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Female Switch, 28
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Female Submissive, 19, Denver, Colorado
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About megslavegirl
i came upon this site by chance - well maybe more by fate! Probably like most things it's more complicated than that though - in truth i cam here because i was and am searching - and the truth is search and you shall find.
So yes i am young, yes inexperienced, but i know what i am and what i seek - i have enough knowledge and experience to know that. What do i seek? Simple - real total no mercy - no rights slavery - to be taken and kept - to be truly owned. i do seek only the most extreme - the hardest edge and beyond - this isn't about a kink or someone that cares or respects - it is about hunger.
Seek and you shall find.
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This place is her place - under the stairs - away from any prying eyes. Two doors lock behind her, the first a standard wouldn't catch the eye door from the hall to the cellar. No one comes here and even if they did well it's just a door no more no less nothing to get you interested. Beyond that door and beyond the starirs down into the cellar, tucked away in the dark, another door, this one is smaller, less obvious, you have to search for it. That door is heavy, no standard lock and key for this, it is hard, thick, blocking out the sound from either side, a heavy metal bolt locked in place.
Behind the door is her place. In the quiet dark inner depths of the house, a small room, equipment for her use and abuse adorns the walls, things to tie, things to punish, things to ensure she is always in her place. A small sink, a hole in the ground to the drains, a hose running from the tap, ropes hanging from the chairs and from the beam, a well worn strap hangs here, a set of gleaming pins lie there, the room has more than one might expect.
In the deepest recess - a small cage - not big enought to stand in - just enough to crouch and crawl. This is her place - her home.
From the outside the house looks just another normal home, quiet, nothing to draw attention or disturb. The man that lives there goes about his business quietly and unobserved, just another house, just another home. |
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The man drove for over two hours - far from the city and into an area Meg barely knew existed. Trees, rocks & not a person was in sight on the lonely road, causing the girl?s heart to sink. They had only stopped once when Meg?s squirming had annoyed her captor. He quickly pulled the rope on her wrists tighter, causing her shoulders to ache. For the rest of the ride, she sat there, feeling drool from her gagged mouth spill onto her chin & sweater. Now, the man had pulled off the road and into a clump of thick trees. He poked Meg with the gun and reminded her not to struggle, then he stepped away from the car and into the brush. Her mind whirled at thoughts of what may happen next, but before she could panic further, he was back. Slipping into the car he reached over and told Meg he was going to untie her for a bit, as long as she promised not to cause trouble. Quickly nodding, the girl turned her face to him hoping the gag would come off first. Soon, she sat there with just her ankles tied. She was offered a drink, which she took, and a cigarette which she did not. Meg actually briefly regretted the last situation when the man grabbed the ropes and started binding her again. This time, her wrists were tied behind her. When he picked up the gag, still wet from before, Meg begged, but he cut off her words with his hand, then stuffed the rag in. A new rag was tied over to finish the job. Then, he stepped out and with a smile told the helpless girl to ?sit tight?. ?Your new owners will be here soon/?. Meg tried to question it, but all that came out was a ?mff? and then he was gone. She struggled hard in the ropes, but her abductor had done well. It was almost dark when she saw the figures walking toward the car. She greeted them with the first of what would be many muffled screams. |
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The soft hum of the engine rang in her ears as her head bounced with each bump the tires hit. Her vision was blurred as it had been since she had regained consciousness. She tried to put the events in order. The bar - meeting the man - the drinks - and then? The sun glare told her that it was now daytime, but when? She was bound at the hands and feet and the numbness in her limbs told her they had been that way for hours. She swallowed, and almost choked. Something was stuffed in her mouth and held in by another cloth tried tight over her mouth. When she moved her lips, or tried to, she found them sealed into the gag with tape from a roll laying just next to her head. Outside the hatchback, she saw trees passing, but heard no sound of city traffic. She had to sit up, but each time she tried, the world shifted and she fell back hard onto the cruel surface of the trunk. Finally the car stopped and the hatch opened. The face of the man loomed close and she tried to talk. He pressed his hand hard on her mouth, sealing the tape even more firmly. ?Welcome to the country, he said. ?I have a great day planned for us both |
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Oh and surelly the word 'extreme' means i am not looking for anyone who talks about caring for their slave - yes maybe an Owner wants to protect their property but it's for their own ends not mine i would hope. |
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Why do so many think saying howydoin or hi is enticing enough to warrant a second thought - please it's just a waste of both of our times. i'm guessing a real Owner might have something more to say for themselves or at least have that voom that makes the statement of intent. |
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A thought for the day - the best cage is not the mind - it's one with real bars and a real lock. That way we know it's real. |
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