Tag: anal sex

To be owned…

Warning – This fictional story is about the breaking of a slave by a sadist via brutal bondage, sensory isolation, bodily function control, humiliation and kinky, rough sex. I’m really Pushing Limits with this one. Read it anyway… Let me know if you think I should continue it.

Day One

Her anxiety pulses through her body like ice water. Her trembling limbs are stretched in all directions by unforgivingly cold, iron shackles. Her eyes water beneath the weight of a heavy, wool hood strapped in place by a gag which presses her jaw open, just to the point of discomfort. She struggles to swallow behind the large ball held firmly between her teeth. She had consented, even begged for this experience, but her mind now bubbles with concern.

She hears nothing, the silence is intense. She knows he must still be there, as he promised not to leave her in bondage, ever. And she believed him. She trusts him.

Slowly, she tries to calm her breathing with that thought. I trust him.

It does not soothe the fear that now erodes her sense of self, though. If this is a mistake, she’ll never know. Because in the end, she will be forever changed. She knows that, and exhales a long, cathartic breath.

Suddenly, she feels his presence, and closes her eyes blindly as it washes over her like warm bathwater. Odd that she would feel relief in his proximity, knowing that he may do unspeakable things to her today. He hadn’t told her his plans, so the anxiety remained, only diluted by the hope of his tenderness. Though, she is sure what she will experience in the beginning will lack any tenderness.

Lying beneath his open gaze, she wonders if he will speak. What he might say. What his voice will sound like. What he will expect. Her heart races as her patience begins to wither. Will he simply keep her like this and watch her all day? Will it be like this every day?

The time spreads out through her. She twitches at every change in the air pressure. She flinches at every tiny sound. Is he still here? Perhaps her sense of his presence is incorrect. But that would mean he’s broken his promise…

In the cold darkness, she pulls at her restraints to hear some sort of sound. She can’t seem to fill her lungs fast enough. The hood feels like it weighs a hundred pounds but she shakes her head to see if it will shift so that she might see even a fraction of light. It won’t, the strap pressing the wet, rubber ball against her tongue holds it securely in place. The lump in her throat grows as her mind furiously spirals into a state of panic.

What if he has left? What if he’s driven away and gotten into a car accident? What if he’s had a heart attack and is dying in the corner of this garage as she lies here completely immobile and helpless? What if she dies like this?

Her sobs begin to echo through the dead silence. She tries to call out for him, desperate for any change in the stillness. She chokes on her efforts, pulling at her restraints and retching, almost screaming, until she exhausts herself completely. She knows none of these actions will change anything, and finally resigns herself to be still. I must trust him.

Time passes. The air seems to get colder for a fraction of an instant. But maybe it’s her imagination. She senses him again, though she doesn’t hear or feel anything. Her heart begins to race as his presence draws nearer. Chills break out across her naked flesh and she is oddly, very suddenly aware of her undress.

She hears a click, like that of a light switch, and then feels warmth wash over her skin. Her mind prickles with a different fear. Is it just him? Would he invite others to join him? She’d never asked. She should have asked. What if a stranger is watching her? No, I trust him. That trust is all she has.

“You need water. Do not speak.”

His voice is low and cool as his fingers lift her head and unbuckle the strap quickly. He holds a bottle to her lips and she tries to swallow as quickly as possible. It feels as though she’s been like this all day, and as she drinks, she realizes how thirsty she was. She desperately wants to ask him how long it has been and if he left her alone. But after pulling the empty bottle away, his fingers wrap around her throat.

“Your little fit earned you nothing. You’d be smart to remember that.”

Before she can even process his words, he presses the ball of the gag back into her mouth and buckles the tight leather strap. She feels the lump rise in her throat, the familiar feeling of unbidden tears burning her eyes. She remembers him telling her that crying is part of the process, but if she indeed, truly wants to submit, she would not struggle. Even in her fear.

Letting her tears fall, her breath exits in tiny sobs. But she doesn’t fight, she simply allows herself to feel his disappointment. Her fit was out of concern for herself, not for him. She is there to please him.

After some time, she realizes that he is still there. She isn’t sure how she knows, but she feels him. Especially when he is near her. Is he just watching her?

She has reached a state of true discomfort. Her arms and legs are pulled so tight. Her ankles and wrists feel chafed from the hard metal they are wrapped with. Her jaw aches and burns from the stress of the gag. Her eyes and nose itch beneath the hot wool that covers two thirds of her face. Her stomach is empty and she’s sure it’s angry requests for food can be heard.

And, she needs to pee. Making her bondage even more uncomfortable.

She hadn’t thought about this very human, basic need. She knew she could go only hours without water and maybe a day without food. She’d voiced these concerns ahead of time. Though, the only promise she asked him to make was not to leave her alone. What if he expected her to hold it? Or worse, relieve herself right there on his cold, wooden table?

She began flexing her toes in an effort to take her mind off it. It only helped a little.

“I’m guessing you are in desperate need of a restroom. The fact that you’ve been lying there suffering, trusting that I will take care of you is very pleasing.”

His fingers work the locks at her wrists as he speaks. During his languid trip to her ankles, his hand tweaks a nipple and slaps the other. The pain nearly makes her wet herself, but she remains silent. Scratching his fingers down her thighs, he finally releases her ankles then grabs her hand to help her rise.

She is unsteady on her feet and he uses his body to press her belly against the table edge. Directly against her bladder.

“I wonder if you can hold it while I fuck your ass.”

She begins to shake her head, but stops quickly, thinking that would be a huge mistake. She closes her eyes praying he did not notice. But of course he did.

Grabbing her by the back of the neck, he pushes her forward onto the table so her toes lift off the ground. Lying on her full bladder, she is sure her body is going to fail, and begins to cry. Determination, however, pulls her hands from beneath her to her backside, spreading her cheeks for him.

“Good. Girl.”

He rubs the tip of his erection up and down her slit. She had surpassed discomfort. Her belly aches from the pressure, and every muscle is strained. Her tears continue when she realizes she won’t be able to relax.

As he kicks apart her feet, she is able to shift her weight so the table hits above her navel. The pressure eases just enough to be tolerable but as he pushes into her, she is overwhelmed by different pain.

“Don’t piss on me. You will not like the punishment.”

She sobs as he begins thrusting into her ass. His grunts echo off the walls. She reminds herself how pleased he’ll be if she can bear this punishing fuck. Remembering his disappointment earlier fuels her eagerness. I will not fail.

As he nears climax, she chants that thought in her mind, no longer sobbing. Instead, she focuses on his thrusts and the pain they cause, to tak
e her focus off the other pain.

Upon his completion, he pulls her up with his cock still in her ass and reaches down her front to feel her pussy. To confirm she hadn’t let go.

“I didn’t think you could do it, slut…”

Pushing her back down, he pulls out of her quickly. She hears his zipper before he grabs her neck once again.

As he pushes her through a door then down onto a freezing toilet seat, she exhales waiting to hear a door close. Instead, she feels his fingers releasing the buckle of her gag.

This time, he pulls off the hood as well, and she squints until her eyes adjust to the light. He is holding a bottle of water to her lips. How is she supposed to pee while he stands there watching her, expecting her to drink.

Trust him.

She closes her eyes and tilts her chin back while forcing her pelvic muscles to relax. After several swallows, he pulls the bottle away but remains. She realizes he’s waiting for her to finish relieving herself, and her face heats with humiliation.

Forcing herself to empty her bladder as quickly as possible, she tries to cover her face with her hands. He yanks them away quickly.

“Don’t make me tie you. You will have no privacy from me. Ever.”

Tears prick her eyes again as she frowns at the notion. He had warned her several times that slaves do not have privacy. He’d even made her repeat it. How could she not realize that meant no bathroom privacy? As she realizes this means she’d also have to do other toilet related things in front of him, her cheeks flame red hot again. But she successfully fights the urge to cover her face this time.

When she finishes, he doesn’t even allow her toilet paper before pulling her up and pushing her into a tiny shower stall. Turning the faucet and pulling a small hand sprayer off the wall, she knows immediately that this too is going to be uncomfortable.

The water is so cold that it stings. She squeals before clapping her hands over her mouth to silence herself. She’s not supposed to look at him, but her eyes involuntarily shift to his mouth when she hears him chuckle, lightly. His lips are curled in a sadistic grin, but she drops her gaze before risking allowing herself to look into his eyes.

Closing her eyes and dropping her hands, she tries again to prove her submission. He turns and shifts her, spraying every inch of her body until she is shaking from the cold that has now seeped into her bones.

When he turns the water off, she stands shivering for several moments before she opens her eyes, staring at the floor.

He steps toward her, holding the water bottle to her lips again. She’s so hungry, but has no inclination that he might feed her today. She can see a few inches of night sky through the closed blind on the tiny bathroom window. And as she drains the bottle dry, her stomach rumbles once more.

She continues to shiver as she watches him twist the plastic cap back onto the empty bottle. Her tears begin anew, sparked by the complete bewilderment of what he plans to do with her at night. She was growing more and more sure that he wouldn’t allow her into his bed this night.

“I wasn’t going to feed you tonight. But I hadn’t expected you to do this well…”

His voice was hard and cool. She is so tired. Her entire body aches as she stands trembling and softly crying in front of him. He grabs a rough towel from behind her and dries her, almost harshly, showing no mercy to her over-sensitized skin.

“Maybe I should just feed you my ass coated cock.”

His growled words make her wince. But she thinks to herself, Please him.

She slowly sinks to her knees, her muscles and tendons screaming, increasing her tears. But when she reaches the floor, she spreads her legs open sitting back on her heels and opens her mouth wide. To be used.

She closes her eyes, trying to avoid his. She hears no reaction from him, but knows he’s still there. She hears the faucet flip on then off, then his fingers on the top of her head, sliding through her soaked hair before gripping her tightly.

As the tip of his cock touches her tongue, she nearly gags with the thought of what he did earlier with it. She didn’t have time to think about it too much because he was almost instantly fucking her face with such force that she was gagging, gasping and sobbing within seconds.

When his cum shoots down the back of her throat, unceremoniously, he holds her face still with both hands. She can’t breath but she can’t even lift her hands to try to push him away.

He finally pulls back and chuckles, tapping her lips

“Good girl. I’m happy you know what this is really for.”

His fingers dig into her jaw lifting her face. It hurts and her eyes flash open. She doesn’t understand the look in his eyes. But she now truly believes what she hadn’t several days before. He is indeed a sadist.

“Stand up. You deserve some food for that.”

As she tries, excited that she’s been able to please him enough to deserve a reward, her body fails her. As she falls backward onto her ass, he laughs and her face reddens once more.

She gathers all of her strength and pushes herself up to stand. She suddenly finds his arm around her waist, guiding her through the door. Her knees are so weak, as they step into the kitchen and he lets go, they fail and she’s on all fours.

“Crawl over to the table then, weakling.”

She follows his command, wondering why she is so weak. All she did was lie on a table all day. She’d expected to have been beaten, mercilessly. But it occurs to her that being beaten wouldn’t have had the same effect on her. That kind of pain she can absorb and process. What he put her through today tore at her natural defenses. That was the point.

Kneeling next to the table, she can barely open her eyes, but glances at the clock above the sink. It is only 8:40.

She lets her eyes close as she listens to him moving around. The room is filled with a delicious smell… soup or stew? When she hears him in front of her, she opens her eyes. He pulls out a chair and sits, completely naked before her. Had he undressed before.

Popping a spoonful of his meal into his mouth, he reaches down with his left hand and pinches her nipple. She looks up at him, but quickly looks back down. His legs are spread before her and his cock is beginning to harden again. From looking at her? From that one fractional second of touch?

He takes another bite then reaches for both nipples, pinching and pulling. She winces and whines quietly, but thrusts her chest into his demanding touch.

She senses his smile but the only thought swirling in her brain is, Please give me food…

He pulls her closer, tips her chin back and brings the spoon to her lips.

“You can look at me while I feed you. When you are like this, accepting and trusting, I will reward you. When you lose trust and faith in me, like you did earlier today, you’ll be treated with the same lack of respect.”

His words and voice are measured as he slowly empties several spoonfuls into her waiting, starving mouth. She watches his eyes, strangely feeling devoid of any thought other than thanking him for the meal. How could she thank him without words?

After emptying the first bowl, he pulls a glass to his lips and takes several deep draws of the Amber, iced liquid. He holds it to her lips, and she recognizes it as iced tea. After several gulps he pulls it away.

She looks down at his erection marveling at his body and it’s ability to recover so quickly. He chuckles at her wide eyes.

“Oh, you want dessert! You think you deserve it?”

Pushing a spoonful from the second bowl of stew into her mouth, his eyes are dark and possessed. Her brow creases and she lowers her eyes, shaking her head slightly.

He grunts before taking several more bites then pushing the bowl away. Staring down at her, he swallows the rest of the tea and sets the glass down slowly.

Then, in a flash, he turns her and pushes her face to fl
oor. Her arms spiral out to try to keep her steady, still on her knees, and before she even knows what’s happening, his cock is buried deep in her pussy.

With his fingers wrapped tightly around the back of her neck and digging into the flesh of her already aching hip, he drills into her, viciously, but her tears do not return.

This is what she wants. To be used… To be owned…

When he collapses on top of her, he whispers against her hair, exhausted and drained.

“Good girl.”

And the pleasure of hearing those words is beyond any other.

When he rises up off of her, she shifts back into a kneeling position.

“You can sleep right here, instead of the garage. Clean up the kitchen tonight and have breakfast ready for me by 7am. There’s bacon and eggs, I want pancakes. Understood?”

Glancing up at him, she doesn’t know how to respond. She has questions. Was she just to sleep on the floor? Couldn’t she sleep on the carpet in his bedroom, at least? What if she had to use the toilet?

He crosses his arms in front of his chest, glaring down at her, and she realizes that the last question is the only important one.

“…Sir?”

“Go on, but remember why you’re here.”

“I’m sorry, Yes, Sir. I just wondered if I’m permitted to use the bathroom…”

“If you NEED something, you may come into my room and wake me. No. You are not permitted to use the bathroom without me. But remember what we discussed about needs. And remember that I like my sleep uninterrupted.”

She almost smiles at the memory of some of their conversations in the weeks leading up to this. But finds the idea of waking him for permission to pee completely embarrassing. Better get it over with now.

“I… Sir, could you take me now?”

He arches an eyebrow and she realizes, again, she isn’t supposed to be looking at him. She drops her gaze and waits patiently for his response.

“Yes. Crawl, though. I don’t feel like watching you fumble to stand, again.”

Bending forward onto her palms, she follows him down the hall to the small bathroom. Once inside, she pulls herself quickly onto the toilet seat, her face burning with humiliation. She sits, staring at the floor, begging her body to just let go, this isn’t a big deal, everyone pees. But she’s always had a timid bladder.

He stands there, staring at her, and she can feel his frustration building. Finally, she forces the stream to start and exhales quietly in relief. Once finished, she looks around for the toilet paper, but it isn’t in the holder. She glances up at him, and watches him pull off a section from the tube in his hand. She lifts her hand to accept it, but he pushes it away and lowers to squat in front of her.

Pushing the paper between her thighs, he wipes her, drops the wad and slides two fingers inside of her, gripping her, roughly.

“This is mine. Everything it does is mine. Everything it is used for is mine. You get over this modesty and remember that.”

He pulls his fingers free and rises, leaving her achingly bereft. He washes his hands and waits. Her heart races as she lowers herself back to all fours and follows him back down the hall. When they arrive in the kitchen, he grabs another glass of tea, allowing her several swallows, before he leaves.

Watching him walk out, his words ring in her ears. This is mine.

She remembers their talks leading up to this. He’d told her that if she truly wanted to be his slave, she would no longer own her own body. Standing, shakily, she realizes how much better she feels since having something to eat. She’d love to have another bowl, or even finish the cold one sitting there on the table. But it wasn’t her stomach to fill…

Oh my… Her head was already changing. Fleeting questions pepper her mind, but she decides to concentrate on the job he’d given her.

After she finishes cleaning and prepares most of the ingredients she’ll need to make breakfast, she flips the light switch and lowers her achy, bruised body onto the spot he had told her to sleep. She curls up, trying to conserve body heat, and closes her eyes, praying she wakes at the proper time.

Sometime later, she feels him, his presence. She tries to keep her eyes closed, but she can’t help but investigate to see if her intuition is right.

He is leaning against the door frame in boxers, with his glass, staring at her. She looks up at him, jealous of the glass he’s holding, but unsure if she wishes she had the glass or if she wishes he was holding her. He pushes himself upright, strides over to her, and kneels down to press the glass against her lips.

She drinks nearly half before he pulls it away. Chill bumps sweep over her arms and legs as his thumb skims over her lips, wiping a drop of water from the bottom. And then he stands and leaves.

Closing her eyes again, she slips back to sleep with no idea at all what to expect from Day Two.

Part 2

The Drive

It’s late and we are only halfway through our drive. I’ve done my best to stay awake, but find my eyes simply won’t stay open.

I feel you look over at me before your hand slips lightly onto my bare knee. The hot humid air from outside is just barely made tolerable by the A/C and I’m grateful you told me to wear the shorter dress, even though I’m certain it wasn’t only for my comfort.

“I’m drowsy too, little girl. Stay awake and tell me a story.”

I force my eyes open and see the sleepiness in your eyes. But something else. That spark that makes me squeeze my thighs together and sigh. That expression that I simply cannot refuse.

“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, straightening myself in my seat before turning toward you. I lay my temple against the headrest and watch you, thinking about the story I might tell.

I know the kind of story you want, and my mind spins with ideas, but when your sad eyes capture mine, your gaze is like an antenna. Your story rolls off my tongue as though it had been waiting for release.

A heady mix of lust and passion with a hint of suspense and a dash of mystique bubbles up from that place deep inside me that you seem to access so easily.

I’m excited by the words I’ve woven for you. Your raspy sighs hint at your own arousal as well, and soon, your fingers skim upward from my knee, slipping beneath the hem of my cotton dress. My legs part, in their own submission to you, and I wonder if my body will ever listen to me in your presence.

As you reach the sheer fabric between my thighs, the low rumble from your throat signals your awareness of my wetness.

“Take them off, little girl. Let me see what’s mine.”

My whole body responds to your voice. Your words. Your ownership. I slowly raise my skirt over my hips and watch you suck in a breath at the sight of my sweet, lace edged panties with the satin bow in front. I slip my thumbs beneath the strings on either side and lift my bottom so that I can slide them down my now quivering thighs.

I start to leave them around my knees, but you whisper for me to give them to you, eliciting another surge of arousal from deep within me.

I tug them down, pulling my bare feet through them and fold them before placing them in your waiting hand, blushing furiously. Lifting them to your nose and inhaling deeply, the heat in my cheeks increases and I drop my chin to hide my embarrassment.

After stuffing them into your pocket, you lift my chin and growl, “So sweet, baby doll. …Now show me.”

Again, my thighs part and I lift my hem. The interior lights in the car are barely enough to see by, but my skin is clearly damp. I watch you intently. Will you tell me to touch myself? Will you reach for me? Will you simply force me to remain like this, exposed, for the rest of the trip?

You look up at my face which must give away my thoughts, because you chuckle softly and pat my knee, turning to watch the road. I let out a soft sigh and grip the edge of my dress in frustration. I try closing my eyes to quell my thoughts of taking matters into my own hands.

I may enjoy discipline, sometimes, but I don’t relish willfully disobeying you.

When I feel the car slow and turn off the highway, I lift my eyelids to look at you, but not out the window. Are you too tired to continue? Too aroused? Are you stopping for a hotel? You grin at me and nod your head toward the windshield as we stop completely.

We are looking out over a small city, on the edge of a large hill. It’s a beautiful sight, the twinkling lights off the town below us, against the starlit evening sky. The clearing is small, but we aren’t far from the highway. I look back into your eyes, “Where are we, Sir?”

You do not answer. Instead, rolling down the windows and switching off the ignition before unlatching your seatbelt and turning toward me with clear motive written all over your face. Your fingers unlatch my own belt, sliding over my belly and leaning in closely so that I can feel your warm breath on my face.

I start to pant, your proximity turning me into a bubble of desire just waiting to be popped. The night breeze blows through the car and across my naked flesh making me open myself wider.

“My little slut…” You whisper before teasing my mouth with your own while your fingers slide up and down my wet slit. I moan and arch, still gripping my hem. Your beard tickles my chin and I sigh deeply as your lips glide over my jaw.

My ass is practically off the seat as my body invites you in, to explore, to invade, but your fingers still torment, barely skimming my slick folds. “Please, Sir… More?” I whimper.

“What do you want, little girl?” Your voice in my ear sends tremors through me, before you gently nibble down my neck, the fingers of your right hand tugging down the strap of my sundress.

“Oh, please, Daddy. I don’t know…”
“That’s right, sweet girl. But, I do.”

Your teeth sink into my shoulder just as you slide two fingers inside me. “No orgasms without permission,” you growl as my muscles clench around you. How do you know? How is it you understand my body better than I do?

As you grip my pussy, with two fingers inside and your palm grinding against my clit, your mouth seems to be everywhere but where I want it. On mine. I let go of my skirt and lift my hands to your cheeks, but you pull back and give me that look. The one that makes me say, “Yes, Sir,” even when you’ve given no command.

“Tilt your seat back, then sit on those impatient fingers of yours, baby girl.”

As I obey, you pull down the front of my dress, the ruched top giving you plenty of access. I’m already moaning when your lips find my nipple, digging my fingernails into the backs of my thighs to keep my hands from wandering again.

Just when I’m sure I can’t take anymore, your lips make their way back to mine and you grip the back of my neck tightly, kissing me hard and thrusting your tongue against mine.

I feel myself teetering on the edge of orgasm when your fingers wriggle inside me and your thumb presses against my clit before circling, slowly. “Oh, God…,” I groan into your mouth and you pull back watching me.

I stare into your eyes, trying to decide if I should beg or let go, and suffer the repercussions. You smirk at me and pull your hand away. I whine and lift my ass in the air again, trying to will your return.

You kiss me again, then lean back, licking my juices off your fingers. Settling back into your seat, you unzip your jeans and pull out your delicious cock. “You cum, when I cum,” you whisper, stroking yourself lightly.

I climb onto my knees, licking my lips, not caring if I climax at all, anymore. I only want to taste you. Forever, your cum slut.

I start to bend toward your lap, but you stop me, wrapping your fingers around my throat and pulling me to your lips one more time.

After a kiss that takes my breath away, you hold me there looking behind me. “You’re being watched, pretty girl.”

As you let go, I look behind me and see a couple of young men staring at us from the tree line. They are holding beer cans, and appear to be accustomed to it, but look too young to be drinking. Clearly, this is a teenage party spot, and I look back to you for instruction.

My cheeks are blazing, as I already know what you are going to say, “How about a performance, little girl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper. I’m not sure what you have in mind, but the humiliation I feel only serves to increase my arousal. I want you to show me off, even if it is in the most embarrassing way a girl could ever imagine.

“Good girl,” you breathe, and my body convulses with those words.

You step out of the car, walking around it slowly before opening my door and pulling me out with you. The clearing is grassy, which is a relief to my feet, and very quickly to my knees, as you push me down in front of you.

You don’t acknowledge the boys at all, who are now wide eyed with mouths agape. I look up at you, while sitting on my feet, and grin, my cheeks still burning. My breasts are still exposed, as is your cock, and I’m sure neither of those young men have seen much of either.

“May I suck your cock, please, Sir?”

I smile at your grin and nod, but want you to speak. I want them to hear your Dominance.

“May I use my hands, Sir?”

“On yourself, sweet girl. While I fuck your pretty mouth.”

I lift my skirt, so they can see me slide my fingers over my bare pussy and one of them drops his beer. I slide my middle finger deep inside and moan before opening my mouth and leaning forward to press my tongue against you.

I look up at you again, sucking and swirling your head before sliding onto you and pulling back slowly as a hiss escapes your lips. I open my thighs further and moan as I deliberately release your cock from my lips and glide my tongue down your length to the side of your sac.

“Yes, baby, lick my balls,” you groan, lifting your cock up your belly and stroking it while I lathe your underside and suck each side into my mouth, lightly swirling my tongue around them.

“Fuck,” I hear one of the boys mutter as he rubs himself over his shorts. When I glance over at them, they both look aroused, but there is something different about the boy in jeans.

Gazing back up at you, I rub myself lightly and open my mouth wide as you grab the sides of my head and push yourself into my mouth. Slowly at first, but I see that you are about to do exactly what you said, and pull my hands up to your thighs.

“Pinch those titties, little girl, like I would.” As you slowly push yourself deep into my throat, I cup my heavy breasts and squeeze my nipples tightly, groaning against your shaft.

After a few long strokes, you slam into my tonsils and hold me there. I swallow, trying not to gag or gasp, and you grunt at the sensation, before pulling back and fully fucking my mouth.

When you stop, I look up at you, expectantly, all but forgetting our audience. I want your cum, and feel disappointment fall over my face until you growl, “Up on the hood, I need to fuck you.”

Oh, yes! I’ve been aching to be filled by you all day. When I don’t stand fast enough for you, you grab my arm and yank me up, against you, and I rise to my tippy toes, hoping you’ll kiss me. Show those young men that tasting yourself on your girls lips is wonderful.

You do, and lift my dress to squeeze my bare ass cheeks. Your kiss is intoxicating. I wrap my arms around your neck and you lift my bottom, so I wrap my legs around you too. You slide your beard across my neck and whisper in my ear, “Being wrapped in you is the best part of this performance, baby doll… So far.”

I smile against your cheek, and sigh with pure bliss. When you set me on the hood, you unwrap yourself and step back. I feel so exposed, my face heats up again and I start to close my legs.

“Uh-uhhh, sweet girl. Open up,” you rumble, and when I do, you slap my pussy three times. I lean back thrusting myself forward, and you growl, low and deep, “You wanna show these boys what a pain slut you are, my bitch?”

I nod at you, panting and within moments, you have my arms folded behind me, pull my dress up over my head holding them in place, and are pushing me back to lie on them. You pull my hips toward you and lift my feet to the edge of the car, so that my pussy is spread, wide open, for anyone watching.

I look back at the boys, and the one in jeans has his dick in his hand, but is just holding it, staring at us intently. The other one is vigorously working his own erection, inside his shorts, and is sweating profusely.

The first couple swats land lightly and quickly on my lips, and I feel my arousal splatter on my thighs. “You are so wet, dirty girl. Just from sucking my cock!” You rub my clit for a moment and I start to writhe. “Such a little slut, you want more?”

“Yes, Daddy, please?!”

The boy with his hand inside his pants has pulled himself free, and is grunting hard. “Hit her again,” he says softly, and you smile broadly, still not acknowledging them fully, but you pull back and smack my clit hard, making me cry out, then moan loudly as you rub me, wildly. I could cum, and think I might, but will myself to hold it in.

“More?” I know you’re asking them, so I look at them and nod my head.

The kid in the jeans is still just staring, but the other shouts, “Yeah, fuck yeah. Then fuck her hard.”

You spank my pussy until my thighs threaten to close then you thrust your cock inside me. I almost can’t pay attention to the boys, anymore. My body is losing the battle to prevent climax. I look at the boy in the jeans, hoping to distract myself, and he sees me staring.

Are you ok? He mouths, and I gasp, “Yes! Please let me cum, Daddy, please?!?!”

You don’t answer, so I look back at you, you are shaking your head no, but whisper, “Cum, baby girl. Make it look good.”

My body convulses with pleasure that I’m sure these young men could not understand. I cry out and let my voice do what it will as wave after wave hits me and shoots through me. When they turn to after shocks, I look up at you and try to fill my face with apologetic concern. You’ve stopped and are watching me.

“I’m so sorry, Sir. I couldn’t stop it!”

“You are a bad little girl,” you smile, pulling out of me, “turn over.”

I do the best I can, with my arms bound behind me, you have to help me. You pull my legs down so that my toes touch the grass, and slide your fingers across my ass.

With my cheek pressed against the hood, I look back and see the concern in the one boy’s eyes, so I say, in my sweetest voice, “Spank me, Daddy. I deserve it, I want it.”

You chuckle, and I’m sure they hear it, and can tell it is an act now. As I stare at the boys, you begin, striking me hard enough to make me flinch, but not cry out. The boy in the shorts shoots his load, and I get a strange sense of satisfaction from that.

The boy in the jeans just glares at me, hard cock in hand.

Your fingers dip between my thighs, and the pleasure closes my eyes. I want your cock inside me, and I want that boy to see that. So I beg.

As you continue punishing my ass and teasing my dripping cunt, I beg and plead for your cock and your cum. When you finally slide into me, I think I might explode, but hold it together until your thumb pushes into my ass. I come apart, my juices dripping down my thighs, and the car, and I feel your hand come down on my ass again.

I think I hear one of the boys speak. I open my eyes to see the boy who blew his wad stroking himself again. Hard again so quickly, oh, sweet youth.

The boy in the jeans is stroking himself, now. And I watch him intently while you drive deep and hard into me. You lean down over me and whisper, “You like being watched, don’t you, little one?”

Before I can answer, you pull me up by my hair, sliding out of me and spinning us, so I’m facing the boys. Completely exposed, you wrap your hand around my throat and lift me so your cock presses between my cheeks. I feel you bend your knees while gripping my hip and pushing into my ass. Filling me painfully, but blissfully.

“Cum again, for them, sweet girl.”

I’m panting with some crazy blend of discomfort and pleasure. You pull my dress off my arms, lift my left hand around the back of your neck and then glide my right hand between my thighs.

My mind is spinning, my eyes are locked with the boy in the jeans, but I’m frozen.

Until he mouths, Touch yourself.

You whisper in my ear, “Do it,” and I swim in the exotic feelings coursing through me.

I stroke myself in rhythm with my young voyeur, and he quickly catches on. Speeding up and slowing down to see what he can do. I wonder if he will become addicted to the power of this moment, and perhaps that is how a dominant is born.

When your fingers find my nipples, my eyes close, and the young man says calmly, “Open your eyes. Look at me.” Again, I start to turn to you, unsure about accepting orders from another man, but you hold my head firmly and whisper, “Do it,” again.

You begin to move inside me, and the odd sensation makes me bleary eyed, but I blink rapidly to focus on this boy whom I suddenly, and desperately want to cum for. Because you will it.

“Push a finger inside.” I do.

“Two fingers.” I do.

He tells me how to touch myself, to fuck my pussy, to lick my fingers, to pinch my nipples… And as his confidence grows, he steps closer and closer, but never over reaches.

When he’s five feet from us, I feel you tensing and he sees it, taking a step back. He looks at you and whispers, “How do I make her cum?”

I feel you smile against my ear, before you push my fingers away and say softly, but loud enough for him to hear, “If you are in command, and she feels it… If you make her feel safe and protected… If you give her your heart and she gives you her body… And she’s in the right frame of mind, you just tell her to.”

You kiss my neck and press firmly against my clit before growling against my ear, “Cum for Daddy, baby doll!”

It takes no more than that, I’m on fire from watching him and listening to you, and that fire erupts. An orgasm rips through me as you grip my pussy while thrusting yourself in and out of my ass. At the height of my orgasm, you whisper in my ear to beg for his cum.

When I don’t immediately respond, you tighten your grip on my throat, and I open my eyes to see the young man standing only feet in front of us. He’s panting and watching me, but not your fingers continuing to work my pussy or my heaving chest. He’s starting at my face.

“Beg for it, precious,” he grunts as he squeezes the head of his dick, and I suck in a deep breath. He’s a natural.

“Please, Sir. Give me your cum.”

With those words, you pull out of me, whispering, “Good girl,” and push me to my knees.

With both of you in front of me, I close my eyes and stick out my tongue, waiting for the shower. I rub my clit, already on edge just from the thought of all that fluffy, white seed. You know I’m a cum slut, and I bet you planned this, though I’m not sure how.

As the first ropes hit my chest, another climax rocks through me. I feel your cum hit my tongue and then the head of your cock. I open my eyes and look up at you, sucking and licking every drop of your essence. When I pull back, the young Dom is looking down at me with a smile on his lips.

He reaches out and strokes my hair. “Good girl.”

I smile sweetly at him before remembering the other boy and looking around for him. I see him, passed out against a tree, dick still in hand. I giggle and you both chuckle at me.

After attempting to clean me up with napkins and tissues from the car, you help me slip my dress back on, but don’t give me back my panties. I smirk at you and consider asking for them, but decide to let you play your game, hoping it means more fun when we get home. And it’s so hot and sticky, I look forward to the cool, conditioned air in the car blowing up my flirty skirt.

The young Sir starts to walk away, but turns back towards me. “Do all girls like this stuff?”

“More than you’d think. I think you’ll know, you’re a natural Dominant, Sir,” my voice drops, as I suddenly feel embarrassed.

You sit me in the car and buckle my belt for me. “You are amazing, sweet girl. Close your eyes and rest for a minute…” Kissing me and slipping your fingers beneath my dress, you grip me firmly. “This is mine, and mine alone. But what you did for that kid tonight will change the next few years, if not the rest of his life.”

I smile and blush, thinking all I did was everything you said, …and then I understand.

After talking with him for a moment and checking on his friend, who’s starting to wake, you climb in beside me.

As we pull away to continue the drive, you reach for my knee again.

“Don’t fall asleep, little girl. It’s my turn to tell a story…”

The Cabin

The Cabin by UriahGallery viz DeviantArt.com
The Cabin
by UriahGallery via DeviantArt.com

On a sweet, autumn evening, she stepped into the cabin feeling all of the amazing nostalgia of having enjoyed countless, lazy weeks there… But, she’d never actually been there before.

The smell from the old, worn wood, the large fireplace which had several logs burning, and the vague but pungent scent of the trees, shedding their leaves outside, filled her with olfactory memories of experiences she didn’t really remember. The contrasting glow within the interior against the soft light of the sunset filtering through the trees made her eyes dance around, as though she was witnessing the spirits of moments long past.

After taking in as much as she could, her eyes finally landed on her dark Prince, standing in the kitchen and staring at her as though she were a spirit herself.  She smiled at him, cocking her head to one side, the way she often did, and basked in his gaze as he made his way toward her.

His eyes glittered with that Dominant fire that made her melt into her panties. His lips curled up as though he was reading her mind, and when he stopped within mere inches of her, she felt the heat radiating from him. Her knees nearly gave as his fingers rose to stroke her cheek.

A low rumble from his throat let her know her beast was hungry for his fill.

His finger tips skimmed over her lips and down her throat where he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her against him, crushing her lips with his. Her eyes closed until she heard him growl and felt him pull away.

When she opened them, his hand slid back into her thick, silky hair, pulling her head sharply back, exposing her neck. He growled again, near her ear, before rubbing his lovely beard across her neck, nipping and sucking to her moans and whimpers.

Her knees were weakening, and he must have sensed it, because he slid his leg between hers and used his free hand to grip her bottom, meshing their bodies together firmly. She could feel his erection, and suddenly could not control her own desire.

Her hands lifted, gripping his face and pulling him into a deep kiss. Her tongue searched his mouth feverishly and her hands stroked down his body wildly. Like a bitch in heat, her lust could not be contained.

Her animalistic passion only served to ignite his further, and he began savagely tearing her free from her clothes. Once she stood in front of him in just her panties, he stepped back to take in his sweet, curvy girl. Humming, deeply before finally giving voice to their excitement.

“My lovely pet, do you recognize this place? Do you feel the connection?” His voice washed over her in that warm, intoxicating way, like sipping sweet brandy or receiving a warm, oil massage. She nearly couldn’t answer him, but saw from the power in his glare that she was expected to.

“I feel it, Sir,” she whispered breathlessly, “but I don’t understand it.”

He chuckled softly before stepping against her and slipping his fingers into her soaking wet panties. “It’s strange, isn’t it, to know a place so well, having never been?” His lips slid across her chest before he lifted one of her heavy breasts so that he might take a bite.

She cried out and watched as her gentle beast licked, sucked and nipped at her thick nipples until they were red and tender. His growls grew more and more intense until they were almost the frightening roars of a desperate beast.

When he suddenly stood back and ordered her to lay over the ottoman in front of the fire, she thought perhaps she’d done something wrong, but then remembered that she’d asked him to mark her, to solidify her submission.

She watched the flames in the fireplace licking each other, dancing in exotic ways, and nearly became hypnotized by their performance. When she finally felt him behind her, she pleaded with him softly to speak again, to tell her a story.

As he stroked her back and buttocks, pulling her panties gently down her hips and thighs, he began to tell her a lovely tale, of a girl, vacationing in the woods, but being captured and held prisoner by a mighty wolfman. The story seemed familiar, and haunting, just like the cabin. Just like him.

He knelt next to her, his breath against her ear and his beard tickling her cheek. “Now, enough stalling, little girl,” he rumbled, before standing and removing his belt. “You wanted my marks, are you ready for them, Pet?”

She inhaled a long breath, gripping the edge of the cushion before sighing, “Yes, Sir. Please…”

He waited, she guessed, for her to relax, and when the tension finally left her shoulders, the first blow landed on her left cheek. The belt was folded, but his strength was incredible. By the tenth strike, tears pricked at her eyes, but her body was filled with a warmth that nothing could compare to.

He dropped to his knees behind her, releasing the belt, but not quite finished with her welted backside. Soothing her, then spanking her, she heard the beast bubbling again under the surface. She was so excited and delighted, she couldn’t help herself.

“Please, come out and play, sweet beast! Come enjoy your toy!”

She took in the feral smile of her lover as he growled at her and began tearing off his own clothes.

He lifted her from the ottoman and pulled her against him, knee to knee, breast to chest. He inhaled her sweetly scented hair, gripping her neck tightly before releasing another growl against her ear.

What followed was nearly indescribable. He pushed her to the carpet and devoured her, bathing her with his tongue and whimpering at her sweetness. His teeth sunk into her soft flesh, forcing yelps of pain and groans of pleasure to pour from her lips, unabated. His hands seemed to find themselves everywhere, and it wasn’t long before she was begging for release.

His affirming roar sent her over the edge of oblivion, the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced coursed through her body. Her mind lost, she could only ride the waves and aftershocks until she felt him hovering above her. His lips, slick with her liquid desire, his beard filled with her sweet and musky scent, and his eyes filled with carnal need.

He lifted her arms above her head and covered her body with his own, his steel desire pressed firmly against her thighs. He growled again, kissing her hard then biting her lips. Her moans and whimpers, filled the room as she attempted to separate her legs to invite him inside her molten, wetness. He chuckled, locking her down and grinning with almost frightening satisfaction at his ability to trap her and force her to submit to his will… not her own.

Once she was still, he released her wrists. “Keep them there,” he rumbled before separating her legs and rising to his knees between them. He stared down at her, growling once again, before using his fingers to torture her nipples again only long enough to make her whine.

He lifted her feet to his shoulders and with no warning pierced her dripping slit with his rock hard cock. She cried out from the shock of it, but kept her wrists locked above her head. She stared into his eyes as he remained there, sheathed in her velvety folds, clenching around him in her desire for more. She saw the flash, and felt the change in him, as he unlocked the chains that kept the beast in check.

And all was lost. The atmosphere in the room changed. The darkness came alive with the passion of inhuman fucking. He hammered into her, drilling through her, shifting her on the carpet until her head slammed into the ottoman. She gasped and panted, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control over her body, but it was useless.

When she stopped fighting, and succumbed to her powerful beast, she came, again, this time exploding with such ferocity, that it was she who roared, quaking the walls and silencing the spirits surrounding them.

He lifted her, like a rag doll, and held her against his chest. When she finally lifted her arms around him, he pulled her back slightly, grinning at her wasted expression. “My sweet bitch, I’m not even close to done with you yet.”

His intoxicating voice fed her the energy to continue, bringing a smile to her lips just before he kissed her again, with the demand that forced her to her knees, clinging to his shoulders before finally letting go again, submitting her lips… her body… her mind… and her heart to him completely.

He felt the change and growled into her mouth, “Yes, my sweet slut… The power you feed me is like nothing I ever could have imagined.”

He flipped her and took her again, but this time, piercing her ass, one hand gripping her hair and the fingers of the other digging into her ample hip. The pain was intense, but it was soon washed away with the incredible perfection of being his toy. This is what she’d wanted. What she’d always wanted, but could’ve never known.

This is what he’d wanted. What he’d always wanted. But never let himself feel.

The spirits swirled around them, delighted in their mating, and drunk from the success of bringing these creatures together, at last.

As they became fully aware of the extra presence surrounding them, it only fueled their wanton need for completion.  Her beast wrapped himself around her, grunting and seeking her final release with his fingers. She bore the weight of both of them, somehow, as the pleasure he sought fired, deep inside of her, like electricity.

She almost collapsed as it seared through her body before lifting her beyond any experience she’d had in her life. But then, as she felt her Love’s climax, pulsing and filling her with his seed, the experience exploded into something ethereal.

As they fell, he spun her and pulled her into his chest. Their breathing slowed as they stared into one anothers eyes, unsure if they should speak about what was around them.

He pulled her closer so that his lips were pressed against her ear, “Are you making this magic, My Love?”

“No Sir. It is magic for both of us. From both of us.”

As he pulled back and stared into her eyes, she wondered if perhaps she was being a silly, little girl. Believing in magic and spirits. Feeling the reality of that unexpected extra presence in a way that she simply could not explain.

But what she saw in his eyes was the explanation. There were not words to accompany it. And the warmth of that which surrounded them embraced them tightly, for a moment, before disappearing and leaving them with only their own warmth.

“It’s gone, Sweet girl.” His voice lacked the confidence of his words.

She looked around the room, at the fire still dancing, but smaller, at the walls which had seemed alive earlier, and inhaled the amazing scent of that cabin, now mixed with the pleasant fragrance of their love. She smiled and brushed his handsome beard with the tips of her fingers.

“I don’t think so, Sir. I think it will always be here, between us… within us.”

As his lips brushed hers, and that lovely rumble filled his chest again, she sighed and absorbed the moment. “Would you tell me another story, Sir? I want to be wrapped in your voice all night.

“Forever.”

The Beast

You stand and stare at me, I can’t take my eyes off you. Up on your desk, ass in the air, cheek pressed against the edge. You’ve lashed my wrists to my ankles with cord, my knees folded beneath me, breast smashed into the cold wood. You stand and stare. Thinking. Deciding. Smirking.

Your fingers skim over my face, then across my shoulder and down my back. I sigh and tremble as they reach my bottom. I wish for a moment that I could climb inside your mind, but then, those lovely fingers dip between my thighs, sliding over my swollen, sensitive folds. I lose my thoughts, almost completely.

You pull away too quickly, and I whimper at the loss. “Shhh, kitten,” you breathe, suddenly right next to my ear. I feel your breath on my neck and your beard on my shoulder, and I have to force myself to be still, despite the tremors that run down my spine.

“My Pet, you look so lovely like this, I may have to leave you here as decoration. But first, I should color that beautiful derrière.” Sliding a long, acrylic ruler out of your desk, you skim the edge over my skin. I almost beg for you to use your hand, but stop myself, because I don’t care what you use. Just hit me.

The first crack of the plastic on my flesh barely hurts, but as you situate yourself and begin layering the strikes, the warmth and sting grows so that I’m flinching with each blow. It’s still not quite pain, it is incredible. My breathing is erratic but I haven’t made a sound, so you lean down, brushing your fingers over my lips forcing my tongue to peak out to taste them.

You smile at my desperation, “My pet, you are a dripping mess. I’m tempted to clean you up with MY tongue!” I convulse, but close my mouth to keep myself from begging you, knowing that would never work. You chuckle and let your hands glide down my back again.

Setting the ruler aside, you let your palms wander, over my skin, making every nerve ending in my body stand at attention. One hand reaches beneath my belly to stroke upward, between my breasts, as I try to rise slightly so that I may feel your fingers on my nipples. But your other hand keeps me pressed against the table as I quiver and clench, desperate for your attention in places you are vehemently ignoring.

The tease is the part I hate to love and love to hate. It kills me and makes me want, even more, to plead with you, to lick me, touch me, suck me, and fuck me. But you told your kitten to be quiet, so I must.

Instead, I pant and writhe. I try to will you with my mind. I think about being inside of yours and controlling your actions. Alas, I’m not that powerful.

By the time your hands reach my backside again, I’m arching and whimpering, no longer able to keep myself from making those little noises you appreciate so much. I hear your rumble, as your fingers finally slip between my legs again, and you feel the incredible wetness you always pull from me. Suddenly, your tongue replaces your fingers, and I feel that I’m already perched on the edge of delirium.

“Yessss,” I hiss, and am rewarding with the vibration of your growl against my clit. You are lapping away at me like a puppy licking a steak, and I realize I may not be able to hold back, when you slide a finger up through my juices and into my ass. “Oh, God, Sir, Please!  May I cum please, Sir, please!”

“Not yet, sweet girl, not yet,” you whisper, before your tongue slips back down to tease my throbbing clit. I whine and work my hips, tightening my muscles to keep the waves inside. They threaten to explode, but whatever thin force field I am able to contain them in works. You slow your assault, sensing my determination to obey you, but then bite my ass and it’s almost too much.

“Please…..” I breathe, arching up, trying to pull away, but this only earns me a smack followed by three fingers thrusting into me wildly.

Your fingers work at me until I feel another slide into my ass and I cry out at the pain of the added fullness.  “I can’t stop it…. I can’t stop it, Sir…”

I push my body past its breaking point, trying, and failing, to prevent my climax from leaking out of me like water bubbling through a clogged water fountain. “Don’t do it,” you roar, but that only acts as a catalyst. My soft climax suddenly bursts open into a gushing, rocketing explosion. I scream, as it tears through me, and groan as it washes over me, raining aftershocks throughout my system like sparks from some massive electrical fire.

Suddenly, you are on the desk with me, stretching me open with your amazing cock, and hammering away at me like an enraged beast. “More, bitch, or I’ll rip them out of you while you scream and beg me to stop!” You sound like an animal, and my body simply does what it’s told.

As you ram away at my cervix, like you’re trying to drill into my womb, I begin to convulse again, the walls of my sweet, hot cunt gripping you to the point you cry out and pull away.  You flip me, painfully, onto my back, my limbs still tied and my body still jolting from my last orgasm.

You lift my ass and position your huge cock at my puckered, second opening, smiling at me as you start to push inside. It’s more than I’m prepared for, the pain is unbelievable, and I beg you to stop. Pressing your thumb into my slit, you begin working me back up, while the head of your dick rests just inside my ass. I bear down against you, relaxing and opening, and you begin pushing further inside.

“Fuck, please Sir, I can’t…”
“You can, and you will, my pet. You must.”

I look into your eyes, and find the determination that you always somehow feed me, in your control, command, and Dominance.  I breathe and relax. You stroke my clit until I’m spinning, once again, and press into me. I’m gasping, but pushing the pain away, concentrating on the pleasure and on pleasing you. Letting you fill me in this way I’ve never truly imagined.

You groan as you force your way in and the look on your face nearly sends me to the moon. “Yes, Sir, Please… More!”  You look down at me and work my pussy with both hands until I’m screaming and cumming again.

If I weren’t tied, I may have floated to the ceiling, but it is mere moments before the pain returns as you begin fucking my tight ass. Your fingers continue running over my clit until you are lost in the onslaught of your own orgasm.  You cum so hard and so much, I think I can actually feel it leaking out, around you.

As you stop, you look down at me, breathless, and I desperately wish you would kiss me. But before you do, the beast inside of you growls, “One more, slut.”

You slide out of my ass and ram three fingers deep into my pussy, pushing against my G spot while your other hand concentrates on my abused, little button.  My body is like your instrument, and just as I think I’m going to pop, your hand leaves my clit and wraps tightly around my throat. “Cum for me, and I’ll let you breathe again, Pet.”

Gasping and writhing, I realize how much I’ve wanted this for so long. The orgasm that rocks me seems to actually start in my throat, and as my pussy clenches your fingers and you release me, the flood of oxygen only serves to magnify the results.  I’m shaking so hard, you wrap your fingers around my neck again, not cutting off my air this time, but holding me steady, and I ride two minutes of pure bliss.

When you finally release me, and begin untying the cords, I want your lips on mine so badly, I lose all sense of restraint. “Please kiss me, Sir, pretty, pretty, please, with a fucking cherry on top!” You smile at me and chuckle, pulling loose the last knot and stretching me out before lying on top of me and capturing my face between your hands.

“My sweet, little mess.” Your lips hover over mine and I’m breathless, waiting for the contact. When you finally relent, our mouths mold together like some incredible, soft and languid puzzle. Your tongues dances around mine and I pull my arms and legs around you, surrounding you and filling you the only way I possibly can.

I feel myself slip into your mind, and I see myself there. As I’ve always been. Beautiful and serene, my skin glitters with light and magic. My hair flows around me like spun silk and butterfly wings. My eyes twinkle in all of their turquoise splendor. And I sit, softly stroking the beast, who I cannot see clearly. Taming him, …for the moment. “I’m the reason he exists. He will not harm me. But he will try. And you will love it.”

I stare at her. At myself. At you, and your beast. And as I slip back out of your mind, and you stare into my real eyes, I feel joy I’ve never known. “Please don’t ever stop trying,” I whisper. “I adore that dark, dangerous beast.”

White Beast by Eibo Jeddah via DeviantArt.com
White Beast by Eibo Jeddah via DeviantArt.com