LOLITA BONDAGE MY WAY

BY KENNA
kenna198401@aol.com

I wasn’t looking for him that night. I had enough income, but he pretty much stuck out in the pub. Middle aged guy hanging out alone in a pub known as a college hangout. He was looking to pick up a college girl. He was well dressed and well groomed, just lying low and letting his image do the talking. It was hard to resist an easy mark like him, but I passed for the night. Stayed with my friends and kept an eye on him.

When he left with a junior on his arm, I excused myself and followed. He was wrapped up in his new trophy so it was easy to get his license plate of his new Porsche and go back inside without arousing his suspicions. His success would make him greedy. The junior wouldn’t last long and he’d be back. Next time he came, I’d leave on his arm.

The next afternoon I did my homework. Yeah, I’m an English major, senior at Harvard, but not that kind of homework. I hacked into the department of motor vehicles and found out I’d just spotted Mark Allen Hargrove at the pub last night. His driver’s license number led me to his social and I hacked into the IRS. I smiled as I looked at his last tax return. He listed himself as a real estate agent with over $500K in income last year. Mark was a good name for him.

Three days later he was back at the pub. I slide in the booth opposite him. “Haven’t I seen you around campus?” I ask him.

“No, my student days are over,” he answers.

“Oh, I was thinking more professor than student,” I say.

He beams. Stroking his ego is easy. Hi, I’m Mark, I’m good looking, rich, and recently dubbed intelligent by the pretty girl sitting across from me. Chuckle. “I’m Hank,” he says.

Yeah right, I think. “I’m Kenna.” I use my little voice. He cocks his head and eyes my beer. My little voice with big girl makeup and a beer in my hand makes him wonder about my age. I don’t leave much to chance.

“Not a professor either,” he says. “I’m in real estate.”

“Well, just kidding anyway,” I say. “Profs don’t come in here. But, seriously, I have seen you somewhere and I haven’t been looking for a house lately.”

“I’ve been in here before. May be you saw me then.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty much a regular,” I admit.

Enough of the small talk. We bantered for an hour before he took me home. I love Porsche’s – got one of my own. But tonight I’m playing the poor college student, mystery girl – his trophy after an evening of hunting at the bar.

We go up to his bedroom and I say, “You have something to tie me up with? I like being tied up.” Well, damn it, I do. Been doing tie up games since my older brothers started on me at 8. Spread eagle on my back in my favorite position. Read the Brady Bunch and then substitute Kenna everywhere Jan appears. Well, I only had 2 brothers and no sisters, so don’t get too carried away with the analogy.

Mark about faints from his good fortune. He finds a bunch of expensive silk ties and shows them to me. I strip off my clothes and watch him closely. Again there’s that look of confusion as he runs his eyes up and down my nude form. I have no damn tits and am very petite. Out of the pub, no clothes, and no beer, and I look well under 21. But, he knows he picked me up in bar with a sign in the window that says they card anybody under 30, so I’ve been checked by a reputable authority. He tosses aside the worry and blesses his good fortune again. He not only gets to tie me up, but I look like a high school girl to boot.

I coach him on how to tie me up so he gets me nice and spread. Gentleman that he is, he says he’ll use a condom even before I can insist on it. Fiction is one thing where I don’t have to worry about AIDS and pregnancy, but this is real life. If he wants to stick that in me, it’s gonna have a wrapper on it.

He stands admiring his handiwork for a moment and I use my little voice to say, “Mister, what you gonna do to me now?”

“Jesus,” he whispers. He falls into the fantasy. “I’m gonna show you something special, little girl.” He pulls his golf shirt off over his head. Then he stops, drawn to me. He reaches out and runs his hand over my smooth tummy, almost afraid to touch me anywhere else. It’s like watching the dark side take over Anakin Skywalker. He wants the power. He wants to touch, but his hand is trembling. He slides it up farther, rubbing across my nipple and my A-cup, little girl tit. Then the other tit. Now that he’s sampled them, he acts as if he owns them. He pinches the nipples, then leans over and sucks on them.

“That feels funny, mister,” I say. He looks up, a guilty expression on his face. “But, in a good way,” I add. I don’t want him to chicken out now. “Do it some more.”

“You like it?” he asks.

Duh, didn’t I just say that? “Yeah,” I say, “nobody’s ever done that to me before.”

He pulls away. Guess that was a bit too much for him. “You are 21 aren’t you?” he asks.

I let my body go slack and give him a look of disappointment. In my big voice I say, “Don’t ruin the fantasy, Mark. Just go with it.”

He pauses for a moment, as if the break in the fantasy requires him to mentally get back into it. Then, he leans forward and takes a nipple in his mouth again. I giggle, little voice, “Daddy won’t even let me date yet. He’d just die… ooo, that feels good.”

Bingo! Mark pulls his pants down, unable to wait any longer. Foreplay is over. He’s got an average size cock and I hope he just has a clue on how to use it. He climbs on the bed between my legs and I say, “In school they say we should practice safe sex.”

“Oh yeah,” he says and fumbles out a condom. He’s in a hurry and almost forgot. He barely has time to slide the condom on. Thankfully it’s lubricated. I grit my teeth as the “gentleman” sticks me without any more foreplay. I’m dry as a bone, but the gel on the condom helps some.

There’s no way I’m going to cum. His motor is running hot and he hasn’t even put the key in my ignition yet. Besides, I’m not kidding about the Jan part of me. No pain, no cum. I came for my brothers, my mentor, and a couple of boyfriends. But, spanking is a bit much on the first date. “Oh, yeah,” I moan in fake pleasure. “I never knew it could feel this good.”

“Mmmmm,” he says, a look of bliss on his face. “You’re tight.”

Hell yeah I’m tight. Poke me with no foreplay. I’ll bet your fucking ass is tight too, wanna shove something up that? “Oh, God,” I moan. “I’m not suppose to… oh, wow, this is soooo… yeah, do that some more.”

Bam! He cums. He rolls off me and unties my arms just before he falls asleep. Wow, what a thrill that was. Damn it, I make sure all the girls in my stories cum and have a good time. Why can’t I find a man who knows how to treat me right? I have to untie my own legs and ease myself out of his bed. I slide the condom down off his cock, tuck in a plastic bag, and leave. Catch a cab home.

The very next night he is back at the pub, looking for me. But he sits down by himself. Probably doesn’t recognize me. Last night he screwed me, tonight I get even.

“Hi, Hank,” I say as I slide into the booth opposite him. “I need to show you something,” I say to him and fish around in my purse. He eyes me like he’s never seen me before. I’m wearing little girl makeup tonight, got my hair in a pony tail, and using my little voice. Just to top off the image, I’m drinking a soda tonight. My look tonight says I’m not old enough to drink beer. I hand him a little laminated card.

He looks at it in the dim light of the pub, then back at me. “What’s this?” he asks.

“My real ID,” I giggle. Actually it’s the fake. “High school, see?” I point at the words Washington High School across the top of the ID. “Freshman,” I add, pointing at that tiny detail. “I’m fourteen.”

“You said you were 21,” he says.

“Yeah, well, you think a 21-year-old has a body like mine?” I ask. So what if I am 21 and do have a body like a 14-year-old? I know how to put it to good use, too. “Damn you really were feeling up a 14-year-old last night,” I smirk. Then just to put some fear in him, I add, “Try to convince a jury I’m 21.”

“This isn’t funny,” he says.

“No, I don’t suppose statutory rape is funny,” I say. “I’ve got a condom of your cum with my DNA on the outside stuck in my freezer.”

“Shit.”

“And I’ve got an easy way out for you,” I add. He’s listening. “I want two grand a month in 100 dollar bills.”

“Shit.”

“Or, you can take the discount plan and give me 20 grand for a year.”

“I haven’t got that kind of money,” he lies.

“Listen, Mark,” I say. His eyes open wide at the use of his real name. “Willy says you made half a mil last year. Don’t give me this poor little guy routine.”

“Who’s Willy?”

Willy’s this guy I made up. When a mark starts lying to me and whining, I know he’s not taking the little girl seriously. For a white guy, Willy conjures up this image of a big black guy who gives orders and takes no shit. Actually the only Willy I ever knew was a cute, cuddly guy, but for some reason that name strikes fear in guys like Mark. “You don’t want to know who Willy is,” I say. That adds to Willy’s mystique and heightens Mark’s fear.

Mark looks around the room real quick, his eyes settling on a table of black guys. Couple of jocks sitting there and one of them just happens to look up as Mark looks over. Mark quickly looks back at me and I know he’s given Willy a face already.

“I haven’t got that kind of money on me,” says Mark.

“You will tomorrow,” I say. “Come by tomorrow with 200 Ben Franklins and we’ll be square for a year.”

Mark reaches across the table as if he wants to hold my hand. “I can help you,” he says. “If Willy is making you…”

“Cut the crap, Mark,” I say. “Willy won’t let me go. Just pay the money. Besides, he gives me a cut, so I like the dough, too.” Yeah, ‘Willy’ gives me 100% of the take.

We’re done, so I start to slide out. As I stand, I lean back over. “See you tomorrow. Just so you don’t get any ideas… you fucked me last night and that’s expensive. If you fuck Willy tomorrow night, it’s expensive and painful.”

I saunter out of the pub. Mark makes my list of donors 9 now. Some take the discount plan and some are on the monthly plan. Altogether I pulled down nearly 200 grand last year. I plan to end this lifestyle some day. Maybe meet Harry Potter or some other naughty boy who loves me for what I am and knows how to treat a pain slut, but for now I’m young, single, and loving what I do.