Anything (A Tale in Three Parts) Ending

previous chapter here.

There were no names, their faces became blurred. Cum in her eyes stung, and no way to get it out other than crying and blinking furiously.

“Whore hates cum in her face,” said the one who’d just finished her. Her lips ached from the gag holding her mouth agape. For a moment there was silence, then laughter.

“Good to know…I’ll be sure to add to her discomfort!”

The bed creaked as a body moved behind her. Her ass was squeezed, the round globes pulled apart.

“Your girl has a nice chubby ass. Got some good grip here.”

Clearing his throat, there was the distinct sound of hawking, and the sudden hot slap of wet on her ass.

“That’s all the lube you get, my little anal whore.” The voice was husky as he leaned over her hip. She felt his cock searching her slit, slipping through the wad of saliva until it pressed against her already sore asshole. His hand snaked over her side, grabbing her tit, squishing it between his fingers.

“Nice tits, too.”

The bed squealed as his weight shifted. She squealed as his huge shaft pushed into her. There was no “no” and no way to back out now. Her ass screamed in protest as he pressed onward-she wondered how fucking big it was. It felt like he was inserting an arm into her. Her clit pulsed, her cunt twitched despite the pain in her bottom. She couldn’t ask permission to cum, her mouth opened this way. Eyes closed, she let the sensations overtake her. The orgasm shuddered through her. A shadow fell across her face. Eyes parting slightly, she had but a moment to register that another cock was right in front of her.

The cage holding her lips apart wasn’t like a voluntary blow job. It’s sole purpose was to use her mouth as another fuck hole. Hands grabbed the headboard as his body levered over her face, the dangling appendage heading for the opening. His hips churned as the cock filled her, as he smash-banged his crotch against her nose. Choking, gagging, shaking her head, she could do nothing to stop the surging shaft. The pain in her ass tugged her attention for a moment as she was filled, stretched to the point of absurdity. When he started to fuck her she yelped, but the cock in her face silenced her.


The cheerful sound nearly escaped her, but for the presence of yet another cock, pressing into her cunt. As he slid into her wet hole, she felt fuller than she ever had before. Gagging, throbbing, cumming, she felt, not a person, but a thing, a warm wet series of holes to be fucked.


She faded in and out of consciousness. He must have had a lot of friends, or friends on drugs, because there was never a moment when a cock wasn’t pounding some part of her. If there was a lull, it was filled with beating. Hands slapping her tits, her thighs, her ass, her face or belly. Grunts and spurts and yells and smacking noises filled the room. The bed shook, her body trembled. She stank of semen, piss, the unending drool leaking from the corner of her mouth. She hurt everywhere…and yet she felt more alive than she had in years. The floaty sensation surprised her–she’d never thought ‘subspace’ was a real thing. The bed shifted as another cock slid into her softened bottom. She wasn’t conscious when he filled her ass with semen.


Waking slowly, she felt the weight of a man behind her. His hand was cupping her breast, his leg thrown over hers. The curtain moved slowly in the wind. Terribly disoriented, she couldn’t, for a moment, remember where she was. Trying to move away, she moaned at the shocking pain. Everything hurt. His hand tightened, his arm drawing her closer.

“Need to pee,” she whimpered.

“Go.” His voice was gruff. The hands holding her fell away. Carefully she shifted off the bed, stifling the moan that was born when she stood upright and tried to walk. Gods her asshole hurt! The demands of her bladder made her shuffle quickly across the room. Thankfully she remembered where the bathroom was. Last time she’d asked he’d made her crawl there, not an easy task when one had the urgent need to go. Stepping onto the cool tile was nearly her undoing. What was it about that sudden sharp slap of cold that made ones bladder want to release right¬†then?

Washing her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror. By the tiny glow of the night-light, she could still see the bruises blooming on her breasts. Hand prints and lines and the polka-dotting of bites painted the pale flesh with hues of red and purple and blue. Running her ¬†hands over her skin, she sucked in a sharp breath when her fingers grazed the sensitive tips. Pain and pleasure prickled. Her pussy had been wet when she’d wiped–and most of it wasn’t urine. What a fucking perverse creature you are, she muttered at her reflection. Quickly moving to the bed, she paused a moment looking at him. Mean, yes. He was the cruelest man she’d ever met. But dear gods he was good-looking, sexy as fuck. As fuck. That made her smile.

“Get in the fucking bed and stop grinning at me you sick fuck.” His voice sounded both terse and amused. She had no idea how he did that. Into the bed she all but leapt, snuggling up to him.

“Your fucking ass is cold! Geezuz!!”

He pushed her away, rolling her onto her belly. She felt him bending over her.

“Lucky for you I know how to fix that.”

He whispered the threat in her ear, the warm breath teasing the curved shell. Hands battered at her sore flesh, making her whimper and moan and writhe. She felt the sting, then the pain, the fire as he smacked her all over her bottom. Rolling her onto her back, he continued the smacking over her tits, her belly, before pulling her legs open and wide.

“Legs up on my shoulders. You keep them there or else.”

His hands battered at her pussy next, slaps alternated with punches. Her clit screamed, her lips swelled. Finally he grabbed her thigh and drove his hips forward, impaling her aching cunt with his swollen cock. He took her hard, fucking her with a force that moved her up and up the bed, until her head was banging the headboard, and still he pummeled her. Her pussy took it and begged for it never to stop, even as it hurt.

He came then, his breath gasping as he spurted deep in her belly. With a last groan, he fell atop her, seemingly asleep instantly.

When she woke again, it was morning, and he was gone. There was no note, no orders to follow. Easing out of bed, she paused, looking at her image in the mirror over his dresser. She was…purple. Black and blue. Fat bruises, skinny bruises. Her hair was a tangled rat’s nest and there was an enormous deep blue mark on her hip. Turning, she peered over her shoulder at the damage to her backside. It was as equally marked as her front.


Her eyes rose to his in the mirror. He’d come into the room quietly, standing nearly in front of her.

“You take marks well.”

His finger poked at a dark spot on her left tit. She winced, but held still. He smiled, a look she’d already learned was dangerous in him. Stepping closer, he pressed the mark harder. She moaned. Fingers pinched over the mark. Her head fell back, her mouth open and panting.

“Look at me. I want to see you hurting.”

Short gasps of breath, then her eyes opened. He watched her hungrily, greedy for her pain. He frightened her even as he intrigued. An inadvertant yelp escaped when his free hand pinched her nipple. She swore she could feel the bruise deepening, but it was hard to say which pain was the worst of the two.

“Please…” she gasped out at last, all but falling to the floor. He held on, bending into her collapse, still pinching.

“Oh GAWD,” she moaned, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Pretty,” he said again as he released her and turned away. He looked over his shoulder at her. “I’ll take you home soon. Clean your skanky ass.”

Home? Already? She felt deflated by that, though the very thought of intercourse made her want to puke. Her pussy and ass were so sore that she’d be walking funny for a week. With a little frown, she turned and moved to the bathroom.


I know I said this was a tale in 3 parts, but I really need one more to finish this naughty tale. Thanks for waiting so long for part 3… ~nilla~