You know that whole cliché of Catholic girls taking it in the ass till marriage? That’s me, except not actually because of religion in my case. Well, at least not directly.
Perhaps I should explain.
I’ve never had vaginal sex. I grew up with the unique Hispanic-Canadian brand of helicopter parents that refused to even utter the word “sex”, but also wanted their only daughter to somehow lock down a doctor from Toronto. When I finally got out of my hometown for uni (environmental science major), I discovered the World Wide Web of sex. I also discovered that I have a *really* high sex drive.
Being a shy shut-in with the newfound freedom to let my freak flag fly, I quickly learned of the Catholic poophole loophole, whereby dick in the ass before marriage is somehow invisible to Jesus. Seems kinda sketch, but, hey, the dick-in-ass part didn’t sound so bad. Actually, it sounded kinda hot.
And that’s how I found my fetish. I don’t even believe in the whole chastity till marriage (just don’t tell my parents that), but the thought of being one of those girls really got me going. Catholic? Check. Conservative parents? Check. Desire for dick in my ass? Double check.
Downside is I didn’t have dick yet. Until then, I had the wonderful power of sex toys at my disposal. The true freedom of college is the ability to pierce your tits and buy chastity belts and butt plugs to your heart’s content.
It wasn’t long until I had a whole collection. Suffice to say, my pussy was henceforth permanently locked away and my ass (almost) permanently plugged. But it still wasn’t quite the full thing. I was a virgin, yes, but so was my poor butt. I still needed real dick to become one of those Catholic butt sluts. I fancied myself to soon be “Sabrina, butt slut extraordinaire”.
One night in uni, I got myself drunk and horned up enough to try. I snuck into a party just long enough to steal a guy away for a quick hookup. Legit, within 15 minutes of meeting him, I was hiking up my skirt to reveal my belt and plugged booty. To this day, I still do not know how I ever had that much confidence. Needless to say, the guy was surprised. Very pleasantly surprised. Or at least that’s what his prompt ass-fucking told me.
After that night, however, I never tried anything similar again. Sure, it was hot. Sure, the guy was actually a gentleman about the whole experience. But I was a shy girl at heart. A horny shy girl, but a shy girl nonetheless. And now that I had lived out the fantasy, I was perfectly happy to retreat back into my shell and fuck my own ass like a horny little hermit crab.
For the rest of uni, I maintained my little routine of keeping my pussy locked and my ass plugged, and I otherwise focused on my non-sex-related life goals. By the time I graduated, I knew I wanted to have my own little sustainable farm in the woods, where I could be “Sabrina, horny hermit extraordinaire”. Plus, it’d put my degree to use, a downright luxury nowadays.
Post-grad, I worked several years, saving up money for my dream. Not a day passed—either at home or in the office—where I wasn’t plugged up in chastity. Finally, after 4 years of working an office job, I purchased a 10-acre plot in the mountains west of Ottawa. Straight cash, no debt. (Thank fuck for cheap land up north.) I still couldn’t quit my job at that point, though, as I still had bills to pay, but I came up to my land every weekend to plant trees and build my little cottage. A little cottage perfect for a horny little hermit.
During the first several months, I scarcely met my neighbors. With work and trees and cottage, my hands were full. Plus, I don’t exactly fit in with everyone else here. Most of the people up here are weirded out enough by a single Hispanic girl into sustainable agriculture. Imagine their horror if they knew what this little slut had going on under her overalls, too.
One chilly Saturday in October, I was up on my ladder, struggling to attach a gutter to my roof.
Suddenly, a male voice spoke up behind me, “Need any help there?” The voice didn’t sound old or crotchety.
I turned around on top of the ladder. When I saw the man standing there, blood rushed to my cheeks. And it wasn’t just the chilly air. The man below me was fairly young—he looked about my age—, tall, and with dark stubble all along his jawline. I tried not to think about the plug that was stretching my butt. Or the nipple clamps hidden under my jacket.
“I’m Cory, by the way. And I think you’re my next-door neighbor.” He gestured down the road a few hundred meters to the nearest house. I’d always thought it was more crotchety old folks who had lived there. He finished, “Actually, my parents own the property, but I live with them.”
“Oh, I didn’t know anybody was behind me.” I navigated my way down the ladder. When I got to ground level, I realized how much taller Cory was. I could tuck my whole head under his chin and still have a couple centimeters to spare. Fuck did he look handsome in that grey jacket of his, though. “I’m Sabrina, by the way.”
In the ensuing conversation, Cory mentioned that he’d seen me in passing a couple of times, but that now he had an invitation for me for his family’s barbecue that night. Yes, a little late in the season for barbecue, but I suppose you gotta use your snow-free months to the max, eh?
As nice as Cory was, however, I didn’t really want to show up to the barbecue. I was sweaty, dirty, and plugged up like a depraved slut. But I was also a little hermit crab. And I didn’t really want to come out of my shell. I was happy with my little routine. My little plot of land. My little dream. A little lonely at times, maybe, but I’d have some sheep and ducks come spring. And sheep are friends, right? Plus, I could get freaky on my own with all my toys without worry of how any man will react to my embarrassing little fetish.
Much to my surprise that evening, however, I walked my little plugged booty over to Cory’s house for the barbecue. In preparation, I had managed to clean myself up into a cozy burgundy dress and black leggings. Perfect for fall weather… and to hide what I still had on underneath. Did I mention I’m a depraved little slut? Because, yeah, I’m shameless.
At the barbecue, I briefly met most of the other neighbors in the immediate vicinity, although they were all as old and crotchety as I had expected, given the region. The real attraction for me was Cory. I was scared and shy, but also drawn to him. Like I could curl up like a hermit crab into his arms. In true hermit crab fashion, I latched onto him for most of the barbecue, talking about our jobs, our dreams, our passions… Turns out Cory worked a remote office job out of Ottawa, and he was up in the middle of nowhere Ontario both for the free rent and the peace and quiet. I could listen—and watch!—him talk all day. I was like a puddle under my dress the whole time as his arms gestured around as he spoke. I couldn’t help but imagine those arms holding me down and making me his.
Yeesh, I really need to get a grip on myself. At least it was enough to distract me from the looks I got all evening. Sure, no one said anything blatantly objectionable, and most were actually quite nice, but I still felt like the odd one out in the whole room. A little liberal Hispanic slut amongst white hill folk. In that crowd, Cory was the only one that made me feel normal. Like he stuck out just a little bit, too. Just enough to make me feel like I at least wasn’t the only weird one in the room. I mean, who else out here would have intently followed along when I started opening up about silvopasture, mycorrhizae, and soil carbon? Two city-transplant youngsters in a room full of old, rural-born folks.
After the barbecue, Cory walked me back home to my cottage. I really wish I could say I got up on my tippy-toes for a porch-light kiss goodnight, but, alas, no such bravado from me. Even without that, though, I was just really happy to have made a friend. I went to bed that night giggling to myself like a schoolgirl who’s just seen the cutest boy ever.
Over the next two years, Cory and I become best friends. I also fully finished my cottage, grew out a little pasture, quit my job, moved up here full time, and got some sheep and ducks. Until the trees grew up and started bearing fruit and nuts, my income would mostly come from sheep milk and duck eggs. It’s a tight budget, but it’s a peaceful life. No more commute to and from the city every weekend. Just chilling up here, taking care of the saplings and animals. Lots of time to indulge in special kinky Sabrina bondage and butt plug sessions. All while thinking of Cory, no less. But I was too much of a wuss to make a move on him or admit my feelings. Plus, I didn’t even know if he saw me that way. If he did, he probably would have made a move himself a long time ago. Lord knows he’s been hanging out with a plugged-up little brown slut almost every day for the past two years. If he wanted, my ass has always been his to take.
But alas, no taker.
One day, Cory asked me to be his plus-one at his friend’s wedding. Maybe he’s just been oblivious as men tend to be. Maybe I just gotta doll myself up in an extra nice dress at the wedding, and he’ll finally realize that he’s gotta plant those lips on mine. That he’s gotta wrap his arms around me claim me already.
I bought myself a really flattering coral dress for the wedding. Summer, so I could get away with skin. And a lot more cleavage than Cory’s ever seen on me. I mean, I’m not a prude on the farm with how I dress, but sundresses and overalls don’t have the out-and-out sex appeal of a booby and leggy summer cocktail dress. Coupled with matching heels and a pink lipstick, and I was ready for Cory to see me.
When Cory picked me up from my cottage to drive to Ottawa together, I caught his eye wandering a bit. And all throughout the drive, I could see him steal glances in ways I had never seen him steal them before. But still he said nothing but our usual banter and conversation. My plugged ass ached all the drive there, just begging for him to make his move already and take me.
But he never did. All wedding long, I kept catching his eyes drifting. Even in our shared hotel room (two beds, though), he was still too much of a gentleman when I asked him to unzip me out of my dress. I didn’t try anything more daring than that, though, because I was still a shy wuss at heart, even if I was getting slightly emboldened out of desperation. I returned from the trip hornier and more frustrated than ever before in my life.
So it wasn’t long after getting back home before I decided to indulge myself in a particularly intense bit of self-bondage. I slipped on my sexiest fishnets and stilettos. Then, I cinched my waist into a leather corset and clamped my pierced nipples tight. I then applied cherry dick-sucking-red lipstick to my lips and put on a choker that read “SLUT” in all caps. Subtle, I know.
Next, I lubed up my ass and slid myself into [this](https://www.extremerestraints.com/the-steel-impaler-tower-medium-large.html) contraption, enveloping the cold steel into my rear through the hole in my chastity belt. I locked my ankles into the device. Lastly, I inserted a large penis gag into my throat and locked it into place, slipped on a blindfold, and finally locked my arms into the stockade with two timer locks set for one hour.
Once fully locked in, I started grinding against the steel rod inside my ass, fucking myself with it. Slowly at first, then picking up my pace. I’m happy that I’m one of those lucky types of girls who can finish from penetration alone. Well, anal penetration, at least. I didn’t know yet for vaginal.
I kept grinding my ass onto the hard steel rod, fucking and impaling myself repeatedly, working myself towards climax. Blind and immobile and throat filled with silicone dick, I fucked myself to several orgasms on that steel. The whole time I imagined I was riding Cory’s steel instead, that I could be his Catholic anal slut.
After several climaxes, the timer on my phone went off, alerting me that an hour was up. I wiggled my arms in the stockade to pry my arms out like I had done dozens of times before. But the locks didn’t budge. More wiggling and more struggling still achieved nothing. The timer locks must have been broken.
It’s then that I began to panic. I tried as hard as I could to get out, to wriggle free from either the restraints or break the locks, but it’s no use. A thought forced its way to the front of my brain: my phone. Fortunately, I always kept it near my head, in case of situations exactly like this. Unfortunately, using it means someone walking in and finding me like this. Walking in and finding this little Latina slut helpless and locked into place. I’d have to change my identity and flee to Zimbabwe afterwards. That is if I didn’t die of embarrassment first.
After another hour of struggling against the locks and my restraints, I finally conceded defeat. I managed to wriggle off my blindfold and used my nose to unlock my phone. I slowly nosed my way into my text app, opened up my messages with Cory, and typed out “help im stuck”.
I hit send knowing that I was never gonna be able to look him in the eye again after this. Gonna have to dye my hair and make like a slutty-but-stupid female Jason Bourne.
An agonizing 15 minutes later, I heard a knocking on my door and Cory announcing himself. It’s all I could do to shut my eyes and wait. A minute later, Cory announced that he was gonna break down the door unless I said not to. With a 5-inch silicone penis in my throat, naturally, I couldn’t respond. Besides, I had bigger issues right then than worrying about having to repair some stupid door.
Soon after, the loud crash of a wooden door being kicked in filled my ears. Cory’s footsteps reverberated all through my soul. I shut my eyes as hard as possible, as if that would lock out the embarrassment of him finding me like this.
He didn’t even have to say anything, but I knew what kind of expression must have been on his face. The longest, quietest 30 seconds of my life passed.
“Do you have bolt cutters?” he asked. Welp, he’d definitely seen and examined my predicament now. “You can nod yes or no.”
I nodded. Eyes still shut, of course.
Through the world’s worst game of 20 questions, he narrowed down to where I kept my bold cutters and managed to find them and cut free the locks. He helped me out of the contraption and lifted me to my feet. The air in the room was cold and quiet, but his hand was warm. I could and feel the blood pulsing through each one of his fingers. He then draped his jacket over my shoulders.
My eyes were still shut, though. I knew my life here was over. Literally the worst thing that could have ever happened. Why did I have to be such a stupid slut and use the timer locks? Why couldn’t I have just been happy with something less potentially inescapable? Why couldn’t I have just been a normal person for once and not had this crazy fetish? Why couldn’t I have just asked him out a long time ago, butt plug-free, and had a nice, normal relationship?
Wordlessly, Cory pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me. I started sobbing into his chest.
Eventually, he broke his silence. “Everything’s okay, Sabrina. I know this is, well, an embarrassing circumstance. But I still like you. And, while we never talked about it before, I’m actually pretty kinky, too. I never knew you were, too, though. I thought—”
I cut him off, “Wait, you like me?”
I think now he started to blush. He stuttered and fumbled with his words, before finally speaking straight. “Okay, yeah, I’ve sorta had a crush on you since basically I first saw you. But I was always worried about making a move. I don’t even—” Cory trailed off. Then he asked, “Wait, you like me, too?”
Somehow, my cheeks managed to blush even more and my heart managed to beat out of my chest even more. “Yeah, I liked you from when I first saw you, too. That day when I was struggling with my gutters.” I paused. “Not that you helped with them.”
That got a laugh out of Cory.
I continued. “I kept hoping you’d make a move and kiss me. Even the night of that first barbecue you invited me to.” I gestured down at all my kinky setup. “Hell, I even hoped way more times than I can count that you would just jump my bones.”
Finally, we both made a move simultaneously and locked our lips. At least the stilettos helped me reach him. But he still got to cup both my cheeks in his palms. I melted like any girl would, even with everything that had happened.
Eventually, we remembered our time and place, and decided to get me fully out of my binds before continuing any further. Cory pulled at the cool metal of my chastity belt and asked if I needed it cut. But I sheepishly had to admit that I had the key for it, but that I kept it on because I was trying to be anal-only until marriage. I also admit that literally every single time he has seen me, I have had a butt plug in.
Cory pulled me into him again and whispered in my ear, “That’s kinda hot, actually.”
We locked lips again, this time more desperately. His eager tongue explored my mouth, and mine his. His hands ran coarsely over my body, finding my pierced tits and pinching them. They ran down further towards my waist, and he took a firm grasp and laid me down on my sofa nearby. No words needed to be spoken. In that moment, we both knew what was going to happen. We both knew what we both wanted. We both knew his cock was finally going in my little butt.
It slid in effortlessly, stretching open my canal. It felt so filling, so warm, in a way the cold steel of the stockade could never replicate. His firm hands held me in place as he began to thrust. I took him all the way to the base of his shaft, fully ensheathing him. Shortly, his thrusting began to speed up. His breaths grew hotter and faster on my neck. His grip on my waist grew tighter.
His thrusting was coming to a crescendo. And, somehow, so was I.
My body was taking it all. My body was thriving on real cock. My little Catholic ass loved being spread wide and filled. His member was hitting that spot up in my ass that always makes me cum. I know it’s not a P-spot, but it was definitely hitting *something* right in there. My poor little booty could only handle so much more before I would explode all over his cock.
Until finally, both of us couldn’t take it any more. Cory gave one final thrust all the way to the hilt inside of me. That thrust was all it took to send me into my own climax. As he shot forth ropes of cum deep into my bare asshole, my ass clenched around him. Pulsating hard in tune to his pulsing. Milking every last spurt from him. Stealing every drop my body could get. I needed every tiny bit.
When our climaxes finally began to subside, Cory slowly retrieved his cock from my ass. I found the full feeling quite comforting—and I didn’t want any of his cum to go to waste—so I slipped my plug back in to seal in all his load. We cuddled and fell asleep together on the sofa. In the morning, we realized we never even managed to take off my “SLUT” collar. From now on, though, I officially wanted to be *his* slut. I kept the collar on while I went to collect fresh milk and eggs for breakfast.
Edit: spelling
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/uqaubn/my_neighbor_accidentally_discovered_that_i_am_the
So glad I found this one to read, it was amazing
I am so happy for you! Good luck with your relationship!
Fantastic story. They’ve got some fun exploring to do next…