a reminder to you all — this is fantasy, do not try this at your neighbors house. ty



The day had sucked. Big-fucking-time. Everything had gone awry, from the coffee that she’d dropped on the subway platform, to the report that she’d printed out to page 4, which skipped page 5, 9, and 11, and then her printer decided to upright die on her. She’d cussed some at that, then handled it.

She always handled it.

She missed the subway car by five seconds, thanks to Grab-ass Frank, who had blocked her in her office with some long-winded story as he looked down her blouse. And while part of her had been naughtily appreciative that he’d been leering at her, part of her was just impatient to go home. Her feet still smelled of this mornings latte, she had sweat through her deodorant in her panic of losing the fucking report…and she just wanted a shower, a glass of wine, and her dildo.

At long last she’d keyed open her door. Dropping her gear inside the door on the small bench, she hung the keys on the hook, else she’d never find them in the morning, kicked off her shoes, and began discarding clothing as she headed for the shower with the same greedy need that she might have shown a lover.

She didn’t notice that her apartment door had swung shut so slowly that the tongue caught on the edge of the faceplate and didn’t slip into the hole.  Mrs. Murphy across the hall might have noticed, but her cat tried to run between her legs as she left, and she was in a flurry of panic, chasing him back inside, before quickly shutting the door. Scurrying down the hall, she patted her hair to assure that her bun was in place before heading to the market.

Once an old factory building, there were now many apartments in each wing of the old brick business. Each had different elements, either a large open concept, or picture windows to view the city below, or multi-level lofts. Maintenance circulated through the building, attending to a variety of essential chores, but no one passing to and from their own units noticed that the door of B-41 was ever so slightly ajar.

He was a visitor to the area, meeting with clients nearby. His buddy lived in B-building, and  since old Mike had finally tied the knot and  was away on his honeymoon, he’d very kindly let his friend use his apartment. Mike was probably fucking his hot wife right now, he mused, looking out the window. Almost immediately he’d noticed the woman with the business suit moving briskly across the parking lot, and as luck would have it,  into his building. Holy fuck, she was hot. He wondered how big her tits were under that suit. Her legs were long, or maybe it was just the heels.

When she came inside, he figured he’d lost her, but by peering out the peephole, he could see her come into view. Then stop, just diagonally across the hall from where he was leering at her. Well, wasn’t that lucky. And didn’t she have a fine fucking ass under that skirt? He watched her shove the key into the lock, turning it. Just like his cock wanted to shove into her hole…

“Stop,” he admonished his rising cock. “Just stop.”

But there she went, pulling off her jacket as she entered. He caught the faintest hint of tit. As the door swung shut, he caught a glimpse of her hands working at the back of her skirt, unzipping it. It shut, but  he noticed that it didn’t close tightly behind her. There was a thick shadow where there should have been a thin one. Holy fuck. Her door was open and she was getting naked. His cock lurched.

“Down boy,” he said, but his tone lacked conviction and his shaft continued firming.

“It would only be neighborly to go and shut that for her,” he said. As if by saying it aloud he could get the image out of his mind of her ass molded by her pencil skirt. As if he could talk his cock into relaxing. As if he wouldn’t hope to get a peek at her naked body as he shut the door…after maybe bumping it open by accident.

Before he could leave the apartment,  however, the elderly lady from down the hall came into view. She was making little squeaky noises, and he watched an enormously fat black and tan cat waddling down the hallway. She chased after it, catching the portly beast and berating it as she carried it back to her apartment. He waited for her to disappear down the hallway. Finally the corridor was clear, and he slipped out.

His hand was on the knob but somehow he “accidentally” pushed it open. He saw the scattering of clothing, the briefcase, the purse piled on the seat next to the door. He could hear the rushing whoosh of the shower.

His cock became rock.

Peeling off his teeshirt, stepping out of his pants, he couldn’t believe what he was about to do. He was going to go rape a woman in the shower, and the thought drew a pearl of pre-cum onto the head of his rampant erection. He shut the door behind him, and locked it. Quietly, he followed the sound of streaming water and paused for a moment in appreciation.

Her shower was spectacular. No door, just a wide open, tiled box. There were 4 heads, all in full use, the room steamy.  It was about to get steamier.

He almost groaned at the sight of her perfect white ass. She was bent at the waist, her head being pounded by a waterfall of hot water. Her hands were tangled in the long wet mass of her hair which was pooled on the floor by her feet. Shampoo suds were everywhere, the floral scent heady.

His cock lined up with her ass-split as he stepped silently behind her.


The water streamed over her. The pounding of the hot water on her aching head and neck was such a relief to the tight muscles that had turned into knots of pain. Her fingers massaged her scalp as she folded in half, letting the heat and moisture soothe her.

She was almost purring with the pleasure of the shower when a hard object was thrust into her vagina.

“Don’t stand up.”

A foot kicked her legs apart, and stood on her hair. She could not stand even if she wanted to.

“What…who are you…what are you…no…noooo…stop…”

“I’m fucking you. That should be kind of obvious. Your cunt was right there begging for this. You were flashing it, and my cock found it. My cock likes it. Your cunt is hot, and tight, and so very, very wet.”

He withdrew, then slammed back into her. He didn’t intend to be so merciless, but the circumstances made him feel like William the Conqueror or something.  A rotten super hero, maybe, Captain Fuckman. He drove into her again, enjoying the squeaking noises she made each time he slammed ruthlessly into her. And gods, her pussy was so fucking juicy. And hot. The heat inside of her was amazing. He’d never fucked a cunt so hot before. He figured the heat of the shower had something to do with it, but by damn, her cunt was getting slick.

“You like being used this way, you little whore, don’t you?”

“no! NO!”

She tried to shake her head, to move, but she was trapped, his foot curled into the long tresses. He kept punching his cock into her, and she tried to not feel herself responding. He was using her, raping her on his thick hard shaft. Her pussy ached at the abuse. That’s what it was, just the pain of being used.

He fucked her harder, his hips driving into her so quickly that her knees nearly buckled. His fingers held her hips, pulling her back to meet his thrusts, as his cock began to tickle, as the tightness grew in his balls.

“I’m gonna come in you. I’m going to blow my entire fucking wad up into your cunt. My baby juice is going to fill you up. My swimmers are going to race up your tight cunny, looking for that magic egg. You’ll be a momma this time next year. I’ll watch you pushing a stroller through here, and think about swinging by for another bang of your cunt, and drink some milk out of your big titties. Won’t that be fun?”

“Noooo,” she moaned but it was far too late for struggling. He held her impaled on his cock, driving the spurting tip deep into her belly, shoving the thick ropes of his jizz into her deepest tunnel. She knew, in that moment, that he had fucked a baby into her.

Still hard, he pulled away from her cunt, and rammed his way into her ass. Her scream as he broached her anus made him quiver, made him powerful.

“Take it up the ass, you cunty whore. Right up your ass pipe…”

He groaned, the head of his cock tender despite his hardness. A wash of sensations poured over him; her silent struggle to fight the entry of his dick into her ass, her butthole gripping tightly as if to keep him out.  With the tight ring of muscle squeezing on him like a fist he knew he was going to cum again. One hard push, he knew would do it. He pumped hard into her before the last of his cum was drained from him. He moaned to the feeling of her ass struggles, to her screaming that he was ripping her ass apart. He exulted in this final violation of her body. He was William the Conqueror, and he now owned this whore’s body. With a shaking quiver, the last of his seed spurted from him, into the ass that he now claimed as his.

“I own you now, slut.” He grabbed a fistful of hair, and pulled her upright. “I’ll be back next year to visit you…” He bit her bottom lip, “…and my son.” He then kissed her hard before pushing  his fingers into her slick pussy, fingering her roughly. She moaned, then came hard in his palm.

“Slut. Fucking dirty rape-whore.”

He pushed her to the floor.

“Stay there,” he said firmly.

In moments he was gone. He closed the door behind him as he dashed across the hall clad in his boxers and tee. Before heading to the shower, he asked his phone to remind him to return here for a visit, same time next year.

“I’ve set a reminder to suck the tit-milk of your babymomma on October 16, 2018,” replied his phone is a cheery voice.

Ah, technology. Wasn’t it great?!

Setting the phone aside, he locked the door, then disrobed and walked naked to the shower, whistling.



P is Fun. (But is Pee better?)

Yes. I was. I was going to write a blogpost about pee. Because for a long time (and perhaps sometimes still) I had a fantasy/fetish about being peed upon. It’s gross, and it’s hot. It’s nasty, and it’s degrading…and it’s hot.

But I can’t truly get past the whole “piss in the mouth” thing. That, my friends, is a fetish killer for me. It’s not for others, so this is NOT a judgement, it just hits my own “squick factor” button. If I am watching a clip of piss play it turns me on. If it develops into piss drinking or piss in the mouth, *click*, I’m done. Maybe it’s because I’m the mom of boys, but whatever is the baseline, it’s just so not my thing.

So today’s P word can’t be piss, no matter how hot it is (clever double-entendre notwithstanding!).

I ponder some more, throwing P-words through my head like flash cards. Putrid. (uhm. No.) Pink. Labia. Still, no.) Push. Pull. Pucker. n…ow wait a second.

There’s  a word I can get behind. Pucker.

Pucker up for a kiss.

And yanno what else?

Your butt has a pucker too.

*laughs naughtily*

Yeah, yeah, so does mine but we’re talking about your butt here, not mine. That funny little puckery target. The dark-ringed tunnel of depravity. The bung-hole of unearthly delights. The perverted dipping well.

Oh baby fuck that ass!

Yes. I’m not a fan of anal. I know, it sounds like plausible deniability, doesn’t it?

She hates it unless she’s gettin’ it.

Yes. It’s true. I do.

But we’re talking about your asshole.  Remember? How vulnerable does it feel just now, now that I’ve drawn your attention to the susceptibility of that tight sphincter? Are you tightening up your thighs, your cheeks? Shifting a little bit in your chair? You are, aren’t you?!  I’m sure you’re sitting there feeling all protected. Your butt cheeks tightly clenched, protecting that dark rosebud of nefarious pleasures. But you know how easily accessed that spot is when you’ve been grabbed by a hunk of hair, thrown over a chair arm, the back of the couch, a bed, your pants yanked down roughly. No, your tightly clenched muscles are no match for the one who is planning on taking that ass, on lubing that passage with a quick spit of saliva, and a satisfying hard thrust to plunge, bowels deep, into your gut.

It’s not all that different from needing to take a dump, is it? (I told you. I live with boys!)

Oh, nothing really can match the feeling you have when you take a really satisfying poop, right? That fullness, semi-painful, followed by that sensual pleasure as it slips out of you, as your anus closes tight after stretching so far. So far.

It felt good.

It does feel good.

The in and out of fucking that tight hole? Well, it too feels good. There are so many sensitivity points along that quivery, muscular tube. Tied up in the physical feeling is the emotional: that feeling of being violated, of being forces, taken and filled in a dark and perverted way. The feeling of being obscenely stretched, of being used, fully. Then too, there are his groans, ones of pleasure. He has captured and taken his victory over you. His groans are the culmination of the pleasure of the hunt, and the pleasure of your hot, tight asshole. You know that while you’re struggling, your rectal ring is milking his cock, a tight band like a small fist around his shaft as he pumps into your so-very-tight hole. It’s an amazing sensation. It hurts, and yet when the rubbing gets intense, as he’s raping your asshole frantically, the spark ignites within your yearning pussy. It’s weeping for his cock, wanting to be full of him, waiting to be pounded into oblivion, but that thick man-meat is not thinking wet cunt, it’s thinking hot, tight ass.

As you come, as your empty, wanton pussy tightens and juices flow, so too does your ass tighten. He’ll groan louder, pound you harder. Your rectum will begin to burn and hurt, yet your empty cunt will weep even more to be the one he fucks.

You crave it.

Crave the pain. Crave the yearning for your cunt to be used as he’s using and destroying your ass. Crave the thick strands of his come to be filling your aching, empty pussy, instead of the deep abyss of your bowels.

He’ll make you hold it. No shitting this gift out, he’ll say. He’ll want to watch it ooze out of your now-stretched hole in it’s own time. You’ll fart from all the air he thrust inside of you, and you’ll be embarrassed when he teases you about it. If you’re lucky he’ll like your sopping cunt enough to finger you, or lick your throbbing clit until you come apart one last time.


*pauses, takes long breaths*

Pucker up, pussycat.








sometimes you have to write when you get the chance to write…it’s short, but it’s been in my head for days…

addendum #2…I just found this in my archives, half-finished from October 2016.  I really needed to finish this, you know, because. Because….well, sometimes one is just in the mood for a good hard fuck. Am I right? 😀 ~nilla~

The note was on the floor in front of the mat. She knew what she had to do.  Go to the mat and sit.

She sat. Settled herself. Wriggled. Settled again. She picked up the note.

close your eyes

She closed her eyes. But wait! How was she supposed to do all the instructions if she couldn’t freaking read them?? Her eyes popped open.

yes. I said close your eyes. But read all the directions first, slut. Sometimes you’re too quick to obey…do one thing, and do it fully. Read. Process. Then follow the damned instructions.

She could hear his voice, the mix of wry humor and a dash of annoyance. A smile played across her lips, before she continued reading.

Close your eyes. Breathe. Slowly, for five minutes. When the time is up, you’ll hear a chime. Behind you will be a blindfold. With your eyes closed, and only by putting your hands behind you–and by being as still as possible–find the blindfold, then put it on. Hands palm up on your thighs, and settle into your breath.

“Master, the yogi,” she whispered softly. He often compared submission to meditation, and had apparently set up today’s playtime to illustrate that.

More play, less omh, she thought, disgruntled at the thought of what she was missing. She needed to be fucked, dammit! Orgasms! Many wonderful orgasms! His hands on her, oh how he delivered pain to her ~ and oh, how her body sang with each pounding beat. That moment when her heartbeat marched to the same rhythm of his hand? There was nothing to compare.

She sat, breathing, eyes closed. Remembered that when thoughts flowed in, she was to gently push them away, like little words encased in bubbles. The chime startled. Had it been five minutes…and wait a damned minute.

Shit! The blindfold part. She reached behind her. Nothing. Trying to be as still as possible while searching for something that was behind you with your eyes closed? Just about the most ridiculous thing. Like, ever. A small growl of frustration escaped her.

“Growling isn’t very meditative.”

His voice came from right in front of her. She jumped a mile. Her mouth opened as she prepared to yell, but his finger pressed against her lips, silencing her. The blindfold settled over her closed lids.

“Good slut.”

The praise warmed her, even as her pussy throbbed in need. The tap on her mouth made her open; the ball gag was big, really huge. Her jaws were stretched wide as could be to accommodate the girth of it. How this was at all sexy and appealing to him was a mystery. Senses fine-tuned, she could smell the musky scent of him. How she longed to break posture and wrap her arms around his knees, press her face into the junction of his thighs, inhale deeply the hot fragrance of his crotch. She longed to lick his cock, to run her lips over the curves and lines of his shaft, to feel him grow strong and hard on her tongue.

He stepped away. Though he was silent, the heat and smell that read as “Master” had dissipated. Feeling her mouth fill with saliva, she burned with embarrassment as she felt it slip into the holes of the gag, anticipated the feeling of the first spattering of her own spit on her tits. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

He was nearby, she was sure of it. The knowledge that he was looking at her, kneeling there, blind and gagged, with spit drizzling onto her body as she struggled with the need to move, to wiggle, to wipe away the now cold ooze made her uncomfortable; yet the knowing also made her hot. She felt a different sort of dripping along her left ankle, and knew that her cunt was also drooling for his cock.

Her knees ached. Her back felt stiff. Her nipples grew hard as the air moved around her nakedness.

“Come here. Crawl.”

How did he know she was so close to breaking? He was a freaking dominant genius, that was how. She followed the direction from where his voice came, crawling on all fours like the slutty beast she was, until she bumped into his leg.

“Turn around, forehead on the floor.”

Which meant her ass and cunt would be on full display. Egads, how she loathed this part. It was hot, that she did it because he demanded it of her, but it embarrassed her no end. To have him staring at her ass, her asshole. It was humiliating, and hot. It was always a shock, his fascination with her anus.

His fingers slid up her pussy, flicking her clit, diddling at the entry of her fuckhole. Her moan was loud as his fingers teased along that hot, slick opening.

“You’re hot and wet here, whore. Tells me you want something stuck in here. Tells me  you want a good fucking. Is that true? Is that what your cunt is saying to me?”

“assssss errrrr” She mumbled around the gag.

The fingers slid easily inside of her. The sound was a moan of pure pleasure, her back arching to encourage him ‘more’. She wanted his violence. She wanted to be used in the most brutal  of ways.

fuck me, hard. use my cunt. rape it, abuse it, slap it, make me…”

She moaned, losing focus on her thoughts as he plunged his fingers deeper. The sound when he pulled out was one of disappointment and loss. She needed it! Needed those incredible fingers. Until one by one they popped into her ass. She squirmed, groaning. She wasn’t a fan of anal, yet it drove her crazy. Her pussy began to ooze steadily, an orgasm building in her belly. Her ass began to hurt, painfully stretched by his big fingers in her hole. He shoved them in, tugged them out, the roughness of the assault only adding to the fire in her cunt. She was close, so close to an orgasm.

He stopped.

His fingers pulled out of her throbbing rectum, wiped across her ass.

“Turn around.”

She had no idea which way ‘around’ was.  She rose, her forehead feeling like a mold of the wood floor, trying to find the right place to be. His fingers closed in her hair, tugging her forward. She felt the fine fabric of his work slacks, smelled the fine scent of his cock.

“You want this?”

He slapped her cheek with his semi-hard shaft. She nodded, her nose turning left, right, seeking. The gag was released; she gulped breath, trying not to groan at the feeling of all that spit on her face. The bouncing of the ball was her only clue that he was ready, until his hands grabbed her head and rammed his cock into her mouth. He fucked her mouth as roughly as he’d fingered her ass.

Gods! How she loved how hard he used her!

It didn’t matter that she gagged as he grew longer, harder, thicker. It didn’t matter that her hair was pulled, her cheeks squeezed tight, that her nose was filled with male crotch hair, even though it smelled of pee. She focused on the velvety sensation of his cock coming to life in her mouth.

He pulled out of her mouth.

“I’m going to fuck the holy shit out of you, slut.”

With that, he fell on her, slamming her back to the floor, his body weight pinning her, as his cock unerringly found its way into her slippery cunt. His pants were below his thighs, the zipper scraping along the inside of her leg, and still she whined for more, harder. His body slapped against her, into her, the roughness of his hands using her tits as handles as he drove fiercely. Her cunt screamed, leaking juices like a squeezed lemon. It was rough and hard and with every thrust she could feel her body gearing up to explode. When the fingers from one hand slid between them, found her clit and pinched it hard, she arched, letting him drive deeply into her core. She screamed as she bucked under him, the shock of the pleasure so intense that she didn’t need the blindfold to keep her in the dark.


She awoke in the dark alone. He’d stayed longer than usual, using her again and again until, when she fainted the last time, from the pain and the bliss, he folded her up in his arms and tucked her throbbing body in bed. She glanced at the clock. Uncannily, she’d woken just minutes before her alarm went off. Her body throbbed as she rolled to her side to get up. Her ass and pussy ached, her arms and tits and legs all carried a varying degree of ouchies.

It was going to be a good day.



Teacher Meeting

She hurried down the corridor, the scent of “school” jogging her memory of passing through these same hallways as a younger version of herself. Now instead of an armload of books, she toted a briefcase. Instead of fashionably torn jeans and heels, she wore a nicely tailored suit and sensible heels. Instead of running late to class, she was running late to a meeting with her son’s math teacher. How she hated school, still. As she approached room 235, down at the far end of the corridor, the classroom door opened and a couple came out. The woman was biting her lip, and the man wore a fierce scowl. As they passed her, she heard him mutter, his tone aggrieved,  “I told her to spend more time on her algebra than at the mall buying bras.”  The woman embarrassed “hushshshshs” made her grin. Stepping up to the door, the grin faded, replaced by a straightening of her shoulders as if girding herself for war. In a way, perhaps she was. Taking a calming breath, she stepped inside.

The room was full of student life, papers on the walls, notes on the chalk board, and the impressively huge teacher desk at the front of the class. The man seated behind it was busy writing in a large notebook, ignoring her. She stepped deeper into the room, clearing her throat. Still he didn’t look up.

“Erm…excuse me, Mr. -”

His head lifted and he barked out a terse “you’re Gregory’s mother,” interrupting her. She swallowed. Why did teachers still make her feel like she was in 8th grade, fighting zits and boredom with equal fervor? His quelling stare made her realize that he was still waiting for her reply.

“I…yes. I’m  Anna Williams, Gregory’s mom.”

“He’s struggling with algebra this semester.”

“It’s not his forte, no. He’s try–”

“No, he is failing to pay attention in class. His brain seems to be located in his penis, his attention has been focused on another student in my class, one with an impressive set of pectoral growth.”


“Tits. He is fascinated by them. Not that they aren’t impressive, to be sure, but in my class, his attention should be on X’s and Y’s and not C cups.”

She blinked. Had she ever had a teacher be so incredibly blunt before?

“Come, sit.”

He pointed to the chair directly at the side of the desk. It was a power position, she noted, one that she’d often employed at her job. It made her spine straighten, her lips thin as she took note of his game. Moving to the front of the desk, standing tall, she defied his nod towards the chair. A very faint smile crossed his lips. If she hadn’t been glaring at him, she might have missed it. His gaze traveled from her face, dropping slowly down the full length of her, pausing on her own impressive rack. The smile widened, just a fraction, then slipped away. His finger tapped the planbook in front of him.

“Your son has scored moderately well on tests, usually missing a decent grade by a simple misstep.”

It took her a moment to focus on the words. The very obnoxious oogling had unsettled–and to her discomfiture, aroused–her. She blinked twice, her brain catching up to the words.

“So…in other words, he’s not doing poorly, but not up to your exacting standards?”

“In other words, he could be doing much better if he focused on more on algebra  and less on cleavage.  There are other things that could bring his grade up.”

“You’d allow him to do some extra credit to bring up his grade? OH, gosh, that would be wonderf-”

He interrupted.

“I didn’t say that.  Come here, Mrs. Williams.”

He pointed to the floor beside him. She frowned, annoyed that he kept interrupting her.  Fuck him! She marched around his desk, glared down at him. His hand slipped  around her waist, as he leaned forward. His head was between her tits before she could say a word.

Leaning back, he looked at her, not at all put off by her looming over him.

“Nice tits.”

Her mouth opened, closed. His hand was still around her waist.

“On your knees, now. I think you know exactly what needs to happen here to raise that grade.”

His cock was hard, she could see the outline of it against his pants. It was also enormous. The hand around her waist moved off. Cupping his hands behind his head, he leaned back, smiling a wolfish smile. Oh, there was a challenge there. She glanced back at the classroom door. It was half-open, and she could hear the janitor’s cart moving from class to class.  She gritted her teeth.

“Bastard,” she hissed, before dropping her briefcase on the chair, shrugging out of her jacket.

“Lose the shirt, the bra.”

It felt like she was stripping off her armor, kneeling there topless, defenseless without her “Bitch Boss” suit on.

She knelt between strong thighs. Looking up, she noted the half-smile again.

“Aren’t you going to…you know. Take it out?”

“It? By “it” I take it that you mean my cock?”

She nodded, blushing.

“Say it. Say it properly. It’s not an “it”. It’s a cock. It’s my cock.”

“Aren’t you going to…take your…cock…out?”

The smile turned raw again, making her shiver.

“Oh no,” he replied, his voice a hot whisper in the quiet room, “that’s part of making the grade, little girl.”


Her hand trembled as she lifted it to tug at his zipper. Her eyes flashed up to meet his quickly, then back down.

“It’s…a little…snug…” She spoke softly.

“I have every faith you’ll figure it out.”

She did. Reaching into his slacks, taking out the huge length of him, in awe and not just a little nervous about this.

“Open the top button. Take out my balls too. Start by licking them. Slowly.”

She wouldn’t look at him now, only focus on the task at hand. If she finished quickly then her son would pass algebra. Her fingers cupped his balls, gently; her head bent to lap softly at the flesh. He smelled, a mix of sweat and urine and that man-scent. Her pussy, she could feel, was intrigued. Dear gods, this was just …wrong. She should tell him to fuck off, go back home. Instead, her lips encircled the head of his shaft.

She’d always liked to suck cock, she reminded herself. This one was a beast, and she hoped she could take it all the way. She wished–somewhere in the darkest naughty place in her mind–that he’d knock all the shit off his desk and fuck her brainless.

Her lips stretched around him. Relaxing her throat, cupping the underside of his penis with her tongue, she pressed her head down a few inches.

“This isn’t working.”

Her mouth popped off his cock and she stared up at him.

“Get the rest of those clothes off.”

He watched, impassive as she glared at him, all the while shedding her skirt, her pantyhose, her shoes. Pausing at her panties, his brow raised. Very clearly he was saying “all”.

Fine,” she huffed out a breath, slipping the granny panties she wore to work down and off. She could play the nervous woman, but instead, she thrust out her tits, her hip jutted forward. She had a fine body, despite the years it wore, the babies she’d popped out of it. She’d earned every damn line, stretch-mark and soft curve. Fuck him.

“Nice,” he replied, running his hand along the side of her breast, down her belly.

“On the desk. Head hanging over.”

He helped her up, tugging away her hairpins, leaving her long hair hanging down the side of the desk.

“Knees up, spread a little. I want to look at your cunt when I fuck your mouth.”

“When you…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, her mouth filled suddenly with the fullness of his cock. His hips pressed forward, she gagged, feeling the head slip into her throat. He pressed his thumb against the lump showing clearly against the taut skin of her throat.

“My cock. Mmmm. Love the way that looks in you.”

She couldn’t cough, couldn’t gag, couldn’t do anything. Eyes watering, she tried to shake her head, but he held her firmly. As he pulled out, she gasped, coughed.

“Very good. Let’s try that again, but longer this time, eh?”

Longer? Dear gods….

Again her throat distended, engorged by the thick shaft of him. His balls pressed against her nose, filling her with the dark, sexual scent of him. She needed air, needed a breath, needed to not feel him half-way to her stomach. Fingers pinched her nipples, lifting her full breasts. There was no air for the scream that stuck in her belly. OH! It hurt! Her tits were big, yet he lifted them high.

He pulled away, and she coughed, gagged, groaned. His fingers still held her nipples, rolling them now in his tight grip. Dropping of them should have been a relief, but he slipped back into her mouth, and began to slap the round orbs, his touch leaving heat, and handprints, behind. She said something, but his cock shoved the words back into her lungs. He held there, plugging her, his hands battering her tits.

She arched, her back rising from the desk as she came.

“You naughty girl. Coming all over my important papers.”

He pulled out of her throat, leaving her face streaked with tears, drool, precum. He was iron-hard. Moving around the desk, he tugged her until her ass hung off the edge. Her legs came up as he lifted them over his shoulders.

Oh thank gawd,  she thought. She needed to be fucked so badly. Her pussy throbbed with the intense need. Her tits throbbed from the beating, her clit announced her readiness, rising hard, thrusting invitingly toward him.

He slicked the head of his cock along her pussy.

“Not ready yet, I see,” he murmured. Before she could react to that, he slapped at her cunt. Her clit shrieked, her pussy quivered. He struck hard, the simple brutality as arousing as the silence. When she tried to close her legs, tried to drop an ankle to shield herself, he leaned forward, keeping her open and accessible, and pinched her nipple hard enough to make her scream a little.

Damn and she prided herself on her stoicism.

fuuuuuck! Ow ow ow!” she cried as the biting grip did not relax.

“Legs. Stay. Open.”

“Yes. Yes. I will. . . please…ow…”

He dropped the nipple, slapping at her tit-meat a few times, before returning to her cunt. She swore she could feel the lips of her cunt swelling. Her flesh turned pink, then red. A thick bruise formed where his ring met her flesh. Head tossing side to side, she bit her lip to keep from keening aloud. Forever passed before he stopped. His cock once again trailed down her slit.

“Much better. You’re as wet as Niagara Falls, you slut! I think you like being treated hard.”

Her head rolled from side to side.

“Please,” she muttered.

He paused in the stroking of her slit with his shaft.

“Please? Please what slut? Please, explain.”

“Please … fuck me.”

“Are you looking for a better grade for your boy?”

“N…no…I…need you to fuck me.”

“You want it hard, don’t you? You like it rough. You want my cock to rape your soaking cunt, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpered. “Yes, rape my aching, wet cunt. Please, please!”

“So wet. So fucking soaked.”

His cock never stopped, slowly fucking the length of her slit. Her sensitive swollen lips gripped at the massive shaft, her pussy lubricating him. The press against her anus surprised her.

“But not your pussy, I think. I’ll take a better, tighter prize today. But cheer up, Mrs. Williams. Your son will get an A.”

He shoved hard enough to move her back across the desk, her skin screaming where it had stuck from sweat and gripped. Her anus stretched, her mouth opened wide, but no words came out. Her breath was trapped somewhere deep in her belly as his cock pierced her tiny puckered asshole.

He fucked relentlessly. He fucked forever. Tears leaked down her eyes, tangled in the long streamers of her hair.

“Oh dear. I can’t cum in your ass…it might ruin your expensive suit, Mrs. Williams.”

His cock pulled out of her rectum with a pop. Fingers stretched the hole, then the sound of a cell phone clicking a picture.

“My insta-followers will love this gaping asshole shot,” he said. His grin was wide, his cock pulsing, a drop of precum oozing.

She had no words for this final humiliation.


“Okay. I’ll come in your mouth. Good girl asking so nicely.”

“no…no…I didn’t…you just…”

“I had no idea you were such a dirty slut, Mrs. Williams, but we do what we must for our children, don’t we?”

He tugged her back across the desk, held her head firmly. His cock smelled of shit. Her shit. She closed her mouth, but he pinched her nose until she gasped for breath. The whole length of him  slid inside her mouth, across her tongue, into her throat. He stroked once, twice, before stiffening and grinding against her face. She felt the pulsing, the hot wetness at the back of her throat. He didn’t ejaculate in her mouth, allowing her to dilute the taste of her poop.

He pulled free, wiping the excess from the tip using a hank of her hair.

“Time to get dressed now, and scoot on home.”

His tone was neutral; she was nonplussed. Numbly she dressed, slipped into her shoes. There was nothing to be done for her hair, so she finger combed it. When she would have smoothed out the blob of semen, he stopped her.

“Leave that. Consider it…your grade.” He smiled, back in his chair, fingers templed together as he watched her dress.  “Have a lovely evening, my dear.”

She looked over her shoulder at him.

“You’re a real bastard, you know.”

He smiled.

“So I’ve heard before.”

Taking up her briefcase, she thought about stomping out of the room. Her anus throbbed, and her pussy ached with unanswered need. She’d deal with that later, but she’d be damned if she’d give him the satisfaction of moaning when she moved. Head high, back straight, she made sure her hips had an extra swing as she left the room without a backward glance. Quietly, carefully, she closed the door until it clicked behind her.


He packed up his stuff, ready to leave. She’d been a hot piece of ass–in every sense of the word. He stepped out into the hallway, locking his door and pocketing his keys.

“Night, Harry,” he greeted the janitor.

“Night Mr. Williams.”


Repairs ~ A Danger Date Story

inspired by the pic on this post by Jz… found here…thanks for that, Jz! ~nilla~

Damn the rain that made her have to check the undercarriage of her car in the stuffy garage. It would have been much easier to see what was going on under there if she could have parked out in the driveway in the sun. But today, the one day she had free to check the weird whangy noise under her chassis, Mother Nature had to send a deluge.

Propping the chucks behind the wheels, she jacked up the front until she was sure there was enough room for her to wiggle under. Frankly the thought of it made her want to puke, but her purse was light this week, and her ability to Rube Goldberg a fix was legendary. If it bought her an extra month or two before she had to haul off to the garage, that was all to the good.

She opened the side door, the one that led to the house, letting in a wafting of rain-chilled air. Drawing her denim over-shirt around herself, she sighed, and sat on the towel she’d spread. Laying down, she gingerly inserted herself under the car. Ah, and there was the problem, a pipe whose tie-down had failed. That explained the thunking wobble she felt under her feet when driving the under-carriage killing roads to work. Though she dearly loved living in the boondocks and not the city, there were definite drawbacks to it. Still, this would be a relatively simple fix. Feeling around for the duct tape, a Rube Goldbergering necessity, she tore off a generous strip and began to wind it around the pipe, re-attaching it to the metal support beside it.

Caught up in her task, she failed to hear the approach of footsteps. Or perhaps she wouldn’t have heard them anyway with the thundering boom of rain on the garage roof. Her first clue that someone was there was when her ankles were kicked apart.

“Woha! What???”

“Shut up.”

Something pointy poked against her thigh. Holy hell, was she being robbed? In her own garage?!  And in a vulnerable and defenseless position to boot.

“Unzip your pants.”

“I will not!”

The pointy thing pressed harder into her thigh. Was that a glint of silver? A knife? Jeezuz…her heart thumped.

Her hands moved to her fly, unzipping her jeans as she spoke rapidly.

“Look, I…my wallet is in the kitchen and…”

“Shut the fuck up and finish. Hurry up!”

The voice was a rough growl. Goosebumps rose along her arms as she worked her zipper down.

“And the button, cunt. Do I have to tell you every thing?”

“You didn’t say the button. And you’ve got a knife. On my thigh. I’m not taking any chances of second guessing you. Be specific if you want something.”

Why the hell could she not keep that note of censure from her voice. He could freaking kill her and over her snippy attitude. Her mouth kept doing that to her, all the time.

His hands gathered fabric on the side of her jeans, then tugged down, until it cleared her buttocks, her thighs, her calves. The bright chill of the air hit her exposed skin as he tugged off one sneaker, then the other, before removing her pants completely. Maybe she should try to shimmy out from under the car…

He pressed the knife against her pussy.

“Don’t fucking move.”

He teased the tip of the knife under the elastic band encircling her leg. No, she wasn’t going to move a hairs breadth. The fabric parted as he turned the blade; her pussy now felt the caress of the damp New England air. Containing the shiver was impossible.

“Look, you don’t have to do this….”

The blade pressed against the plump flesh. Swallowing the rest of her words she took shallow breaths. The knife moved upwards, slicing away the rest of her panties.

“Stretch your arms out over your head.”

“It’s kind of tight in here…not a lot of space to be wiggling in..”

The knife pressed against her again, the warning clear.

“OKAY, okay, I’m doing it…just…please…”

Somehow she got her arms stretched out over her head. Something…someone…grabbed her wrists, tugging them. The cool kiss of metal and a series of clicks were followed by a sense of weight. Her hands were dropped to the ground, the sound of a chain clinking echoing under the car.

“Hey!” she yelped, as she heard the unmistakable sound of the jack being turned. The car lowered until it was mere inches from her. The thought of being crushed under a thousand pounds of automobile frightened enough to make her lash out, feet kicking, arms trying to move. Whatever he’d done to the chain had kept her mostly immobile, and she only managed to bang her heel on the concrete floor.

Cold liquid splashed against her crotch. She felt the cool slide of it leaking down her pussy lips, slipping into her crack, the tickly sensation of drops as they fell onto the pavement under her. There were other sounds, the softest of voices. There were two of them. The sensation of something pressing against her anus got her immediate attention. Whatever it was, it was huge. Eyes squeezed tightly, she thrashed her legs, only to have them caught and held. Slaps on her thigh made her cry out. Nothing stopped the persistent push of something enormous seeking entry into her tiny rectum. When the head popped through, she screamed. There was movement between her legs, sounds she could not identify, but her whole attention was on the intruder in her ass, and the painful stretching ache there.

“It’s very big, this dildo. It is braced most perfectly. Listen to me girl. We are leaving now. You can get out of this predicament easily. Shimmy down from under the car. Fill your ass with this rubber cock. Your arms will move with effort, the chain is very heavy, but you are strong enough to move it. The key to the cuffs is on the workbench.”

He slapped her thigh again, but spoke no more.  Their feet made soft sounds as they walked away, the door closing behind them. She waited a moment, another, gathering her breath as she made that first painful shimmy out from under the car. Her arms already ached from tugging the heavy chain a mere inch or two. Her bottom protested the further insertion of something where nothing that big belonged. Biting her lip, she wiggled herself free, yet not without consequence, as she moved one slow, ass-filling inch at a time.

It wasn’t until much later, as she limped out of the garage holding a dildo that could double for a Louisville Slugger that she saw the blue paper he had taped against the door. It bore the logo “Danger Date”.


His hand tangled her hair, fist pulling the silken strands so tightly that her eyes stung with it. He pressed into her and against her, holding her against the wall by the mass of his body and the thickness of the shaft buried to the hilt in her anus.

Her cries were born of pain and mixed with pleasure.

He’d given her no time to relax, no time to adjust. His cock, ready and hard, sprang forth from his dress pants as his hand lifted her skirt, parted the round cheeks of her bum. A wad of spit was all the lube he’d wanted, spat onto her ass, the head of his shaft drawn through it until it was moistened.

Ankles, precariously tender in the too-tall stiletto’s he favored, had been kicked apart, her face pushed into the wall, her ass jutted out, awaiting him. Fingers bruising her hips, he drove relentlessly into her, until his hand had drawn up her hair, pulling her back, deepening the arch of her spine that unconsciously asked him for more.

He came with a grunt, his teeth working the tender column of the back of her neck, stinging nips that would leave a trail of bruises, temporary tattoo’s of his pleasure writ upon her flesh.

Tenderly he lifted her panties from her ankles, drew them tight against her bottom, before tugging her skirt back into place.

“You keep that spunk up in there,” he said with a smile, patting the curve of her bottom as he ushered her to the door. “No leaking at the restaurant, or else.”

Her shiver was all the response he needed, the hard points of her nipples accepting his dare. He pinched one through the silky fabric, tugging her out to the car by the yearning bit of skin.

“Come along, slut. Mustn’t be late for our dinner.”

He put her into the seat of the car, pausing a moment.

“My boss is going to love meeting you.”

Her bottom clenched as he shut the door on his chuckle.







Face in the mattress, butt up across His lap, His hand lazily beats a steady rhythm against my ass. There is deep and intense pleasure in an over the knee spanking–for both of us. I’m in the zone, really way out in subspace, yet also deeply connected to Him by that thudding hand, and my rosy fanny.

I would be the first to tell you that I’m not a huge fan of anal. And the first to blushingly admit that I come like a bitch in heat when He does it.

There is no prelude. No time to prepare. He just matter-of-factly squirts a bit of lube against my asshole and sticks in His finger, loosening it. My head comes up and I gasp (every time).

“What?” He says, His voice laced with humor. “I’m using lube aren’t I?”

My  head plops down onto the bed. I feel  my pussy clench and — His finger is gone before I ever crest that wave.

(Maybe I even moan about it a little bit.)

But it’s all under His control. I don’t get a say in it–He doesn’t ask, or discuss, He just does. I am His to play with, howsoever He chooses.

That’s totally freaking hawt, y’all.

He’s not my boyfriend who might beg, whine, cajole me to try anal with him. He’s not my husband who might do the same.

He’s my Dom, my Master, and He’s totally and completely in charge. He’s not a huge man, but His attitude is imposing. He has a quiet firmness, and I respond to that. (Okay, I’m easy, what can I say?!) He doesn’t have to make nice-nice to get up my ass. He just takes. Quietly, firmly, expecting me to just take it. I do. I take it even when I think I doanwanna. Doanwanna have *anything* up my tender bottom.


It’s a quiet force that plays deeply into my obsession with rape fantasy. It’s not violent, mind you…but it *feels* like a violation (right up until the actual “violation” and then I’m cumming and cumming…if He doesn’t stop as He did this time, the Bastard!)

He checks my pussy, which is, naturally enough, saturated. Between the spanking and His fingers playing in my bumhole, I’m more than eager to be fucked.

“You’re so fucking wet,” He chuckles, smacking my already throbbing right asscheek once more.

And then I feel it. The press of this really big thing against my pussy, AND my ass. OMG. It’s that fucking double dildo (with a wider girth than any of my toys)…both sides are the same thickness, and He pushes with a steady hand, filling me. I moan, maybe try to get away a little bit. But His hand holds me still upon His lap. Once it’s fully inside, He smacks my ass with one hand, while fucking me in both holes at the same time.

I came so hard I pushed the dildo out of me. He shoves it back in, laughing.

I’m hot and sweaty and soaking the bed and His lap.

Because He takes without asking.

And gives me tons in return.

Please Master, may I have another?


“Are you sure you’re up for this, Sir?”

She kept her eyes downcast, mostly, as she stood naked before him. She saw the cane move with him as he came closer, one fragile step at a time. Why she’d answered the ad for “D/s companionship” was beyond her. He was old, his face worn by time. Yet his eyes had burned into hers as they met at the coffee shop last week. Agreeing to a trial run of play, she had assumed she’d be naked and trying to raise his aged cock to some semblance of erection.

Or maybe he’d just take that little blue pill.

The hand not holding the walking cane flashed out, unexpectedly quick, striking her on the cheek.

“Don’t be rude, girl” he admonished, as that same hand whipped into her ponytail, wrapping the long strands round his palm and fingers. With a quick hard jerk her head was bowed back.

“OW!” she yelped. She liked pain, she did, but…she admitted that she had let herself believe that this old guy wasn’t really a “true” Dom.

She heard the thunk of the cane as it fell to the floor beside her and felt his hand grasp her nipple. Twisting it hard to the right, she rose to her toes at the sudden sharp hurt.

“Still think I’m too old, little girl?” His voice was a soft croon in her ear.


The words burst from her lips in an excess of enthusiasm. He tugged her hair again, then let the long tail of hair fall freely. Now both her nipples were caught, twisted this way and that as she gasped and moaned. He pinched like a sonofabitch. Her eyes fluttered up to look at him, seeing the satisfaction on his face. His eyes glittered in pleasure, the cruel devil shining back at her.

He released her nipples, but rather than giving her a moment for breath, grabbed large handfuls of tit, squeezing and then mashing them together. Her head fell back at the pleasure of the pain, as her clit began a steady pulsing.

“Do I smell wet cunt?”

“yes Sir, most likely.” Her gasp interrupted her words. “I…ooooh….i….”

“yes girl?”

His fingers worked cruel magic on her breasts. Small whimpers slipped from her as her pussy continued heating.

i like that…oh..hurts…”

“You did mention that you are a painslut. It seems that you know yourself very well.”

His hands fell away.

Her eyes opened after a moment. He stood there, arms crossed, staring at her. She could feel the heat of bruises starting to form on her tits, and the need between her thighs was most…disconcerting. Not nearly as much as his eyes, boring into hers. A quick hard swallow, and lowering her eyes helped her find her equilibrium.

“Display yourself properly on the bed.”

He’d sent her an email earlier showing several positions that he favored. She turned and stepped to the bed, throwing an uncertain look over her shoulder. He watched her, not moving a muscle. The quick thought that maybe he was frozen in some sort of catatonic state briefly flitted through her head. Before the nervous titter could escape, she crawled up onto the mattress and knelt the way he liked.

“Ass higher.”

She drew her knees further under her belly, until they were right up under her breasts.

“Spread your feet.”

Ankles were flared, her back arched as she bared her most intimate places to his view for the first time. She waited for his hand to stroke over her, but there was nothing. Forehead pressed to the bed, she could see nothing, only wait.


The sharp crack of his hand on her thigh made her squeak with shock. Again he hit her thigh, closer to her pussy and again she made a wee noise.

“You do carry on so.”

She swore she heard the smile in his voice. Waiting for the next slap, she tensed. It didn’t fall. Something poked at her anus.

“OH!” she gasped.

“Relax your butthole, girl.”

She tried. She gave it her all, but every press made her whimper and tense up. Whatever it was, it was smooth with a rounded tip. And hard, more like wood than rubber. It pressed through her tense muscle, and slipped inside. Her pussy threatened to spurt.

“NO! No cumming yet, girl.”

The whimper this time was for the denial of pleasure. Having her ass penetrated always turned her on like a motherfucker. It was the darkest of her desires, the one she feared most, but reacted to intensely.

“please?” she begged, “Please Sir…i…I so do so need to cum…”

He didn’t reply and she was close, so close.

“My walking stick looks amusing sticking out of your ass like that.”

The quick hard bite of leather on her ass and hip made her shift position. He kept smacking her, all unaware.

“FUCK!” she yelped.

A hand pressed on the back of her head, pushing her face into the mattress.

“Stay, whore.”

“yes Sir.” The muffled words came from the sheets.

He took up whacking her ass, moving from one side to the other, until tears wet the bedding under her face and her ass throbbed with heat. Occasionally he would adjust the tool in her ass, pumping it in, pulling it out. She would wiggle and moan, which would earn yet another admonishment.

He tugged it free at last, her asshole throbbing like a second clit.

“Yes, well, we will have to clean that up later, won’t we?”

He spoke matter-of-factly as he placed the stick in the bathroom. She was mortified. It wasn’t like it was unexpected for there to be shit there. It was, after all, an ass’s primary function.

She said nothing, but felt her face glowing with the embarrassment.

“Down on your belly, legs to the floor.”

Slithering, she moved until her toes were touching. He moved between her thighs, until she felt the heat of her ass come into contact with his belly. His cock slipped between her pussy lips, cleaving them like the prow of a warship.

“Your cunt is soaked.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Your ass burns. Does it hurt?”

“Yes Sir,” she spoke again.

“Good,” he said, as he pulled back and away. He entered her slowly. His cock may not have been ginormous (for which she was grateful) but it certainly felt divine as he pushed deeper into her. She needed this!

His fingers pinched loose skin at the top of her hips, and she whimpered as he pressed himself all the way home. He fucked her, each stroke measured, each stroke buried deeply into her, while his fingers tormented  her ass, her back, her hips, leaving bruises in his wake.

The pain was like adding fuel the to fire.


She exploded, her pussy clamping down on his shaft like a hot velvet vice. His voice came to her from someplace in the ether as she felt herself come apart, then back together as he stroked, stroked, stroked, never changing tempo despite her paroxysms.


Fireworks. Lightning bugs. Sparks from a campfire. She was all of these and more. Shooting skyward as her cunt clamped and convulsed around the steadily fucking cock. She’d never been fucked so deeply, so thoroughly.


She flew through the stars. Blackness erupted into pinpricks of light, rivers of sensation. He may have cum, she wasn’t sure. She only knew that her body was flying outward, her consciousness flung far out to the universe.

She woke, coming back to a body that throbbed. She moved, every muscle loose and hot. She was liquid, poured back into her skin, trembling with the aftershocks.

He slapped her ass firmly.


His voice was amused.

“Still think I’m too old, girl?”

Turning, she smiled sleepily at him, shaking her head in dissent.

“I think you are perfect.”

“And so you should. Next week then, slut.”

Reaching down, he lifted her head and kissed her for the first time. It was as firm and strong as everything else he had done. Dropping her head back to the bed, he turned and hobbled out of the room with the cane that He must have washed  while she was out.

Catching her look, and the blush, he smiled a wicked smile.

“Next week, you will wash it.”

The door closed softly behind him.



“You wouldn’t. You….couldn’t…” her voice trailed off into a squeak as he launched himself across the room and onto her.

Not only would he, but he did. It took only seconds for her taunting gibe to be silenced as he flipped her onto her belly, trapping one hand under her, the other behind her back. Trying to open her fingers and pinch him was for naught–he pressed against her firmly.  His hands dug under her skirt, hooking her panties in his fingers.

“Seth…I was jok–”

With a rough tug, her panties were torn from her bottom. With a quick twist, he secured her hands together. His belt was tugged from his pants, looped through the panty-tie on her wrist and quickly looped through the headboard.


Her words were garbled as he shoved his tie into her mouth. The bed shifted as he moved away.  From the other room she could faintly hear his voice, then the chirp of the phone. More words, another chirp.

She looked over her shoulder as the door flung open. He stood, framed from behind with the light pouring into the living room window. He looked…daunting. He strode to the bed, unbuttoning his shirt, tugging down his pants, revealing a hard-swollen cock.

“Told your boss you were a bit tied up at the moment, and not feeling good. He said he hopes you feel better soon. My boss was understanding that I had to stay here and take care of you, since you’re feeling so poorly.”

She looked at him. He lied? He never lied.

“Oh, don’t worry little girl–you will be feeling verrrry poorly by the end of today. You’ll be sore just about everywhere.” There was a sparkle in his eyes, the one he got when the sadist was walking in his skin.

His hand stroked down her thigh, but she kicked out at him. Her heart pounded–excitement and a bit of fear. She loved him like this, truly, but he was also very daunting in this mood.

“okay, little girl, you want to play rough eh?”

He tugged her skirt up over her hips, baring her bottom fully. She’d only had her skirt and panties on when she had begun taunting him about being too work-oriented. About leaving her, hot and horny, to go hang with his old, shriveled boss whose cock was likely hadn’t seen pussy since the great depression. He turned and went to the cabinet where they kept their toys. She struggled in earnest when he took out the cane. She hated that whippy thing with a passion. Whimpering and struggling to get free, the quick lick of fire on her thigh made her stiffen, then shriek behind the gag. Before she could recover there was another blow, and a third.

“I see I have your attention now, little girl.”

She kept her back to him, refusing to look at him. Always a mistake, didn’t she realize that by now? The cane sang its way up her body, over the curve of hip, lurching at the sway of waist. She was cringing now, holding back the moans of pain at the bites of the wooden tool  upon shoulder-blade and arm. His weight shifted the bed, and she half-rolled. Her tits felt the sharp assault next, her nipples rising as they tightened in response to the torment.

No soft caress followed the sound of the cane clattering onto the nightstand, just the sharp crack of his hand upon her ass as she lay curled on her side. Fuck! Ow!

Fingers pried between her folds, rubbed wetness, spreading it.

“Wet little dirty girl.”

His fingers scooped the slickness, slid into her anus, her pussy, two by two. A sadistic and sensual move, pain and pleasure dancing arm in arm. She was not a fan of anal.

She was so fucking aroused.

At her asshole, the press of his thick head. She shook hers, no, but his fingers tugged her head back and growled ‘yesssss’ as he pressed deep. Whimpers, hers; moans, his, the sounds of pain and pleasure mingling with the slip and slide of wet flesh. Fingers found her clit, rubbing hard, moving up to pinch her nipples.

Driving hard, deeply, filling her belly from behind, she felt the tightening against her bottom, presaging his orgasm. Whimpers were left her in her throat.  She couldn’t speak around the tie gagging her mouth. She was close…so close…

He came with a rumbling groan, hot juice ssssquirting into her bumhole. She felt the quivers in her belly, the longing for her own orgasm, even as his cock began to shrink. He pulled out, falling back, away from her. She grumbled loudly around the gag, tossing her head to show her displeasure.

He lifted his head, chuckled at the glare she threw his way.

“awww, poor little girl didn’t get hers? Too bad.”

He fell back again, but she could see the smile on his face. Smirking bastard. She wanted to kick him, but didn’t quite dare. Look where that had gotten her, here, filled with his cum, and unable to get her own release.

He rose up, flipping her onto her back, his mouth working at her breast. Biting and sucking he played with her. Close, instantly she was that close again.

He rolled away.

“All good things come to those who wait. And to those who dare taunt their Master.”

He rose, stretching.

“I’m off for coffee.”

He tugged the gag from her mouth before he trotted downstairs, and enjoyed his cup all the more for the yelling that filtered down to the kitchen. It was going to be a fine fucking day.


 thanks for the idea, Kayla!

White Rabbit (3)

She swallowed nervously. The idea of putting something foreign into her body was scary. Though it was more the idea of deep inside her belly. Not like a normal play session where there would be ‘insertables”, but something that would have control of her from the inside out.

She thought about that for a moment. Wasn’t that truly what submission was, though? Being controlled through her own choice, by someone else, from the inside out. True, but this wasn’t a “someone”…it was a “some-thing”. And it wasn’t even human.

“What if’s” danced through her head; though she’d heard tales of white slavery, she highly doubted that three middle-aged women were a targeted group. Emily sat, trying to not fidget as the paperwork was displayed, as they listened to the disclosures, swiped credit cards, and crossed their t’s and dotted their i’s. They had finished the final part, writing a few precise activities that would be their ultimate fantasy. The woman who handled the paperwork gathered up all their forms and disappeared through the curtain without a word.

The three looked at one another.

“Well that was terse.”

“I know, right?”

“Well, and now what?”

From behind them came the delicious voice of their guide.

“Ladies, if you will follow me?”

“Oh!” Chris gasped, holding a hand between her breasts. “You startled me!” His only response was a flash of that gap-toothed grin, as if he had meant to unsettle them.

“That was kind of….bastardy.” She grumbled.

“Is that even a word?” laughed Emily. “I’m sure it’s not.”

“Is so…”

Amy interrupted.

“Yup…because you just made it up!”

With a quick smile shared, the three woman briefly bumped shoulders before following their guide down the hallway.

“Boo-yah” muttered Chris under her breath.

“Better than boo-hoo,” quipped Amy, making Chris giggle and Emily smile.

Antoine guided them into the room, placing Chris first, then Emily, then Amy. He drew the partitions so that they couldn’t see one another. Standing near the entry drape, he turned and addressed them all.

“Your ‘bots are being programmed. Please, remove your clothing, and lay upon the bed. An attendant will be with each of you shortly.” He waved his hand towards the beds in a sweeping arc. “Ladies, enjoy your trip down the rabbit hole.”

He turned, departing silently.

There came the soft sounds of disrobing, the swish of fabric slid over heads, the shussshing of a zipper lowering, the little flick of buttons., followed by the faint creak of bedding as a body lay upon it. From the farthest area came a giggle, quickly silenced.


Emily half-laughed, followed by Amy.

“The three of us are a case. A real case.”

Before she could go any further, the curtains parted and three women in blue scrubs came into the room.

“Amy?” Asked the first one.

“Here,” came the reply from the center partition.  The woman moved forward, disappearing out of Emily’s view.


“That’d be me,” came the response, followed by another nervous giggle.

“By default you’re stuck with me,” said Emily to the last woman.

“Not stuck at all. I’m happy to be here, assisting to your fantasy, Emily. Now, are you comfortable?” She made some minute adjustments to the pillow, pulling a small electronic tablet from her pocket. Tapping and scrolling, she read for a moment. Em swallowed down her embarrassment at laying here buck-naked while this “nurse” stood there, fully clothed. She tried to imagine that she was in a dungeon, that there were swarms of people around, that her ‘owner’ had dragged her there for the exposure.

It helped, a little, that scene setting, though in truth Emily was not the fanciful sort. She was a practical woman, and proud of it. Her musings were interrupted as her ‘nurse’ finished reading, and addressed her.

“You’ve chosen to use one of the male bots in accordance with your fantasy” she paused, and turning to the human-looking robot,  lifted a small panel on the left hip. Emily tried to see what she was doing, but her view was mostly blocked. Though there wasn’t a sound to indicate that it was “awake”, Emily knew the moment ‘he’ stirred to …what? Life? Full mobility? She was into computers, after all. She refused to call it “life”…but she was pretty interested to see it’s…cock…begin to inflate.  It’s eyes blinked, once, twice, and Emily noted somewhat randomly that his eyes were as green as emeralds. Her attendant continued, her tone brisk and business-like, something Em appreciated, considering that the two of them were hanging out with a naked robot with a large and engorged cock.

“…and although your fantasy is about being tied up and-or being immobilized, he won’t do that, it will be part of your preparations as you fall into your dreamstate.


Em didn’t follow that last bit, as she was rather enjoying watching the big ‘bots cock do that little jerky thing that human cocks did when excited. That was some remarkable programming there!

Her wandering attention was refocused when her ‘nurse’ tapped her shoulder. Give the woman points, Em thought, she didn’t appear at all embarrassed as to where Emily’s attention had wandered to.

I’ll restrain your wrists and ankles and have you all prepped to go, once you swallow your dreaming ‘bot. It will take, as Antoine should have told you, about ten minutes for you to go into dreamstate–and for some it happens faster. Ready?”

Her smile was reassuring.

“I…I guess I am. So many bots,” she murmured. Dream bots and male dildo bots and…

“stop procrastinating and just do it,” she muttered to herself.

Taking the small pill from her attendant, and water from the tray beside the bed, she threw it back and swallowed. In less than a minute she felt a bit woozy.

“Whoa..thaz kina fass,” she spoke blurrily.

“Relax, and enjoy.”

That was the last Emily heard. She didn’t feel the cuffs encircling her wrist, or being secured to the large D-ring in the wall over her head. She didn’t wake up when nipple clamps were applied to her tightening nubs, but the reaction rippled across her body as a shiver of goose-bumps. For a moment it felt like falling, and then she was flying….

There was a tang in the air, as if she was near the ocean. The musky scent of beer and male ejaculate mixed, reaching her here where she swung near the ceiling.



She wriggled. She blinked.

She was definitely suspended, hung in a rough hemp fish net. Her legs were held apart by virtue of some sort of apparatus around her ankles. In the dim light she couldn’t see much of anything. Her hands were out through the net–the holes were very large–cuffed together and hooked by a rope to a hasp on the wall. Her hair had been clubbed back into a rough short ponytail, and when she tried to move it, she felt a distinct tug in her ass.

An anal hook? It was very firmly up her butt, not totally uncomfortable, but definitely there.

The rough rope dug into her tender belly. Her large tits hung through the openings, and she distinctly felt the tug of a chain on her nipples. When she moved, it wriggled, giving her a reminder to not wriggle around too sharply.

“Yew getting bored up there slut?”

A rough hand slid up between her thighs, rubbing at her lower lips. A thumb was pressing into her, while a finger rubbed at her clit. Not sure what to say, she remained uncharacteristically silent.


A sharp tug on the chain on her tits made her gasp.

“My friend asked a question. Be a good girl, stop reading into everything I say, or my friends say and just fucking answer will you?”

The voice was exasperated.

“Yes Sir.”

“At last.” He clapped his hands once, twice, slowly, mockingly. “The slut answers. You’re gonna be fucked. Treated like the little greedy whore I know you to be. You challenged me to push you, to stretch your boundaries, remember? Here we are, and you are definitely being stretched.”

He laughed, moving around to tug the rope attached to her ponytail and the butt hook gave a firm wiggle. OH yes. She felt that! Stepping back to the front of her, she felt her hands rise as he unlatched her from the wall.

“Ready to lower?” He called across to some other unseen person. There was a creak and she felt herself drop in little jolts, each one making her head bobble and her ass hook wiggle. It was somewhat painful, and desperately erotic as well.

The net was tugged and she felt a bit dizzy with the down drop/ the left tug/ the right tug/ the sounds of the men/ and the dizziness/ and the dim light/  and..her head spun until she landed atop a person. She felt the unmistakable feeling of male chest hair on her tits, the roughness of a man’s legs against her thighs, and the protuberant push of a cock against her belly.

“Perfect. She lined up okay for you, Tom?”

“Oh, that she is…wait….let me take off this fucking chain…that’s friggin’ cold! ‘Sides, I wanna feel nips, not metal when I squeeze these fat titties.”

The net still contained her, but there were hands all over her.  It was a very large cock that pressed against her belly. She trembled.

“Yup, let’s take this out too…”

A sharp tug pulled the tangled cord out of her hair, and she yelped.  And yelled louder as the bulbous tip of the anal hook was tugged past her clenching anus. There was a wet splash.

“One asshole, stretched and lubed…”

There was fumbling beneath her, fumbling behind her, until she felt the firm press of a cock against her tenderly throbbing asshole. He didn’t stop, just pressed forward.

“Aaahhh fuuuckkk, that’s nice. All hot and slick in here…”

Hands gripped her hips, fingernails digging into tender skin. She moaned at the forceful intrusion.  A second cock pressed against her, slipping along her slicked pussy. He muttered as he tried to find her entry, but she couldn’t concentrate on the words, with the painful stretching of her bum. And then he was inside, the flared head of his shaft parting her as his hips rose, working himself deeper into her pussy.

“Reaaaaallly fuckin’ tight with Amos in her asshole.  Holy fuck what a feelin’…”

“Now you just gotta lay there an’ let me fuck ya both.”

Hips bucking, Amos began to grind in and out of her ass. The feeling was both painful, and shockingly arousing. She felt her cunt stiffen around the cock as the first orgasm rolled through her.

“Little cunt just came,” reported Amos. “Felt her cunt even in her butthole, going all clenchy. You feel that Larry?”

Larry uttered a soft moan.

“Move your head Larry. Time to finish the trifecta of fuck.”

Her Master’s voice, so cultured. Always it shocked her to hear such dirty words come from such a fine mouth. It was fine to look at, gorgeously educated, so erudite. Hearing “fuck” and “cunt” from it was a dark treat. And then all rational thought fled as his swollen cock pushed through her unresisting lips, and began to fill her mouth, her throat with his thickness.

The three men working her body filled her; she didn’t think, just experienced. She let go of everything except for the cocks inside her pussy and ass and mouth, the hands clenching around her tits, pulling her nipples. There was the grunting sounds of men, rutting. And her own mewling breaths, squeaking and gasping when he pulled away enough to let her breathe.

Never had she experienced such pleasure coupled with a distinct pain. Her anus throbbed, but the beat was taken up by her clit, rubbed roughly by male crotch hair and the hemp rope that still contained her. Her thighs quivered, held open so widely, her throat ached from the rough face fucking.

She was in a hellish mix of pain.

She was in an awesome mix of pleasures.

Thinking stopped as she swirled apart, her body jolting in an incredible orgasm, until she fell into the blackness of slut sleep.