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Message-ID: <36097asstr$1018768205@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Pagan" <pagan442@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} MY PET 1/many Story - BDSM, M/F, n/c, cons
Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2002 03:10:05 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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*** ALL STANDARD BULLSHIT... don't read if < 18 or if BDSM sex offends you
or if you are one of those assholes tryng to convince people that sex
experimentation is bad, go get a life.

Contains: BDSM, M/F, n/c, cons

MY PET

By: Pagan (pagan442@hotmail.com)

I always knew I am a domnant person, not just in sex but in the real life as
well. I like to control people and situations and in most cases I am the one
to have final say. I am well educated financially secure person which allows
me to blend with most people and yet I always stand out in a crowd. I heard
people describe me as biker type with large body, seemingly unsofisticated
with very few manners. They might be right as well, I sure am large man
which shows whenever I try to buy clothes, especially shirts and jeans. I
certainly tend to show lack of manners but that's deliberately of my own
choosing. I consider myself as center of my own universe and all others are
unimportant save those I decide to acknowledge. I am about six feet tall
with about 250 pounds in weight, often unshaven with short or no hair on my
head. When going out I often wear leather trousers and jacket, which keeps
me warm and dry on my Harley-Davidson motorcycle. I have blue-green eyes and
showing muscle here and there.

As I said earlier, I am dominant person; I like always to be in control to
the extreme. I never understood so-called dominant people that would tie-up
their sexual partner and then fuck them silly. I always believed control
comes from inside, and one has to learn how to control himself before they
control others. Sometimes I can go for longest time without sex while my
slave-girl is bound helplessly, tantalized and denied orgasm. I don't
believe in control for the sake of sex, I believe control and domination is
all consuming, it is a state of mind, a lifestyle.

This is a real story, yes I am real person, I exist and accounts mentioned
here have actually happened. The only thing I changed is obviously names and
places to protect me from all you perverts reading this :-) This story is
about a girl called Sarah and how I slowly turned her into my pet (quite
literally). I don't know how long is it going to be but I'll try to write it
in those spare moments I have. So drop me a line if you wish, especially if
you're young lady with desire to be owned and controlled, 'cause Sarah is
sadly with me no more, and I am quite sad... but I am getting ahead of a
story.. so here it is.

...

Sarah came to Brighton from another part of Britain, she was far away from
home with limited funds, no friends and huge task ahead of her. This year
she was going to start the first year of her university. In deed she was
very smart girl, kind of shy and reserved but nothing that would label her
as weirdo or antisocial.

She quickly made friends amongst colleagues attending same classes and
living in the same dorm. She was a brave girl, burning all the bridges
behind her and with little she had embarking on a lengthly  journey to
become a psychologist.

Sarah was a good girl, living with her adoptive mother before moving to
Brighton, when she left her, boyfriend and a little family she had there.
Still whey were just on the other side of the country but Sarah was
determined to succeed and make a difference with her life.
Sarah was stunning with raven black hair ending little below her shoulders
and piercing blue eyes. She was about five-feet-six tall with hourglass
figure. She was in deed pleasure to look at.

But not at that time... At the time she joined university she didn't really
pay much attention to her hair, wore baggy, often un-matching clothes and
really didn't have any idea of a difference between cosmetic powders,
lipstick etc. and war-paints.

Her adoptive mother was a hard working woman in a factory, who didn't have
much time nor money to spend on clothes and virtually never wore any blush
or lipstick, so Sarah learned to improvise.

She arrived that faithful Saturday to Brighton train station carrying four
large suitcases her mother help her pack and place on the train. I still
don't know how she managed to make two transfers carrying all that stuff
that was clearly to heavy for one large man like me, let alone petite little
girl like Sarah.

Meeting Sarah was a pure coincidence. I was returning from London cursing
the late trains and public transportation. I felt hot, breathless and pissed
off as did I'm sure most of the passengers. Train made a stop in East
Croydon when I noticed her, standing there on the platform with the tower of
suitcases.

Obviously there was no porter and people were just showing disinterest and
contempt looking at her with all that stuff, planning to enter their train,
taking their space, breading their air. She looked plain and a bit pale but
something in me just reacted to her. She looked helpless and so beautiful.

Photography is one of my hobbies and I've seen beautiful naked girls,
hundreds of times. When I looked at that petite girl in baggy clothes I saw
beauty well hidden within herself and covered with layers of plain clothing.
But that was not what attracted me to her, it was that "something"
undescribabale, something almost spiritual.

Even as train was coming to full stop, I have formed the plan to learn more
about her while thinking of my future actions. I stood up and walked two
rows of seats further to be in line with her so I can help her with her
stuff as every gentleman would.

We sat opposite one another, panting heavily from lifting all those bags in
such a short time, and I am a strong man so you can imagine the weight she
carried unaided. I figured I want to learn more about her even as she so
eloquently thanked me for my valourous edeavours.

Sarah was easy target for any stalker, she was friendly and loquacious, she
told me all about her destination, university, mother and family before
train reached Purley, which is next stop from Croydon.

Obviously I expressed my surprise when she mentioned Brighton and I told her
that was my destination too. Few dozen extra miles from my real destination
won't hurt me; day was shaping better and better.

We were chatting like best of buddies by the time we arrived to Brighton. I
once again expressed my concern about her luggage and valiantly offered her
to share a cab to her destination, which she accepted immediately with lots
of thanks and praise.

If she only knew that was my sinister plan to find out where she lives. I
invited myself upstairs with all her luggage and met her roommate. They
decided what is to be her room, where I finally left her stuff, said my
goodbyes and rushed out of the apartment.

By that time plan was almost formed and I knew I couldn't become too
friendly with her at this time, I had to leave as I came; nice, mysterious
gentleman. I didn't mint paying seventy pounds for taxi home, I was tired of
all that lifting and needed to think of a plan to make her mine.


... end of part one ...

Hey!!! I'm just getting started...

You can write to me: pagan442@hotmail.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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