How I Seduced My Neighborhood Aunt
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Dumbgirl free porn video
Case Number : 091947137
Date : 13 August 2014
Interviewing Officer : Deputy Albert Kimmel
Report prepared By : CPL Andrew Vanderhoven
Incident Type : assault, battery, kidnapping, multiple counts of rape, rape by instrumentation, oral sodomy, anal sodomy, other charges to be determined
Address of Occurrence : 557 Maple Street, Wilburton, OH 23104
Witnesses :
Gomer Chaves : Arresting officer, OSP.
Mitchell Peterson : Arresting officer, OSP
Denton Williams : 911 operator, Male, 27
Evidence :
House [557 Maple St., Wilburton OH]
Closed-circuit surveillance footage taken from house. Various videos including rape, whipping and forced sexual acts. [closed by court due to content and nudity]
Fingerprints (taken from house)
Weapons : Firearm/Colt 9mm Pistol
Other weapons : swords, spears, various whips, spiked chains. Too many misc. weapons of B&D/S&M nature to catalog. [see inventory sheet]
[INTERVIEW : Victim is a white Caucasian female, 16 years 8 mos in age. Full name is Toni Alicia Whetson. Victim is wearing white T-shirt with words “Makin’ Bacon” and silk-screened image of two pigs copulating. Victim is wearing jeans and tennis shoes. Victim appears in control of herself though still shaken. Victim is unable to speak aloud due to congenital birth defect but is able to whisper, leading to an exhausting interview process. Breaks are noted in transcript.]
Okay, I’ll admit it. It was dumb. I lived up to my name, on that one. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Okay. We got that out of the way. Start at the beginning, you said? The very beginning? That goes back a ways, almost two years.
I started doing IRC chat shit just because I was bored. If you can believe it’s possible to get bored on the internet. And, what the hell, I liked talking to people. And I was normal, on IRC. Nobody knew I couldn’t talk like normal. Nobody cared. I can’t talk like normal as you noticed. I only got one vocal cord. I frequented a few channels and got to be pretty well known. I was kinda careful, I chose nicknames that weren’t gender specific and I didn’t admit I was a girl for a long time. I liked the anonymity of it. I liked being things I really wasn’t. Like normal.
Finally, this one channel. It was kinda sexual, just the name of it ... it was named Panties ... it was, like most of IRC, full of lonely older guys looking for pussy ... can I say that? Are my parents gonna see this? Good. Anyway, what the world seems full of, pardon me, no disrespect to you guys intended, what the world seems full of, older guys looking for pussy.
Finally I changed my nick to DumbGirl and the fun started. First because that made me claim to be female, something really hard to verify on IRC, and the “dumb” part of it. It seemed to offend many guys that I called myself dumb but they understood when I explained it. That name and I go back a long way, to kindergarten, almost ... the kids at school always called me dumbgirl, because I can’t talk normal. They were doing to be hateful, of course, but I kinda grew attached to the name. It got me a lot of attention on IRC.
I didn’t pass my pic around a lot, I wasn’t a pic whore or anything. Just a few simple face shots to people I knew and trusted. I didn’t ever send any nudes, I swear to god, you won’t be able to find them anywhere ‘cause I didn’t send them. I knew better than that, I knew that shit’ll come back to haunt you.
Anyway, there was PileDrvr. Spelled P-I-L-E-D-R-V-R. I’m sure you know that from investigating his computer and shit. That’s the nick he’d used for years. He was still using it, after he ... after he had me. He seemed like a normal guy, he said he was thirty-three, which was true, I found out later ... He basically told the truth about everything, that’s what fooled me, I guess. He seemed kind and sweet and he didn’t talk sex that much ... he was interested in me, I thought, in my life ... over the course of a year and a half or so I pretty much told him my whole story, my crappy life, which I probably made sound worse than it really was ... stuff like that. He listened well, I felt like. He cared, I felt like.
About two months before what happened ... happened I got my phone. That’s when it really kinda took off. By then I’d found out that he only lived about two hours away from me and all kinds of other shit about him. Stuff that made me trust him. He never begged for my number, that’s probably most of the reason I gave it to him. All the guys in the channel were always begging me for my number once they found out I finally had a phone. But he’s the only one I ever gave it to.
He started calling me every night just to tell me goodnight, shit like that, stuff I thought was sweet. He never talked for long, just a minute, and he never seemed needy or clingy or whatever. Just hi, how ya doin’, night, and so on. We did that for two months or so before I met him. And, he was good. You guys say there’s evidence he’s done this shit before? I was not the first? I guess he kinda got some practice or somethin’ because he was good. He was smooth. Likeable.
We talked about meeting a long time before we ever did it. He acted like he didn’t really want to, that he was afraid I might not like him and shit like that. Of course, that just made me more determined. Anyway, it all came to a head when I got my license. And he was so goddam smooth he didn’t even suggest it. I was the one who came up with the idea, I thought, although I realize now I was just basically playin’ into his hands. I’m sure he’d had that idea from the start.
About six months after I got my license I did it. I did it on a Saturday when my folks were going to be out all evening and I’d have plenty of time. I knew there was four hours driving, coming and going, and then I’d have maybe three or four hours there. I didn’t go there really intending anything other than to just meet him, get to know him better. I sure didn’t go with sex in mind and I didn’t make him any promises. I thought I was doing everything right. I thought I was being fairly safe.
Anyway, as soon as my folks left the house I filled up my car and got on the interstate. We’d made arrangements to meet at a McDonald’s close to his house. I figured that was safe for a first meeting. He wouldn’t do anything out in the open. My phone took me right there even though it was the longest car trip I’d ever took by myself. I was kinda excited, I felt like I was getting away with big shit.
I got there first and waited a minute for him. I knew it was him when he drove up because he’d told me about his car a long time ago. He got out and I ran outside to meet him. I just hugged him like he was an old friend and I thought it affected him slightly. He seemed to love me already. Hell, I thought, we’ve known each other for almost two years. It should feel like that.
We basically sat and talked. We didn’t even eat nothin’. We talked for a good hour or so, nothing nasty, nothing sexual, he just listened to me mostly, I told him about school and shit, and shit about my parents ... and, okay, I probably made it sound worse that it really is ... I mean, I know my parents love me and all that, but they just kinda get on my nerves sometimes ... like all parents probably do.
Once again, I gotta admit ... the idea to go to his house was mine. He had told me about his ... collection ... his swords and spears and shit ... guy stuff, I know ... and some of his bondage shit ... anyway, I knew he lived close ... we talked some more and I finally said, before I go ... lemme see your shit, your weapons, okay?
He acted kinda unsure again, let me tell you, he did that well, he made me want stuff by acting like he didn’t want it. He was good, like I said.
Finally he said something like, “It’d be better if we went in my car, so my neighbors don’t see your car at my place, and then I’ll bring you back here, okay?” and of course I agreed with it. I thought it’d be cool to ride in his car, too. I locked mine and got into his and we took off.
And yes ... I know why nobody at McDonald’s saw us ... the seating area is off to the side, with a door ... the people at the counter never saw us. And of course we didn’t buy anything.
His house was fairly close, maybe a ten minute drive. He clicked the opener and drove right in the garage and closed it. I still didn’t have any reservations. I had already decided he was what he represented himself to be on IRC, a fairly nice guy.
We went in the house and it was nice. You seen his house, you know. I didn’t notice the shit like locks on the inside and the alarms everywhere. I just went right in. He did show me a few things, I think now just to let me know he was serious about weapons and shit.
Anyway, we sat on the couch, and talked for a few minutes, then he said, “Toni.”
I whispered “What?”
He pulled a small stool over to the table and told me to lay my phone on it and the table, supported on both ends. He said he was going to show me a trick. I did. Then, he swung his arm over his head and just karate-chopped my phone. He bent it into a “V” shape. Glass and shit went everywhere. I was just shocked, totally, I just sat there, thinking, What the fuck?
“Toni,” he said. He stood up, and stared at me. “You belong to me now. You must accept that if you are to survive. I own you, body and soul. Right, now, before we go any further I want you to bow to me. Bow, and say “Yes, Master.” Go ahead, do it. Or I will be forced to punish you.”
I just sat there, not believing what I was hearing. At first, I thought it was some kind of bad joke. I just couldn’t believe it. He stared at me for a moment longer and then he just reached down and fucking slugged me hard, right on the side of the face. It hurt like hell. He pulled back his hand to hit again, and I thought, shit, what the hell. What the fucking hell ever. I dropped off the couch to my knees, and whispered, “Yes, master,” like he had told me too. I’m no dummy.
“Thank you,” he said. He walked backwards, his eyes never leaving mine. He took some kind of silver chains out of a drawer and approached me. I saw then they were handcuffs, linked with a chain.
“Hold your hands out,” he said, and I just stared at him. He pulled his hand back again like he was gonna hit me, and I said, “Okay, okay,” and stuck my hands out. He snapped the handcuffs on them and told me to sit. I did, and he put them on my feet. I felt stupid, then, for letting him do it. I knew I was fucked and fucked bad, at that moment.
“I’ll let you cool off in your room a while. Then we’ll have dinner,” he said and he led me, pulling me by the chain. We went into the back of the house and he took me into a bedroom where there was just a small bed. He shoved me down on it and left. I heard the door lock. Shit, I thought. Shit. I’m fucked. I just laid down on the bed and cried. I mean, I was fucked. I had already told him nobody knew I was coming to see him. He knew I was sneaking around on my parents. My car was at the McDonalds. Nobody had any idea where I was. And my phone was busted to shit. I couldn’t even shout where the neighbors could hear me. I was fucked.
I cried for I dunno how long. Finally I heard the lock and he came in. He was carrying some kind of whip, one of those things people use on horses when they race. A crop.
“It’s time for you to stop crying, and learn how I expect you to serve me,” he said, or something just about as crazy. I just stared at him. I knew what was next and sure enough he pulled his arm with the whip back to hit me. I jumped up, and said, “Okay!” and he went to the closet. He opened it and took out a dress and tossed it on the bed.
“This is Saturday’s dress,” he said. “No bra or panties. Put it on. Now.”
I looked at him again, hating him. I already hated him full strength, no warming up. He acted like he was gonna hit me again and I pulled my shirt over my head. I dropped my pants and stood there in my underwear, stupidly wondering if he was going to make me go through with it. He did, of course, he pulled back his arm and I unsnapped my bra and dropped it. He smiled then, the bastard. I kicked my panties down my legs and turned away from him and pulled the dress over my head. It was one of those goofy fucking japanse costume things, it left my tits hanging out, and it barely came up far enough to cover my ... to cover me. I knew when I bent over in the slightest it’d all hang out. The fucking bastard, I though. The fucking bastard.
He took my clothes and tossed them into the other bedroom when we walked past it. He was holding my chain again. He took me to the kitchen and there followed this unbelievable fucking lesson on how to cook his shit and how to serve him at the table. He’s so fucking anal about shit you won’t believe it. You’ll see, if the stupid fuck lives. Everything had to be just so, his food perfectly cooked, nothing burned or even singed, the temps just right, the whole shit. Like I said, unbelievable. But I did get good at it, at least. The last two weeks he didn’t have to spank me, any. I’m a hell of a cook now, at least.
I didn’t do too good that first night, I burned the biscuits slightly, although he did eat them. He ate everything and then he had me sit and he fed me a few bites of this and that, making me sit straight up in the chair with my hands in my lap. He fed me like I was a little baby. He said some shit about he didn’t want me to get fat or shit, I don’t remember exactly. But he sure didn’t feed me much while I was there. I was hungry all the time. Shit, though, I can’t gripe too much, I wanted to drop five pounds and I know I’m down ten or so, from what the doctor told me.
Anyway, I ate, and then he told me I must be punished for burning the biscuits. Oh, shit, I thought, here it comes. He made me stand and place my hands on the table and stick my butt out. Then I felt him lift my skirt. Then he stopped for the longest time, I guess he was just staring at my ass. I thought, what the shit? and then I thought, Holy shit! when he finally hit me. That crop hurt like hell and by the third or fourth whack I was cryin’. He just kept going, how long I have no idea. I know my ass burned until the next day from it. Yeah, the next day, when I got another spanking for fucking something up. Meatloaf, I even fucked up meatloaf once and got my ass whipped for it.
He took me into the living room then and made me kneel on the floor like a dog for like two hours while he watched TV. And it was boring shit. That was one thing that was constant, in the what, two months? Two months I was there. Boredom. Boredom, and pain. A sore ass.
I knew he could see my ass from the way I was kneeling. Whenever I looked back at him he switched me slightly with the crop so I stopped turning around. I know he was staring at my ass, I could almost feel his eyes on it.
Finally he got up and grabbed my chain. Off we went, down some stairs into the basement. That made me really apprehensive or something. It just seemed even more dangerous than being locked in the house with a maniac. But I had no choice.
He showed me the ... the thing, the device. It was something he’d built, I guess. You’ve been there, you’ve seen it. The wheel. He tied me too it with my arms and legs outspread, the chain was long enough to allow that. He turned on a camera and then slowly turned the wheel. When I was upside down, he stopped. My dress had fallen down, of course, and I was exposed ... down there. It was right at face level, his face. Are you sure my parent’s aren’t gonna read this? Anyway, he stuck his face right in my ... my pussy, you know, and started licking and shit. Then he’d lean down and lick my tits and shit.
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