Perverted Pleasures (3)

If there were others serving in the house, she didn’t see them. After being walked down the sidewalk (two paces behind me, slut, he’d ordered, she remembered with the tang of embarrassment still fresh in her mind) bare-assed naked, and up a set of stone steps and into the big house, she’d expected a big crowd. A club of sorts.

But no.

It was just Master and Sir. She wondered what else would happen to her. Lust curled in her belly, knowing that she’d signed her fate when she’d desired this perverted vacation. She wanted to know what it was that she had been missing all these years when business came before pleasure.

Working her way around the foyer, she tried not to think about how much her knees were aching, how much her back hurt from scrubbing the marble floor with a toothbrush. It was almost impossible to ignore the deep and steady throb of her ass, which was still filled by the anal plug. Yet cleaning the floor this way did split her attention from some of her discomfort. It was such a lowly thing to do, and while she understood perfectly the mindset behind the chore, part of her seethed with impatience. When would she continue to be treated as she had in the car, as a wanton, usable slut?

“You missed a spot.”

She jumped a foot. So lost in her musings, she had been blinded to his approach.

“I’m sorry Sir,” she mumbled, eyes glued to the floor.

“Get that sorry ass over here and fix it.”

As she turned and crawled towards him, humiliation washed over her. Oh, to be treated like a maid. She who could have bought and sold this property ten times over–

A hard jerk on her leash made her choke.

“Pay attention slut. I don’t know where your mind is at, but when I’m here it must be on me.”

Giving the leash another hard tug, he used the free end to swat at her. The sting along her upper back was painful, but, she conceded, justified.

“I’m sorry Sir.”

“Head on the floor, curve your back and show me your cunt.”

The spot where he pointed was wet from her ministrations. Her forehead pressed against the soapy wet tile. She wasn’t happy about that; it was cold and smelled of cleaning solution. She hated for her skin to be touched by it. She remembered all the money she’d spent on face creams over the years. Fingers dipping into her displayed pussy broke her thoughts. Suddenly all her attention was focused on the sensations that his curling digits were causing.

“Don’t you even think about moving. No fucking, no begging. You’re here to be used–a vessel, holes, a cunt. You’re an ass and a mouth and pussy. All hot and wet and available to be used as we choose.”

His fingers slid free. Wiping her wetness on her back, he took up the leash.

“Follow me.”

“On my knees?”

He spared her a brief glance.

“You can walk–for now.”

She rose quickly in case he changed his mind, and followed the proper distance behind. She remembered something about her hands at the small of her back, and placed them there. She wanted to please him–please them both–and she wanted to be fucked.

Master sat on a chair in the middle of the room. His thickened cock had a slight curve to it.Sir brought her forward, looping the leash onto the raised finial on the back of the chair.

“Straddle me and sit on my cock.”

She did as she was bid, yet not as gracefully as she’d hoped. Her leg banged his erect cock, and a sharp slap and verbal admonishment to ‘be careful for fuck’s sake’ made her want to sink through the floor. Somehow she got herself sorted out until she was poised, her pussy lips parted by the flaring head below her.

“Sit. Do it slowly. I want to feel every inch of your cunt as you impale yourself.”

It was a tight fit. He was large, and her ass was still filled with the beast they’d shoved up there in the limo. Her clit rose and began to throb. Her nipples tingled and tightened . Breath came in short excited gasps as he filled her belly with his cock.

“Fuck me. Slow and easy. Up and down.”

It was easy at first. The excitement took her through the first strokes easily enough. Her thighs began to burn after a bit, her calves shook after a few more squats. Her pussy wanted it faster, but she kept to the same steady rhythm.

When his fingers grasped her nipples and pulled them down as she was lifting up, she came.

“There is no cumming without permission.”

Shivering with the shock of having an orgasm with virtually no warning, she opened her mouth to protest. Seeing the look on his face, she stopped herself from speaking. Eyes falling to his belly, she whispered her apology.

“Peter? Mr. Blue, I think.”

She wanted to look around and see who Mr. Blue was, but his arms came around her, hugging her body close to his. His cock was fully impaled, her legs shaking from the workout, as she straddled his lap. There was a tug against her ass, the stretching pain as the anal plug was removed.

She farted.


And cried out in shock and pain as the larger “Mr. Blue” filled her rectum.

In The Elevator

note: I am jumping all around in timing here, because I write what memories come floating up to the surface of my brain. This one has been begging to be written, though you will see it is sparse of words. 

We are done. The day has wound down to evening. I am dressed, though He throws me on the bed to try for one more round. I would have. I really wanted it. Wanted Him desperately, again. Despite cumming a few hundred times. Despite being totally drained. Well…except. He can make me squirt like crazy and that’s another story for another day. But it is also the reason I had to say “oh please…Master…no?…” because I was in my street clothing and there would be no way to hide the big wet stain that I’d walk into my house with.

(And let’s face it. If He had really wanted to? It would have happened. I think He was testing me. Since I was kinda walking like a drunken sailor by then anyway, it was more of a “lets see what happens when I *ask* the slut if we should have one more O for the road” rather than “I *want* the slut to have one more for the road and she can go home in a soaked skirt no matter what.”  Because He’s never going to do something for His pleasure that would out me. It is one of the basic underlying tenets of our relationship.)

We pack our things. Okay, packing my things took all of two minutes. His? Closer to 30. Toys *everywhere*.

*snorts out a laugh*


Funny the innocuous name we give to weapons of pain and depravity, isn’t it?

Toys, for the many whips, the nipple clamps, the weights. To be called toys infers that they are lightweight “things”…things of humor and of an easygoing manner. How can dolls and remote control cars  and anal plugs all wear the label of “toy”…? But I digress…

We leave our room behind, head to the bank of elevators. Finally it arrives, and when the doors open, we’re surprised to see a young couple inside. Master steps in, His back to the back wall, while I stand just in front of Him, my back to the doors. I keep my eyes down, though I’m grinning.

And then He starts.

“So, what do you think? $120 for the sheets?”

I blink, shoot Him a quick uneasy glance,  and feel the blush creeping up my cheeks. I don’t even dare to glance at the young woman and man beside us. He didn’t really just say that, did He? Like…out loud? I decided to play it cool and ignore Him.

I know. Like that’s gonna help, right? He blithely continues on. I look at Him again, quickly. His face is composed into a thoughtful expression as He stares me down. Smug. Daring. Amused.  He knows *exactly* what He’s doing.

He’s embarrassing the crap out of me.

“And then there’s the coverlet. What do you think that runs? Maybe another $100? Or $120?”

He pauses, cocks His head at me, watching me glower at Him, while I am by now beet red.

“Geeze, girl, that’s almost $250! You’re so messy.”

He shakes His head, tut tuts at me. I drop my head, torn between mortification and the need to have a gut-busting laugh. I’m *intensely* embarrassed, and amazed that He is using that against me. I’ve never been that turned on by humiliation.

Except then.

My cunt was throbbing, my face was fiery red, and I am wishing that I could melt through the floor. Finally, to my intense relief, the elevator lands at the lobby, and the doors opened. The couple scurries out, and He says, while they are still in earshot, mind you,

“Well, they seemed nice. I wonder what they’ll be talking about at the bar tonight? Likely you and your shameful behavior of wrecking sheets, nilla.”

Exit, stage left.


The Assistant (8)

His voice came from above her. It echoed around in her head. She could almost feel the words rumbling in the air between them, but she was having the hardest damn time catching them, holding them, understanding them.

“Little one,” His voice was suffused with warmth…and a dose of humor. “This is twice now that you have fainted after orgasming. How long, exactly, has it been since you’ve had sex?”


“How many months?”


“X? X months? Is that an algebraic formula?”

She giggled. She was flying, her heart and body light and free and ebullient.

“X is…an unknown number.”


She tacked that on at the end, after a faint pause. He liked to be called Sir. She remembered that. She wanted to get up and dance but a firm hand between her breasts pushed her back onto the floor. The cool wood under her ass was soothing. There was a burn there, for some odd reason.

Her hand moved, touching something wet and sticky on the floor. Ewww, what was that? She frowned. And it all came back in a rush of color and sensation. Heat, red-hot, from her ass. Electricity, the zing of the connection that she and He had begun to develop.

She paused there for a moment. Was he tolerating her? Was he like this every time some reporter came here, asking about the “50 shades” experience? Or was there really some connection here?

She opened her eyes, looked up to where he sat beside her.

“Is this real?” she asked. There was no carefully constructed query behind it. Her voice sounded small, timid. She wanted to pull it back, that question. Not wanting to hear the answer, she covered her face with her hand, shook her head no.

“no..don’t say it,” she murmured. His hand took her wrist, pushing her hand aside, while his fingers took her chin, shaking it a bit to make her look at him.

“Do not hide your reactions from me. They are precious, you see, and feed me in my own fashion. I like you. You’re serious, and lost, intelligent, and fearful. An interesting package. Do I think that this experience has surpassed your story? ”

He waited, watching her face. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for his response.

“Yes.” His eyes sharpened, looking not at her, but into her. “This is way beyond what you needed to know for a story. The only story here now is you, and where–and how deeply– you wish to explore your new-found self. This isn’t an easy journey. Submission is …” He broke off, looking at her.

“It is a journey for which there is no destination.”

His smile did crazy things to her. She felt the warmth of it…of Him…a feeling much deeper and beyond the warmth that was throbbing in her rounded bottom. She paused at that thought. She was not a sweet young thing as were several of the girls she’d seen moving about the dungeon space during her time here. She was clad nearly as scantily as they, laying here on the floor in only a soft, skimpy tee-shirt, but she felt…like a ….a round, bobbly bobwhite compared to the svelte, pert girls. She was the drab bird, the one who hid in the underbrush, while flashier birds than her cavorted above; the cardinals, the jays, the mockingbirds. Sleek, bright, readily flaunting themselves, so carefree and …open. She envied them that. She was confident in who she was in her profession; a damned fine writer, with a great bio. But here? Here she was in a social aspect that was so foreign, so unknown to her that she felt lost, blown round about  in a sudden, life-altering wind.

He was the answer. The deeply rooted tree that she could cling to. And for whatever reason, he paid her more attention than any of those pretty birds.

“why?” It burst from her insecurity. Always the chubby girl. The not-quite-as-pert ‘n pretty girl.

He seemed, somehow, to understand where she was in her head. His finger slipped down her nose, around her lips. Pressed inside her mouth, exploring. Then around, down, cruising one tit, the other, and flicking at each nipple as it roused.

“Because I want you.”

There was an inherent honesty in his words. Sincerely spoken. That was one thing she deeply admired about this “lifestyle” as people who did it, lived it, called it. There was a high level of honesty between people. She was sure there were nutters out there; there were in any lifepath. But this man, sitting here with his honest face, and intense eyes, he touched her in ways that surpassed the ass-whooping he’d just given her.

With a slight smile, she reached up, touched his hand with her fingers.

“Thank you. I’m…just not sure what is the experience, the reactions to it…and what is you. This is all so ….strange to me. That what you did…”

He interrupted. “I like to call it spanking.”

The giggle escaped before she could capture it, hold it back. She didn’t giggle for gods sakes. She was a woman grown. Giggling was for…well, it wasn’t her. Yet…he made her feel…giggly. Girly. And so amazingly alive.

And turned on. She wasn’t sure what to make of it…she’d never been so affected by someone, and certainly not in the first day she’d met them.

Her blush spoke louder than her voice. His palm cupped her cheek, taking the heat away.

“It is all part of the experience, and it is all about me within that. We are connected through the play, through the trust you have already put into my hands, and through that secret unknowing source of connection that two people feel when things are just …right. Some may call it “connection”. ”

Again with the air quotes. It made her see Him as human, and not some supernatural uber-power that she cloaked him in when he was “Dom”.

“Some may call it “love at first sight” and some might call it a strong sexual connection. Of course, we have not had sex yet. You have not serviced me, and although you have had two orgasms, little one, they were more caused by a physical release than a sexual one. Certainly an orgasm can come with pain- you have indeed just proved it can happen. Twice.” He grinned at her, flicking her nipple again.

She bit her lip, nervous, excited, turned on.

“You are still my assistant today, yes?” At her quick nod, he took her hand and helped her up from the floor.

“Then please, assistant, clean up the mess you left behind here, wipe down the spanking bench, and meet me back in my office when you are done. And little one?”

At her look, he stared pointedly at her bare pussy.

“I expect you to remain attired just as you are. No one will play with you, as everyone here knows you are under my protection today. If you need help finding my office, one of the other sluts will guide you. And I’ll expect to see your pretty ass there soon, yes?”

She nodded. Then looked down at the mess on the floor. Cum and drool. All hers. Torn between a feeling of admiration~there was a lot of cum there~ and embarrassment, she wondered what she was supposed to clean the floor with.

“Your shirt will do nicely to get the goop off the floor. Slut lindsey?” He called across the room to a young woman wearing only a thickly spiked collar. The long silver spikes made her head stay up, giving her beautiful posture. Rather than shouting, she almost glided across the room to them.

“Yes Master?”

“Show my assistant where to find the sterile wipes for the equipment. Then show her where to find my office. No, don’t help her, just guide her.” With a nod to them, he strode away. For a big man, he made precious little noise, she noted. In minutes lindsey had shown her where the wipes were, and which door down the long corridor was His office.

She looked at the wet splots on the floor, and finally just doffed her tee-shirt. It seemed a shame to use it thus, but it was what He had requested. Once the floor was clean, it was onto the spanking bench. Careful to make it as clean as the floor, she was embarrassed to see cum streaks on one of the support rails as well. Quickly she wiped, then found the trash and disposed of the used things. Gross. What to do with the tee-shirt?

Figuring that she should ask Him, she bunched it up in her hand. But what was she supposed to cover up in on the way  to his office. Her nudity hadn’t mattered in here, but out there…well, anyone could see her. Finally deciding that she could lift the shirt up to cover her boobs should anyone come down the hallway, she scurried to his office, knocked on the door, and went inside.

He was typing on a computer, but glanced up as she came in.

And frowned.

“Did I not make my wishes abundantly clear?”

Her heart fell. Ohno. She didn’t want to disappoint him.

“One thing you will learn, little one, is to follow directions carefully. I don’t expect perfection, but most Masters want their sluts to be the best they can be. Tell me what I told you about your attire.”

“You told me not to dress any more than what I was wearing. But Sir…”

“Exactly. Nor did I tell you to arrive back here nude. Not that I mind your nakedness. It is very appealing. Yet, that is not the point here. I want you to put that tee-shirt on.”

“B-but…I cleaned the floor with it and….” she drew to a stuttering stop at his casual smile. She took a breath, then finished when he did not speak. “And it doesn’t matter what I did with the damned shirt, you still want me to put it on. That’s gross.”

He raised an eyebrow.

She looked at the sticky shirt balled up in her hands. Ewww. She pulled it over her head, trying to ignore the big wet spot on her left shoulder, and just above her belly button. There were streaks of wetness smeared across her left tit as well.

“Much better. You wear your juices well.”

It took everything in her to not roll her eyes.

He laughed. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, staring at her mutinous face. She glared, he laughed harder.

“Slut, you are making this almost too much fun,” he wheezed.

She wouldn’t admit it just then, but she wholeheartedly agreed.

Tanked (1)

“I’m not going in there..!” With a gasp, she stood upright. Below her was the largest fishtank she’d ever seen. She’d been to aquariums before, but never had she seen anything like this one.  With a flick of his wrist, the old fart who had hired her gestured to the two burly men who flanked the door.

They moved forward, and lifting her easily, threw her in the tank. Her last clear thought as she felt the water closing over her head was that she was being seriously underpaid.


She’d been looking for a job for 22 weeks. The stint at the local burger joint hadn’t ended well. Newbies were not looked upon happily when they criticized their new bosses for not preparing food properly. She knew she’d never eat at one of those places ever again.

A long string of weeks followed, where her only good news was that the unemployment check was coming. She wasn’t quite ready to start eating cat food, but she wasn’t far from it, either. She needed a fucking job!  There was a series of prospects, a flurry of resumes sent, received, and  then, interviews. Followed by two more weeks of absolutely nothing. Geezuz. Why wouldn’t someone give her a fucking chance?

Two weeks left of her unemployment. She tried to breathe through the panic. She opened her computer and went to her local help wanted page. It fairly leapt out at her:

Wanted: Someone dedicated, loyal, trustworthy. Needs to be able to follow through, be caring, and committed to excellence.

There was an email address listed below. Hell, she was all those things and more! She sent her resume, and tried not to get her hopes up. Every fruitless interview had beat her down just enough to shake her confidence. When the  phone call came an hour later, she was, frankly, shocked. She was even more stunned when the raspy male voice insisted that she interview today, and as soon as possible, please.

She dressed quickly, but carefully, somewhere between comfort and professional. She had absolutely no idea what the job entailed.  Hopefully her simple dress, linen jacket, and colorful scarf would portray a confident, capable woman.


He’d stared at her. Not a word spoken after the initial “come in” when she met him at the door. She had been surprised to be given the address for her interview~ it was at the most exclusive neighborhood in town.  The house, mansion really, was enormous. She tried not to imagine herself as a maid here; she was hoping for a personal assistant. The pay promised had been pretty darned generous; certainly well over what she had made at her last job. Yet, here she sat, in this beautifully appointed office, surrounded by bookshelves, antiques, and expensive what-nots, while being stared at by the man who would, hopefully, become her employer.

After 5 long, embarrassing minutes, his rusty voice almost startled her.

“When can you start?”

She blinked, caught off guard. He was hiring her? Or was this an inquiry?

“As soon as you need me to, Sir,” she had responded. The watery blue eyes had blinked, then he nodded.

“Sir? You’ve not told me what you need me to do…” the caustic look almost alarmed her. She swallowed.

“You’ll be caring for my pets. I have a very large, private aquarium. You’ll be responsible for keeping the viewing area clean and tidy. I often have private viewings for friends and associates. You’d be responsible for setting up chairs etcetera. Making sure the lights work, that sort of thing. Please come back tomorrow. Dress casual. That,” and he waved his bony hand at her, “is far too much. Shorts, tee-shirt, that sort of thing. You’ll need to go into the tank occasionally, just to clean around the top.”

“Oh. You don’t have sharks, I hope!” she giggled nervously.

He blinked owlishly at her. “No. Horrid creatures. No sharks.”


She’d arrived when he told her. A sheaf of papers needed to be signed. Social security number. Address, bank for direct deposit, identification forms, yada, yada, yada. So many papers. She stopped looking at them, fanned them out, signed them all.

He took them, checked each page for signatures, dated them, and arranged them precisely in order. Attaching a clip to them, he put them into a manila folder, and slid it into his bottom drawer.

“This way.”

He indicated that she lead the way out the door. They went to the back of the house, and then up a flight of stairs. And more stairs. Three full flights up and she was breathless. There was a heavy door at the top of the landing.

“Go on, then,” he gestured to her. She tugged it open. Saw the guards -they had to be guards,-on either side of the door. And then she saw the tank. She heard the door thunk shut behind her.

“You need to be naked.”

“I’m not going to be naked.” She whirled around and stared at her boss. “Mr. Withers, this is not what I agreed to at all.”

“Ms. Butler? This is exactly what you signed up for. I have 18 pages, all with your signature on them, downstairs to prove it. William can help you if you feel the need. He’s very good at undressing women.”

She glanced over at the guard who must be William. The leer was unmistakeable. No way was she letting him touch her.

“I am paying you a great deal of money to do this task. I believe I mentioned that I needed someone who could follow through, and be dependable in my ad. You assured me that you were. I can assure you that if you don’t work, you won’t be paid a penny.”

“I need this job….”

“Then do it. Naked. Now. If I understand correctly, your unemployment runs out in 10 days, yes?”

He twisted the knife of fear so well. With a little huff of breath, she all but tore off her tee-shirt. She didn’t want to take off her shorts. But somehow they were pooled around her ankles. She stepped free of them. She stood there in bra and panties. He stared at her. With a roll of her eyes, she unhooked her bra, shimmied out of her panties.

He walked her over to the side of the tank. It was bigger than anything she had ever seen in her life. There was ….something huge swimming in the tank.

“Oh my gawd. Is that…is that….”

“A giant squid. Rare, extremely rare. He is one of only a few dozen left in all the world. He needs special care. And you, my dear, are here to provide it for him. You need to go into the tank and let him get used to you.”

“I’m not going in there!” she gasped.

“Indeed, you will.”


She fell with a splash, her ass hitting the water first. She’d expected it to be shocking and cold, but it was, instead, warm, comfortable. Not hot, not unpleasant in the least. She rose to the surface, grabbed a lungful of air.

“You BASTARD!” she yelled at William, who stood at the edge of the tank with a shit-eating grin on his face. Her tirade was ended before it began when something curled around her ankle and tugged her under the water.


**a very dark dragon-laden tale…it had to be told**

“Man, that was fuckin’ good.” Troy rolled off the girl, gasping. He rubbed his lower belly gently. His rod was so fucking sensitive after he shot his wad. He glanced at the pussy he’d just violated.

The word gave him a delicious thrill.


Her cunt was red and swollen. A string of cum stretched from her oozing hole to her upper thigh, left by his cock as he’d pulled away and rolled off of her.

His friend Will was pumping into her mouth, held open by some fucking weird gag thing Will had found in his parent’s room. There was the most awesome chest under their bed, full of  sex things. A box of condoms that they just left in there. Rope, which they used to tie her to the bed, and whips to slap her thighs and belly with.  Clampy things that, after some research online had revealed themselves to be nipple clamps.

She’d squeeled like a fuckin’ pig when they’d put those on her rosy nipples; it had made him hard as a fucking steel pole when she’d gone and grunted and bucked.  The duct tape they used at first on her mouth had muffled much of the sound, but eventually all the toys in the box had been identified. The “Spider’ gag was quickly inserted, making her mouth available to fuck without fear of losing their cocks if she tried to bite.

Her nipples were purple under the clamps. He figured he better pull them fuckers off. She rose up, screaching around Wills cock, making him groan.

“Gonna….cummmmmmmm” and suiting action to words, He pressed his groin hard against their new slut’s face. There were gagging sounds coming from under him, then silence. He flopped off of her, and Troy saw her swallowing with some difficulty. Cum streaked her cheek and chin, and a small dribble ran down her neck.

“Man, she’s a fuckin’ mess. We gotta clean her up before we let her go.”

“I don’t have the engergy,” Will gasped, sliding onto the floor. “I fucked her like 5 times.”

“Three, supercock. Three fucks. Ass, pussy, face.  Same as me. Five. You fucking wish.”

“Fine, Mr. Knowitall. YOU fucking clean her up then.”

“no. no fuckin’ way am I gonna. We could throw her in the shower?” His head flopped off the bed, looking over at his buddy, slumped on the side.  There was a scratching at the door.

“Fucking A. Will. Your fucking dog needs to go out. Again. How often does he fucking need to take a piss? His bladder must be the size of a fucking walnut. ”

Will sat, eyes closed, almost dozing off. Wearily, Troy slipped off the bed, and let the dog out. Opening the fridge as he waited for the beast, he snagged a few EnerG drinks, and then saw it.

“Hey, doesn’t Mumford like Cheese wiz?”

Will’s voice came down the hall. “Yeah? so what, mutherfucker? He’s a dog. He eats fucking everything. Last week he ate my shorts. Fucker.” Wills voice mumbled incomprehensibly down into silence.

“You let him eat your tighty-whities? Man, you must fart some delicious dog-food out that fat ass of yours!” Troy guffawed, as he went to let the dog back in.  Mumford started snorting at the can of cheese in Troy’s hand.

“I got an idea. A fucking prime A idea. C’mon Mumford, you fucking shit head dog….”

He squirted a bit of the cheese on his finger, letting the dog lick it off. It was all the encouragement the pooch needed. In seconds, Troy and the 80 pound Great Dane mix were back in the bedroom.

“Sit, Mumford.” Will pointed his finger at the dog.

The dog, staring expectantly at the bottle of Cheeze Wiz, sat, tongue lolling.

“So the idea…no. No fuckin’ way…You fucking perv. Let me get my camera!”

Troy waved the bottle of cheese, giggling a bit as the dog followed its passage, his head moving back, then forth. He slid the bottle between Claire’s legs.

“Open up honeypot, Daddy’s back! You’re gonna have such a fuckin’ good time now…”

Claire moaned, wriggling and trying to move. Tied as she was to the four corners of the bed, she didn’t move more than an inch…and the nozzle of the cheese was pressed inside her cunt anyway. The shocking coldness made her whine around the gag holding her mouth open.

“Filling your cunt up with cheese, slut! Mumford just LOVES CheezeWiz…and with the added flavor of cunt? I think you might have two boyfriends here, now. Hey Will? You gonna be jealous that your dog is gonna tongue-fuck your girlfriend?”

There was a flash of light, as Will took the first picture, one of a red pussy, with a thin line of cheese oozing from it.  The second picture captured the line of cheese around her still-open mouth, like obscene lipstick. She shook her head, but the sticky, almost-plastic substance stuck firmly.  She grunted, bucked, and  tugged.

She was stuck.

Troy called the dog to the bed, leaning across, and applying a line of cheese at her ankle. The dog started lapping. The line continued as Troy trailed the nozzle up her calf, her knee, her thigh. The dog grew more excited, and leapt onto the bed, licking furiously.

She bucked and wriggled, but the dog’s tongue found the source of the cheese, and began eating her pussy voraciously. He lapped and dug into her, slurping and nosing her folds apart for deeper and deeper access.  He licked across her anus, and that sensitive line of flesh that separated ass from cunthole. She bucked now to give him greater access, and soon he was nose deep in her folds. As his tongue rasped over her tender flesh, hitting that sensitive spot at the top of her channel, she arched, head back, as she flooded into an intense orgasm. He kept licking.

She was aching, throbbing as her body came down, yet still the fucking beast lapped at her. The second orgasm slammed into her. Her cunt convulsed, and the dog pressed harder, trying to get deeper. He could taste the tantalizing hint of more cheese…and when her spasming pussy opened, he dove deep, his long fat tongue slurping up her cum, the boys cum, and CheezeWiz.  He licked; she came, until she fainted.

She woke when his tongue swiped across hers. She tasted dog spit, cheese, and cum. No matter how she turned her head, he followed, lapping her lips, her cheeks, the inner walls of her mouth.

She cried out when she felt the nozzle pressing against her pussy.

“Instant replay!” Came Troy’s voice, followed by the click click click of Will’s camera.

“Well have to do this again next weekend, won’t we?” Click, click. “You sure don’t want these pics up on your facebook wall, do you?



it’s not often I have the same dream again, and again, and again, and again. Yet the fucking Cheesewiz bit kept coming to me over and over, much like Claire’s orgasms in the story. I don’t condone forced rape. Not in real life. This is pure fantasy, my pervy pals…after all…we ALL know that cheezewiz isn’t really cheese!   Ergo….fantasy!  ~n~

Mechanic, working it out

Warning!   This is not for the faint of heart…the links will take you back to the story chapter by chapter to refresh you…Here be Dragons of epic proportions!  ~nilla~


He strolled around the house. Last night had ended well…for him at least. The two sluts that he’d taken possession of the day before had slept on the floor at the foot of his bed. Once during the night he’d awoken, gotten up to piss. Returning, he pulled one of them up by the hair and told it to lick his cock dry. The struggle was brief; his hold on the hair, likely the boyfuck’s hair, had been impervious to wriggling. His cock had been licked dry, and then he relaxed his grip and gotten back to bed.

When he rose, they were gone, and he wondered if they’d fled.

But when he’d come into the kitchen there they were, making breakfast and coffee. The kitchen floor had been scrubbed, and gleamed in the morning light. The scent of coffee began percolating through the room, and he noticed the counters were tidy and clean, the appliances sparkled, and the loose knob on the back door had been tightened.

He nodded, taking the mug of coffee offered to him.

“You need names. I can’t call you slut and slut. Too fucking confusing. So you,” he pointed with the mug towards Jim, “you’re a pussy.” He sneered the word out, admiring the cringe on the soft man’s face.

“Yeah. Pussy. And you…” he took a sip, looking over the rim of the mug at Angela, who had dared to raid the laundry hamper and was wearing one of his own shirts. Sexy. Impudent. Punishable. But….after she finished cooking breakfast, which looked to be the lightest pancakes he’d ever seen.

“You’re a tiger…got some sass in you, some fight…That’s okay, I don’t mind pushing you back down into your place. Makes it all the more fun for me, really.  Pussy, Tiger. ” He laughed, a hard, almost mean laugh, and took another sip of the coffee.

“Pussy, come sit under the table and suck my dick. Not hard, just keep it warm and harden it up for me. After breakfast I’m gonna put Tiger on the table and fuck her hard up her asshole.”

He loved the sudden clenching of her shoulders, the ultra rigid stance.

“no.” It was quiet and defiant.

In a heartbeat, he was up and behind her, his fist in her hair, bending her back. “You don’t get a fuckin’ vote here, cunt. You work for my work in return. And you better not burn those pancakes because they look fuckin’ delicious. And if you fuck them up, I’ll whallop the shit out of you before I fuck your ass.  Got it?”

He punctuated the last few words with a hard shake of her head with his fistful of hair. He watched the tear flow from the eye closest to him. It made his dick throb.

“Yes Sir,” she whispered.



She lay on the table, her head in the plate with the detritus of His breakfast. She could smell the syrup, and imagined the bits of leftover pancake and bacon stuck in her hair.  She, who was so fastidious, was a fucking mess. He was smacking her pussy, her legs splayed open. She dared not move them, though the pain was stinging and made her want to run screaming from this fucking house of horror.

Yet for some reason, she had stayed. She could have left last night, or this morning. Yet, she came down, cleaned, scrubbed, and prepared breakfast for Him. Soon her boyfriend had joined her, helping with the cleaning, and in some light fixing. He was a dork, but he could use a screwdriver.

“You might think you hate this, Tiger, but you’re so wet my hand is splashing. This could cause a fucking tidal wave!” He laughed. She hated when he made fun of her. She was so fucking embarrassed by being so turned on by what he kept doing to her, to Jim…Pussy. She better not fuck up and call him by his regular name or she’d be caned for it. This pussy smacking was His punishment for taking his shirt, AND for daring to wear it when he’d told them yesterday they had to be naked. She hated him. Hated him. Her cunt gushed with  His final smack.

“Pussy, get the fuck over here and lick her asshole. That’s right, yes, nice and wet and deep…stick that tongue in there. Right…lap it…lap it…come on you fucktard…wet. Your spit is the only lube this cunt is gonna get…if her ass hurts, you’re gonna hear about it, so fucking prepare her ass for my cock!”

She writhed and moaned. She hated it…she loved it. So fucking humiliating…she could feel the wetness coming from her pussy….and Ji…Pussy lapping at her…ohhhh…his tongue thrust in an out of her asshole, a soft, wet, hot precursor to something much more intense.

“Move outta my way, I got an ass to fuck.” He shoved Pussy out of the way, and pulled her down off the table.

“Turn over.  Put your hands behind and open your butt cheeks for me, that’s it, at least one of you can follow directions…yeah…oh…yeah…tight…nice…oh…shut the fuck up cunt…oooohhh, nice and hot and tight. Wait. Let’s do that again.”

He pulled his cockhead out of her ass, then pressed it against the entrance again. She whimpered, wanting to fight.

“It hurts…” she moaned as he pulled out and popped in again.

“Oh, Tiger, it is so much more fun for me when it does…” Without warning he shoved his hips forward, nearly burying his length inside her rectum. She reared up a bit, squealing and moaning.

“Pussy, reach under her there and grab her nipples. Good. pull them back down to the table, will you? Good. Don’t let them go. You hold them nice and tight.”

He pulled out, slapping her hip, then thrust deeply. She felt the scrunchy curls at the base of his shaft pressing against the skin of  her soft round ass. Her nipples ached, as for once her pussy of a boyfriend did exactly as he was told. The pain in her ass was mirrored in her tits, the ache an echo of her heartbeat. She was beyond tears, beyond screaming, just a slow and steady wail as he fucked her butt relentlessly.

His cock pulsed and jetted streams of cum up her asspipe. He paused, breathing hard, legs trembling. All this fucking took a toll after a while. Pushing off the limp slut on the table, he pointed his finger at the Pussy.

“You go over there and clean up that hole. It’s full of cum…and I want it sparkling, clean and dry when I get back from my shower. Then I’ll have chores for the two of you to get to…got my boys comin’ over for poker tonight…and we’re gonna have one hell of a partay!”

Rubbing his balls, he headed for the bathroom, as the Pussy buried his face in the wet crack of his girlfriend.

It was turning out to be a fucking fine morning!


here be dragons.  Maybe not enough to go on Dark Fantasies…but dragons nonetheless…and …it’s long. 🙂 ~nilla

She was in the back room. It was empty now, but would make a great office space.  She leaned on her broom, imagining things bright and clean, fresh paint on the walls, perhaps a bright area rug on the floor. Shaking her head she got back to work. There was a lot of work to get to before that vision came to reality.

The former small restaurant was a hole-in-the-wall, to be sure. The new owners were looking for more atmosphere. An “ambiance”  Stella had been told, complete with air quotes. She applauded their passion, but some clients were…demanding. And okay. Annoying.

Over the last two weeks, her crew had pulled out the old 50’s era booth seats, the scarred tables, and broken tabletop juke boxes. Out went the old counter, the floor-mounted stools. The place was an empty husk, waiting.  On Monday, the new floor would go down, a lovely reclaimed wood that was costing the new owners a bundle, but would be an awesome statement, and look good in her growing portfolio.

The sharp knocking on the back door startled her. She made her way  through the old kitchen, down the narrow corridor and turned into the delivery area.

She opened the door a crack. “Sorry, closed for reconstruction.”

He pushed through the door, all six-feet-plus of him. “Don’t give a fuck if you’re closed or open. I got a load of wood to drop off. Manifest says to drop it in here. I’m dropping it in here.” He stared down at her, making her very aware that she was here and alone. She put on her best professional attitude.

“The wood stays outside.”

“The manifest says it goes inside.”

“I’m the one who ordered it, and I want it stored outside.”

He stepped into her personal space. “I’d be careful with that uppity attitude, little girl.” She stared up at him, eyes wide.  She didn’t see his hand snake behind him to lock the door, nor when it slapped up and grabbed her by her hair.

She let out a yelp, but his mouth covered hers. She tried to break away but he backed her up until her back hit the wall. His lips brushed hers as he spoke. “If you scream, it will be bad for you. If you bite me, you’ll pay for it. You can’t really afford my fee, so be a good girl. There’s no one around the area, got it?”

She stared up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Her heart was thundering, and panic made her breath come in short gasps. The fist in her hair drew tight. “Open your fucking mouth. I wanna see if my cock is gonna fit.”

She didn’t want to.

Gods she didn’t want to.

Yet the fist tightened inexorably, painfully, in her hair. Her mouth opened.

He peered inside like he was inspecting a horse. And then he spat into her mouth. Saliva hit her tongue and the back of her throat. His other hand shot up and cupped her chin, pressing her mouth shut.

“Swallow it.”

His hand covered her mouth, and pinched her nose shut.

“I said to fucking swallow, you cunt!”

She trembled at the tone of his voice, and  what she had to do. She swallowed, gagging.  “Good slut.” He slapped her cheek. His hands slid down her shoulders to mash at her tits through her tee-shirt. She’d not bothered with a bra today, knowing that she was doing grunge work. His hands mangled her tits, finding and pinching the sensitive tips between his thumb and middle fingers.  He took a big step backwards, leaning towards her, and suddenly tugged her towards him  by her nipples, making her gasp and jump forward. He stepped and tugged again.

And laughed when she again leapt forward. Her nipples were screaming. After a few more steps around the room, he tired of the game, and hooking his leg around her ankle, pushed her to the dirty floor. In seconds he had her shirt around her neck, and began  slapping her tits. Pinching a rosy nipple, he backhanded it, only to repeat the move on her other breast. She whimpered and moaned under the assault.

“On your belly. Now!”

She flipped over, feeling the grit of the dirt she’d yet to clear from the floor. She’d given her crew an extended weekend, knowing the wood wouldn’t be delivered until later today. Her head banged against the floor as he roughly pulled her tee-shirt free.  In moments he’d tied her wrists behind her with the shirt, and then grabbing her ankles, he wrapped one into the same tie.

“Three-quarter hog tie will hold you. Be right back, sunshine!” She watched his feet move towards the door. He left it slightly ajar; she heard a truck door open. She tried to roll to her knee, and wound up on her hip. She tugged and pulled, but her wrists and ankle were tied tightly.  She hitched along, hoping she could get into the storage room, and lock the door.   Yet, only moments passed before she heard the slam of the truck door, and  his bootsteps against the concrete steps.

“Well, well, where did you think you were going, slut?”

She whimpered, and tried to wriggle faster, but his boots were in front of her face in seconds. “I don’t remember telling you to move, sunshine. What a bad girl you are.” He paused, and she felt his hands releasing her from the tie. “Then again, I do very much enjoy ‘bad’ girls.” He laughed at his own joke. He pulled her to her feet, fist in his hair again. She whimpered and mewled ‘ow ow ow’, which only made his hand tighten more. He pushed her away, and she fell against the wall.

“Get those clothes off.” His finger waved to her jeans and shoes. “Now!” he barked at her.

She shook her head, no. “I won’t.”

He stepped forward, and slapped her hard against her left tit. He hit hard, and she felt the burn of it through her breast, through her nipple. It felt like she was bruising, but she stared up at him, defiant.  He hit her tit again, and she winced. “I’m gonna hit your tit until you decide to strip for me.  As for me? I enjoy hitting your tit. You go ahead and take your time deciding.”

He slapped her tit again. It felt like this blow was harder than the prior ones. She felt heat, a deep searing pain. He seemed to be hitting in almost the exact same spot. Yet she could outlast him. She tried to move away, tried to cover her tit.

“Oh, so you’re not tough, and you can’t take it and you’re thinking I’m just gonna let you slide away?” He laughed. Grabbing a hunk of hair, he pulled her across the room. He’d hung a coil of rope on the doorknob.  It only took him moments to tie her hands together at the wrist. He took the end of the rope and pulled her deeper into the building. In the kitchen he found a thick hook over the door. Quickly he made a loop  and hoisted it into the hook. It pulled her to her tiptoes.

“That’ll keep you.” He nodded, satisfied, then pulled his belt from his pants. It made a hissing noise that sounded ominous.

“Please…” she whined. “Please…not…”

The belt was folded in half and slapped across her tit before she could finish.  “Beg,” he said with a sinister smile. “Beg some more, pretty girl…” He continued, striking hard across her jutting bosom. Her breath grew ragged, she bit her lip. Tears swelled and dripped as he rained blows onto her throbbing tits. They were crisscrossed in welts, red and blue bruises. Her nipples were engorged, throbbing. Dancing on her toes, she tried to get the words out, but only sobs sounded.

The belt hit the floor with the clink of the metal buckle on the old underlayment. She cried, soft whispers of sound. Tears blinded her; his fingers against her belly were a shock. In seconds her jeans were released, and he tugged them down her legs. His finger hooked into her panties, pulling them up into her slit and making her moan through the tears. He sawed them up and down a few times, reaching out to finger one swollen nipple.

Stepping away, he pulled  a knife from his pocket and sawed through her panties. The caress of the cold metal against her belly made her shudder in fear. He had a knife. He read the fear in her eyes, and traced the sharp tip around her nipple, pressing it gently into the flesh.  Sliding the blade away, he sucked the nipple into his mouth, biting firmly. His fingers slid between her thighs, pinching the soft skin there.

And found her wet when he touched her outer folds.

“Fucking whore! Your pussy tells me that you are enjoying every fucking minute of this. You little cunt!” He jabbed his finger up into her hole, feeling the heat and wet there. With a groan, he pulled it out, wiping the digit across her belly. He unzipped his jeans, letting his cock spring free. Even strung up as she was, he had to lift her hips to slid his thick tool into her pussy. She was so wet. So hot. He slid home easily.

“You fucking dirty whore, I’m gonna fuck you so hard your head is going to explode!”  Driving his mouth across her abused tits, biting and sucking, his fingers dug into her ass as he began pumping his rigid dick into her fuckhole.

The room was quiet, but for the wet sucking sounds of a cock sliding in and out of a soaked cunt.

His roar shattered the silence as his balls boiled his hot juice, spurting up into her belly. His fingers left marks on her round white ass, as he ground his pelvis against her, as his cock filled her with his semen. She rocked on the fullness inside of her, crying as his teeth bit into her tit. She  pulled against the restraint, as her body began to shake with her own orgasm.

He pulled out of her with a wet sound. He slapped her pussy, then tucking his spent cock into his pants, he zipped up, and bent to retrieve his belt.  She hung, toes cramping as she tried to keep herself from swinging as he passed by her. Moments later she heard the sound of the door opening,  then the sound of boards hitting the floor in the other room.

He was unloading the fucking truck.

She felt cum running down her legs, saw the pool of it on the floor between her feet.  Time stopped and started with every hollow thunk of lumber.  She didn’t know how long it was before he returned. Lifting her from behind, her arms felt thick and heavy as they fell forward.

He untied her wrists, laying her on the floor. “You can recover here, slut. But something to remember me by.” His hands were busy at her breast. In a moment, she felt the biting pain. “These are what we in the wood business call  ‘C’ clamps…use them all the time in the shop. This small pair makes perfect nipple clamps. I wouldn’t whine too much, slut. They can go tighter, and the appeal for that…stirs me. You have yourself a good day, slut. I left a copy of the delivery in with the wood.”

She saw his feet moving away, heard the back door open, then shut with a thud. In moments the sound of an engine running came to her, then moved away.  She sat up, body throbbing. It had been a long time since anyone had used her this way. Or perhaps she’d never been used this hard.  With shaking hands, she released the clamp on her left nipple.  Oh, gods it hurt as much coming off as it had going on. Maybe worse. She whimpered a little. Perhaps she’d wait to take off the other one. But it hurt to be on there, too.

Her cell phone chimed that she’d received text. Getting to her feet, she staggered over to her jeans, pulling the phone from her pocket. With a shaking hand, she looked at the screen.

“Next time you need some more “wood” be sure to give me a call.”

Dom Daniel had always had a warped sense of humor.

Dark Alley

raw, gratuitous, sexual violence ahead…mega dragons here today ~n~

“I said, shut the fuck UP, whore.”

He slapped her face, hard. His friend chuckled meanly, as he held her from behind.  A sock had been slipped over her clasped hands, then tied tightly around her wrists.

Its mate was even now being lodged inside her mouth. His fingers gripped her chin as he rammed it in. She coughed, gagging as she struggled to break free.

It was useless.

A strip of silver tape went over her mouth, making panic flutter in her chest. What if she coughed again? What if she vomited?

She tried to calm herself. The best way to survive now was to remain calm, to breathe slowly through her nose.




His hands grabbed either side of her shirt and jerked it wide, scattering buttons onto the dirty linoleum  floor. He leered at her tits, framed by her pink and lacy bra.

“oooh, slut is so pretty in her pink bra,” he crooned, before digging his hand into his front jeans pocket. He held the metal thing before her eyes, and with a snick the switch blade opened, narrowly missing her nose.

He waved it in front of her eyes, making her heart flutter in fear. She shook her head gently, ‘no’, and moaned, low in her throat.

Grabbing the bra roughly, he snigged the knife through the soft fabric nestled between her tits. Hooking his finger into one shoulder strap, he cut that, then the other. With a few tugs, the remnants of her favorite lingerie hung on his fat and dirty finger.

Holding her eyes with his, he let the bra slip to the floor, then traced the knife along the swell of her left breast, poking the point into her nipple.

She moaned again, trying to arch away, but the man behind her held her tightly. If she survived this, she would have terrible bruises on her arms. Already she felt her flesh hurting under his uncaring grip.

“Scared, whore?”

She shook her head. She was not a whore!

His eyebrows shot up and he traced a pattern on the other breast. A thin line of blood appeared, and she would have gasped if she’d not been heavily gagged. It took a moment for the pain to hit. It wasn’t a deep cut, a scratch really, but she was bleeding,  dammit!

Yet she remained still. Fighting now would only ensure that he hurt her worse. How she hated the smell of him.

The onions that he’d eaten for lunch, maybe days ago.

The smell of urine that wafted up with every movement.

He was dirty, and disgusting, gross.  The hands squeezing and tormenting her tits were grubby with grease, the nails black with it.

“such sweet titties. Gonna have a good, good time with these titties.”

The guy behind her was just as gross. His tongue slurped along the side of her throat, up into her ear. His spit wet her, filled her ear. He bit her earlobe, pulling on it the way a dog tugs meat off a bone.

Impatient now, they worked her jeans open, then tugged them down and off, along with her sneakers.  One of them dug in her pockets, grabbing the $20 she’d put in there.

She had just run down to the market for teabags and milk, dammit. They’d grabbed her at the edge of the alley, so close to her destination, and yet so far. They’d pulled her through a door jigged open, and along a dimly lit hallway, and into a room.

“Seen ya coming back and forth for the last few months, whore. Knew that someday we’d get to be in the same place, same time. Aren’t you a lucky slut, getting to play with the big boys instead of those wimpy men you fuck around with?”

She didn’t know how they knew all this about her. She’d only moved here about 3 months ago.

The slap on her tit was hard and brought her attention back to the man with the knife.

“Too bad we had to plug up her mouth…bet she gives good head,” laughed the guy holding her.

“That’s okay, our little whore has two other holes we can use. We’ll have to rock-paper-scissors to see who gets to fuck this sweet little hiney first, won’t we?”

She shook her head, grunting behind the gag.

No! no no no no no!

No one had ever … no!

She struggled, but the man behind her dug his fingers into her upper arms. She tried to kick, but the guy in front stepped in, pressing against her. She couldn’t move.

She twisted and tried to knee him.

His hand grabbed her hair, pulling her head towards her shoulder. His grip pulled her roots, and she would have screamed had she been able to.

“Don’t fuckin’ try that again, you fucking bitch-whore.”

Releasing her hair, a few strands tangled and pulled away from her sore scalp, drawing tears. The slap on her cheek jolted her head to the side.

“I like the way she wiggles when she fights” said the unseen man behind her. He ground his crotch against her ass. The denim was rough, and the rasp of the zipper scratching tender flesh made her wince.

It only took moments before she was tugged across the room to where a stained mattress lay pressed against the wall.

There was the sound of zippers being lowered. The man in front of her barked at his friend.

“Hold her.”

Then he lay down on the mattress. His cock jutted out from his open fly. It was fat and long.

“Come to Daddy,” he crooned, with a rancid laugh. She was shoved, hard, from the man behind her, and she fell forward, unable to stop herself.

He caught her and lowered her to his chest. His legs kicked open hers, and the man behind pressed her down as she struggled to get off. In moments her pussy was being stuffed with his dick.

She shook her head, she moaned and cried. Little sound passed through the gag, but he laughed at her whimpers.

“Little kitten here is meowing for her dick,” he laughed. His hips bounced as he buried his length inside her. His fingers bit into her hips, holding her there.

In seconds she felt the man behind her pressing his cock into the cleft of her ass. His hands pulled the globes of her ass apart and she heard him spit. The hot wetness hit her just above her anus.

She screamed but to no avail. His finger jabbed into her tight-puckered asshole, spreading his spit, tugging the recalcitrant hole open.

“Give me your ass, whore, give my cock your tight shithole,” he growled as he stretched her.

She fought, clenching hard, but that only made the man under her, who’s cock was buried in her pussy, laugh in delight.

“She’s fuckin’ milking my cock, tryin’ to keep your’s out,” he chortled. “You’re between a fuckin’ rock and a hard dick, whore,” he giggled. She tossed her head, tried to fight, but seconds later, she screamed as the second cock invaded her body.

It hurt. His cock pressed hard and deep. For a moment she prayed for it to end, for them to kill her and be done with it. The throbbing was intense and terrible. She was so filled down there that she thought they were ripping her apart.

She may have blacked out for a moment or two, fighting for precious breath.

She woke up to the man under her groaning in delight as the cock in her asshole sawed in and out of her.

“So fuckin tight,” he growled. “so good, jeezuz her asshole is like a fucking furnace, it’s so hot. What a good fuckhole…oh man, I’m gonna cum. Got that whore? I’m gonna blow a wad of fuck-juice up your shitpipe. ”

She felt his cock pulse, though she didn’t feel the surge of his seed inside of her. She cried out in shock as they rolled, still buried in her body.

In seconds, the man in her pussy began to fuck, brutally shoving his cock deeply into her belly. She grunted through the gag with the force. His hands grabbed her tits, using them like anchors, tugging and twisting them with every surge of his thick tool between her legs.

The cock in her ass had been deflating, but the fucking was beginning to stir it to life. Her ass began to stretch again as his rod grew harder, thicker. He was moaning against her ear, his breath so disgusting she wanted to vomit.

The feeling of his cock growing inside of her made her tremble. Horrified, she realized she was going to cum. The cock in her pussy was hitting that spot that her boyfriend never managed to hit. He was deep-thrusting, and so large that every pull rubbed her. She came, back arching, in one of the most violent orgasms of her life.

He stopped, staring at her in amazement.

“You really are a fucking whore, aren’t you, cunt? What a little piece of fuck-meat you are. Fight like a prima donna, then cum like a whore.”

He pressed harder and faster then, even as the man in her ass trembled through another orgasm. She felt it then, the wetness leaking from her holes, as she, and they, squirted over each other. She fainted.


She woke slowly, body throbbing. She touched her pussy. It was wet, and sore. She ran her tongue around her dry mouth, and coughed.

Blinking, she saw that she was behind her apartment building, behind the dumpster. She was naked. Feeling around the ground in a panic, she found the tattered remains of her shirt, and her keys to her apartment. Her jeans, her money, gone.

There were no lights on in the building. It was late. She rose to her feet, unsteady. Grabbing her shirt, she pulled it on. It didn’t cover much. She made a dash for her apartment, praying that no one would see.


He looked up at her as she slid into the apartment. His eyebrows raised as he sipped his beer, and looked her over.


She smiled, crossing to him, kissing him hard.

“Thank you, Master.”


for sin…just in case you thought i wouldn’t? i did!   just in case you thought i couldn’t…hell yes i did!! oh, there is a dragon here, but he’s small and cute and fuzzy….just sayin’….

They thought it was  a fucking riot.

Letting her play poker, at her endless begging. Going to “help” her learn to play the game, they’d said.

“It’s like this, girl,” her Master had said. “We’re going to teach you the hard way. School of hard knocks way. You lose, you lose your shirt. Got it?”

She had thought He’d meant her cash, or some metaphoric “lose your shirt,” not the real-deal, “off with the pretty top, girl” kind of thing.

She should’ve known better of course, HE always meant what He said, and if she had a question she should have asked it at the outset.

She shivered as the a/c drew goosebumps along her spine, down her tits, hardened her nipples.

“I wanna suck them.” Her Masters best friend, Max couldn’t take his eyes off her big hard nipples, her round and full tits.

“Go ahead,” He said, waving a hand negligently. Her eyes widened. He had always promised this…”someday”…slut, someday.

Today was “Some Day”, apparently.

Max didn’t need to be asked twice. He all but leapt from his chair,  and grabbing a fistful of hair, pulled her from hers.  Bending her into an arch, his lips and teeth explored her left tit. Nips and sucking drew pain-and-pleasure points along her flesh. Where his lips left a damp trail, gooseflesh rose in the chill air of the room. She shivered.

“She looks hot for old Max, ”  Ethan said, laying his hand on the table. “I’m wondering about using her as your kitty.”

Her Master raised an eyebrow at her, smiling that wicked smile that turned her on, and turned her knees to jelly.

“You think I should use my pussy as my kitty?” He said, amused. That drew a short, hard laugh from Adam.  “So, what to you propose, gentleman? Winning hand gets a hole?”

There were nods and smiles around the table. Max sat down with her on his knee, fondling her tits.

“Max, no playing with the kitty” her Master admonished.

His smile widened as she was pushed to the floor between Max’s thighs.


She ached. Her jaw throbbed, from sucking cocks to the point of absolute hardness.

Her asshole throbbed, from taking three cocks, hard and deep, as her Master encouraged them to “use the little fucktart well”.

Her pussy was wet from the last fucking, her Master’s cum leaking down her thigh.

Her face was pressed against the coffee table, her tits mashed under her, her knees on the floor.

She was tied, thighs spread wide, each leg attached to a table leg, her arms tied over the table. She was open and available for use.

The poker game was long forgotten. Cans of beer, empty now, littered the living room.  The television was on, turned to the football game. The game was in the throes of overtime, the hometown team fighting hard to recapture the ball as the opposing players pushed downfield.

Max had left after a call from his girlfriend, so Master and his two remaining friends took a break from tormenting her, and were eating pizza.

The smell of it tantalized. Her thirst was unquenched.

She knew better than to interrupt an overtime game, however.  She inhaled deeply, slowly, when the sound of the back door opening and closing startled her out of her mindfulness meditation.

There was yapping, and the sound of nails scrabbling across the floor, and an annoyed mans voice.

“Goddamn it, you dumb fuck dog, get down!” Max was back.  “I’m baaa-ack” he hollered to the guys as he strolled through the kitchen, stuffing  pizza in his mouth.

“Ssssh!” came the roar from three throats as they watched to see if the fucking upstarts would capitalize on a penalty call that gave them 5 extra yards.

“FUCK!” They yelled almost in unison as the runningback zinged through the defensive line like a hot knife through butter, making yet another first down, and crossing in to the 49th yard on the home teams side.

She jolted as a cold, wet nose pressed against her thigh and began to sniff up her leg.

“Hey!” she burst out, wiggling her ass as best she could. “Hey, mutt, cut it out…”

Max came over as if to pick up the offending pooch. Her Masters voice came from over her head.

“No, leave it. I wanna see what happens next. Worlds smallest dog licks pussy?”

“He’s a licker,” Max said, “Michaela is always pushing Him away. Yeah, I know Wellington, all you want is a taste of pussy, dontcha, boy. Even if you are a dumb fuck of a dog.”

The dog sat back on his haunches, looking for all the world like he was grinning.


“Damned Pomeranian’s,” Max grumbled.  His girlfriend had pipe dreams of raising a championship dog. He’d wanted a pug but no. She wanted Poms.

“What kind of a guy walks around with one of those at the end of a leash? I wanted a mans dog.”

“A gay guy? Now shut the fuck up…overtime, man.”

At a quick hand-gesture from Max, Wellington resumed his sniff-and-lick up her leg.

It tickled.

It was warm where his tongue lapped, then cold when he moved on. She shivered. His tongue drew closer to her pussy. And closer. The faintest brush of the edge of his lapping on her plump and swollen outer lip.

She gasped, and he drew back, unsure what to make of this human spread before him, yet half-expecting that push and “go away Wellington” that he always got from his mommy.

He looked around the room, at the men watching the talking box, and the one staring at him, with sharp eyes and a smile. Taking that smile for encouragement, Wellington stepped up on the back of her calf, and lifted up to the delightful smelling aperature before him.

He licked, he lapped, he all but shoved his nose into the tasty, warm hole. So good. He licked. So good! He lapped.

His tongue burrowed deeply up inside the hole, and for a second, he felt the squeezing clench around him. Almost instantly he was rewarded with a gush of the sweet and sticky fluid.

She was moaning like crazy.

The fucking dog licked her pussy and she came.

Her Master lifted her face by her hair.

“You really are a fucking bitch now, aren’t you, slut?” His cock was hard and heavy in his hands as he moved towards her.

As the dog kept up his attentions on her pussy, her Master began to slowly fuck her mouth. She came again, faster, harder than before. She tried to tell Him it was too much, but her mouth was full of cock, and He was taking his time in taking his pleasure from her.

He knew what she wanted of course.

But really, this would be the tale of a lifetime, and a great story to share in the nursing home someday.

Not to mention sharing on her blog.

Ha ha!


Short ‘n sweet, this came to me one morning recently, just as i opened my eyes….

She knelt, eyes looking ahead as a finger probed her asshole. She tried not to wince, or moan, but the sensation was at once painful, and teasing on the edge of pleasure.

She held position as one finger became two.

Her Master lifted her chin staring impassively into her eyes as her bottom was deeply explored.

She felt the telltale heat of her blush begin to flush across her cheeks, as He watched her.

“Does that turn you on, slut?” He crooned to her, his voice soft, his words fringing on hurtful. She felt her blush deepen as his eyes bored into hers, as she murmured a soft ‘yes Master’.

How embarrassing, to have her ass poked and examined by another, a friend of her Master’s.

How embarrassing was it, to have them discuss her body as if she wasn’t there?

How frigging embarrassing it was, to be so turned on by it!

They talked about all of her. Her tightly puckered asshole. Her dripping cunt. Her swollen clit.

They talked about the pretty stripes across her ass, the contrast of the crimson lines crisscrossing her pale cheeks.

He dropped her chin, and rose.

She felt them behind her, the pair of them, looking at her there. 

Fingers in her ass, fingers in her pussy, the laughter of two dominants pleased with their game.

“Innocent enough to still blush,” came his friends comment.

“Yet skilled enough to please.” Said her Master,  proudly.

The blindfold slipped over her hair, covering her eyes, hiding the upper curves of her pinkened cheeks.

A cock pushed against her lips, as a cock pushed into her ass. Her gasp of pain opened her mouth, and in one hard thrust, her ass and throat were filled with cock.

It was  dream come true for her, a fantasy she had haltingly confessed to Him one day not long ago.

She recalled his excitement as she had admitted to such a slutty fantasy, yet now, as she was fucked hard from both ends, an inner smile overcame the blush.