The Babysitter

The job at the pizza parlor had fallen through, mostly, she supposed, because she didn’t have size 44DDD tits like the other girl who’d interviewed with her. Still, if she hadn’t gone for the interview, she might not have seen the sign outside the ladies room on the public notice board there for “Babysitting, Saturday Nights”.

She rang the bell. This was her second ‘interview’, the first having been over the phone with Mr. and Mrs. Wendell. The door opened before she could build up too many nerves. The woman who answered the door was pretty. Mid-30’s, brunette, classy up-do and great make up.

“You must be Marci, right?”

“Yes,” she replied, hoping that her nerves didn’t make her sound all squeaky, since Mrs. Wendell had a smooth, honeyed voice.

“Right this way, honey,” Mrs. W said, gesturing towards an arched doorway. “Please, call me Lou. That Mrs. Wendell makes me feel positively ancient!” She let out a tiny giggle.

“Now, Marci, honey, you have your license, right? Andy will take a copy just for safety sake, you understand.” She lead the way into and through a beautiful solarium. Marci was amazed at the size of the house. She was going to need a map!

“You’re up at the college?” At Marci’s nod, she continued.

“Studying general business, right? Well, we’ll discuss all the business end of things in a few minutes then. Just know that you’ll be well compensated…Mr. Wendell is very fair and generous with all of our employees.”

“Andy honey, Marci is here.” She called, as they went down a short run of steps into a hallway. A few doors lined the right side while on the left hung some wonderful misty art pictures.”

The hall opened into a dimly lit room. There was a flickering light ahead and she could see there was a giant-screen tv.

“Men and their tv’s, right?” Lou giggled.

“Wow,” said Marci, totally dazzled. A hand came up from behind her and she would have yelped but for the rag over her face.

“A little nap, sweetheart,” she heard as she faded into black.


She woke, confused. The light was dim.  A cool breeze wafted across her body raising her nipples. There was something odd about it, but she felt wispy and dazed. A tingle ran from between her legs, and she realized it was a tongue, warm and wet, lapping at her open pussy.  Lifting her head, she could see the top of an updo…

“Lou?” she said, her voice a faint rasp.

“Lou is warming up your sweet cunt for me.”

The voice, deep and resonant, came from behind her. Tilting her head back, she saw a man, his face in shadows. A thick, enormous cock jutted from his belly.  It was unlike any of the other cocks she’d ever seen before. All two of them.

“I know, you’re a bit confused by all of this. We’ll help you figure it out as we go on.”

He stretched out his hand. He held a remote. With a single click the enormous screen at the front of the room turned on. A girl was there arms and legs secured spread-eagle, laying on a mattress with a woman’s head between her legs. A man stood near her head stroking his cock.

The girl was her. 

“We film all our scenes, Marci, but just for our own enjoyment. In the future, I’ll play some of your tapes so that you can appreciate what’s been happening. It’s beautiful to watch people sexing with each other, fucking and enjoying our bodies.

He moved beside her, then straddled her. The tip of the enormous dick almost touched her lips.

“I want you to meet your “baby”, the “child” you’ll be taking care of this evening. My wife and I prefer to stay in, and you’ll stay in with us.”

She wanted to shake her head no. This could not be happening. It was too far-fetched. It was stuff you read about or heard in the paper, but it wasn’t real. It wasn’t her. The girl on the screen tossed her head, and the cock rubbed her lips.

“Open for daddy. If you think about biting or using your teeth, I’ll have to put an unpleasant gag in your mouth. You won’t like it at all, but I’ll still fuck your throat.”

She had only given head once and had not enjoyed the experience. And Danny had been far less endowed.

“Yes, I know, you’re going to gag on it. That’s okay. I like when that happens. You might even puke. That’s okay too.”

He crawled higher up, until his ass was sitting on her tits.

“I can feel your nipples on my cheeks. They’re so fucking hard they feel like little cleats!”

He brushed the slightly oozing head over her lips. Fearful of the gag, she parted her mouth a small bit. It was all the invitation he needed, and he pushed firmly into her. She felt the glide of velvety-soft skin over her tongue, then gagged when he kept pressing forward, hitting her uvula and pressing onward. Her lips moved to say “no” and he moaned.

“yeah, like that little girl, fuuuuck,”

He pulled back, then eased forward again, just as his wife sucked Marci’s clit between her teeth. Her hips arched at the sensation, her mouth opened wide, and he slid hard and fast to the back of her throat.

She was torn by sensations, pain, pleasure, gagging, lack of air, panic, and the deep pull from inside her belly that presaged her orgasm.

He pulled out, slapping her cheeks with his rigid shaft.

“Good girl, I’m nice and hard now.”

He slid down her body, pushing his wife away with his ass. Her mouth became busy at his anus as his cock lined up with Marci’s cunt.

“So wet,” he sighed softly, as he began to sheath himself in her. She could hear his wife slurping until he’d moved forward too far for her lapping mouth to reach.

“Put your finger in her ass,” he directed her.

Marci watched the screen as his buttocks moved deeper into the girl spread on the floor, and the brunette rose to her knees between his legs, fishing under him. She saw the woman smile, even as she felt something pressing against her anus. Her cunt was stretched, albeit slowly, as Mr. W eased his thickness into her, and the intrusion of a finger into her bum made her eyes widen with shock.

“nooo,” she moaned, “I can’t do that…”

“Shhh,” he whispered, “Of course you can,” and he leaned down and kissed her,  sucking her moans into his mouth. “You’re so fucking delicious,” he said softly, kissing her again as she cried out.

“Three,” said his wife triumphantly.

“Good girl,” he said, “stretch her out and fuck her good with your talented fingers.” He bent forward, but rather than kissing her, he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his lips.

So many sensations it was impossible to separate them all. He fucked slowly into her, slowly out, while his wife diddled her asshole. And then he bit her nipple, hard. She arched, and came, squirting.

“Goooood girl, cum all over my cock, yesssss,” he encouraged her, picking up the rhythm. “You like the pain, yes.”

His hips began to move faster, pressing himself harder and deeper into her. He’d yet to bottom out in her sweet cunny. He enjoyed the sensation of Lou’s fingers in the girls ass, the way they stroked his shaft as she wiggled and rotated them. The sweet babe was moaning and tossing her head now, between the riot in her ass, his renewed assault on her tit, and his pumping cock.

She screamed as he hit her cervix hard, then came again, harder than the first time. He didn’t give her a break or breather, just pressed through the welter of sensitivity, causing her to wimper and moan more. Her asshole ached, her nipple was throbbing from the ravages of his teeth and hands, and she was going to orgasm again.

He was pounding into her, grunting with the effort.

“FOUR,” his wife cheered, popping yet another finger into the tight confines of the girls ass.

His fingers gripped her tits as handles as he pumped furiously.


He didn’t finish, his cock draining his balls deep into her belly, string after string of salty sperm. Rolling away, he watched as Lou slipped up, and began slurping the juices from the swollen, leaking pussy he’d just abused so delightfully. He noted that Lou’s fingers were still buried in the babysitters asshole, but decided to not make an issue of it. Crawling up to her mouth, he presented her with his cock.

“Clean it up now, girl. That’s what babysitters to, and this is your baby. Until I grow one in your belly, of course. Suck it gently, that’s it.”

He began to stiffen as she moaned around his shaft. His wife was making her cum again, the naughty thing.  He pulled out, then moved to unfasten the cuffs that held their new babysitter in place.

He turned her on her belly, his wife’s tongue still darting between those puffy lips, her eyes glazed, cum on her cheeks and forehead. She was a beautiful mess already and the night was so young.

He tucked her knees up, raising her ass, then secured the ties to hold her. She was too sex-dazed to struggle, he noted. Lou had fingers in her cunt, in her ass, licking between and around both holes. The girls bottom wagged around. Trying to get away, or trying to get more, it was hard to tell.

He slapped Lou on the ass.


With a pout, she pulled her hands away.

“I’m going to hurt your ass when I rape it. I will not be gentle like I was on your cunt.”

The words, rough and raw, made the girls bottom tighten, made her quiver, but only a low moan came from her lips. His cockhead slipped easily into her ass, but her moan grew louder.

“I know,” he crooned. He pounded into her, savaging her butthole. She whimpered, she moaned, and she squirted again; he felt the splash of it on his knees as he punched her back door, his cock like a battering ram against her tender flesh. It didn’t take long for her whimpers to become tears, for her to struggle so sexily against the assault. Every sound, every tear made him harder.

“Yesssss,” he groaned at last, pumping her bowels with his jizz.

He pulled away, then lay on his side beside her, chest heaving.  The only sounds were from her soft weeping, then the “fffwpt, fffwpt” of Lou’s tongue lapping at the girls ass as she scavenged for his seed.


They walked her to the door after midnight. She was dazed, sore, drained.

“So, next Saturday, same time?” said Lou hopefully, as Andy pulled several bills from his wallet. He handed them to her. She lifted her hands.

“I can’t…that makes me….you know…a whore.”

“You are a whore. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be compensated for your time. Don’t think of it as being paid for sex…we do that for enjoyment. I’m paying you for the time you spent in our home, that’s all.”

She took the bills, and headed to her car.

“You didn’t say if you could make it next week?”

Lou’s face was tragically needy. She fingered the bills in her pocket. Babysitting, her ass. Indeed, her ass. She looked back at Lou.

“At six, right?”

Lou smiled.


Job With Benefits

“I watch you do that every night. Week after week. It never fails to make me hard as a rock.”

She startled, jumping awkwardly, her head in line with the toilet as she scrubbed around the base. A hand pressed upon the back of her scalp, pressing firmly downward.

“Unless you want your face in here, stay exactly as you are.”

A tone of authority, one she was helpless to disobey. She was the janitor but she could have disobeyed. Could have. But wouldn’t. Wanted to keep her job here at Wharten Enterprises. The pay was really good, much better than the fast food restaurant where she’d worked before, with the added benefit of not reeking of hot oil and stale burgers.

“Lift up your ass and spread your legs. Yes, just like that. Hands on the bowl, head down though, girl. Head down.”

The heat of humiliation burned through her. Red stained her cheeks, a combination of the odd angle and embarrassment. Hands reached up inside her skort, rubbed over her bum, poked at her anus.


Her eyes closed. She offered a brief, fruitless prayer. Don’t. Not my ass, please.

His finger probed deeper, breaking the tight coil of muscle.

“That’d feel better with lube. But fuck you’re tight. And hot. I can feel how hot your cunt is, too.”

She wanted to speak up. Of course she was hot! She’d been cleaning inside a warm building for well over an hour. What the fuck did he think happened to a human body when it was walking and scrubbing and dumping trash? It got hot. Especially those areas covered with multiple layers of fabric.

The gasp slipped out, echoed in the bowl of the toilet. His fingers were inside her. Inside her pussy. He diddled them around, like a butterfly trapped in syrup, then shoved them deep, withdrew, shoved again.

“That’s enough foreplay,” he said. She heard the distinctive pzzzzzzz  of a moving zipper, the tinny clink of a belt being unhitched, the fabric hiss of that belt being removed. His pants slid to his knees with a soft whisper.

He leaned away from her, turned on the hot and cold faucets, then reached around her and flushed the toilet. The noise was deafening, and her ponytail was all but trailing in the water now.

The roiling sounds of water drowned out the first hard smack of the belt on her denim-clad bottom. She moaned.

“Silent! Another sound from you and your head goes in.”

Again the belt struck her ass; she hissed in a breath and held it tightly, letting it hiss out around her teeth with the next blow. The whimper spilled out when he hit the same spot for the third time. Her face was pushed deep into the bowl. Thankful that at least she’d cleaned it first, the shock of the cold water still filling the white porcelain made her yelp. Underwater. He shook her head in the water, the pulled her up by the ponytail.

His voice was a whispered whip of sound.

I said silent. I meant silent. Shut the fuck up or your head will stay there until I’m done warming up your fucking ass.”

She wanted to tell him it was quite warm enough already, but he’d already warned her. She bit her lip, wincing as the belt fell across her buttocks. The denim pressed hard, the heat from the force of the strikes making her think she was not only beyond warm, her ass was on fire!

He dunked her once more before he was done beating her soundly, and she only knew he was done because he turned off the faucets. Hands tugged the crotch of the skort and her panties to one side. His cock jabbed up into her cunt. It was like an offering, she thought, her ass up in the air. She wiggled her hips, trying to move away, but his hands reached under her and grabbed fistfuls of her tits, squeezing so hard she thought her nipples would explode. It fucking hurt. Almost as much as his cock ramming up her pussy did. It was a rough, violent, taking of her body. She wasn’t a janitor or a woman or a mother or a part-time cook. She was a  hole. Something to be used to slake someone’s need to fuck.

His need to fuck.

She’d seen him watching her. She understood that sort of look. Ignoring it only fueled his fantasy of using her, she knew that now. She moaned as his thrusts went full-deep into her. Pleasure warred with pain now, and she was pissed that he was turning her on, lighting up one of her fevered fantasies. How fucking dare he??

She squirted all over his legs. He laughed, called her a fucking whore, called her a greedy fuck-loving cunt. Told her she wanted to be used. Wanted to be raped. Wanted him to hurt her. His cock filled her, his jizz pumped into her as he laughed cruelly. Reaching into her kit beside the toilet, he grabbed a hunk of her rubber gloves. Wadding them up, he shoved them up into her hole.

“Keep that good sauce up there inside you while you work tonight,” he said. “It’ll remind you of the good time you had up here on the third floor. Enjoy.”

Stepping away, he pulled up his pants, threaded his belt into the loops.

“You stay there for a few minutes. Got it? Don’t want another swirly, do you girly?” He laughed at his own joke, zipping up his pants. Reaching under her again, he pinched her tits.

“Next time, I’m going to cum all over them.”

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Shaking with wet, with the shock of the hard rude fucking, tender with the wad of gloves balled up inside her pussy, she ran her hands over her breasts, feeling the hard nuggets of her nipples. Next time?

Next time.

She really did like the sound of that, a job with benefits.

Slut TV

She woke to the thrumming vibrations against her pussy. 


Where the fuck was she? What the…a moan came from within her. She was going to cum, and 

it was dark and she was cold but she was hot and her pussy was shaking and cumming and her head 

curled backwards and her back arched

the spray of girl juices jetting out of her cunt wetting her thighs.

Where was she what was happening omg it hurt 

so sensitive

oh oh oh


“That’s a good girly girl. Another orgasm for the camera…There you have it, my sick pervies. That’s 8 orgasms for the wicked Dom in Nebraska. Who’s putting their money up for the next?”

The big vibe turned off. The girl on the bed collapsed, fainted or fast fallen into sleep.  He watched the monitor on the computer, scrolling through the perverted comments, the vicious commentary.

“Nosir, no mutilation allowed,” he muttered. Though he scowled,  he spoke towards the camera which didn’t face him, but the supine figure on the bed. Her chest rose regularly.


“Folks, we’re here to get perverted fun out of our ‘guest’….I’m looking for more paying customers here, willing to pay to make it happen.”

There was a pause, and a sudden burst of activity.

“We have a duel here. Anal intrusion with the big butt plug versus another 8 orgasms. Mr. Nebraska is certainly getting his rocks off tonight, aren’t you? The poor gal is wore out from the other 8 an hour ago, and this recent round. Sure you …” He paused, blinked at the amount suddenly deposited into the sex account.

“Well, I guess you do then.”

Careful to keep his back to the camera, he moved the big vibe against her cunt, slapped it first to wake her.

“More fun and games, girlie,” he said as he flicked it on, then moved out of the screenshot.”Oh, I see he’s upped the ante now,” he spoke, moving around the room. There was the unmistakable sound of chain. For a moment his back was in frame. Her body arched and she yelled loudly as he pinched a nipple firmly and put the first clamp on. He reached across and repeated the motion with its mate. Reaching up, he tugged down a hanging hook, and affixed the chain that connected the clamps to it. Moving out of the view of the audience, he turned a knob that lifted the hook–and the clamp’s chain–higher. It was tight, taut when he stopped.

dizzy hurts dizzy omg omg

her nipples burned like hellfire where the clamps held tight

the tiniest movement tugged the tender 


relentless in the pull

the pain of another orgasm building hold it back hold it back her nipples couldn’t take



The orgasm tore through her, her writhing body arching and wriggling, tugging ruthlessly on the chains on her nipples. The pain drew a second fast orgasm from her oozing cunt.

“Folks, you’re getting a mighty fine show here but if I don’t see the next round of contributions start coming in, many of you will miss the rest of this fine show.”

He watched the totals begin to grow. And grow. And grow. Best gig ever, he mused. He wouldn’t get to fuck her, but there was nothing in his contract that said he couldn’t jerk off quietly.  Another message came through the computer. The perv in Nebraska was one fucking cruel bastard!

“Okay, anal plug being added, folks. Thank our generous Nebraskan rancher.”

She came twice while he was inserting the plug. He was starting to lose count. His most incredible girl ever!

“Have you ever seen a slut cum like this before? She’s quite the horny little cunt, isn’t she? I think we’re over halfway now, and she’s looking like she’s running out of…oh wait, nope! There’s another gusher…”


cunt throbbing ass hurting so full so full so wet omg no she was 

coming again

coming apart feeling her atoms begin to separate into the stars



She couldn’t believe it was her on the video.

“You were very mean to me Master.”

“You loved every minute of it.”

“I did.”

Blushing, she tucked her head against his shoulder. Mr. Nebraska indeed.

“You might be famous after this, slut. The girl who wouldn’t stop orgasming or something. Mr. Smith had a pretty big hard-on when I came back to get you. You made his night.”

“It was…an interesting experience. I’m glad you have a copy of the tape because I don’t remember a lot of it.”

She gently bit his shoulder, then his ear lobe, whispering her thanks softly against his ear. His hand stroked down her back, pinched her ass.

“Happy birthday slut.”




Yet Another Masturbation Fantasy

He came upon her as she was bent over the toilet. Her bottom wiggled as she scrubbed industriously at some mysterious stain in the bowl. She wasn’t skinny, nor young. But something about the scene tightened his balls, stiffened his cock. He stepped into the bathroom, moving quickly, quietly, and grabbed her by her ponytail.

Pulling her to her knees, he growled at her.

“Open your mouth.”

She didn’t fight, didn’t protest. Her eyes were deeply blue, wide with shock. As he unzipped he didn’t pay attention to them anymore, only to the silky feel of her lips stretched over his shaft. Her mouth was hot, so fucking hot. A cute little squeak sounded as he pressed deeper. His cock grew stiffer, though it hardly seemed possible. He hadn’t had an erection this intense in a decade.

A jubilation erupted from him, her compliance fueling some primal response. He raped her mouth, slamming his cock deeply, holding her firmly when she squirmed and moaned. The gagging and tongue convulsions only served to add to the heady sensory explosion. Grabbing fistfuls of hair and the shell of her ears, he rammed his cock hard down her throat, pushing his cum down to her belly, milked by the sensations of her screams against his thick, stabbing cock.

“Swallow. Every. Fucking. Drop.”

Moments later, sated, he released her, letting her fall to the floor gasping. He leaned against the sink for a moment, panting from the exertion. Tucking his penis into his pants, zipping up, he bent down and pulled her to her feet. Dazed, she followed.

He shoved her roughly onto the unmade bed in the Master suite. With no finesse he tugged her jeans down, pausing to bark one brusque order.

“Get those tits out for me. Now.”

She wiggled on the bed, tugging up her shirt, her bra, as he pulled her jeans down, shedding the sneaker, then fully freeing one leg. He stared at the pink sock with little kitty cats on them, then left it on, amused at the double entendre he was enacting. Her panties had gone down with the jeans, and her neatly shaved cunt smiled its grin at him. He paused, looking at her. Big meaty tits flopping over her round belly.  Thick thighs, strong calves, and those blue eyes simply staring at him. He’d give her something to look at.

Slapping at her pussy, he demanded her to open her legs wider. Her jeans made a trail from the un-bared leg to the floor, sprawled barely upon the bed. They parted ever so slightly. He slapped again, and again, until her legs were wide open and he could see the full beauty of her pussy, red from his slaps, and seeping silvery juice from the mysterious folds and valleys.

His slapping hands worked up her belly, then worked over the thick round tits. They bobbled, they wiggled and jiggled and wobbled. Damned if his cock didn’t start to get hard again as the jumping tits excited him. From pale flesh, the color deepened; from soft pink to deeper red, with the soft purpling of bruises in several places. His fingers found the nipples, pulled them roughly, grabbed fistfuls of tit-meat and squeezed until she whimpered. More slapping, pinching, squeezing, until he was panting.

Her cunt seeped now, a steady string of thick goo leaking from her. His fingers played with it, gathering it up, then stuffed it back inside of her. No soft gentle entry, this. Three fingers jabbed up into her cunt, and he smiled as she moaned loudly, as her body yielded to the forced entry. Hot, hotter than her mouth and so wet, so slick. Bending, his mouth found her clit and bit down.

She screamed then, her body arching, her pussy clamping down on his fingers. A hot tide of liquid surged around him, then spread out to the blankets below.

“Again,” he growled, fingering her roughly until she exploded a second time.

“More,” his words were fierce, his expression, hawklike, a Viking taking his due. The finger fucking became rougher, added another finger, pounding into her molten depths, excitement coursing through him as she thrashed on the bed crying ‘enough’. It wasn’t enough and he would make her orgasm again. He’d never done anything this exciting in his life. His cock began throbbing. With his free hand, he released himself, then slid his pants down, off.

He didn’t stop fingering her until his cock was poised. Pulling out, he slammed into her, driving up into her body like a piston. He was raping. He raped, and it felt so fucking good. He wanted to pound her cunt into submission, wanted to spray his spunk up into her belly, wanted to fill her, take her, use her. Fists curled around her tits, using them as handles to drive deeply into her. She moaned, writhed.

“Too much…so sore…”

“Good. It’s so much better when it’s sore…”

He felt the gathering in his balls, tried to hold off. Her body rose, writhed, released again. Still he raped her cunt, took possession of her, used her. When he could hold back no longer, he felt the release surge out of him as if he was spraying a garden hose. He was drained, empty of every drop of cum. As he slipped free from her swollen, abused pussy, she exploded, soaking them both.


He sat in the chair in his reading room, puffing on his pipe, reading the Times. He shook his head over the days events, sighing over yet another political brouhaha. Truth to tell, he was ready to take his money and move to Canada, or Barbados, or someplace other than this crazy nation. But his wife insisted that they stay here, in the behemoth of a house  that was really too big for two late middle aged people. The phone on the desk rang.


“Henry, did you eat your lunch?”

Why did she always figure that when she went to visit her mother, he’d forget to eat? He’d run to the steak house almost the minute her car pulled out of sight, and gave the salad she’d fixed for him to the compost bin.

“Did you remember to check the pool chemicals? That needs to be done today.”

“Yes, Margaret, I did that this morning. Before you left.”

“Oh, right, you’re right, dear. Well, did you–”

“When did I marry my mother, exactly?” He spoke drolly. Her giggle made him smile.

“You didn’t, naughty man! I worry about you when you’re alone there.”

“Margaret. You left her 5 hours ago. Did you fear I’d shrivel up and die?”

“No. Yes. Well. Maybe.” There was a muffled conversation in the background.

“Margaret, you’re turning into your mother. Or worse, mine. Go enjoy your visit, and I’ll see you on Monday.”

“One last thing, Mother,” she called out, not speaking to him.

“Henry, did the housekeeper come?”

He paused, smiling into the room. Oh did she ever, he thought.

“Yes, Margaret. Yes she did. Now…”

“And she’ll come back tomorrow to attend to the other things on my list? I’m sorry she’ll be working while you’re there, but it really is the best time…”

He thought of the woman tied up in his bed, a big vibrator fixed in her cunt, even now  squirming on the bed, coming viciously.

“Oh, she’ll come again,” he replied. “Good night, Margaret,” and he quietly hung up the phone.



“Hold her open…yeah, knees back and wide, just the way we like ’em…”

“You’re going to cum. No holding it back with this on your clit, and the big ole vibe in your cunt. You feel it, I see your ass wiggling there. Wiggle away, squirm and try to move it. Not gonna happen. You’re gonna cum, cum hard.”

His breath stank of old coffee, his curled fingers pressing against the top of her mons, the beast of a vibrator whirrling it’s fat, churning head against the sensitive clitoris.

“You’ll cum, we’ll make you cum, maybe even make you squirt. Make your pussy all slick and juicy. We like ’em that way, we do. You’ll cum until we let you stop for a breather, and then we’ll make you cum some more. Until you’re almost drained of it.”

A bottle tip squirted into her mouth. She wanted to spit it out but she was so thirsty.

“Atta girl….gotta keep you hydrated, keep you nice and sopping wet. Your cunt is already red and quivering. You’re gonna cum now, aren’t you?”

Her body clenched, bucked, heaving as the vibe tore the orgasm from her. Shivering and clenching, she tried to move away from the bastard ball making her clit scream.A steady “ung ung ung” came from her gagged-open mouth as the next ripple of pleasure was teased from her.

“She’s a gusher all right, boy’s,” came the gleeful voice of her captor.

“Once you’re wrung right out of orgasms, we’re gonna take turns fucking you. One by one, using your holes, all stretched and sensitive and tender. The best time to fuck a cunt, you know? When it clenches tight around our cocks, when you make those sexy noises as we use you, when we make you cum some more, even when you think you can’t.”

“It’s the best time,” came a voice from across the room.

“The Best.” Came another. And another. And another.

She came again, hard.

Gas (1)

i know ya’ll hate when i draw out tales like this…but trust me, when part two goes up, you’ll be thankful for the wait. Think of this like …like one of Master’s ‘half-o’s.”….preparation for the fun stuff!  ~nilla~

She pulled into the podunk gas station in a cloud of dust. Taking a last chug of water from the bottle beside her, she swiped at the grime coming in her windows and landing on her overheated cheeks.

“Hep you ma’am?” spoke a lazy drawl through her window.

“20 regular,” she replied, not looking at him. She dug in her purse for her wallet, took out the lone $20 bill there. She’d need to find an ATM soon or she’d be fucked, she mused. Tuning out the sounds of the gas cap coming loose, the steady gurgle of gas dribbling into the tank, she picked up her phone, checking for texts.

“Caint use your cell while I’m fillin’ the tank,” drawled the voice.

“Fine, whatever,” she pouted, stuffing the phone back into her purse.

Waiting, she watched the silver shimmers of heat rising from the highway. In the distance, dusky blue mountains pierced the sky, her destination. From here it almost looked as though some of those enormous monoliths still bore snow caps. Snow. Heat made beads of sweat pop out along her underarms, and in the creases of her legs. The imagining of falling into a snowdrift helped. For a moment, at least.

It seemed to be taking forever to put the gas into the tank, or maybe she was just that impatient to be off. At last she heard the nozzle being removed, the snick of her gas cap screwing on, the final sharp clip of her cover being secured.

“That’ll be $40.00 ma’am,” drawled the voice.

“FORTY?” She exclaimed. “Forty?? I told you $20.”

“No ma’am, you were clear as day. Said $40.”

“Well, I don’t have $40. I have $20.” No way was she parting with her emergency $10 until she found an ATM.

“You must have an ATM nearby. I’ll run to that and …”

“No ma’am, no ATM’s ’round here. You’ll need to go in and talk to the manager. He’s right in the office.”

“You better bring your scrawny ass in there too, this is your mistake.”

He leaned into the car unexpectedly, tugging her keys free of the ignition.

“Just in case, you understand, ma’am,” he spoke a scant inch from her face.

“Out, you oaf!”

She leaned back against her headrest, waiting for him to move away so she could exit the car. The fucking asshat! She needed to be on her way. She was tired, and didn’t want to drive through the desert in the dark. The fucking idiot! Sliding out of the car, she tried to tamp down the mad, but truthfully, her temper was nearly as hot as the pavement outside.

A lone bell clanged on the glass of the door. A long scribble of etching showed that it had hung there forever. The place smelled of grease–both automotive and food. It smelled of men, of gasoline, of places that were more than a little icky to her. She wrinkled her nose.

“Office is through there,” he pointed to an open doorway leading, she supposed, into the garage. She stepped through, cautious. More smells. A car up on a lift, missing all the tires. No one was in the open floor, so she supposed the kid who was a fuck up was also the mechanic. She saw the door  to a small bump-out along the side wall. Through a grime-smeared window she saw someone sitting in there.

A skinny arm reached around her as she approached the door, opening it without even a cursory knock. She jumped a little, forgetting he was behind her.

“Yo, boss, we gotta problem. Little lady here told me she wanted $40 in the tank, then when I was done, told me she’d said twenty.”

The man at the desk looked like Santa. Longish white hair, a beard, jolly cheeks and all. Yet rather than merry and blue, his eyes were green as marbles, and fierce. He might have had the appearance of a jolly old elf but that impression only lasted until he looked into you. The sudden flutter of nerves shivered up her spine.

“You’re trying to welch out on paying me?”

The tone was deceptively mild.

“No…no sir. I said for him to put $20 in the tank, not 40. I’m sorry about the mistake but it was his, not mine. I just don’t have another $20. If you want to follow me to your bank so I can use an ATM I’m happy to …”

“I’m busy here, girl. I can’t just up and run 20 miles into town because you thought you could steal gas from me.”

“Well,” she said, feeling the upsurge of anger in her belly, “I don’t know what else to tell you. Pump it back out of there, then.”

The young man spoke up.

“Caint do that–puts impurities from your gas tank into the storage unit underground. ‘Sides, there’s a law about that.”

She took a huffy breath, raising her arms in a big shrug, before dropping them to her side with a sigh. The Elf, Randy, the tag on his shirt said, picked up the phone.

“Looks like I gotta call Ed.”

“Who’s Ed?” she asked. “I just want to fix this and get the fuck out of here!”

“Tsk, language,” Randy said, turning the dial on the old black rotary phone on his desk. “Oh hey, Maxine, could you send Ed over this way? Yup, got a situation here. Great. Thanks.” He hung up the phone with a clatter.

“He’s not far from here, Maxine will call him and he’ll be right over.”

“Who the f-.” she paused, blushing at the prior admonishment. Damn him for making her feel 16 again. “…hell is this Ed?”

“He’s the sheriff, ma’am.”

Stranger (5)

He came in the dark. Silently moving across her apartment, slipping into the room where she lay sprawled upon the bed, he took a moment to study her in the dusky light coming through her unadorned window. Reviewing his moves, he slipped out of his sweatpants. Thin leather gloves would caress her skin this time, would slap the cuffs around her wrists, slip the spider gag into her mouth as he sat on her tits. His back to the light would ensure that she would not be able to see him, until he slid the silken mask over her head.

It was like a sadistic ballet. The timing was perfect–and needed to be. He all but leapt upon the bed, upon her, his moves fluid. His knees slid up to her armpits, his hands capturing her forearms. In seconds she was cuffed to the headboard, the lovely old iron railings so perfect for this.

He felt her struggles beneath him, the kicking of her legs, but he paid no attention. Her mouth opened and closed, gasping half-formed words as she woke to shock and confusion. The gag slid into her mouth perfectly, her arms jerking, as she tried at the last moment to avoid it. The mask slid over her rumpled hair, hiding her eyes. The hole in the mask aligned perfectly with her open mouth. In a quick move, he was off of her, heard her gasp a deep breath now that he wasn’t perched on her rack. Snatching the rope from the floor, he grabbed both legs, half laying on her again, and began wrapping her ankles together.

“What a pretty mermaid you are,” he chuckled meanly. Though she bucked and writhed, she was well and truly caught. The noises from her mouth were unpleasant, and his cock was rock hard from them. So sexy, those gasping honks. No words, just the sounds of a captive animal.

He slapped her cheek with his shaft; she jolted. More high-pitched noises erupted from her open mouth hole.

“I hope you’re hungry darling. But first…”

He slipped down, until his ass was resting on her belly. Slapping left to right, right to left, he attacked her tits. Bobbling madly from each blow, even in this semi-dark he could see them start to pinken, the nipples to flush with blood. He slapped hard, the sounds echoing in the room. When his hands began to sting, he slapped the two meatbags together, let them fall, slapped them together. Watching them shake and jiggle tightened his cock further. The sounds she was making were insane. Guttural  grunts, the gurgle of saliva. Yes, she was ready now. He dropped her tits, and slid up, his balls massaged by her soft skin. Rising up to his knees, he positioned his shaft, running the tip along her bottom lip. Turning away wasn’t an option for her, her head trapped between her arms, her arms constricted by his legs.

If he was a gentleman, he would have teased her more. Would have slid his rigid length along her tongue. Instead, he hammered her throat. Held himself buried in her heat, felt her throat closing around him, the quick hitching spasm of her gag as her body tried, vainly, to expel him. He moaned, counting silently to 20. Pulling out, he let her gag, allowed her to inhale, one breath,two, before punching his cock into her face again. He fucked, ruthless, brutal, raping her lips, her tongue, her throat. Again, holding her breath hostage, he gritted his teeth, thinking of ice cubes and glaciers, willing his balls not to shoot straight into her stomach.

He pulled away.

The mask was wet from tears, he could see the blotches where her eyes would be. Spittle soaked the mouth hole. He imagined her face was shiny and sticky with it. She’d be sticky with more than that soon. His cock lurched, and he tried actively to not explode; viciously remembered falling into a cold mountain stream while hiking, how his balls had lurched so far inside he felt them under his heart. Despite the frigid memory, the tip of his shaft was oozing, red and angry and throbbing, demanding release.

He had better control than that.

She was making small noises. He ignored them, lest he lose control and shoot his spunk everywhere. Sliding from her, he grasped her legs, tossing her to her side. His gloved fingers plunged into her cunt.

“You’re fucking soaked. Slut. Whore. You scream and whine, but your cunt is begging for this.”

He sank, balls deep, on his first thrust. He fucked her roughly, using her like the fuckhole she was, each punch of his cock a slam against her exposed pussy. Her whining became whimpers and he knew she was close. He pulled out, flipped her to her back, and had his shaft in her throat before she could react.

“Taste that. Your cunt-juice all over me.”


He took her throat in his hands feeling his cock shove past her gag, past point of reason. He felt her jerk, twitching violently on the end of his shaft, before he slid just enough for her to catch her breath. On her third gasping wheeze, his cock erupted, filling her mouth.

He used his penis to plunge every last drop into her throat.



Stranger (4)

She worked. It focused her, took her mind off of him, of what he’d done to her. Of what she’d enjoyed him doing to her. The words echoed off some primal nubbin of her brain. No. She was civilized, reasonable. Responsible. She didn’t agree to this. Didn’t like this.

Did not.


Yet anytime some little nugget of memory rose, she found herself squirming in her chair. In the ladies room, her cunt would be oozing. Her asshole clenched. The memories of her body kept The Incident alive.


He let her stew. He’d watch her always from afar. A stranger never strayed too close, after all, until it became totally necessary to remind her of what she was capable of. Of what he was capable of. Her body was looser, these days. She walked with a sexual roll, hips swaying rather than the staccato steps common in today’s businesswoman. How many times did her nipples rise each day, he wondered, looking at the telling jut under her shirt. She was seemingly unaware of them, locked, he thought, in the memory of his body buried in hers. He watched other people, men and women alike, pause for a moment, watching her. The swing of her hair, the sashaying walk, the curve of her tits, the pebbled nipples poking cheekily from her top. Men licked their lips, or would touch their fly; women would either stare in admiration, or avert their eyes. Just one visit and already such change he had made on her.

His smile was wolfish. Soon it would be time for another.



Stranger (3)

She paced around her place, naked. Her fingers strayed often to her breasts, her nipples. They were hard, had been hard.

Almost as hard as his cock.

NO! The thoughts kept intruding, poking holes in the cloak of calm she was trying to draw around herself. She hadn’t called the cops. Hadn’t leapt from the bed in fear or dismay. She hadn’t seen his face, his hands, his anything.

She only felt them.

She kept ‘feeling’ them, the large firmness of his penis buried deep in her darkest place. shit, holy shit,  his cock had been buried in her anus. Her asshole. Stretched-her-filled-her hurt -her; made her cum.

She came from having a man rape her ass.

Her nipples grew hard again, jutting into the cool air of the room. Day had fled; night slipped over the city. Tall towers speared light up into the sky.  Again she circled around her penthouse suite, her ass still throbbing all these hours later. Trying to work, every thought had fled, or been turned back to The Incident.  She couldn’t eat, couldn’t think of laying back on her bed. It had his scent, hers. The musk of cum filled her nose, the throb of lust stabbed her.  Trying to deny her mind, her body would not be silenced, Her fingers caressed the swollen buds of her breasts as she stalked around the rooms, ignoring that she was backlit by the lights.

Ignorant that she was on display, he wondered, looking across the way at her. Was she so stupid that she had no idea he–anyone– could look in and see her fondling herself, see the arousal flushed on her swollen tits?

He scanned the binoculars over her body, planning.


Stranger (2)

He could see her. No curtains on her windows, which is what first caught his eye. The room, boldly lit, hid nothing from his wildly expensive binoculars. She paced the room, hugging herself. Yet she’d pause, now and again, sliding a hand over one full tit, stopping to caress her nipples, rubbing at her beautifully round butt.

His cock, despite the workout, roused.

Oh, that ass. How deliciously tight her rosebud was. Trying to keep him out, only exciting him further. How wonderfully she’d moved under him. He’d felt the quiver of her cunt as she came, then came again. An exhibitionist, to be sure, but one who had hidden needs. He had known, all along. She had whimpered into the mattress, the slick sheen of sweat adding scent to the layer of intensity. She’d fought, he’d conquered. His cock leapt again, the sleeping beast waking to semi-hardness as the memories of her flooded him. He had enough self control to not reach down and stroke himself, preferring to let the need grow.

Until his next visit.