and had persuaded the woman at the clinic to do my pubic hair too, in return for a small increase in the fee.

I then discovered I could buy a bald cap at a makeup store! I did that, along with some makeup, and was astonished at how I looked in the outfit. I actually orgasmed just from seeing myself! I had the most intense orgasms of my life just from masturbating with dildos in front of the mirror! I came and came again!

Now you might think my little obsession is a weird fetish. But here's something even weirder. I was still a virgin. Yes! I had all these wild, dark, nasty, kinky fantasies, and an incredibly active sexual imagination, but I was still awfully shy with guys, and awkward, and uncertain, and knew I couldn't possibly tell anyone about my weird desires.

And then my mom nagged me into babysitting for my Uncle Nick and Aunt Beth.

Now, first of all, neither are related to my mother, or to me. They were her friends, or at least, Beth had been her friend for years, since I was a little girl. They were often around, and I wound up calling her Aunt Beth. She was a stern, short, pretty woman with a slender body.

Nick, who I had only met a few years earlier, was the guy she married. He was the opposite of her. He was tall and broad shouldered and good natured, handsome and with a deep voice. He worked as a lawyer.

So anyway, Aunt Beth picked me up and drove me over to her place, thanking me for sitting for them on short notice. I hadn't really had anything else to do anyway, I told her. And anyway, I could always use a little extra cash.

Beth was in her late thirties years, and still as slim and stern and brisk as she had been when I'd first met her ten years earlier. She had short blonde hair and a pretty, round face with an unusually deep voice that had made me wonder if she wasn't a lesbian when I was younger - before she'd gotten married.

Anyway, they left me alone with their eight month old baby, which was not an awful lot of work since he was already asleep. That left me with little to do but indulge in my favorite hobby, which was snooping.

I started in the living room, examining what was in the drawers, then went on to Uncle Nick's den, checking out bookshelves and knick-knacks. I looked into closets, then rifled the drawers in the kitchen.

I went upstairs and checked out their bedroom, including opening the drawers to their dressers, especially hers. I don't want to make it sound like I was looking for anything in particular. I was just bored and idly snooping.

I didn't find anything particularly interesting, though, until I went downstairs into the basement. It was a newer house, so the basement had a higher ceiling, and the rooms were really almost like any other rooms in the house if you left out the windows being smaller and up higher.

They had a large finished room with a lovely carpet, a pool table and chairs, and a bar off in the corner, along with a big screen TV on the wall. There was a storeroom, an exercise room, and the furnace room and a bathroom, and a laundry room and... and one room I couldn't get into because it was locked. That, of course, immediately piqued my interest.

I remembered seeing those keys in the drawer in Uncle Nick's desk in his den. So of course, I went back upstairs, got the keys, and came back down again. I was almost surprised the key worked, and I pushed open the door, curious, reached inside, and flicked on the light.

Wow! I just stood there, my jaw having dropped, staring at the ... the bondage torture chamber or whatever it was! There was leather and gleaming wood everywhere! On one side was this thing that looked like a child's wooden horsey, except for adults, and it had no seat, just a narrow wedge of wood.

I knew what that was for because I'd seen them on the internet! There was a pair of black posts that went from floor to ceiling with strong rings running down along the insides, and a kind of leather frame with a round, leather covered surface which I thought was probably to bend people over!

On the wall was a rack with a row of whips and crops and straps all hanging neatly from hooks! Under it was a shelf with restraints, some of them leather, some metal, like real shackles, and handcuffs! There was also a lot of rope, soft, bondage rope, in various colors.

And on the walls were huge mirrors so you could watch yourself doing whatever you were doing!

Of course, the first thing I had to try was the horse. Because that was one of the ways the slave girls in the drawings were often punished. It took some doing to set it up myself, though.

I stripped and tied my hair back tightly...