Meet Vanessa:

A good-looking tomboy. Black hair, red streaks. Nose and lip rings. A goth chick. Favourite colour: Black.

A little pudgy since her eating binge over the last few months due to her last boyfriend dumping her.

She'd walked in on him and some wench in the middle of screwing, and it all ended up with him throwing her out of the apartment. Their apartment! He changed the locks, and she found her stuff in a heap outside the door.

She was pissed these days. Bitter about what assholes men were sometimes. Most times.

Most of her boyfriends had been your typical male lug, in her opinion. Lazy, messy, inattentive, back-talking mother fuckers.

She’s on her way back to her weekly deal at the neighbourhood laundromat. She approaches the glass door and sees, right at her dryer on the front end, a blonde-haired, vagabond-type-looking guy with his hand on her panties in the dryer!

She kicks open the door, and before he even has time to react, she strides over and slams the door shut on his hand!

He freaks! He nervously tries to hide the other pair of panties sticking out of his front pocket.

She’s on him now. She grabs him by the throat and slams him up against the driers!

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you shit-assed little pervert?” she yells.

“Nossing. Please! I only find zem on ze floor, and I try to put zem back,” he says guiltily, in some kind of German accent.

She stands back, takes out her phone and clicks two or three pictures of him in the act. His guilty look. His hand in her dryer. Her panties sticking out of his pocket.

She reaches over for a newspaper on the table, slams it against the dryer by his face, and takes a few more pics.

“There we go. Now I’ve got you, you nasty little fuck! Now for the cops!” she says with a smile.

She flips her cellphone open and starts dialing out loud. “9…1…,” she hesitates with her finger hovering over the keypad, waiting to see what he'll do. 

“Please! Don’t call ze cops!,” he pleads. “Ich habben no visa… I escaped ze mob in Deutschland… ich habben no money…nossing…please don’t call ze cops!” he blurts out again, realizing he’s probably said too much.

He has.

The place is empty, so she winds up and kicks him in the nuts!

He crumples to the floor, doubled over in pain.

She’s on him in a second with her black Doc Martin pressed up against his throat.

“Why the fuck shouldn’t I turn you in, you sorry piece of shit!” she yells.

He pisses himself on the floor right then and there. First the wet patch on his pants shows, then a yellow stream streaks out across the tiles. He was shaking in fear now.

She looks down at his puddle of pee and laughs. She delights in having this guy grovelling at her feet. She takes her foot off him and sits down at the table, drumming her fingers, working out what she has in front of her right now.

She watches him shivering on the floor. A snivelling street urchin of a man. Homeless. Visa-less. Running from the law. He is a scared, shaking little bowl of jelly.

Her lips curl into a wicked little smile as she brings her face down close to his.

“What’s your story, homey? You look like a bagman… stink like one too,” she sniffs at him with disgust.

He raises up to a sitting position. “Ya, I came here on ze tramp steamah. Arrested tree times. Ended up in ze jail. Fucked up ze ass many, many times! Shit beat out of me too…. Please don’t call ze cops, I’ll do anysing!” he trailed off into a whimper.

Vanessa eyes him thoughtfully, “So you livin' on the street ay?” He nods yes.

Vanessa can begin to see the scenario now. This panty-thieving little motherfucker legally doesn’t exist. He is already fucked up with the legal system here. She could do anything to him, and he could never tell. Not after the damning pics of him she had just taken.

She starts to feel a mean flush of blood filling her veins.

“Sit up against the wall!” she says to him, with gritted teeth.

He slides up the wall, looking at her nervously, mumbling in German under his breath.

She gets up and kneels down in front of him, placing her hand on his throat. She brings her face to within inches of his.

“You’re comin’ home with me, you little motherfucker. I’ll decide what to do with you after I consider all my options.”

“But, but…” he begins to stammer out.

“But nothin’ fuckface!” She takes her foot and plunges it down onto his balls, pinning them painfully to the floor. “Arghhen heimen!”

He’s coming out with more garbling in German. She’s just thinking now.

She already has this guy under her foot. She can send him back to jail. He’s at her mercy. He knows it.

A delicious, hazy plan begins to emerge in her mind's eye.

He… humbled… captive… a whipping boy to take out her frustrations on. Humiliated in some very nasty ways. A slave to her needs… all her needs. She’d strip him of his clothes. Chain him. No one would ever know.

“And no baggage.” She chuckled at this last thought.

She reached around behind him and slipped her hand down under his pants and grabbed his ginch and yanked them up tight! He gurgled with pain.

The surge of power she felt made her panties cream with her juices.

Then she slowly stood up, pulling him by the waistband as she rose.

“Ahhrrg!” he cried out. “Get up, jerk boy!” she yelled, hauling him up to his feet.

He staggered up to a standing position as she held his package tightly in her twisted grip.

“You’re gonna pack up all my shit now and put it neatly in my hamper, understood?” She eyed him sternly.

He just nods, carefully avoiding her gaze. Terrified of pissing her off anymore. She turns him loose, giving him a hard kick in the ass as he starts to work folding and packing her laundry.

"And don't touch the panties! Just put 'em aside, you lowlife perv!"

When he has everything ready, she grabs the waistband of his underwear again, pulls them up even tighter, gets her face right in front of his, looks him in the eye, and whispers, “Follow me.”

She jerks him out of the laundromat and out onto the street. His balls are pulled up painfully by her hand on his gaunch. He humps her heavy hamper over his shoulder, stumbling along, as she controls his every step with her grip on him.

He’s looking nervously around, hoping no one recognizes him. He’s already pulled several scams in this neighbourhood.

Vanessa is feeling quite proud of herself. She is pretty much 'strutting’ down the sidewalk with her hand on this male. Her hand on the reins, so to speak. Twisting him left and right with the slightest turn of her wrist. Speaking out “Left” and “Right” commands as she does so.

She's hoping to run into one of her girlfriends. But no such luck. They reach her apartment building. A dingy little place. Obviously catering to the lowlife of the city. Vanessa had been forced into this scumhole after getting kicked out of her boyfriend’s place.

She has hated it. Up until now. Because now she sees it as a safe haven to do whatever the fuck she wants to this sorry piece of man-meat before her!

This little fuck was going to suffer the full wrath and vengeance she felt towards men right now.

As she walked him up to the front door, she was almost lost in all the deliciously wicked things she was going to subject him to.

She held him firmly, reaching into her purse for her keys. The door opens, and she kicks him inside. She stabs the elevator button several times impatiently, not wanting any of the other tenants to see him with her.

She pulls up as hard as she can on his underwear, almost lifting him off the floor. He was gargling in pain! "Achen meinen zuchen schulen!"

She just laughs.

The elevator door slides open. He stumbles in with her right behind him. She punches her floor number.

They lock eyes on the way up. It was a silent moment. He had a vague sense of what was happening to him. Her eyes burned into him with some kind of hidden purpose.

She was starting to know exactly what would be happening to him.

The elevator door opens. He is marched quietly down the dank hallway. Sounds of drunken arguments and wild cries of sex filter out to them.

Up to her apartment door. The sound of her key as he looks around nervously. The door opens. The door to the prison he knows nothing about yet. A different prison than what he was accustomed to. 

The smells of a vibrant, sexually potent female permeate the air. His cock was twitching. Being her captive might not be all bad, he thought.

Wrong.

She pushes him roughly inside. “Drop the bags!” she orders. He dumps the heavy load on the floor.

She’s been watching his ass all the way here. Drooling at the prospect that she literally owns it. She slips her hand down the back of his pants and digs her nails deeply into his ass cheeks.

“Kneel on the floor!” she says, throwing him forward.

He falls roughly to the floor and turns and faces her on his knees.

Vanessa slowly walks up to him. She twines her fingers through his hair, grips him, and turns his face to hers.

“I own your ass right now, you realize that, don’t you?” she says.

“Ya ya. Anysing, miss. Please don’t call ze cops…,”  he pleads again, hands held in prayer up to his chest.

“What a fool he was,” she thought. If he hadn't told her as much as he did, he probably wouldn’t be here right now.

She twists her fingers into his hair until his face is stretched back tightly. He wants to moan but stifles it.

“You fucking well do what I tell you now, understand?” she says through her gritted teeth.

He nods silently.

She releases her grip on him. She brings her fingers to the waistband of her black tights and runs them under the elastic band. Back and forth slowly, taunting him as much as herself.

She starts rolling them down the creamy flesh of her thighs and ass. He could smell her sex quite strongly now. She turns and brings her cheeks right in front of his face. She pulls one cheek aside and rubs her pussy up and down on his nose. The scent of her unwashed cunt is deliciously potent. He could feel the wetness on his nose. His cock was starting to throb.

“So you like panties, huh?” she teases. “Well, I’ve got a particularly dirty pair on right now that you’re gonna nuzzle that face into and SNIFF!”

She slams her ass onto his upturned face. “Get your tongue on my cunt through the gusset, you little fuck!”

She thrusts herself up and down on his face, rubbing her dirty panty crotch all over him. He works his tongue feverishly on her. She pushes him up against the wall in the hallway, then brings the toe of her shoe down onto his balls again and pins them down to the floor.

"Achh mein got!" He cries out!

“You’re mine now, bitch! You understand that?!” He only responds with his sloppy kissing and licking.

“Now work that tongue around my panty crotch, bitch boy. I want some flesh on flesh. It’s been months. And you’re gonna give me what I want!” 

“Everything I want and more,” she whispers lustily.

He slips his tongue under her tight panty band and snakes it over to her clit. She grinds herself down hard on him, forcing his tongue to slip in between her pussy lips.

He licks furiously, eagerly. He doesn’t dare want to piss her off anymore!

She bounces up and down, taking her pleasure from him. Making him fuck her hole with his tongue, "Make it stiffer!" she orders.

She reaches that glorious moment. She surges. Cries out and FLOODS his face, slamming his head over and over against the wall!

He finally slumps to the floor under her. She kneels down and rubs her pussy lips back and forth across his lips and face, taking her final pleasure out on him.

She finishes herself off, then smears her orgasmic juices all over him, using his hair as a final rag to soak everything up. Her scent is intoxicating to him.

She stands shakily and looks down at him. Her new bitch!

"Oh how he will suffer in the days ahead!" she juices at the thought.

“Now, my new boyfriend, let's get acquainted with life with Vanessa, shall we?”

She grabs a belt from the coatrack and loops it around his wrists and cinches it up tightly.

The last thing he remembers is her humming some girly tune as he is being dragged down the hallway into a dark cold room.

 ... to be continued.