Taken [part 1]

It had been two weeks since I had come to my senses and broken free.

I don’t know what had gotten into me, but I had been talking to an older man online for a few months. I can’t even remember how it started, but somehow our conversations ended up focusing on bdsm. I knew the term, but mostly as a reference to scary horrible things that only freaks and bad people were into. I didn’t want to offend him or look uncool, or accidentally show my real age when he mentioned it (yes, it was stupid, but I had lied about my age), so I said I was really into it when he mentioned an interest. He told me a girl like me was the dream for bdsm, and that girls like me and guys that got them were one in a million. I felt a stupid grin spread on my face; I felt so special. I thought I better look it up some more to understand what he was saying.

I started looking at photos and videos, and was shocked and embarrassed to find out that my pussy was getting so wet. The guy and I spoke more frequently, he told me of his dark and dirty desires, and I told him mine; I played up to the role of the online slut, finding it came naturally to me. I got so caught up in it, so mesmerized by him that I thought I wanted everything we spoke about. I found myself stepping way out of character and agreeing to meet him.

We set it all up, and I was getting butterflies whenever I thought about what was coming up. I gave him my number so he could call me to confirm.

Hello? Hello slut.

[My heart skipped a beat.]

Hello Sir.

We make small talk for a few minutes, and I feel my insides melting at the sound of his voice; I felt my pussy get wet when he spoke to me, commanding me and being totally in control. I felt myself go weak, wanting to submit.

Now, you are going to come to me this Friday, aren’t you slut? You are going to be my little fucktoy slave, aren’t you slut?

I gulp. My mouth has gone dry. I come to my senses. What the fuck am I doing??? I whisper:

I can’t do this! What the fuck are you talking about, bitch? I can’t! I lied! I’m a virgin, I’m not a slut at all! I’m 14. I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. We shouldn’t talk anymore. Fuck! Please, I’m sorry, don’t call me again! I’m sorry for wasting your time!

I hung up the phone.

The way he sneered down the phone sent shivers up my spine. What had I gotten myself into? He had told me so many dark fantasies, I knew in my heart he wasn’t a “normal guy”, he wasn’t someone I should’ve ever spoken to. And the way he sneered… He scared me.

I was understandably relieved when he respected my wishes. I had blocked him on my msn just to be sure, but I knew he didn’t try to contact me anyway. I couldn’t believe the stuff I had said to him! My face burned whenever I thought about it. At night though, I found myself missing our conversations, thinking about all the things we had said and planned. I felt my face burn again as I realised how wet I got every time I thought about him, about being his slut. I would make myself cum, thinking about the last few months.

But, every time I got myself off I felt so bad immediately afterwards, I scolded myself, reminding myself that I was not that type of girl and that he was just a bad, sick man. I convinced myself he was just a predator, he probably does this to hundreds of girls. I just hoped I hadn’t pissed him off too bad.

To be continued…