This is the beginning of a multi chapter story about the bizarre and often comical misadventures of Mike and Mary Ellen. They meet when Mike calls the phone sex line Mary Ellen works on and soon things are taken offline and Mary Ellen becomes Mike’s real life sex slave and employee.
This first chapter has Mary Ellen begging for Mike to pick her up at the bus station, where she has arrived in his town to become his willing, captive sex slave.
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Sir, please, I am totally out of money. I have to give up my apartment at the end of the month.
I have no food left in my apartment. I am hungry right now.
I have unpaid bills going back 3 months.
I have no family. I have sponged off my friends so badly that they won’t answer phone calls anymore. And my cell phone won’t work after a few more days, I’m so behind in paying for it.
And when the gas in my old broken down car runs out, I won’t be able to drive.
So, GOD, PLEASE help. I’ll agree to anything.
I know we only know each other by talking online, but you’re the only person in the world I can appeal to.
If you’ll send me a greyhound bus ticket to your city, I’ll walk away from my apartment, my car, my city, and become your sex slave. I know you fantasize about a sex slave, and this is SO playing into your hands.
Since you’re married, you can put me up in a tiny basement, an efficiency apartment, in any part of town you choose. City or ‘burbs.
And if you will just bring by enough groceries so I can stay alive, and pay the rent on the apartment, you can have me as your real sex slave, not just as the fantasy sex slave as we play out online.
I know you won’t allow me a phone or internet access so I am trapped. And just as play with our fantasies online, you can keep me naked and in handcuffs.
And you can chain an ankle to a post somewhere in the apartment so I can almost but not quite reach the apartment door.
And you can deny me clothes, blankets, pillows, and any soft furniture.
I’ll be your prisoner with no chance of escape, no comforts, barely enough food to live on, no TV, no newspapers, not magazines. I will soon not have any idea of what is happening in the world.
And if you like, Master, the cuffs can be behind my back so you can put a head harness on me with a build in blindfold, so I am literally in the dark 24 hours.
I am offering this complete surrender into the most severe captivity imaginable because I have no option. I will be a homeless street person if you don’t accept me, and I’ll be dead soon after that, I know it.
So please take me into captivity. Make me your caged helpless slut prisoner. Please, Please, Please
Sir, I’m leaving you this voice mail because you are not answering your phone, and I’m sitting in the Kansas City bus station waiting for you to contact me. You didn’t answer my earlier voice mail, but I am desperate so I went ahead and sold my car to another person in the apartment building for the exact price of a bus ticket to Kansas City. And I’m now waiting for your call.
Please, Sir, the cell phone battery is low, and the phone company may cut off the phone at any time, so PLEASE call me back and tell me when you will pick me up. I hope you will pick me up, and not let me become a street person in Kansas City. I don’t know this city and I know no one here except you. I’m sure if I sleep under a bridge I’ll be attacked or worse. Please, please contact me.
Sir, you are tormenting me by not returning my call. I thought of you every minute on the bus ride here. I couldn’t think of anything else. I kept going over and over in my mind what we did in our sex slave role play, seeing if there was anything I missed that I should have referred to in my earlier voice mail to you. All I can think of is that you kept whipping me and paddling me in our role play whenever you thought the sex I was providing you wasn’t eager enough, enthusiastic enough, or sincere enough. I want to assure you that you will have me naked in bondage, and can whip and paddle me to your heart’s content. Even for no cause, just for your sadistic enjoyment and pleasure.
Sir, I don’t expect anything less than what you do to me in our online calls. I expect to be used just as hard as in our online sex calls. I expect you to tie me to a table on my belly, with my legs dangling and barely touching the floor, tying my legs wide apart, and fucking me repeatedly for hours. I know you used that position with me repeatedly in our phone calls.
And then turning me over on my back on the table, again legs barely reaching the floor, tying me in that position, and then using me for still more hours. And then fucking my mouth from the other side of the table. You used me that way a lot in our phone calls.
Sir, all this and more is available to you. You can’t imagine how hungry I am getting. And it’s dark, almost midnight, and the bus station will close soon and I’ll be out on the street. Sir, this doesn’t look like a very good part of town. I’m scared Sir. I’m already getting looks from some very seedy types. I can’t imagine what they intend to do to me once this bus station closes and I’m sitting outside on the sidewalk propped against the outside of the station!
Sir, please claim your sex slave while she is still alive! This may be my last night alive if you don’t come and get me. I am hungry, humiliated, and scared beyond belief.
If you have no apartment for me yet, I will sleep in the backseat of your car, or anywhere else that is safe from your wife discovering me. Or give me $50 Sir and I’m sure one of the seedy looking hotels here will put me up for the night while you secure the apartment you want to store me in. It can be the smallest imaginable apartment. In a basement. In the dingiest of buildings. I don’t care. I just need to be kept alive, Sir.
Please, I’m barely hanging on — my life is in your hands. I’ll be the most submissive, cooperative, obedient slave you could imagine. Anything, Sir, Anything. You only need hint at what service you want from me and I’ll comply fully, enthusiastically.
Sir, you can make me earn my rent and grocery cost by pimping me out to your friends. Just tell me how far I am to go with each one of them.
Sir, please, please, please, collect me at your bus station. I am filled with terror that I will die tonight if you ignore me. God, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE.
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The above story was written by a client of mine for a custom recording they wanted made. I did not write it, nor do I claim to. I asked for permission to post it and was told I could for others to enjoy it. No one else has permission to copy it or post it.