(F/A) Sure i was too old to be Trick or Treating but i still did it, although right now i wish i didn’t. I knocked on the wrong door, the man behind it grabbed me before I could react and covered my mouth with a dirty rag. I woke up only a few minutes nudes
(F/A) Sure i was too old to be Trick or Treating but i still did it, although right now i wish i didn’t. I knocked on the wrong door, the man behind it grabbed me before I could react and covered my mouth with a dirty rag. I woke up only a few minutes
(F4A) I look in the mirror and see a reflection that feels both familiar and foreign. My hair, once vibrant and full of life, cascades down my shoulders in soft waves. I remember the days when I was a beacon of energy, laughter often spilling from my lip
[F4M] I want you to be my real daddy…who has always watched me and been affectionate with me and now comes to my bed every chance he gets. Suddenly getting bold and touching my tiny little pussy…I’m super kinky and this kink stems from trauma 🫣
(F4A) I checked the clock on the wall of the sterile training room—6:00 PM sharp. The sleek, modern room was lined with various high-tech training devices, each one meticulously maintained and sanitized after every session. The metallic sheen of the eq
I was a reporter and was disturbed by the change in my friend’s behavior after she moved to the small town of Stepford so I decided to covertly investigate. I was getting close to the truth but it seems my cover is blown. If didn’t find a way out soo
(F4A) Within the dimly lit basement, the rough edges of concrete pillars loom around me like silent sentinels. The industrial-style light hanging overhead casts an intense beam on my form, making the shadows dance on the unfinished walls. My breathing is
(F4A) I lay on my stomach, the bedspread beneath me a glaring contrast to the horrific situation I find myself in. The red fabric feels soft against my skin, almost mocking me with its comfort while every fiber of my being strains against the brutal real
(F4A) I lie here, the soft cushion beneath me a stark contrast to the harsh reality of my predicament. My wrists, bound tightly behind my back, ache from the constant pressure of the rope. The gag in my mouth, woven and slightly rough, presses against my