Housebreaking a new pet
From determined sleuth to diapered
Chapter 1 by Pampered Princess
My heart was pounding something fierce, beating in rythm with the sound of my heels click-clacking over the sidewalk. I tried to tell myself not to be nervous, but I couldn't kid myself - there was plenty of reason to be nervous. For one, what I was planning to do was actually dangerous, regardless of how many safeties I had agreed upon with my source, my contact on the inside. But the tingling crawling from my neck over my spine into my nether reaches also stemmed from a different kind of nervousness. Some part of me was actually looking forward to this - to the danger, to the taboo, to the kinkyness. Of course, at this point I was telling myself that this part of me was journalistic instinct - the hunger for a good story.
Underneath a thin satin blouse and a lacy bra, my perky chest was heaving considerably, and my nipples were pushing against the fabric quite visibly even through the layers of clothes. I had put considerable thought into my outfit. I wouldn't have had to. After all, I likely wouldn't be wearing them too long anyway. When I had applied for "enslavement" at the Institute, I could simply have opted for the self-collaring - a simple pickup where the only clothing prescription would have been that I would have put on the leather puppy-collar which would have been sent to me in the mail. Instead, seemingly on a whim, I had chosen the full package - the off-the-street-. For a moment, I had even considered choosing the home-invasion-, but I hadn't wanted to actually reveal that much about my personal life. It had been a far easier choice to untick the "" and "gangbang" options when I had mail-ordered my own - I couldn't believe that women actually voluntarily chose to be fucked by complete strangers before letting themselves be dragged off into a new life, although admittedly, my panties had been pretty soaked by the time I had finally pressed "send" on my enslavement application.
With the option I had chosen, I had been given rather specific instructions on how to dress. Considering my age of a bare, nubile 18 years, I hadn't been too surprised that I was instructed to dress as a naughty schoolgirl - and I hadn't skimped on it. If I was doing it, I was going to do it right.
I was wearing a plaid skirt that was barely covering my shapely bottom, let alone the tops of the sheer white stockings covering my athletic legs. As the skirt wafted around my swaying hips, I was in almost constant danger of uncovering my white, lacy thong. My sensual, satin blouse was unbottoned enough to allow a gaze at the brim of my bra, and my tie was loose enough not to cover any of my cleavage.
With every step I took, my gorgeous, braided red pigtails were bouncing around my shoulder, suggesting an innocence that the rest of my outfit clearly didn't support. An innocence that was far removed from what I was planning to do.
I tried to calm down my breathing as I was approaching the street-corner. At the back of my mind, there was a voice constantly screaming at me to stop, to turn around, to leave. But I didn't. My feet seemed to have a mind of their own as I tried to ignore both my worries as well as the growing spot of wetness on my panties. I could already see the corner where I would have to surrender any agency I had left in this. And yet, I didn't stop. And as I finally surrendered any choice I had in the matter, I arrived.
What happens to me at the street-corner?
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Planning to uncover a human trafficking-ring, a young college reporter goes undercover to investigate a "voluntary" enslavement institute. She will experience what happens to beautiful young women within the confines of the institute's cages, but as she is betrayed by her contact, her insight into the world of sexual slavery becomes far more permanent than she had planned.
Updated on Sep 21, 2017
Created on Sep 21, 2017
by Pampered Princess
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