Moaningful Confessions | Ted’s Bundy

Moaningful Confessions | Ted’s Bundy

Being a broke Uni student, everyone does things to earn a little extra cash. For me, it was selling my body.

A man, who we shall call Dave, who I’ve done a few things for, asked me one fateful evening if I could join in for a threesome. I kindly declined. However, I don’t think he got the hint, as he started begging and offered $1,000 to join in. This sparked my attention. After a bit of convincing and talking to my flat, I agreed.

The night came and I prepped myself by douching and having a long shower, mentally preparing myself for what was about to happen. I drove over to Dave’s office and he greeted me outside. I walked in and entered his office. Inside was a big desk, a heater on full blast, a few candles lit to set the mood and a bed with a man blindfolded, naked and already in doggy style. Dave then asked me to fuck him.

I don’t know this man on the bed, he doesn’t know me, and he can’t even see me. I feel uncomfortable as fuck. Dave offers me a sniff of his poppers to get me going, so I do. Instantly I feel so aroused and ready to take this man to pound town. I take my penis, lube it up and slide my way into this man and begin to fuck him the best I can. Whilst this occurs, lurking in the corner is Dave… beating his meat with the dedication of Ted Bundy in his youth. Stalking over to the bed, he uses his lengthy fingers to loosen me up. Revisiting the poppers, I had the energy to breed the submissive man underneath me.

After leaving the man underneath me, Dave makes me put on my clothes and places me in another room as I wait for the other man to leave the premises. Dave comes and grabs me and now it’s my turn to be fucked, hoping my douching earlier had not been in vain, I put myself in the mindset to be filled with his throbbing member. However, the series of events were not what I had expected. Dave took me around his [non-specified workplace], getting to taste all the [non-specified products] in production (which were fucking fantastic) and all the Ted Bundy theatrics really resonated with the way he spoke. After a lot of passion and dedication, and with how clean the place was, I was feeling super nervous for my turn.

Dave took me back to his office and he proceeded to sit down and pull out his phone. He asked me “So what's your bank account?” I’m currently thinking, “wait, am I even going to be fucked?!” I proceed to tell him my details and I see him enter it on his phone and all is done. I’m thinking “this is the easiest grand I’ve ever earned!” After the all clear, he gets up and blows out the mood-setting candles, turns off the heater, and that’s a wrap! We say our goodbyes and we go our separate ways.

Now here comes some juicy information. A few days go by, nothing has showed up in my account. I think “maybe he accidentally put in the wrong information.” So I message Dave and ask if this is so… no reply. Another couple days go by, and I now think I’ve just been exploited for his own sexual gain. I message again asking if he even got my last text, and still not a reply.

After a few weeks of hearing nothing, I have finally given up hope. Although, I have now learnt a very good lesson, one that I shall pass on to whoever is reading this: get the cash BEFORE you dash.

Brought to you by Adult Toy Megastore

Have something juicy to tell us? Send your salacious stories to moaningful@critic.co.nz. Submissions remain anonymous. 

This article first appeared in Issue 21, 2022.
Posted 8:40pm Saturday 3rd September 2022 by Critic.