Burglar

He walked down the quiet, tree-lined street, with his dog, Bruno.  He was a nice looking man, in great physical shape. His dog was similarly muscled, sleek-furred, and calm. Their demeanor clearly said “don’t fuck with us”, and their quiet confidence had caught the eye of more than one female driver.

He was looking for a mark, casing the neighborhood. The B & E’s he had committed over the last two years had gone unreported because he was extremely careful, very picky, and he had a secret weapon.  He patted Bruno’s head affectionately.

He made note of the middle-aged woman trimming her bushes on the side yard. No one else home, middle of the day. He’d be sure to case it again this evening to see if there was a Mr.Hedge Trimmer  who came home after 6 p.m.

He thought fondly back to a job he’d pulled in a town about 50 miles west of here. He’d not thought much about the double case-out, and if not for Bruno, would have been flat-out busted. He was earnestly fucking the woman he had robbed, had her tied on the bed and watching the dog with fear in her eyes. Dayam that turned him the fuck on. Then back door had opened.

Thankfully, Bruno kept the gentleman of the house pinned in the corner when he came into the room. He’d gotten a  huge adrenaline  rush as he’d continued fucking the wife while the husband watched. And since he’d gotten so excited about it, he bent the Mr. over the end of the bed, and had a go fucking his ass, while Bruno stood guard near his head. The look in the wife’s eyes as he’d plumbed that fat ass near her feet had kept him in jerk-off fantasy fodder for a month. Even now, months later, he could get hard just remembering.

***   ***   ***

She sat up with a start. Had she been dreaming? Or had she heard something. It wasn’t uncommon for her dreams to wake her.  But no…she thought she could barely hear something   from downstairs. Could be coons in the trash cans out back, that wasn’t an uncommon occurrence.  She didn’t bother dressing. Coons wouldn’t care if she was naked.

She stepped into the kitchen and froze when she heard the menacing growl. Not a coon. A dog. And by the wee bit of light coming in the window from the moon, a giant of a dog at that.

“Easy boy.” She didn’t hold out her hand, not yet. Not with the menacing gleam of  teeth in moonlight.  She heard the squeak of the floor in the dining room a moment before she felt the presence of someone, behind her in the doorway.

“Hold.”

His voice was deep, and she shivered. She was naked, and a strange man was standing behind her. She was in shadow but still. She stiffened as she felt the smoothness of a gloved hand slip over her hip and around the curve of her bottom.

“Well, I’ve never been greeted in quite this way before.”

She shivered again. And, annoyingly enough, she felt a tiny curl of lust uncoil in her belly. She’d had dark fantasies for years. But had never ever ever thought of enacting them. She’d read somewhere that 82% of all women have rape fantasies. She was comfortable enough with the statistic to call herself normal and move on with her life.

She heard a shifting behind her, and the sudden prod of his cock against the cleft of her ass.

“Bend over and grab your ankles, slut.”

She didn’t move.

“Come.”

At the firm tone, the dog moved forward until he was inches away from her. She shrank back, feeling that cock press into the small space between her thighs, laying along her labia.

“Please…” she tried to stop the whimper; she had her pride, after all. She never wanted to be like those silly girls in those pseudo-romances, all squealing and tears, until, swooning, they  succumbed to “his” great lovemaking, and became his sex slave for life. Not, that was not her style at all.

Trouble was, that dog was scaring the piss out of her, and she wasn’t at all sure, just now, what her style was.

“Bruno, scent.”

In seconds the mans arms were around her, pulling her back to lean against him. She staggered, almost falling, and then felt it. The dog’s nose was buried in her pussy. It dragged along her clit, and there was …gods yes, his tongue was licking at her.

She moaned.

“Little whore. If you don’t follow directions, I’ll set him loose, and he’ll eat you. There’s nothing he likes better than the meat of pussy. Imagine those big teeth biting into your very vulnerable cuntlips, chewing them off, then lapping at you to get every tender bit.”

She moaned low in her throat. He wouldn’t. The dog wouldn’t. Would he?

“yes. okay.” she mumbled.

“Bruno. Stand away.”

Her heartbeat echoed dully in her head as the dog stepped back a few paces and sat. There was a sharp crack and she jumped as his hand slapped against her ass.

“You’ve been given an order, cunt. Obey.”

She bent, grasping her ankles. She felt humiliated, vulnerable, exposed.

The head of his cock pierced the fat lips of her pussy, finding and filling her hole in one stabbing thrust. He groaned.

“Nice, tight pussy.  And wet. You’re fucking cunt is wet, you old whore.”

He fucked her hard, using her hips to pull her back into his wicked thrusts. She felt it coming, her orgasm. She wanted to deny it. But as her cunt clamped down around his cock, there was no place to hide the fact that her body was enjoying the stimulation.  He pressed deeply into her, each thrust jarring her, threatening to tip her over.

He came, a fountain of juice that leaked out of her pussy as he ground his pelvis against her bottom.

“Don’t fucking move, cunt.”  He called the dog over, and she shuddered as she felt the wet tongue lapping at her pussy. He hit her clit, her lips, and darted to the entry of her hole, catching all the wetness there.

“On your knees, whore. Bruno wants his reward.”

“oh, no, no pleaseplease…” she cried, but at his sharp slap on her pussy, she all but fell to her knees.

She felt the dog behind her, clambering up. His claws scratched at her back, making her cry out, until he was positioned. His belly fur tickled her ass, her back and she felt the prodding poke of his penis. It hit her pussy, slid up to her asshole, as he tried to find a place to put it.

“Trouble, Bruno? Lemme help.”

She felt his hand probing her pussy, gathering wetness, and then the sudden, shocking thrust of his finger into her asshole.

In seconds, with his master’s assistance, the head of his slick and rubbery dog dick was pressing into her bottom. She shook her head, but didn’t dare move. She didn’t want the dog to bite her. The shock came as his cock grew bigger, longer, thicker than his owners. It was wet, and felt like a baseball bat was lodged in her ass.

She whimpered, she moaned. “Please. Hurts. Please.”

The dog began humping her ass. Faster than she’d ever known before, his cock like a piston driving into her puckerhole, stretching her. She wondered if she’d be damaged. Can an asshole be broken? It hurt, filled her with the need to press down, press it out of her.

“I like that it hurts. I like that very much.  And Bruno is very much enjoying your tight asshole. I think he might be smiling.”

There was a click, and the light in the kitchen went on. She blinked in the sudden brightness.

“I think we need to get some pictures of you two lovebirds.” He chuckled, and the sound was not pleasant. She thought her ass was going to be split as the dog humped away at it, thrusting in hard short strokes, filling her rectum with the stream of juice that was doggy jism.  She remembered about the knot that grew at the end of the fucking, to hold that jism inside his mate, to aid in impregnation.  She thought she felt something growing just inside her ass.

“Oh…his knot…”

“Yes. His knot will hold you there while I take some sweet pictures of the two of you. And you’ll be a good little dog-whore, and smile up at me. And of course, when I leave, you won’t report this to the cops….or else these pictures will be sent to everyone in your email account. You wouldn’t want your pastor to know you’re a doggie bitch, do you?”

He laughed again, and she felt tears run down her cheeks. Her ass hurt as the knot grew, pressing and stretching her rectum wider. The dog was still thrusting, slowing now, and she felt a funny tingle.

No.

No.

Her head fell forward as her body quivered. The spray of liquid from her pussy shocked her.

“You whore! You came from having your ass fucked…by my dog. Congratulations! You are now a certified dog cunt.  And coming while he fucked your butthole? That makes you the nastiest of whores.”

There was a flash and snap as he took her picture. He moved around her shooting the mating from every angle.

She knew she’d never tell. Never.

 

*** *** ***

He walked down the street, smiling.  His dog sniffed at trees as they strolled along. He hadn’t been in town long. A lovely woman in a Pontiac cruised past him, looking at him over the tops of her sunglasses, and smiling invitingly.

Pissed

He tugged her out to the backyard by the leash he held tight in his fist. He was pissed.

Super pissed.

So pissed he needed to kennel her out here, or he’d strike her in anger.

He never struck in anger. That was for fuck-ups, and people who had no controls. Being her Master, her Owner carried responsibilities.

She whimpered behind he gag he’d packed into her stuttering mouth. He hated excuses. So what that he’d come home a full day early? He had told her exactly what to do, laid out a full plan of tasks to keep her mind and body active and purposeful.

Instead, he’d come home to empty chip bags on the end table, crumbs on the couch cushions, empty dvd cases on the floor, half-empty tea mugs on the floor, the kitchen counter. She had to have used every fucking mug.

And there was only one item checked off on his list. What, she thought she could do nothing on the list for the 4 days he was gone, and get everything done in a day? AND clean up the fucking mess she’d made everywhere.

Fucking stupid cunt.

He strode into the house, after pushing her into the doggie kennel he’d build for her. He’d put a fresh bowl of water out in a bit, but for now, she needed some cage time.

And he needed a fucking housekeeper.

He peered into their bedroom. The big king bed was rumpled, and mussed. He smelled cum, and lube. He ran his hand over the sheets. Dry now, but she’d had more than one or two orgasms.

Fucking cunt!

She sure did fuck up royally, when she decided to act out. And soon she would pay the piper. He tugged the sheets off the bed, and carried them to the laundry room. Starting the washer, he went back to the kitchen and got her bowl. He filled it with water, and carried it outside.  She lay on her side, looking up at him warily.

As she should, the fucking dumb cunt.

He opened the wire door, slid in the bowl. She looked up at him. He pushed the door shut, locking it securely.

“How…” she mumbled behind the gag.

“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up. I’ll ungag you later. If you’re thirsty you’ll figure out a way to get some water into that piehole. ” He glared down at her.

“I need to go take a pi….” He broke off. Well, well. She’d pissed him off, to be sure. Maybe it was time to take punishment to a whole new level. He pulled out his cock, and began to piss.

His stream caught her face. He played it over her hair, her eyes, towards her ears, as she angled her head away. And her nose. He wanted her to smell his piss for a good long while.

She whimpered.

She moaned.

And soon, she was dripping in his pissed off.

Whistling, he tucked himself away, and turned back to the house. Suddenly, things were looking up.

Rough Play

Today’s post is a guest post by Anonymous. Enjoy!

Rough Play

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t see. Flat on her back, her legs were spread open.

“New?”

“Yes. Fresh meat.”

She tried to cry out, but the gag kept her silent as she listened to the voices. Hands on her body, touching, probing. She cried out in her head what she couldn’t voice.

“A bit dry,” said the first voice as fingers thrust into her cunt.

“Pleasure or pain?” asked the second.

“Both.”

The sound of a vibrator broke the silence. It hit her clit like an electric shock. Then the cane hit her thighs. She screamed against the gag to no avail. Just as she thought she could take no more pain, she came hard. The vibrator and cane stopped. Fingers thrust into her cunt again.

“Better.”

“Again.”

The cane rained down on her thighs, breasts and mound. She bucked and screamed in pain. Muffled noises came from behind the gag. The caning stopped and as she caught her breath, she felt the nudge of a cock against her cunt lips. Shaking her head no, did no good. Brutal fingers pinched her breasts and she was fucked hard and fast. When the first one came, he was replaced by the second one.

She felt a needle prick and lost consciousness.

 

She woke up draped on a frame and on her hands and knees. She couldn’t move. Head propped up and legs spread wide. No gag. She saw the first cock thrust towards her face and into her mouth.

“You bite, you die.”

She nodded. Sucked cock. Face fucked. Her mouth filled with his come and he held it closed until she swallowed. Another came to take it’s place. Mouth full, she couldn’t say anything as the cane came down across her ass. He came as she screamed her pain. She gaged and swallowed.

Another cock, another mouthful. As this one fucked her face, hand on her head, another took her cunt. She lost count of the cocks and cum. She was sore and sick with all the cum inside her. She felt fingers scoop cum from her cunt and slapped across her ass.

“NOOOO!” she cried. She tried to hold her ass closed to no avail. Fingers probed and fucked her ass. Hands slapped her reddened flesh. As she tried to catch her breath, her ass was pierced by the first cock. She cried out in pain. She was gagged by a cock. The cock in her ass sawed in and out. Fingers in her cunt dipped and coated the cock. The pain was… intense. Then she felt him fill her ass with his cum. No sooner did that cock leave than another took it’s place. The one in her mouth pulled out and covered her face in cum.

She felt a cock enter her ass and then one in her cunt. A third fucked her face. She was fucked hard enough to rattle the frame she was tied to. More cocks. More come. More pain. She passed out.

 

She woke tied to the goal post on the football field. Cum leaked from her cunt and ass. A pool of cum and bile vomit, pale yellow was next to her head. Blinking, she saw a sign around her neck. “86 football players, 10 coaches and 3 waterboys. Paybacks are a bitch, you journalistic cunt.” is what it said. She shuddered.

The Van

You know you want me. You know you can’t stop thinking about  me. You crave what I have to offer, what I will give to you. Pain, so much pain, the best pain of your life.

This is how almost every email from him starts. He’s been hounding me for so long now, I barely remember the start of it. I’ve been part of that Kinks r Us website for a long time, it’s how I met my Sir, after all. And although I’ve chatted up friends, subsisters and Dom’s there, ….it’s not the focus of my energies. Sir is.

And then he came along. This Dark Lord Pain Master. He came, as others had from time to time, to my profile page, and inquired about my availability. I responded politely that I served another. Yet, he did not back off as other Doms did.

He pursued.

Sir said to ignore him, but it ate away at me, until finally after one provocative message, I exploded. I wrote the most anger-filled, mean, nasty email to him.  I went on and on about him disrespecting me, my Sir, my life. About his continued pushing for something that was out of his reach. About what a fucking stupid idiot he was to keep knocking on a door that was closed to him.

I knew you were thinking about me. Such passion. I know how to channel that. How to make you hurt. You want me. I know you do. You know you do.

I growled, I paced, yet I kept it together and just ignored him.  Still,  he was a constant irritant. And it fretted me. Why me? Why does he keep coming back to me? Surely there are more submissives in the Big City near to him. Why would he keep sending me email?

Sir said it was because I was amusing him, by replying now and again. That he was fishing and I was obliging by taking the bait time and again.

And likely He was right. So I continued to ignore the fool. I no longer mentioned it to Sir when I got an email, just read it,  boiled with righteous indignation, and deleted it.

I know who you are. I know where you are. You are mine. It’s time to admit the truth here.

Yeah. Right. Fucktard. I finally went to the website and got the fucking asshat blocked. No more emails. No more him sitting and jerking off to my profile pics. This huge weight just fell from my shoulders, and life was rosy once more. I didn’t bother Sir with any of the details, He’d told me to handle it, and so I had.

2.

This getting in shape thing is for the fucking birds. And, okay I did procrastinate a bit. Had the dinner dishes to do, and then the dog was curled up on the couch and trying to entice him off there once he’s settled? Impossible.

“Fine,” I grumble, fast-forwarding my ipod to my Walking Music set, as I set off in the gloaming without the damned pooch. I have the music up loud, driving me forward. I start slow, heading up West Street, and up it is. It goes for a long while at a gradual incline, which warms me up and makes me puff a bit. Traffic is getting lighter, which is a blessing. Walking while dragging in deep lungfuls of car exhaust is gross.  I walk to get healthy, not inhale second-hand car exhaust.

A car slows beside me and it’s dusky and I’m jumpy. I’m torn between moving on and ignoring, or taking a look. I can’t help myself, I look. Oh, she’s got to be 80 if she’s a day.  I give her directions to the street she is looking for, and pick up my pace as she slowly peels into traffic. A white van almost, almost takes her out, but stops in time. She does a wide U-turn, making me shake my head.  The van creeps by, as do the three other cars behind it.

I turn down my first cross street, then just a half-block ahead, the second street. This street is so quiet. Houses have lights on inside, families moving through their evening. It’s peaceful, serene even. I relax and remember why I love walking at this time of night.  I hear a vehicle come up behind me, and I move to the right side of the street to let it pass. A white van pulls a bit ahead of me then stops. The side door opens.

“Excuse me, Miss?”

I pull out my earbud. I come abreast of the door. It happens fast, though it feels like slow-motion. He whips a bag over my head, his hand over my mouth and throws me into the van. I hit my head, breath whooshes out of me. Reaching up I try to tug off the hood, yet I’m propelled forward. I feel something closing around my neck,as the sack is pulled off, and a ball gag is forced between my lips. It’s fucking huge, way bigger than the ones Sir and I have played with. My jaw starts aching, and I’m slapping and fighting. My wrists are secured, and I can dimly see the outlines of a cage? No, it’s a gate. It separates the front driving area from the cargo area. Along the sides are a things I can’t fully see. There is only a tiny bit of light, he has curtains separating so someone looking in the windshield won’t see anything amiss.  And my head is stuck through an opening, and secured with straps.

I’m folded in half, head and hands stuck through the gating, when I feel him cutting my shirt. He’s not said a word beyond that initial “excuse me Miss” that caught me. I pull and tug on the gate, trying to scream but only mewling sounds come out. And drool. Lots of drool. I feel the cool metal of scissors, hear the snic snic snic snic  as he works his way up my tee-shirt. He tugs and pulls until I feel cool air on bare skin.

He snickers, and I feel the pinch of clamps against my nipples, and the tug of chain.

“You’re gonna want to stay on your feet, cunt. If you fall over, you might just rip those nips right off.”

I hear the side door open then shut quickly.  He comes around and jumps into the driver’s seat. I feel like he’s been there, van running, for a long time, but no one has come to see what’s going on.

My heart is racing, as he drives off. As I try to get my balance, I feel the tug in my tits. He must have fastened the chain to the fencing in front of me. Hurts. Hurts.

He called me slut.

He had nipple clamps.

And a ball gag.

I shake my head. It’s impossible. There is no way he could have tracked me. Traced me. I don’t have my city listed. How. How could he?

No it couldn’t be the asshat. Yet in my racing heart, I knew the truth. He had, indeed, found me.

3.

The van drew to a stop, and I tried to hold myself up. My legs were trembling; we’d been driving for a long time. My nipples were throbbing, my jaw hurt like fuck-all, and there was a line of drool running from my mouth to the floor.

There was a final jerking of the van as he put it in park, then silence as he killed the motor. My heart was flying out of my chest, and panic was making it hard to breath. The side door opened, closed.

“Hello, fucktoy. I told you I knew where you were. It wasn’t nice of you to block me that way.”

I heard a click, and a small light went on behind me. His hands were on my hips.

“Love this easy access.”

He tugged down my skirt, then before I could even think about kicking him with my trembling, aching leg, he grabbed my ankle, threaded a rope around it, and tied it off to a bracket on the far side of the van, then my other ankle. I was spread eagle, but with a lot of slack, enough that I tried kicking. I only hit air.

Ignoring my struggles, He secured a wide strap around my hips, and pressed a button. In moments, my hips were lifted just a bit higher than my head, and I was suspended. He pulled the rope around my ankles until it was taut, and there I was, hanging in the air, legs splayed.

“Pretty as a picture. Remember, slut, I promised you pain. A great deal of pain.”

He came around to my side, and tugged the chain on my nipples. Tears of pain came instantly. They were already tender and hurting. Fiddling with the chain made the throb more relentless. I felt the pull on them grow more intense.

“Nips need a bit of stretching out,” He said, with a laugh. “These weights will keep you thinking about them. For a short while, anyway, until I give you something else to think about.”

I felt the heated burn from my nipples. It felt like licks of flame, starting at my nipples and fanning out. It was intense, deep, uncontrollable pain. I was screaming around the gag, which made him laugh.

“See? You needed this. Pain is good for cunts like you.”

He slapped my ass.

“Mmm, nice big ass. Just how I like ‘em. Meat to be beat, I always say.”

He slapped the same spot repeatedly; each blow seemed to be harder than the last. Each jolt made my tits bounce and bobble, hanging face down as I was, each jarring slap tugging on the chain holding my nipples. Instead of tiny licks of pain now, it was fire, pure white-hot fire lancing up through my tortured nipples, as I hung there, suspended.

Slap.

Jiggle.

Cry.

Snot, tears, drool splashed off of me with every blow. He kept hitting the same fucking spot.

“Fucking hurts, doesn’t it, cunt?” I lay, limply hanging, ignoring him, trying to not lose my mind. In a millisecond, his fist is in my hair, roughly pulling my head back and shaking it. My tits swing, the chain swings, the weights swing, and I scream. Try to scream.

“Answer me you fucking hole. Hurts. Don’t. It.”

He bobbles my head in a parody of agreement. His voice is mincing, mockingly high “Yes Master of Pain, it fucking hurts so much…” He reaches under me and grabs my right tit, squeezing it. He unbuckled the gag, lets it fall to the floor.

“Wanna hear you scream you fucking bitch cunt. SCREAM…” and his fingers clamp into the burning flesh of my tit, the clamp on my nipple folded over against the palm of his hand.

I want to disobey but I am unable to hold back the scream.

“We’re in my garage. Soundproofed.  Van is, too. Love the sounds you cunts make when I play. I told you I played hard, and I told you that you’d love it, too. Fucking slut. You bitches love this shit.”

He went back, and I heard something opening, shutting. Then a tap-tap along the back of my thigh.

“nothing like a little caning, eh, fuckhole?” The blows were rapid and sharp. Up one leg, and covering my ass. Across my back, even between my thighs. He kept hitting me, though fingers of his other hand began fondling my folds.

“Fucking slut. You’re cunt is wet. Soaked. You fucking little whore. You love your Sir. Right. Love him all you want, but you fucking crave what I’m giving you.”

His fingers slid in and out of my pussy, then split and pressed into my ass, too.  I hated that it felt good. I hated that my pussy grabbed his fucking, probing fingers.  The cane slapped against my ass and hips, all the while he fingered me.

His fingers left me, and he wiped the proof of my defeat across my ass. Leaning over me, he slapped the side of my tits with the cane. OH fuck that hurt. Gods it hurt. I was moaning, crying and begging for him to stop, please.

“yeah, right, you want me to stop?”

He threw the cane onto the floor. I felt him moving between my legs and I knew he was going to fuck me hard. His cock pressed against my pussy, and I heard the wet sound. He had to describe to me how it felt, to enter the hot wetness of my cunt. Had to laugh about my lying to him, to myself.

4.

He fucked me hard. His hips banged his cock deep inside of me, and I felt it coming, my own orgasm. I tried to push it away. I didn’t want it. Didn’t want to feel that feeling.

His hand reached under my floating body and pinched my clit, and I came unglued. He groaned as my cunt clamped down on his dick, pulsing and squeezing. His fingers kept squeezing me, making me squeak and wriggle to try to get away. It hurt, it felt so good, it was so sensitive. As the aftershocks died down, he grabbed my hips and began fucking me like a wild man, slamming into me harder than before.

My tits were rocking, the chain tugging against the floor with the force of every fucking stroke. I came again, screaming, back arching, nipples tightening. I felt the squirt, heard it splatter on the floor of the van.

He pulled out of my pussy, and pushed his way into my ass.

“Gonna fill your asshole with baby juice,” he groaned, pushing balls deep.

I have a love-hate relationship with getting my ass fucked. Sir is so good at it, it hurts and I cum like a crazy bitch. It feels good and I cum like a crazy bitch. There is something about getting my ass fucked that drives me wild. Even when I think I don’t want it…it turns me into a fucking wild whore.

This was nothing short of an invasion. He took. He used. His cock hammered into my asshole like the Allies swarming over Iwo Jima. I felt another orgasm building, and then his hand grabbed my hair again, pulling my head back like a bad pony.

“CUM,” he growled.

I came.

 

***********************************************************

dear readers. this story, this fantasy, has been building between nilla and Master for a week now. it remains to be finished…..

don’t

she struggled against the ropes.

don’t

she froze a moment at the sound of his voice, then renewed the frantic pull and tug

don’t

once more she ceased her movement. hard to say where the voice came from. above, behind? all was dark behind the mask that covered her head. She could breath, barely. The holes under her nostrils were small,  and she sucked in deep draughts of air.

she couldn’t exhale them through her mouth. the slick latex covered her lips completely, showing their curve, but with no gap there was no place for the expired air to go.

she breathed out her nose. remembered the yoga lessons she’d had years ago, in and out in equal measure, via the nose.

she couldn’t stop the fresh surge of panic. he’d said he would only keep her in here for a short time. she struggled again, feeling her body moving, but not touching anything.

don’t

His voice was everywhere and nowhere. He’d promised to be here, to not leave her in this empty darkness. her knees were tied, she was on her side, her feet fluttered uselessly. covered and bound she could make no sounds but panicked sqeeks, and even those were muffled.

she counted in her head to 10.

she counted in her head to 20.

how many times had he spoken. once. twice.

three times.

He’d fucking promised to not keep her here to guide her through her panic. where the fuck was He? the three strikes rule was stupid.

stupid.

she screamed as she kicked and writhed and wriggled. something tickled along her exposed breast, zapping her right nipple painfully.

as she spun sightlessly through the air, he held out the violet wand, gently touching exposed flesh. Soon she would stop her struggles, and the game would end.

but for now she would struggle, and feel the caress of pain.

No!

I stood and stared at Him, a bit aghast at my temerity.

What the fuck was I thinking, shouting at Him? Um, thinking about protecting myself.  He’s looking at me with that look. The scary look. Oh, gods I am so totally fucked.

His eyebrow popped up.

Double fuck.

I almost want to giggle, I’m so nervous. I shift from foot to foot, doing the ‘oh shit’ dance.

“Is ‘no’  your safeword?” His tone is reasonable, silky. Geezus He’s really pissed.

I shake my head from side to side. I feel tears start to gather in my eyes, but I blink them away.

“Is it?” His voice lashes out like a whip, and I whimper. Yes, I fucking did, I whimpered.

“B-b-but..” I stumble through my thoughts. He listens to me, and I can’t tell if it makes Him more or less annoyed with me.

“Did you not promise to do what I asked of you, all that I asked of you? Yes? I see.”

I am nodding my head like a puppet out of control.

“Then why did that word come out of you mouth? My sub, my slut, my whore, she does not tell me no. She may speak respectfully from her knees, she may beg, she may use her safeword. But ‘no’ does not exist in my slut’s vocabulary. Perhaps …” He pauses, looking at me speculatively.

“Oh please, Master, don’t  say it, I beg of you!” Sinking to the floor, I wrap my arms around his legs, look imploringly up at him. I can’t stand for him to think I am not willing to be fully, completely his.

Our eyes lock. Is this war? I’m praying for him to capitulate, to take it all back. Yet I know him, I fucking know he’s going to ask me if I am still his slut. And I am, I am…just…I never thought he’d go to this extreme.

Yet the need to please him curdles my stomach.

“It will hurt,” I whisper against his knees.

“Damn straight.”

I look up at him, sure that now I’m a mess, tears and mascara.

“Either you will capitulate, or you will go. It’s as simple as that. You are my slut, my property, or you are not. I cannot, will not make it any more complicated than that. I want my property the way I want it. You have no more right to say ‘no’ to my decision, than you would should I decide to shave you bald, or paint my front door sky-blue-pink.”

There was impatience here. Do it and get the fuck on with it. That implacable will of his, bumping hard against my stubbornness.

“Get up.”

Slowly I rise, tilt my head to look at him.

“Stay and comply. Or go.”

We look at each other.

I blink first.

I walk to the cross and wait for Him to acknowledge my defeat. He buckles my wrists and ankles, and fastens a restraint around my waist, “just in case.”

That sends a frisson of fear right through me.

“You may start now,” He speaks to the man who has waited patiently through this exchange. The man who will pierce my nipples, then tattoo the word ‘slut‘ across the top of my pussy.

Party

They met for the first time during the party. He’d mentioned it during their weekly phone call, since they had yet to meet in real life. His voice was thick and sexy, with a hint of mean that just made her tingle in all the right places.

He’d given her little tasks to accomplish in the three weeks that they’d been playing; fuck herself at work with a cucumber, then eat it with her lunch salad had been the latest ‘dirty task’.  Last week He’d had her put pegs on her nipples, then put her tits on the copier and hit ‘print’. Once the picture came out, and while still pegged, she took  a picture of the photocopy with her cell, and sent it to him. It was a full hour later that he had sent the text, allowing her to remove the pins. She’d had to do it there in her cubicle, sliding her fingers into her bra, unclasping the biting pegs from her burning nipples, hoping someone didn’t pop in just as she slid the clothespin out of her shirt.  Her heart raced when she heard footsteps, her hand snugged deep in her left cup, which had added another layer of fear/dread/excitement to the task, but they had walked on past without stopping.

Each nasty kinky task had turned her on. Hard to say whether it was the fear of getting caught, the degrading things he had her do, or what. But he was a real asshole, and she loved that he treated her so roughly.

******************

He saw her come into the club. Sweet little fucktard had taken him up on it! Mentally he rubbed his hands together.  Weeks of hard work and he was finally gonna score. He walked around the bar, tapping shoulders, nodding towards his slut as she made her way to the bar to order the glass of white wine He’d commanded of her.

*******************

He sidled up to her at the bar, laying his hand against her ass and poking her dress into her asscrack.

“Don’t turn around. You know what I want, dontcha, you fucking cunt?”

She swallowed hard. She did know, He had told her in his cruel way. He was going to fuck her here, during the party. There were lots of different people here; this was a private event for the D/s community. She’d never seen so many corsets and fishnets gathered in one place in her life. She tried not to gawk, didn’t want her newness showing. She was nervous. Scared. Yet her Dom would take care of her. He’d promised to show her a fucking good time. She wanted to turn, wanted to see her Dom. Yet just having his hands on her was so good.

So very good.

Her wine appeared before her, as the bartender gave her a knowing wink. She slid a ten dollar bill across the bar, nervously licking her lips. He sauntered off with it, and she wondered if he’d be back with change or assumed that she normally paid that much for a glass of wine.

Her Dom’s breath was hot against her ear, his breath smelling like coffee. His fingers poked into her asscrack.

“You will be a good girl for me tonight, won’t you? You even dressed just as I told you to. Good girl.”

The praise warming her, making her clit thump. He leaned against her, and emptied a capsule into her wine glass, stirring it with his finger.

“Drink it.” His voice was rough, demanding.

She swallowed nervously, her throat closing in fear.

“I don’t…do …drugs…” she whispered.

“It will ..relax you. It’s not bad for you.”

She wanted to look at him, but she’d been warned not to. His hand lifted the hem of her dress, baring her ass. Fingers pinched along her crack, making her jump with every snick of fingernails against flesh.

“Remember your promise to be obedient.”

There was an implied threat there. He’d told her previously that he demanded obedience from his sluts, that he didn’t fuck around with girls who weren’t committed to serving with their full effort. He demanded, expected, perfect obedience to his wishes, first time, every time.

She lifted the glass and drank. When she would have lowered it to the bar, his finger under the base held it pressed to her lips. Swallowing down her fear, she finished the wine.

********************************************

She felt fine.

Finer than fine. She felt licks of fire on her skin. She was achingly aware, alive, throbbing with a raw need. Her clitoris felt like it had swollen, a more feminine version of a penis, aching with sex-need. Her pussy oozed a continuous stream of juice.

Her head lolled back, and she looked at him for the first time. His hand slapped her cheek, hard enough to make her head wobble. She giggled. He slapped her again, then kissed her, hard. His teeth bit into her bottom lip, making her moan.

It hurt.

The ache in her lip pulsed with an echo between her legs. His fingers twisted into her hair, holding her immobile. Hands were on her tits. Her shirtdress was open, her bra pulled up, baring her tits. Hands molded each one, then pinched her nipples. She felt a slap on her right tit, while her left was squeezed tightly.

How was that possible, her half-sleeping brain mused. His hand was in her hair, and slapping her cheek. How could they be on her tits, too?

There was a snap of elastic against her tit. And a tugging. When he finally released her hair, she looked down. A dark-skinned hand was sliding thick elastic bands over her swelling tit. There were already 5 or more in place, she could see the different colors of bands. The ache was something she had never felt before. Her entire breast hurt.  There was a hand snaking between her legs, rubbing her slit through her panties.

“Take them off.”

Rising, obedient, she bent to shimmy out of the panties. Hands grabbed her head, and a thick cock pressed against her lips.

“suck it, cunt!” The voice was gruff. Was it His? Someone else’s? She had almost no experience with fellatio. Her last boyfriend had a very low sex-drive, and it was hard to even get him to fuck her occasionally.

“I..” she began, but her open mouth was quickly filled. The taste was …different. The head was smooth and round and very big. She wanted to pull away, to explain that she couldn’t fit it all in her mouth, but he kept pressing deeper into her mouth.

When he hit the back of her throat, she panicked. Trying to press him out with her tongue, she gagged. His hands held her head like a melon, pulling her tight onto his cock.

Bent in half, hands grasping her panties, she tried to pull away, but it was impossible. There were hands on her hips, the feeling of a second cock pushing into her pussy. The sounds of a man’s heartfelt groan as he sank, balls deep, into her hot wet hole.

Her tit throbbed. As she was double-stuffed, double fucked, she caught glimpses of it bobbing. It was fat and round and purpled. Her nipple was nearly black.  There was a silver clamp on it that she didn’t remember even being applied.

The cock slipped down her throat. For a moment it felt like she was going to die, but her breath snuck up and out her nose. She realized she wouldn’t expire from lack of oxygen, if she kept breathing through her nose. Relaxing, she felt the cock sink deeper into her throat.

“My turn.”

That husky voice belonged to a woman! Yet she felt the unmistakable press of a cock against her pussy. It was large, yet inch by inch she felt herself impaled with it.

The sensations were overwhelming. Her throat began to ache from being rubbed over and again by the dick working there, while her pussy felt stretched around the shaft now plunging in and out of it.

“You’re such a dirty slut, aren’t you?”

Her Dom’s voice was at her ear.

“Dirty girl, such a dirty whore. Fucked in the mouth, fucked in the pussy.”

His words made her blush, and wet. The orgasm hit her without warning, as her back arched and her belly clamped hard on the rod stuffing her. The taste of semen filled her mouth, yet before she could even lick her lips of the dribble, another cock was stuffed in.

She was ordered to suck it good, and it wasn’t long before he too ejaculated into her mouth.

“Give me those.” It was the voice of her Dom again. “Going to fill you up, slut. Just like you need. Just like you crave.”

There was a push, a pop, another push. Her asshole gave way to bead after bead.

She gasped, the sensation was surreal. The beads got larger, then larger still.

“Can’t…” she gasped hoarsely.

“You sure as fuck can and will.” It was the voice of the woman fucking her pussy. She felt the last painful ‘pop’ as the largest bead was shoved into her rectum. She was full. So painfully, awesomely full. It hurt, hurt, so good, so bad.

“Stand her up,” commanded the woman behind her. Her pussy was filled with the Domme’s cock. Her tit throbbed. It was swollen like a giant, fat Concord grape.

Her arms were pulled up and behind the Domme’s head, and she felt cuffs tighten around her wrists. Her tits thrust out, her asshole pounded to a jungle beat, and she felt her juices oozing past the fat dildo buried in her cunt and slide fluidly down her thighs.

The slap of the crop brought her up short. Her tit screamed. He’d hit the tortured one, the pain an added escalation. A flurry of blows, so fast that her eyes couldn’t follow them, then moments later, pain. The welts rose with the pain, red lines crisscrossing her tits.

A second crop slapped at her upper thighs.  The pain was everywhere, overwhelming. She was dizzy with it, with the wanton cravings boiling in her blood. Pressing back against the woman holding her she felt the shaft inside her press against a spot. Oh gods!

A wiggle and another flood of sensations.

“Fucking cunt is getting herself off.” The Domme laughed. “Go ahead whore, jack your pussy off on my cock.”

The slapping of the crops ceased for a moment as she hung, gasping, on the Domme’s tool. The press of a knife against her tit had her quaking in fear, but the snapping of the elastics were more painful than that blade.

The sudden rushing of blood through her swollen tit would have driven her to her knees had she not been impaled by the Domme. Her mouth opened in a wordless yelp, a thin squeal of pain breaking forth. Her head fell back against the Mistress’ shoulder, as her attention was captured by the incredible pain of her tit.

A sharp snap of a crop against the clamp on her nipple made her cry out loudly.

“Aaah, the cunt wakens,” said a voice. There were more slaps, pussy, belly thighs again. Her tits. Her nipples. The clamps jiggled, the left one popping off.

That hurt more than the cropping, when it snapped off her flesh, little rubber teeth still biting into her sensitize nub as it slid away, left to hang by the chain. Her right nipple began to burn; with every slash to her belly and thighs, the chain was smacked, adding to the pull and tug of the remaining clamp.

And then it was over. The crops were put away, and she was pulled across the room by her cuffed wrists. Her hands were fastened over her head, a pillow under her neck, when a pair of thighs nestled to each side of her head. Knees pressed against her hair, fanned there, now pulled painfully. The tips of sharply pointed stiletto toes pressed into each shoulder, as a wet pussy began to cover her face.

“My turn, slut. Do me, do me good.”

Oh my god. She was going to eat the pussy of the Domme? There was no way to refuse, to fight. Her words were silenced by the wet folds of flesh pressed against her mouth; her nose was bumped as the Mistress began humping her mouth.

“Lick me, you fucking cunt!” She felt the awful pinch of long nails against her tit and realized that the Mistress had her tit grasped tightly in her hand. Her thumbnail pressed against the base of her nipple making her gasp. She tasted pussy juice, and began to lick. There was moaning above her, and squirming against her lips as she worked.

She yelped against those wet folds as the beads were pulled out of her ass slowly.

pop

yelp

pop

yelp

pop

yelp

until the last slid free from her asshole.  There was a feeling of intense relief as her rectum was finally emptied.

“All nice and loose now.”

“Hope not too loose.”

Hands against her hips. Pressing against her anus. Pressing against her pussylips. Shoulders aching from being stretched. A burning ache in her ass, stretched to widely. No room in her pussy for the fullness pressing there.

Her mouth opened, her body struggling for freedom, at last, freedom from the assault on all of her straining holes. The scream boiled up, pouring into the splayed lips of the pussy grinding against her mouth.

“Mmmmmmmm” from the Domme who ground down, harder. “That’s it fucktoy, lick my pussy clean.”

“Tight.” This growled from her Dom, buried to the balls in her ass.

“Fuckin’ Shit is hotttt,” moaned the unseen man in her cunt. She grunted, straining to move…too much, too much to bear.

****************************

She woke slowly. Her body hurt, everywhere. She leaned up on one elbow, reaching for the light. She wasn’t on her bed. Blinking she tried to orient herself.

Rug.

The rug was raspy against her hip. Slowly she recognized her living room. There was a foul taste in her mouth; her body smelled equally foul.  Her anus throbbed in time to her heartbeat, and her throat was raw when she tried to swallow.

What the fuck had happened to her?

***************************

A hot shower helped.

She’d seen the crisscrossed lines on her breasts, her ass, as she turned the water on hot. Her face was coated with dry, white stick-um.

Cum.

Her belly, thighs, even her feet were riddled with the dry and itchy spots. She had no memory of where she had been, or how she’d gotten home, let alone waking, naked, on her living room floor.

After her shower, she brewed a cup of tea, rubbing the nagging headache at the base of her skull. Two aspirin later, the edge of that dulled to manageable.

She found her phone, saw her calls record had been deleted. Her texts were the same. Her phone was blank.

Her Dom.

She had gone to meet him…somewhere. She forgot where, actually. Which was strange since she had a good memory for driving places. She booted up her computer while making yet another cuppa, hoping it would push off her lethargy.

His number was in his third email, she remembered that.

She dialed.

I’m sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer in service.

******************************************************

This is longer than any other dark fantasy…there’s no moral to it, just a piece of jack-off fiction…nilla is such a horny girl …

Down

His fist is in my hair so tight i feel it straining as if it will all be pulled out. Trying not to cry is useless. He wants that, likes that. And the tears will come whether i try to hold them back or not.

my head is bent back, staring up at Him as He looks at me. Sizing me up to see what will break me tonight. Turn me from a wife, mother, cook and into a wanton, ravening whore for him.

or maybe he only wants holes. just a place to jam his cock, and succor release of his seeds.

Bent, and awkward, He shoves me toward the bed. Whanging my shins on the metal frame, i can’t wince since his hold on my hair is pulling my eyes taut. Fuck! i yelp it.

His hand lashes out, fast and lethal against my bare cheek. More tears flow. He is the master, the owner, the taker, the user. i am a slave, a toy, a thing.

A thing gets used.

Sometimes hard. Harder than hard. My pleasures are not needed, not worried over. Tonight it won’t matter how much it hurts.

Tomorrow that will be a pleasant memory for me. But for the now, it is small solace.

Face into the bed, shins against the cold metal frame, ass up, he finally releases my hair. The strands that stick to his sweaty palm are callously pulled out of my head and stick to his hand.

His cock is thick and dripping with his need; i feel it,  the moist and turgid head of it between my thighs as he hip-thrusts against me, jockeying for the right angle. His hands slap at my hips, wiggling me exactly where he wants my hole to be.  Stupidly, i rise up to adjust myself for him.

His hand slaps the back of my head.

“Down.”

i flop back to the mattress. i am a thing. a tool. A release valve.

No talking, no sharing of rough days at work or aggravating family. Just a hole.

and a dick.

and all the time He needs.

Pledge

“hold her!”

“Fuck! the cunt just tried to kick me…”

Slaps and grunts filled the air, whimpers choked down to silent pantings, as legs and arms were held, a mouth gagged to silence.

“yeah, that’s good. Fuckin’ whore…”

“yeah, turn it on…perfect”

whimpering through the gag as something hummed against her splayed thighs, resting hard against her clit.

“best make your mind up, you are gonna cum.”

“and cum” chimed another voice

“and cum some more!” laughed another.

Tortured, her clit throbbing, she struggled. Tears passed unseen from eyes to hair-line. Occasionally she would try to fight, to struggle against all the hands that held her tight.

Sheened with sweat, she collapsed into a shaking huddle.

“Clamp those nips!”

The sharp bite of a clothes pin on her left nipple roused her and made her struggle again, again to no avail.

“How many?”

“Use the whole fucking bag! She’s got big tits…”

The sound of raucous laughter battered her. The orgasm hit hard. She shrieked, arching.

The toy resting on her clit never moved.

“Good slut. Now another..”

Hurt so much.

Another orgasm rippled through her body, as clothes pins were pinched onto her left tit, then her right.

“And now, to help you out….no virgins allowed, you know.”

She felt the pressure of something pressing against her pussylips. Pressing through and into her defenseless body. In and out it sawed, filling and emptying her.

Her clit throbbed with pain, with the intense aftermath of sensation after two orgasms.

“C’mon whore, you’ve not even started to pleasure us yet…we want to see your goo…”

Cheers and jeers.

Hands touching her everywhere, hands pulling off the pins, attaching them in new places. Pain and pleasure whirled in a blender of sensations.

Another orgasm tore through her, more intense than the last.

“Almost ready to start your pledge drive, slut. Gotta room full of pussy for you to service…”

she wondered why she’d ever joined the sorority.

Garter

He slid the garter further up her leg, past the wide part of her thigh. It rested just below the fold where her leg met her folds.

“I selected the pink because it reminded me of the color of your inner lips. Succulent and fresh, and so female.”

She wriggled but could not move much. Nor could she speak, with the cock gag He’d shoved into her mouth.

He slid the garter up her right leg to match the left.

He rose from the bed and fetched a grocery bag. With a grin, He pulled the bag of clothes pins from within. In seconds it was opened.

“Brand new, fresh, tight pegs,” He said, examining one closely. He opened and closed it a few times, as if He had never seen one before. He pinched his fingertip with it.

“There is something else that will fit in here,” He said. He looked down at her, beautiful in her vulnerability.  Leaning forward, He affixed a clip to her right nipple. Her eyes closed in a wince that was part pleasure, part pain.

He took another peg from the bag. He attached that an inch away from the peg on her nipple. Three more pegs, one for each of the directions, He said, encircled her nipple. She was tossing her head from side to side now. The pressure on her nipple was fierce, now that there was no slack skin.

He flicked the peg on her nipple, watching her arch into the pain.

“Lovely,” He said, “Like a little tit flower.”

She scowled at Him.

“And speaking of flowers, let’s have a look at your ‘flower of womanhood’,” He joked. He loved to tease her about her love of romance novels. She grunted at him behind the cock gag, but He just slapped her thigh and grinned at her helplessness.

“Sucks to be you, little one!”

He threw back His head and laughed. She’d thrown that very quote at Him just the other day on the phone. Payback was not a bitch, but a Dom with a wide sadistic streak, He mused.

“Now, let’s see…” And He peered between her spread legs. Taking another peg from the bag, He pulled one lip open, and attached the clip to it.

She made a lot of noise at that. Oh, goodie!

He put three more pegs on that same lip.

“Hmmm, it doesn’t look right. I think it needs balance.” Nodding to Himself, he applied four pegs to the other lip of her pussy. She was wriggling her ass on the bed, but He resolved that by swinging up and sitting on her pelvis, leaning forward to snap them on.

“You know, little one….this is a very pretty sight, your cunt covered in pegs like this. I think I can fit a few more on here. I know you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He never even turned around to look at her shaking her head ‘no’.

“But it sure might hurt my cock to fuck you with all these dangerous pegs stuck on here.  Hmmmm….wait…I have an idea.”

He lifted the garter away from her inner thigh and tucked the first peg under it.

“Bingo!” He cheered. In moments he had every peg on her left lip tucked under the garter, pulling her pussy open.  He repeated the action on the other side. He slid off of her, off of the bed, and came around to view His handiwork.

“Lovely. Simply obscenely lovely. Your cunt is splayed wide open, slut.”

He took the peg bag and put it on the chair. She watched him fish something out of His jacket pocket. He popped the cap off the permanent marker. Across the top of her pussy He wrote:

OPEN FOR BUSINESS

in His impeccable handwriting. Putting the marker away, He took out His phone, and snapped a few pictures. She watched while He pecked something out on the tiny keyboard.

He looked up at her with a smile that made her heart flip over in her chest. Before He could speak, the phone chimed. He glanced at the message there.

“Nice,” He said, His smile growing wider.

“Company’s comin’…”