Mias Secret Life

I had just turned 18 at the start of my senior year of high school. With an easier class load and more time to myself, things should have felt lighter. But honestly, I was still deeply unhappy. I had spent my entire life trying to please my parents maintaining perfect grades, racking up extracurriculars but none of it made me feel less alone. I had very few friends, and no one I could really share my thoughts or feelings with.

That loneliness led me to porn.

At first, it was just normal, vanilla videos online. But I got curious. I found myself drawn to Twitter, and one night, I created a secret account.

With my newfound free time and freedom, I started to get more bold. On Twitter, I began posting pictures of my body, begging for attention from the perverts lurking there. It was easy, honestly. I knew my skinny, curvy body would attract men. I loved the idea of pleasing random strangers. I loved being degraded by them. It became a habit. I'd talk to dozens of men a day.

One day, I posted a Q&A for my growing list of followers. My DMs and replies blew up with questions. Most were typical, asking about my body. Others were more obscure, digging into taboo kinks. Normally, I never shared personal details about myself, mostly for safety. But something about the anonymity of a medium-sized city made me feel bold. So I posted where I was from.

Almost instantly, my inbox flooded with messages from men nearby, all asking to meet up. The idea of hooking up with a stranger for my first time scared me. But it also turned me on. I started replying, slowly, teasing the idea. One guy caught my eye. His username was "9 Inch Perv," and he claimed to go to college just down the road from my high school. He asked to hook up.

I messaged him, and we clicked fast. He told me what he thought of my body and sent me pictures of his cock. It was one of the biggest I'd ever seen online. He would tease me constantly, commanding me to do things for him, pushing my limits. I found myself obeying more and more, completely turned on.

Eventually, I agreed to meet him.

I was nervous, of course. But the frustration from months of teasing and isolation had left me more desperate than ever. We agreed to meet at a small Chinese restaurant near his college and my school.

The day finally came, and I was fully prepared. I wanted to look perfect for him. But I also didn't want to look suspicious, so I wore a conservative outfit; a baggy T-shirt and sweatpants. What no one could see was that I wasn't wearing anything. No bra. No panties. Just me, naked under the clothes.

Before heading to school that morning, I touched myself. I couldn't stop thinking about finally losing my virginity to a guy whose real name I didn't even know. I was completely distracted all day, spacing out in every class, biting my lip thinking about him.

Finally, the bell rang. It was time.

I arrived at the restaurant five minutes early and saw him almost instantly. He was tall, probably 6'4, with dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Lean, but muscular. He didn't look like what you'd expect from a guy with a name like "9 Inch Perv." He stood up and walked toward me.

"You must be Mia."

I thought he was going in for a hug, but his arms wrapped around me, and I felt his large hands squeeze my ass through my sweatpants.

Totally caught off guard, I barely managed to respond. "Y-yeah... It's me. I'm really glad to meet you, sir."

I made sure to address him the way he always ordered me to online. He leaned into my ear, voice low and steady.

"We're going to do everything you begged for."

That one sentence sent chills down my spine. I felt helpless in the best possible way. Before I could respond, he took my hand and led me outside.

We didn't say much on the drive to his apartment. My heart was pounding the entire way. I kept glancing at him, still shocked by how real it all was. By how much I wanted it.

When we got to his place, he led me to his bedroom.

He turned to me and grinned. "I've waited forever to see your sexy body in person. Give me a little show."

He kissed down my neck, my collarbone, lower still. His hands roamed my body with ownership, squeezing, teasing, exploring every inch like he'd memorized me from our chats and now needed to confirm it all in person.

I was trembling. Not from fear, but from the overwhelming heat building inside me. Every part of my body felt alive, raw and exposed. When he pressed his cock against my entrance, I gasped.

It was thick. So thick. My heart raced.

"You're going to take all of it," he commanded.

He pushed in slowly, stretching me more than I ever thought possible. My breath caught in my throat, my fingers clawing at the sheets. Pain flickered through the pleasure, but I wanted it. God, I needed it.

He didn't give me time to adjust. Once he was halfway in, he pulled back and thrust again, deeper and harder. I cried out, legs wrapping instinctively around him, holding him to me.

"F-fuck," I moaned, my voice shaking. "It's so big..."

He grinned and leaned in close. "You begged for this cock, didn't you? Now take it like the slut you said you were."

And I did.

He fucked me hard, each thrust punching the air out of my lungs. I came almost instantly, clenching around him as wave after wave rolled through me. But he didn't stop. He grabbed my hips and pulled me to the edge of the bed, flipping me onto my stomach.

"Ass up," he said.

I obeyed without thinking, arching my back as he plunged back inside me. The bed creaked beneath us, my moans echoing off the walls. I lost track of time, lost in the sensation, the pounding rhythm of his body using mine.

I cried out again, overwhelmed, and tears blurred my vision.

"You like crying for cock?" he growled, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back. "That's what a real slut does."

I couldn't answer. I could only sob and nod, my body shaking as another orgasm ripped through me.

Then he slowed, just enough to pull out and drag me up by the arm. He guided me to the edge of the bed, positioned my head over it, and stroked his cock just inches from my mouth.

"You're going to take it all. No excuses."

He shoved into my mouth, and I gagged. My throat tried to close around him, but he held my head steady and pushed deeper. I struggled, tears streaming, drool pooling down my chin, but I didn't pull away.

I wanted this. Every second of it.

He groaned and pulled out just in time to blast his cum across my face. It was hot, sticky, and I gasped as it hit my lips, my cheeks, my eyelids. He stood over me, panting, watching his release drip down my skin.

"Smile for the camera," he said.

I turned, face glistening, and grinned. "I'm your naughty little slut," I whispered, just as the camera's red light blinked.

But he wasn't done.

He flipped me over again, entered me from behind, and this time he was rougher. Deeper. One hand around my throat, the other on my hip, pounding into me like he needed to own every inch of me.

"I'm not stopping until I've ruined this pussy," he said.

I didn't want him to stop. I begged for more, even when it hurt. Especially when it hurt.

When he finally came again, spilling inside me with a deep groan, I collapsed against the sheets. My body was sore, trembling, soaked in sweat and sex.

He leaned over me and whispered, "You're mine now."

I didn't reply. I didn't need to.

Later, he helped me clean up, and we lay on the bed in silence for a while. Eventually, he convinced me to upload the video to Twitter. My followers exploded with comments. Shock, jealousy, praise.

They couldn't believe I'd actually done it.

Neither could I.

But it didn't end there. He kept messaging me. We met again. And again. And before I knew it, I wasn't just his little online toy anymore but his real slut.