Anything (A tale in 3 Parts) Middle


She grunted as his cock slammed into her pussy. He had just picked her up from her apartment, tugged her into the taxi, and bent her over the seat. In seconds he was fucking her.

“You’ll–give–the—driver—a — blowjob–later.” Each word was a thrust of his cock into her hole. She’d been nervous, but wet, thankfully. Each shove of his dick into her body had made her wetter.

She felt an orgasm building, but he came, fast, filling her with his spunk, then pulled out. She couldn’t stop the moan of disappointment.

“Fuck toy, you don’t get to cum unless we fuck a lot longer or I decide to let you. Now bend over here and clean up my cock.”

She cleaned him as his hands moved through her hair, occasionally tugging it, pulling her mouth away from his shaft, making her “work for it, cunt” but eventually she was finished. His load was oozing from her cunt, her panties doing little to absorb the wetness from her unfulfilled need and his load.

“Take off your shirt and bra. You can’t sit on the man’s seat and get your shit all over it.”

They were in traffic and he wanted her topless? Her lips formed the “b” for “but”. He looked at her, expecting her to argue. Instead, she mouthed the word “bastard” and stripped. He grinned at her.

“You’re going to be fun.”

She wasn’t sure why that filled her with trepidation as well as an intense longing. The two emotions had been at war within her over the last several weeks as she had waited for his call.

She tried not to notice the stares of people as they worked their way out of downtown, oogling her tits as she sat on her shirt. She felt his cum soaking into it as it drained from her, and the sullen pulsing of her own unfinished needs.

Then again, all of this was part and parcel of a bigger need.


They pulled up in front of a brownstone at the outskirts of town. The driver left the front and came to the back, and she was suddenly the filling in a man sandwich, squeezed between their larger frames.

“You know what to do, slut.”

His voice carried a hint of menace to it.  The cabbie leaned back in the seat and put his hands behind his head, watching them.  Her mouth opened, closed.

The agreement lay between them-her promise to do whatever he wanted for the full weekend burned in her mind. She didn’t have an inkling that this was one of the things. She guessed she didn’t know as much about this kink thing as she thought. She’d imagined being bossed around and tied up and stuff while fucking, but never this whole loss of self-control. It made her tremble. With lust or fear she wasn’t sure. Maybe both. Simultaneously.

And didn’t that do something seriously delicious to her empty cunt?

She bent over, unzipping the cabbies jeans, and fishing for his cock.

“Put your knee up on the seat and spread yourself. Lift your ass up. Jesus your cunt is dripping, and it isn’t just my cum, you whore. Your pussy is begging me to fuck it again, isn’t it?”

He kept up the stream of humiliating dirty talk as she sucked the flaccid dick into her mouth, as she worked him to hardness. His hands pressed onto her head, his posture much less nonchalant than it had been when she started. Her Master’s hands moved over her ass, his fingers tugging her pussy lips, circling her clit, and tormenting her. She needed to cum so badly.  Yet every time she came close he pulled back, letting her ease down. Her attention was constantly split between the cock in her mouth and His hands on her core.

The cabbies dick wasn’t huge, but when he pushed her head down his shaft, the head hit her gag zone, and she’d cough, trying to pull away, then moan from the tug of his fingers now wrapping in her hair.

“Yeah baby yeah daddy likes it just like that moan on my cock you cocksucker swallow my foam you cunt take it deep yes yes yessssssssss”

She tasted the salty release of him into the deep recesses of her throat and swallowed, at the exact moment that her Master shoved two fingers into her asshole.

She shrieked, choked on cum, then whimpered. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. And it was good too. She wiggled, though whether to dislodge him, or drive him deeper she didn’t know. She was assaulted with feelings and sensations she’d never felt before.

His fingers pinched her clit while circling through her rectum.

“Cum now.”

The words were implacable, yet demanding. As if her body already understood obedience to him, her belly clenched and writhed. It was empty, clamping down where his cock had been, its memory traced along the grasping muscles. fuck meee  her cunt screamed, even as another spasm made her back arch. Her head released from the cabbies crotch, a guttural moan wrung from her aching lips.

His fingers left her ass. She half-knelt on the backseat, watching as he wiped the small residue of shit off his fingers with her shirt. Ew. And how embarrassing that he held eye contact with her while he did it, a strange smile playing across his face. He was enjoying humiliating her.


He pulled her up the steps to the brownstone by her nipple. She held her shit-and-cum smeared shirt in her hands, her skirt bunched over one hip. For all intents and purposes she was almost naked.

Sliding a key into the door, he pushed through it, tugging her along. The house was beautiful inside, but he didn’t give her time to look around. He led her straight through to the kitchen.

“I’m hungry. Fix me some eggs.”

He turned and left the room. Her mouth opened and closed, her protest snuffed as he didn’t even look back. Why, that arrogant bastard. She turned, looking for a place to leave her gross blouse and bra. Opening a door, she found a small laundry area. She dropped her soiled clothing into the washer.  Pausing a moment, she thought, ‘what the hell’ and threw her skirt and panties in too. So, he thought he’d fuck with her head? She’d show him. With a smirk, she flicked on the machine, then headed out to the kitchen.

Washing up, she set about preparing his eggs. When he returned to the room 15 minutes later, she had the breakfast bar set, a mug of coffee steaming beside the plate, stacked with fluffy eggs, buttered toast, and an insouciant grin on her face.

“Big guy like you will need lots of energy this weekend. I’m gonna wear you to a nubbin.”

Bold words, considering she was standing there naked, she thought. Still, she was as excited as she’d ever been. Maybe some of her pounding heart was from nerves. But some was from pure sexual overdrive.

He grinned back.

“You’re one sassy-assed slut.  Sit and eat some of this. You’ll need it.”

She moved to sit across from him, but he gestured her to his side.

“Straddle my leg. No, this way.”

He poked her shoulder, turning her to face him.

“I’ve decided I’ll feed you.”

She noted that he’d changed to shorts. She eased her thighs to each side of his massive one. His fingers found her nipples again, tugging her closer to him. Her nips were aching, but in a way that sent daggers of sensation to her clit.

“Rub that wet pussy on my leg.” His voice was a low murmur. Up on her tiptoes, her cunt pressed against his thigh, she felt the roughness of his flesh against her sensitive folds.


Like a baby bird, she thought, as she opened her lips to his fingers. He slid a bit of egg onto her tongue, fucking her mouth with the digit. She moaned, swallowed. Again he slid a fingerload of food into her, tracing the inside of her mouth, pressing her tongue, pinching her lip.

“keep rubbing your cunt on me”

Shifting her hips, she took the food he fed her, as he alternated between her mouth and her breasts with his touch. She was so turned on she could feel the wetness slicking his thigh. Eyes half-closed, she was so close.


He pushed her off his leg unceremoniously. Landing on the floor, he kept her there by putting his feet on her, and eating the rest of his breakfast.

“Suck my toe” He said around a mouthful of toast, pressing his foot against her face.

“Eww” she muttered. It was soft, but Mr. Eagle Ears heard it, and mashed her tit under his heel. Whimpers became moans became yelps. It fucking hurt!

“Are you ready to suck?”

“Sir, yes Sir!” Patently false enthusiasm oozed from her. Just get his fucking heel off her tit!

“You’re a feisty piece of ass,” he laughed, shoving his toe into her mouth.

She sucked.

He sucked more.


She hung from some sort of contraption in the cellar. His play room, he called it. Soundproofed so he could enjoy her screams. Hadn’t that simple statement given rise to a flurry of goosebumps along her arms?

And then he’d moved quickly, hooking her to a series of hanging chains. Her toes barely touched the floor, arching her feet. She could stand flat-footed but that pulled the clamps on her nipples intensely. He called it ‘predicament bondage’.

He’d sat for a while–time had no meaning to her just now– watching her alternate between sore feet and throbbing nipples. When he rose, catlike, she’d felt a sense of relief. Yet, he’d crossed to a cabinet, rather than to release her. Her nipples ached like fire was licking up the round orbs of her tits, burning into her, through her. She’d never experienced this sort of pain, never experienced the sensations of want/need/hate/fear/yearning that each took its turn through her mind.

“Don’t suffer in silence. I like hearing your mewling.”

He hit her ass with something.

“Crop. Nasty little fucker.”

He swatted her again, hitting her hip. He was circling her, watching her body, her face, her eyes. When he hit her nipple she screamed.  Tears flooded her eyes.

“Let it go.”

He swatted the same nipple, harder. She howled. Her ass took the next blow, this one the hardest yet, and she rose to her toes, trying to move away. Her nipples really didn’t like that, and she cried out again from the self-inflicted pain.

Hands found her hips.

“You’re such a fucking whore. I’m going to fuck you from behind, make it rough the way you want it. It’s going to hurt your tits if you move too much. You’re going to move too much coz you’re gonna like it.”

His cock was in her, pounding up into her belly. Her nipples were burning points of fire as she pushed back into the plundering shaft, moaning in pleasure, whimpering in pain.

It was wicked. It was intense.

She woke slowly, laying on the floor.

“What a cunt.”

He stood staring down at her. Her breasts hurt. She felt her nipple, making sure it was still attached. He dropped something on her belly.

“Do yourself.”

He wanted to watch her masturbate after the most intense orgasm of her life.

His foot thudded on her hip.

“Now, or else.”

She didn’t want to find out what his sadistic mind would consider an appropriate “or else”. She slid the dildo between her legs, using one hand to part her swollen lips apart. Soaked and slippery, she glided the fat fake cock through the wetness before pressing it slowly into her cunt.

“Faster. Fuck it fast or I’ll ‘help’ you.”

Her eyes widened. She did not want his help. He dropped to the floor. “You lose.”

His hand closed over hers, shoving the rubber dick into her.


Too much too fast, he began pummeling her pussy with the thing.

“Want to see you cum all over this fuck stick,” he growled, beating her cunt with the dildo. His hand closed painfully over hers; she couldn’t move it away if she wanted to. She came apart, it seemed, her molecules separating,  the electrons and atoms unbound as she exploded. Her back arched, her toes and fingers clenched as the orgasm blew through her body. Even her hair had sensation, blown wildly in the orgasmic wind from the ecstatic release.


When she woke this time, it was to the feeling of needing to shit. She tried to move.

“Awake at last.”

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

He shook his head, eyes gleaming at her.

“That dildo is up your shitter. Taped into your ass so it won’t get squeezed out when my buddies get here to fuck you. You’ll thank me for stretching it while you were out, because one of my friends has a dick like a fucking baseball bat.”

He moved to the bed, stroking her hair.

“You’re one hot fuck.”

He slid something from behind him. The sly fucker. The spider gag, for she’d seen them in some porn video’s, wedged her mouth open. He lifted her head, fastening it tight.

“You look even better now. Ready. Open. A total whore. We’re going to have such fun. I’m not sure you will–but my friends and I will make full use of you.”

He slid a dildo into her pussy. A flick of a switch made her whimper. The vibe played along her over-sensitive nerves.

“This’ll keep you juicy.”

A light flashed on the opposite wall, a quick glint of red. His grin turned feral. He pointed at the light.

“Doorbell alert. They’re he-ee-re… And won’t we have a fine fucking time?! All my buddies will have a chance to do you.”

His mocking laughter filled the room as the door closed behind him with a thunk. She tugged at the thick leather restraints that held her to the bed, a sudden surge of panic running through her.

She didn’t think she could do this.

It appeared that she no longer had a choice–she was about to be “done”.

Anything (a Tale in 3 Parts) “Beginning”

“I’ll do anything.”

“If I had a nickel…”

“I’m serious. I want to do this.”

“People want many things. Or think they do. And then they get them–”

“I’m not like everyone else. I — I don’t know where else to go…who else to meet…”

“Yeah, yeah, blah, blah. Same story all the time little girl. People like you read 50 Gray shades of submission and think that’s all there is to it. Lip biting and orgasms. The real stuff? Ain’t like that at all.”

“I know that–”

“You don’t know shit. There are not high-rise apartments in my world. There are no white rooms with views of the city, or a room upholstered in leather and wood. It’s raw. It’s fucking real. You play at this shit, it will eat you alive.”

“I’m not a player.”

“Fuck you are. Tell me what you’ve done.”

“I–I’ve been spanked. And I LIKED it.”

“I’m so impressed. Not. What else.”

“You’re a real bastard, you know. I’ve given blowjobs.”

“This is me being nice little girl. If you think I’m being a bastard now? You should just hang up, and go back to your little spanko friends. And big fucking deal you give blowjobs. In my world? They’re not given, girl, they’re taken.”

“I told you I wanted this. Want to feel what it’s like, hardcore.”

“You don’t have the balls for it.”

“I’ve never had balls. And YOU sound like the scared one here.”

“I’m not going to take someone into the program who chicken shits out on hour one. It’s a full weekend, Friday noon through Sunday midnight.  I take you on, we work out the things that are totally hard limits–and I won’t allow many–and I fit you into my program. That’s the limit of your consent.”

“I can do this.”

“If you sign the agreement? You WILL do this. There is no try, only DO. You don’t show, I come and GET you and it won’t go well for you. You’ll start your stay with punishment, and that’s never a good way to begin.”

“I’ll read your freaking documents. I’ll talk to you about limits. Just please let me do this.”

“Meet me at the coffee shop on 5th and Main at noon tomorrow. Sit in the seat in front of the window in the corner under the clock.”


“Sir. Might as well practice now, cunt.”


“*sigh* PUT it toGETHER, cunt. Yes and Sir go together. Try again or I’ll punish you in the coffee shop. They know me there, and are cool with the ‘style.

“Yes Sir, I’ll be there tomorrow at noon.”

“You don’t show? You’re automatically out, and you’ll never get ahold of me again. Capiche?”

“Yes…..Sir, I understand.”

“Nice save, slut.”


She clutched her purse, fingers so tense that her knuckles were white.  She would have ordered coffee but he hadn’t said to, so she sat at the table where He’d directed her. It was now 12:10, and she’d begun sweating bullets. What if he didn’t show? What if he’d been in some sort of terrible accident?

At 12:3o she considered leaving. She didn’t need to be fucked over like this! Her time was valuable. She had places to go, things to do. She was a successful businesswoman, and people didn’t do this to her. Keep her waiting for a half-hour? This was ridiculous bullshit.

Yet she sat.

People came and went. Obviously the place was popular with the noon lunch crowd. Coffee spat and spewed behind the work counter, the two guys working the machines efficiently, yet bantering with customers. They never looked at her, at least she didn’t think they did, and she wondered some about that. She stopped watching the door every second.

At 1245 the crowd of office workers who were sharing several thick slices of chocolate cake departed en masse, leaving the shop much quieter. She watched them walking down the street, a mini-pod of legs and arms and hair blowing in the wind. She felt more isolated than ever.

The sound of the chair at the table next to her jolted her out of her reverie.

“Good girl.”

He hooked the chair around, sitting on it backwards, his large hands circling around the curved back. His eyes were intense, and she found herself almost breathless under his scrutiny.

“Wondered if you’d bail. But you stuck. That’s good. Many fail this first test. Do you understand what the lesson is here?”

She swallowed, her pulse throbbing visibly in her throat.

“T-that I ….am here at your whim…and that I work on your time frame.”

“Very good. And exactly right. You work at my pace. I show when I choose to. If I take you, you do as I want. It’s all about me. You get what I decide to give you, whether it’s an ass full of cum, or the taste of my balls in your mouth.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Her voice fell to a near whisper. His words scared the shit out of her, but thrilled her to her marrow. She would, possibly, maybe, be this man’s fucktoy at some point  in time. If she passed this critical interview.

He tossed a paper onto the table.  It had one sentence on it.

“You do every fucking thing I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it, how I tell you to do it, without hesitation.”

She read it, nodded.

“Hard limit?”

“I don’t want you to cut my hair, or any body parts off. I don’t want to be maimed. I expect to come out of this intact and alive.”

“Carving girls up into chunks isn’t my deal. But I understand you need that spelled out. Go on.”

“That’s it.”

“Nothing else? Breath play? Suspension? Knives? Needles?”

She pointed at the document.

“Whatever you want me to do. From Friday noon until Sunday midnight. This is my fantasy. To be a thing. A fuck toy. To be used as you see fit.”

“I could throw you in a cage and leave you there all weekend, to sit in your own piss and shit.”

“You could….though I don’t see how that would be any fun at all for you.”

He laughed.

“Good, you have some spunk to you. I don’t like fucking dead meat. You lay there and submit like a stuffed doll, I’m gonna be pissed. I expect some fight. I like rape scenes. Catching you and doing you rough. Ripping off your clothing, and ramming into your cunt or asshole or mouth.”

“I want you to rape me.”

He nodded. He’d known, of course, it was in her initial profile.

“I want you to use me,” she continued, her eyes blazing blue fire. “I want you to fuck with my body, fuck with my head. I want you to beat me, hurt me, use me.”

“I expect you to fight. I expect you to sass. I expect good manners when we’re not in a scene. I won’t be alone.”

She hadn’t expected that. He watched her pupils narrow, then dilate. He’d surprised her.


And she surprised him right back.

He tugged a pen out of his shirt pocket.

“Sign here.”

She carefully wrote her name on the bottom of his paper, he added his with a messy flourish. Folding it, he rose from the chair in one fluid motion.

“The guys behind the counter get blow jobs before you go. Be a good girl and make me proud. I’ll be in contact.”

Her mouth opened in an O of surprise as he left the shop without looking back. The first barista came to the table.

“This way, miss,” he said, taking her arm.