A Tied Up Slave, Screaming With Pleasure

I had an experience in college, being a tied up slave, that I have never forgotten and never will. I didn’t tell anyone about it at the time and only do so now under the cover of an anonymous website so that the account can never be linked to me. It’s not that I am famous now or anything; far from it.

I’m now just a stock broker in a small company. But my wife attends a local church and I doubt her friends would like to know about her husband’s past. My wife doesn’t even know and she never will know if I can help it. My wish to never be connected with this experience doesn’t stem from horror. Being a tied up slave was not a bad thing that happened to me necessarily. It just wasn’t…mainstream.

Too Much Booze Leads to Me Being a Tied Up Slave

It all started with me drinking way too much at a party one night in my freshman year. My parents didn’t drink and I had never been around alcohol, so I was now basking in my newfound adulthood. Yes I was still underage, but I didn’t care. I was young and my parents and their rules seemed very far away that night. Little did I know that life as I understood it would be very far away by the next morning.

Anyway, I remember feeling isolated at this gathering because the people there were not my regular friends. I only knew one other person there and she disappeared soon after I arrived. Not having anyone to talk to, I drank, so I got very drunk very quickly. There was no food, just booze, so I wasn’t the only one in this predicament. Someone had put Pink Floyd on the stereo. I wondered briefly why they had chosen such old music for 2004, but then the lights went out and I didn’t think much after that.

I must have passed out because I woke up to complete darkness. I realized that I had moved or been moved to another part of the same house. I could hear the muffled baseline of “Run like Hell” as if from a great distance. The basement? Maybe.

I also realized that I was lying on a bed completely naked. I could feel the sheets underneath my bare ass. I was still really drunk, and had trouble sorting out what was going on. I never thought to run or try to get away and find my way back to the party. For a moment, I thought that I might be dreaming.

She Appeared Like a Naughty Spirit

Her voice came out of the darkness, soft, almost inaudible. “Didn’t someone ever tell you to never drink anything you didn’t pour yourself when you’re at a strange party?” She could’ve been speaking Japanese for all I understood. Then I felt a soft hand on my thigh. I jumped away from the touch. My hands were tied to the head board above my head and I couldn’t see anything but inky blackness. I asked her where I was.

She ignored my question. I felt the bed sag as she lay down beside me. She asked me if I was a virgin. My heart began to race, wondering what the hell she had in store for me. I was a virgin as it turns out, but I was too far gone to even think about that at that moment. She was naked too. I felt her bare breasts as she pressed herself against me. She put her hand on my cock just as I asked her to let me go back to the party.

“Do you really want me to let you go? Do you really want me to set you free or do you want me to keep going, keep stroking your cock?” To my absolute horror and embarrassment, my cock started getting hard. The nameless, faceless girl kissed me, her tongue slipping into my mouth. She tasted like peppermint.

She Took My Virginity and Part of My Soul

This is how a very drunk young man lost his virginity. It was incredible and terrifying all at the same time. I lost track of how many times I came that night. At some point, the exhaustion and the booze got the best of me and I again passed out. I woke up the next morning in my car parked outside my apartment building.

I never found out who she was, or where I was. My memory of the whole night was very dim, so I didn’t have a clear picture of anything from that night. I went on to push the experience into a box in my head. I had girlfriends and had lots of sex. Graduation came and brought with it the promise of a job and marriage.

I don’t think about what happened when I was a tied up slave anymore. Except that I can’t stand to listen to Pink Floyd anymore. I cringe whenever I hear anything by them. Then I get an immediate hard on.

Do you have a hard on thinking about being a tied up slave? Give one of our Captivity Mistresses a call, today!