The Word (1)

I almost never serialize stories here, but this was too delicious a tale to try to cram it all into one sitting. With my deepest thanks to Ancilla ksst and that Devious Master of hers who came up with the idea in the first place. Such wonderful torments just make my brain quiver with excitement! ~nilla~


It was late.

No, it was fucking awful late. She hated when her work ran over like that. And then she’d forgotten that her car was low on gas. She’d pulled into the station, thankful it was open, hers the only car on the byway to home. She’d texted him to let him know what was going on even though he was heading out for his poker game with the guys. So she’d get home and finally be shed of these fucking killer heels, she thought as she stood pumping gas. Done, she decided to head inside the small store. A snack, or at least a soft drink to keep her mind on the road and not her empty belly would help. He didn’t approve of soda, but did allow her an occasional one. She supposed he’d be okay with it tonight.

Sliding into the car, she opened the bottle and took a swallow. Head tilted back, she almost choked when a hand came around her throat, holding her chin up.


The sibilant whisper froze her in place. It was His word.  A faint nod of her head, a softly croaked “I understand…Sir” and the hand released her throat. She heard him settling back in his seat, the soft snick of the seatbelt engaging.

“Drive,”  came the voice from the back. “I’ll direct you.”

She tried to look in the rear view mirror but it had been tilted away. She knew better than to try to adjust it. Her heart thumped so loudly it was a wonder it wasn’t audible to the man in her backseat. Turning out onto the road, she turned the car right at his order, and let her panicked mind roll back to the conversation that had brought her to this juncture. It had been months ago, and she had been certain that it was a mindfuck.

But there was a man in her backseat, belaying that idea.

They’d been washing dishes, her washing, he opting to dry. While waiting for each item to be washed, he’d pinch her tit, or slap her ass, laughing as she squirmed and shrieked and made a soapy mess everywhere.

“I’m getting wet!” she’d protested to him at one point.

“I like you wet,” he’d replied, sliding his hand between her legs and squeezing. She was undeniably hot.

“I know what else gets your little pussy all juicy,” he had said, his tone teasing but with that tone that always made her shiver, too. Rather than replying, she finished up the dishes, and made busy with wiping the sink. Before she could turn away, he pinned her there.

“I know you’re dying to know,” he said, his voice soft and on the verge of threatening. Her pussy clenched. Damn the man for knowing exactly what buttons to push. His fingers tightened on her hips, his pelvis warm against her ass.

“Someday, somewhere, I’m going to have a friend whisper a word in your ear. It will be my code word.”

Frozen in place, lust at war with fear, she listened hard to his every word.

“He’ll say the word to you and you will know that I have sent him. He will take you, bring you someplace, and have you. He’ll have access to all your holes, slut.” His voice was husky with the promise of danger. “He’ll fuck you, and suck you, and slap you around. You’ll be his playtoy until he brings you back to me. You won’t know for how long–he and I will work that out. Your only focus will be to serve.”

Her pulse rose, her breath held. A quivery shiver moved through her. As his hands came around to cup her breasts, to squeeze and mold the supple flesh, she came, hard.

He knew just how to get to her.


Later, a day or a week or more, he’d pondered the word to her. Stubbornly she’d found a reason to dismiss them all.


“Anyone kidnapping a woman might call her whore. That won’t work.”



There was a longer pause.

“Princess Poopy Pants,” he said, his tone prissy.

She laughed, blushing furiously.

“NO!” Was her quick reply. “No no and NO! Besides, that’s three words.”

He grumbled a bit, but she saw his smile.

“I have it. Owl,” He said, testing it.


“What crazed lunatic would say owl if they were robbing or abducting you? And besides, you like owls. Owl it is.”

And that, it seemed, was that, until tonight.


Bound for Trouble

“How very vulnerable you are, little slut.”

He moves into her view, holding a thick black rubber cock.

“You let me kiss you, fondle your tits, suck and bite your nipples. You let me take off your clothing, let me tie your wrists, let me push you onto the bed, let me cuff your ankles to my spreader bar, let me rub your clit.”

He strokes a finger down her cheek, rubs it along the silver tape holding her lips silent.

“Your eyes — so expressive. The fear excites you, I can see it.”

His hand pinches one erect nipple, twisting it cruelly. The pain burns a path to her clit, makes her eyes slip shut for a moment, breathing deep against the hurt. When she opens them, he is standing by her feet, looking at her pussy.

“Your cunt is swollen, gleaming with wetness. Such a hot little slut you are.”

His hand grabs the center of the spreader, lifting it, placing the black phallus against her slit. It only takes a moment for him to thread a rope that she hadn’t known was there around her cuffed wrists, around the spreader bar. Slowly, he pulls the rope. Her legs and arms raise, until her wrists hit the headboard, and her ankles are in the air over her shoulders. The look in his eyes changes and she shivers. A fresh splash of juice spills from her pussy as excitement rises to a new level.

“Look at you, so vulnerable. So open. So ready. For what, though? For me to fuck you with this dildo, stretching your hole wide and making you cum like the whore you are? I agreed to your demand of ‘no anal’…but here you are. Vulnerable. And your ass, so white, so round, so tender.”

His hand smooths over the pale moons of her ass, the touch light and teasing.

“What pulls my attention from all that white is that little rosy-brown pucker. It winks at me, teasing me, provoking me. It is saying “you can’t touch me’…”

His finger circles the areola of her anus. Her shiver is immediate and her eyes widen. He presses the dildo into her pussy, eyes locked with hers as his other finger continues to swirl around the brown ring.

“…and that makes me want to touch it. Makes me want to stretch it, fill it. My thumb would be a nice test. To feel that muscle yield, to have the ring of it tighten, a round brown plum on my thumb.”

He laughs at his own joke, and she feels her heart quicken. She said no, absolutely no anal. She was given a safeword, but with the tape, he can’t hear her. Was she fucking insane to have trusted someone who she had met on the internet just a few months ago? Her pussy leaks more juice.

“Perhaps this lovely fat dildo should take the plunge. It’s all nice and slick from your pussy. Yes, I know, I know you’ve cum already. It’s wet and slippery, and it wouldn’t take much effort to press it deeply right into that sly winking hole back there. Stretch your bum good, make it ready. I’ll take you just this way, so I can watch your eyes as I fill your ass with my cock.”

He moves away from the bed, crosses to his bag, takes out an item. A Hitachi. OH, she thinks, unsure. She’d heard they were too much, too intense. And she’d said NO anal. Torn between fear and lust, she watches him plug the device into the wall by the bed. She swallows hard. He moves between her open thighs, positions it just so, the bulb pressing hard against her clit. He flickes the switch and her body jolts at the sensation. The big vibe slips from its position.  He shakes his head, moves away, returns with the duct tape. He fusses with the device for a few minutes, then tapes it to the inside of her thigh. A flick of the switch shows him that it’s placed perfectly against her clit, and no wiggling will dislodge it. He smiles, pats her cheek.

“I’ll let you rest here awhile with my friend, while I decide whether I’m a man of my word.”

He moves away from the bed, heads for the bathroom. He pauses before he enters, turns back to her.

“Or not.”

Pooped (version 2)

It figured.

She stood staring at the sign posted on the doors for the parking garage elevator.

out of service-use stairs

Today she’d chosen to wear five-inch heels to work.

Today she’d chosen to wear a short flirty skirt, to celebrate the glorious spring morning.

Today she’d been up and down and all over the building, on a day when she normally spent her eight hours sitting behind a desk, on the phone, on the computer.

Her feet throbbed. Served her right for dressing like a slut for work, she supposed. And the day had turned gloomy, dark rain clouds pouring through the blue sky, the temperature dropping by lunchtime.

She hadn’t bothered with a coat this morning.

Shivers ran up her legs and under her short hem, as a cold wind blew through the garage. It teased at her pussy and ass, and set her nipples into hard points of chill.

She had even chosen to work overtime tonight. And now, at ten p.m. the place was deserted. And her feet hurt. And it was too cold to take off her shoes and run up the concrete steps, even if she hadn’t wanted a run in her twenty-dollar stockings.

Turning, she began the climb to level six.


She was out of breath, but warmed up a bit from the exercise. Her toes cramped, her arches screamed as she exited the stairwell. Her car sat, of course, in the furthest corner. A gust of wind slammed into the building, howling as it rounded concrete girders. She moaned a little as the whorl of frigid air wrapped around her as she stumbled towards refuge.

Frozen fingers fumbled with the keys, shivers wracking her as she tried to stab  her key into the door lock. Why she had yet to upgrade to a vehicle with one of those electronic button locks was beyond her.

A hand closed over hers, a body pressed against her.

“Don’t fight me. You’re alone and no one will hear you anyway.”

A hand raised her skirt, baring her ass to the cold air.

“Please…” she tried to scream, but it came out a croak.

“You’ve been flaunting this ass all day. You offered, I’m taking.”

The thin strap of her panties snapped. It tickled along her clit as he tugged it free.  Cold fingers explored the slit and she squirmed. Too cold…too terrifying. She knew the voice but couldn’t place it, fear and cold-fogged brain making her sluggish. A finger gathered moisture, plunging into her pussy.

She didn’t want to be excited.

“Wet cunt. Begging to be violated.”

She shook her head but he merely laughed against her ear, his breath the warmest thing she’d felt since leaving work.

“You don’t want me to fuck this wet pussy?”

She shook her head. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be warm. She wanted…

“Okay. I won’t fuck your pussy then.”

The finger slid backwards, and pressed up against her anus.


Too late, sunk up to a knuckle, she felt herself rising to her toes to avoid the piercing of her rectum. He pushed up, wiggling his way deeper.

“Needs a bit of stretching…”

In, out, up, around, his finger fucked and circled, pulling and tugging at the tight little hole. As fast as it had gone in, it was gone.

As fast as she could sigh in relief, there was a thicker, firmer pressure against her backside.

“NOOOO!” she yelped, but the sound was snatched away by the wind, even as the flared head plunged upward, breaking wide the tight barrier, and filling her ass with cock.

A hand fisted in her hair, tugging her neck back, further back, arching her spine, opening her for his rapid pounding. Her hips and belly pressed against the bitter cold metal of her car as her ass was heated by the thick shaft drilling her behind. She could almost see him…

He pulled out of her bum like pulling a ripcord during free-fall; quick and violent.  Spinning her around, he pushed her to her knees on the freezing, dirty concrete, his hand tugging at her hair.

Her mouth opened as she squealed in pain, then gagged around the dirty cock shoved between her spread lips.

“Suck it, drink it, clean it.”

His voice was as dark as the night, as cold as the wind, as he plunged into her mouth, filling her with thick rivers of cream tinged with the tang of poo from her ass.

Gagging, choking, he nonetheless held her mouth on him until it was swallowed.

“Good girl.”

Taking the car key from her, he unlocked the door, then guided her to the passenger seat.

“I’ll drive tonight.”




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”.