Unforgettable Sex Slave Life of a Female College Student

A Female College Student's Unforgettable Sex Slave Experience

I am 20 years old this year. As a girl, I am extremely promiscuous, almost perverted, because I particularly
enjoy being abused, raped, and gang-raped.

Of course, these things are dangerous; one wrong move and you could lose your life, so most of the time, I
take care of it myself.

I am still in school, and to enjoy my life safely, I rented a house off-campus.

The rent is cheap because it's in the suburbs, and the house is large, with a bedroom, study, kitchen, bathroom, and what
makes me happiest is the clean basement.

The house is neither too far nor too close to the school; it's a 20-minute bike ride.

The nearest neighbor is 50 meters away. I thought that if I were cornered in the house by several big men
, raped, and gang-raped, even if I screamed my lungs out, no one would hear me.

This thought immediately made my genitals throb, so much so that I was trembling when I signed the contract.

I moved in one Friday evening and immediately began decorating my beloved basement
. I have two beds, one for sleeping, and the other—a self-punishment
bed.

The self-punishment bed isn't big; it's a bit like a recliner, but the sitting area is very narrow. A thick dildo stands on it, and
not far behind is a small cone-shaped object with a small chain of five steel balls attached to its top
. This is for abusing my anus. Do you know why I don't use a dildo instead? I'll tell you a secret:
because my anus is still a virgin! I hope that one day, someone called a master, when punishing me
, will casually pick up any thick stick and forcefully shove it inside,
deflowering my tender anus with the most ferocious force.

So now I protect my anus very well, rarely eating dry food and drinking plenty of water, so I rarely use it
for ejaculation.

Because I had to pay for the hotel room, I didn't have much money left. I couldn't afford an expensive massager, and the cheap ones broke easily, so I
simply decided not to buy one and made my own, which would be more fun.

I like to put things around me into my vagina, imagining myself being played with, feeling my limits
and reaching orgasm.

I also often use vegetables like eggplant, cucumber, carrot, and banana, but they feel slippery and not
very stimulating. Later, I found a wooden stick, shaved it down a bit with a knife, deliberately making it uneven in thickness, even
bumpy. After that, it became a regular in my vagina.

Although I cherish my anus and don't want it to be too loose, I still abuse it when I'm sexually aroused.
I have a pink beaded chain that I made myself; each bead is about one centimeter in diameter, and every ten beads there's
a slightly larger one. Pressing the larger one into my anus is painful and difficult, but it's convenient
for me to know how many beads have entered my rectum. The chain is quite long, about a meter. I've never inserted it
all the way into my anus. Every time I insert about 70 beads, it starts to throb. Although it's not very painful, I still
don't dare to continue. But I swear, one day I will ruthlessly stuff it all in.

The last beaded necklace was a blooming fake peony, about the size of a fist, pink with three green leaves.
Its base connected to the last bead in the necklace, also a large one. When I inserted that last bead into my anus
, a large peony bloomed there—how beautiful, how lewd! But one wish
remained unfulfilled.

My life as a sex slave—meeting my master—I've described so much so that you can better understand my lewdness
and won't be surprised that I would willingly become a stranger's sex slave.

Not long after moving, summer vacation began. I told my family I was going on a trip with some friends, giving me
two months of free time. Hanging up the phone, I found myself almost overwhelmed by a tremendous sexual desire. I half-closed
my eyes and thought, if there were a dozen or so giant men here, I would have two months of paradise.

As I lay in bed pondering how to arrange my life, my eyes fell on the computer screen. I remembered someone
—an online friend I met in a porn chat room. At first, neither of us spoke. Later,
he asked me why. I said there was nothing I wanted to talk about there. I countered by asking him why he didn't chat there, and
he said he was the same as me. He said he liked sex, but he liked training sex slaves even more, enjoying sadomasochism. He said it gave him
a great sense of accomplishment. After he finished speaking, I was shocked, and then I ejaculated. Later, we talked a lot more. We were very similar
; we disliked bloodshed and injury, and we preferred methods that aroused both of us. The only difference was that he was the sadist, and I was
the masochist.

At that time, we desperately wanted to meet, but he said he was a sailor and could only stay in one place for half a
year at a time. His current place was half a day's drive from my home, and I was still in school and couldn't leave.

Now that I'm on vacation, I have plenty of time, but I don't know if he's left yet. I quickly opened my email, wanting to
write to him, hoping it wouldn't be too late. Unexpectedly, I received a message from him as soon as I opened my inbox. It read, "You lewd
little slave, do you still remember your master? This much rest should be enough, right? It's time to return and fulfill your slave duties
. The life of discipline will make you suffer unbearably yet be filled with unforgettable pleasure. Are you ready? Give me your phone number.
Remember, the later you reply, the more cruel the punishment will be."

It was signed "Master." I was incredibly excited and immediately sent him my phone number. Less than five minutes later, my
phone rang. I stared tremblingly at the flashing, unfamiliar number. He answered the phone, "Hello, this is
Dang'er." "I'm your master. Are you ready to be my sex slave? Tell me your address, I'll pick you up.
It'll be about five hours. You can use that time to prepare. I hope you won't be punished on our first meeting."

He didn't care about my reply at all; his tone was like a question but a command, making me feel masochistic
. I blankly gave him my address, and immediately regretted it after hanging up. I almost wanted to run away. Did I really have to be
his slave, to be played with at his will? But wasn't this what I was looking forward to? If I ran away, my master would never
talk to me again. This thought made me very sad, and I made up my mind to become my master's sex slave. I looked up...
I realized that I had spent three hours struggling with my thoughts, and I wasn't ready. My master was coming soon, and I
couldn't let him down.

So I immediately took a shower. Sex slaves aren't allowed to wear clothes, or if they do, it's usually a specially made rope suit,
leather suit, or other erotic clothing.

But without clothes, feeling completely naked, I doubted my master would like me like this. I took
out my favorite beaded necklace, took a deep breath, and began pressing the beads one by one into my anus. I thought my master
would definitely like my anus and would cruelly torture it. Thinking this, I noticed my anus twitching, no longer tense
. With each bead swallowed, it trembled. I knelt on the ground, placing one leg
on a nearby stool, one hand supporting my upper body, the other frantically stuffing beads into my anus. The floor-to-ceiling mirror beside me reflected a
frenzied and lewd scene: a completely naked me, beads of sweat on
my forehead, my cheeks flushed as if enduring immense pain or pleasure, my pink lips tightly pursed, occasionally emitting soft moans…
My body writhed intermittently, as if trying to escape something, or perhaps enduring immense pain, while the culprit
continued its frantic movements. "No, no more, it can't hold any longer, I'm going to die,
no...no..."

I began to scream wildly, but the hand was no longer under my control; instead of stopping, it pressed even
harder. My voice grew fainter and fainter as the last bead and a pink peony flower were inserted into the chain
. When the last large bead was forcefully pressed into my anus, I screamed and collapsed. I felt a surge of heat flow out
, and all around was quiet.

I slowly got up, able to hear the beads colliding inside me, feeling swollen. I turned around and saw
the fake flower on my anus, and once again felt truly lewd, deserving of a harsh lesson from my master. Master?
Right, I need to hurry, my master will be here soon. If he gets angry, I'm doomed. Just thinking about how he'll
punish me makes my legs tremble again. I cleaned my vagina and applied
anti-inflammatory ointment to the swollen area of my anus, making it close tightly as if it had never been abused. And that flower is a key;
whoever picks it will be my master.

I carefully applied light makeup, putting on a necklace, bracelet, and anklet of the same color as the one inside my anus.
My skin is very white and smooth, and my breasts are large and perky. It would be such a waste to bury such a figure. I stroked my breasts,
slowly sliding down to my lower abdomen. My usually flat abdomen was slightly bulging today because my anus was stuffed with beads.
How could I show such an abdomen to my master? I found a decorative belt and tied it on. I was all dressed up, just waiting for one more thing...
This matter is troubling me. My master told me to leave my hands empty except for my personal belongings, but I absolutely
must bring my phone. I thought about it, gritted my teeth, and put the phone in a condom, intending to insert it into my vagina. The phone
was a little too big, and it hurt a bit when I squeezed it in. Luckily, I was already quite wet, so it didn't take much effort.
But inside, it was quite a scene. The phone and the beaded necklace were separated only by a thin layer of flesh, pressing against each other, making every step
feel like I was on the verge of orgasm. No, I can't orgasm without my master's permission. My master will be angry. Just as
I was enduring it, I heard the sound of brakes. The car stopped in front of my house. The door opened, and someone got out
. It was a man. I heard the sound of leather shoes on the concrete road. The sound was slow and rhythmic as he
walked towards my door. "Here he comes. It's my master. My master has come to take me back to be disciplined. What should I do? I'm a little scared. No,
no, I won't open the door for him. I won't go. I'll die if I go. Waaah..." I held
the coat I had prepared in my hand. I was only five steps away from the door, but I stopped.

Just then, the doorbell rang. I clenched my fists, closed my eyes, thinking he would leave soon. The doorbell
rang three times, sounding a bit angry. After a while, the doorbell stopped ringing. I thought he had given up and just breathed a sigh of relief
, but then I couldn't help but feel a little regretful. Immediately, another shock exploded inside me—it really was inside me. My phone
was vibrating. "No, I can't take it anymore, stop!"

I kept thinking. At that moment, I heard the owner's voice outside the door, "Dang'er, open the door." He probably heard my moans.
Yin , knowing I was home, my phone kept vibrating. I couldn't take it anymore. I put on a sheer, see-through
outer garment, almost like I wasn't wearing anything, but the slight glimpse only fueled my desire. Gritting my teeth, I moved to the door and
stammered through the door, "I'll open the door right away, Master, please don't call anymore."

The phone stopped vibrating. I opened the door, and the wind rushed in, billowing my outer garment. I looked up
at my future master. He was so tall, probably 190cm. His strong physique was befitting a sailor.
He looked at me with a start, then frowned immediately. "Opening the door so late? Regretting it? Making
your master wait? You'll regret it when we get back." His harsh tone actually made me somewhat expectant. I lowered my head. "I'll
wait for you in the car. Five minutes."

My master turned and left. I knew he was giving me a last resort. What choice did I have? I...
I locked the door , placed the key on the doorframe, and then walked step by step towards my master's car, towards my territory and also towards
my paradise.

Once inside, I leaned against the back seat, a little nervous, stealing glances at my master. I realized he hadn't even looked at
me, focused intently on driving. So I relaxed, and the car drove smoothly and steadily. Gradually, I fell asleep
.

When I woke up, it was completely dark. I didn't know what time it was. A dim yellow light shone from inside the car. I shifted
my body, groaned, and looked at my master. "Awake? We're almost there. Be prepared
. I don't want to see a crying slave."

My master still didn't look at me, but from my angle, I could see that his genitals were already erect. He seemed
quite excited, hehe. I secretly smiled. The tense atmosphere vanished instantly. Taking advantage of the remaining time
, I thought about how I should offer myself to my master.

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Unforgettable Sex Slave Life of a Female College Student

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