Violated

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

~nilla~

 

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.

 

 

“Master, I’d Like You to Meet….

….Mr. Hitachi.”

That’s how I rehearsed how I was going to introduce them, at least. My imaginings never quite match up to His reality. (Imagine that!)

I left it out on the back of the bed (which is against the wall so it couldn’t roll off). It was plugged in and ready to rumble. He started on me the second we got into the room (after having a leisurely and lovely dinner together)–pulling my head back to His shoulder by my hair. Kissing me hard, while squeezing my tit. I think I screamed into His mouth then. I thank the goddess every time we play that He didn’t go into mammography! He throws me onto the bed and is pinching me everywhere. I’m squirming and trying to keep my whimpers down so it doesn’t sound like He is murdering me, but oh! How it hurts (and OH, how good that is, too) as His hands roam over me.

He attacks my toes. I try to curl my toes so that He can’t take the socks off the last bit there, and He laughs.

“Yeah, like that’s going to stop me, nilla,” He chortles.

One hard flick and my sock sails across the room, and His dastardly fingers are tickling my toes…between, underneath, over the sole of my foot…even now that makes my toes curl. I laughed and laughed, the damnedest torture, ever. I’m gasping for breath, and He looks up at me.

“Oh, too much?” He says sweetly. (Don’t you go on immediate alert when that Dom voice gets all sugary?) His hands move, fast as lightning in midsummer, pinching my soft and tender belly, tugging and twisting my nipples (how did He get His hands into my bra that fast?? Years of practice, He says, grinning smugly.) Suddenly giggles are transformed to moans of pain. Back and forth between the two tortures He moves, until my head is spinning.

From far away I hear His voice but in truth I am already half-way gone.

“Whoa ho…well well well, and what is this, nilla?  His voice is filled with glee. “I’d forgotten you said you’d gotten this…”

His voice fades away as He flicks the button on, presses it against His hand. He grunts as He dismisses “low” (the ONLY setting I use, mind you), and flicks it to “HIGH”. And presses it against my pussy.

My pussy was wet and swollen and wanting some action after all the torment from tickling and pinching…but having Mr. H land on her in “HIGH” mode almost made my clit explode.

I yelped (He laughed), and squirmed–but He was laying on my arm and hair and His leg hooked over mine. My other leg dangled off the bed, at such an angle that I couldn’t touch the floor with my toes, nor get good contact to brace my leg enough to cross it over my crotch.

In other words, I was fucked.

He laughed as my first orgasm spurted out of me, shutting off the vibe to feel how wet I was, then immediately flicking it back on. On “HIGH”.

And laughing.

 

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?”

“xmfus”

“How many months?”

“x”

“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.”

“Sir.”

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.

Desire (5)

A whirlwind of sensations swirled through her. The gentleness he’d used before had been replaced by its opposite. Her nipples ached from the pinches, her pussy throbbed from smacks of his heavy hand.

She lusted.

Uncertain as to why her body had awakened so intensely to lust as he had hit her, she could only lay there and burn. He’d left her side after smiling at her with a wicked grin. Across the room, his back to her, she watched him disrobe. The shadows danced with candle light across his back, a perfect metaphor for what was unfolding here. Light and dark, inexorably intertwined.

He’d brought her to the height of sexual need with the pain, and now let it ebb. Except…it wasn’t.  If anything, her desire grew in intensity. She wanted…needed…to be fucked. She doubted she’d ever wanted  more intensely in her life, ever. She watched as he slipped out of his jeans,  nearly drooling at the tight curves of his ass as he bent to remove his socks. The view did  nothing to tamp down the waves of lust building between her thighs. Her nipples were fully erect, painfully erect. She discovered she was almost panting, tugging at her wrists as if she could pull herself free, get herself off.

Her bonds held tight. Her lust was restrained, held at his whim. The words he’d spoken earlier came back to her. “Part of submission is learning to wait. Waiting for my desires, will heighten yours.” She didn’t think she could get any higher.

He turned then, moving towards her. He held a short cane in his teeth, and a golden foil packet in his hands. As he moved, he tore open the condom, slipping it over his rigid shaft easily. Her eyes moved over him, hungry for every detail.

He mounted the bed, and for a moment, his entire body was illuminated for her. Hair arrowed down his lower body, drawing her attention to that which she craved most. Her eyes rose to meet his. He rose up, straddling her, sitting on her lower body. His cock rested on her mons, definitely not where she wanted it. His legs pressed against her and the heat of his ass resting on her upper thighs only added to the heat she felt inside.

If he didn’t fuck her soon, she might just go up in flames!

“You want.”

She nodded. His eyes held hers. There was a magnetism there that was hard to ignore. He slapped the small cane across her tits. Arching, she cried out. Though the thing was slender, it stung! Again he zinged it across her tit, then slapped the other.

She moaned, deep in her throat, a gutteral, animal sound of pain and lust. Her hips bucked under his ass, even as he landed blows across her nipples. The sting there only served to intensify the throb of her aching clit.

“Slut.”

Staring down at her, his eyes bore into hers. Her gaze held steady, but she felt the flush of embarrassment rushing through her. It only served to make the wet flesh between her thighs burn hotter.

Quick as a flash, he slapped her tit with his hand. She gasped. It hurt! It was sudden, unexpected, shocking. The blows kept coming. Left tit, right tit. He was unrelenting, slapping sides, top, undersides. Her tits bounced around her chest, beginning to pink, then redden. It hurt, the blows coming on top of the criss-crossed lines from the cane. She moaned. A tear slipped from her eyes, but in the commingled feeling of need and pain, she barely noticed it. Another deep moan, louder this time, filled the room. He smiled down at her as he beat her tits. She felt them swelling, felt like they would simply explode from the blows. The ache was intense, her nipples throbbing sharply with each blow.

Why was she moaning?

As if separate from herself, she felt the pain, but there was a responding tingle in her clitoris.  Slap-tingle. Slap-tingle. Reaching forward, he grasped both nipples and squeezed. Her mouth opened in a silent cry, until he started to pull his hands up. Still holding her nipples tightly, he pulled upwards, as if trying to tug her tits off of her chest by them. When it seemed that there was no more flesh, no more resilience, he twisted the nipples he held.

The pain was incredible. She cried out, shocked at the intensity of this new pain. And when he dropped her tits, it was almost as painful, as blood rushed into her abused nipples. He watched as she whimpered, moaned, tossing her head side to side as she tried to cope with the assault.

Shifting his hips, he let the tip of his cock tease at her slit. The shock of pleasure was as intense as the pain had been.

“I’m going to hurt you when I fuck you.”

The dark words sent a spear of lust straight to her core, even as his shaft pierced her folds. Without preamble, he jabbed his cock into her. It hurt, as her sex-starved pussy was suddenly filled with him. He fucked her viciously, using her hole to satisfy his own need. His body covered hers, and his mouth savaged her tits. Reaching between them, his fingers found her swollen clit and pinched.

She came in an explosion of light, color, motion. Her pussy clamped down on his thrusting cock as if it would never let go. He pushed through her grasping pussy, further exciting her, and making her orgasm roll on and on. She’d never been fucked while having her orgasm-the feeling was intense. Incredible. And still he fucked. He pounded her roughly, shoving every millimeter of cock into her cunt. His balls slapped at her ass, as he withdrew an inch, then grunting, pressed hard into her, short little fucks as if to pierce her belly. Her cervix screamed as he hit it hard several times, and her orgasm continued to roll through her.

It was one long, undulating wave of pleasure, wrapped in a cocoon of pain.

He pulled out of her pussy, and rose from her, gasping. Sweat rolled down his face, gleamed on his chest. His fingers slid into her pussy, then lower, pressing into her ass. One finger, making her whimper at that unfamiliar sensation. She knew. She knew what was coming next. For a moment, she wondered about that safeword. Two, two fingers in her asshole, then quickly, three. Twisting, turning, fucking as they widened her, and before she could think, his thumb pressed on her clit, mashing it hard, as his cock pierced through her back door.

Her mouth opened in a howl, but it came out as a deep, guttural grunt. He pressed hard, worked his way deeply into her bowels, filling her ass with his rigidity. For a moment, he lay upon her, buried deep, and let her breathe.

“Good whore. Going to fuck your ass hard, fill you with my jizz.” His words were dark, whispered into her cheek. And then he moved. Hips sliding down, then back, sawing his way in and out of her pooper. Her anus felt stretched beyond measure; every withdrawal was like taking the most incredibly sensual shit. Every filling of her hole was like being fucked by a baseball bat. It felt like he was bigger with every thrust.

Yet his thumb continued to play with her clit, her pussy began to tingle. As unbelievable as it was, she felt another orgasm building, building fast. As his pace increased, as he began to slam into her ass with the same force he’d fucked her cunt with, she felt the run of moisture between her thighs.

“Whore…you came. I felt that!” He was chuckling into her ear, biting her earlobe. His thumb rubbed her clit harder, faster, as his thrusting grew deeper. Soon he was grunting, and she knew he would cum. His hand rose to her tits, both closing into fists over her breasts, making her squirm to get away from the pain. His pelvis ground down on her pussy, the hair of his groin rubbing her lower lips, and pulling another climax from her, even as he shouted his own cumming.

***************************

The steady throb of her ass woke her. She lay cradled in his arms, sated. They were sticky, sweaty, and entwined deeply with one another.

“You were a good slut.” His voice, the honey of his voice, made her smile.

“Thank you Sir.”

“We’re not done slut. Just on temporary hiatus.”

The words filled her with a curiously light sensation. One she recognized for what it truly was.

Happiness.

Continuing Adventures of Klutz Slut

He knocked on the door in that peremptory way that she adored. In that series of hard, firm knocks, she felt his unspoken command…to her it said, I’m here, slut, open the fucking door.

She’d been running a bit behind, and had been in the bathroom, struggling to attach the last frigging garter to her hose. She’d wriggled and twisted and finally got that last damn one on. How the hell women did that every day back in the ’40’s was an amazement to her. She straightened her corset, adjusted her boobage, and at his knock, did a fast check in the mirror to make sure her lipstick was on correctly.

She felt the “exercise” balls  inside her pussy move with her. He’d told her to insert them first thing. It had been tricky, but she’d gotten it done. They made her horny…then again she was always horny!

Turning, she tripped on the bathroom rug and slid a few feet before catching herself on the door jamb. Geezuz! Holding onto the frame for a minute, she heard his impatient knocking on the door, again. Uh oh. He did so very much hate waiting.

Click clak, her heels tapped across the floor.  The right one was clacking more than clicking. Looking down, she saw the strap had snapped, likely when she’d done the half-gainer across the bathroom floor. She reached the door, whipping it open just in time for him to rap her forehead.

He laughed. He didn’t apologize, as she rubbed her head and scowled.

“That’ll teach you to be more prompt, slut,” was all he said as he moved past her. She shut the door, leaning against it for a moment. Bastard!  He had already moved down the hall to her bedroom.

“Did something explode in here?” he asked, looking around her room.

“Um. No. I just..had trouble deciding what to wear.” Quickly she scooped up discarded hose, two corsets, a chemise, and stuffed them into her closet. She shook off the broken shoe, but before she could reach for a new pair, he grabbed her from behind.

“I like this one. Like the posture, too.” His hands caressed her ass as she hung there, bent over, one foot flat on the ground, the other in a 5 inch stiletto.

“Sir…” she protested.

“Stay right there, slut.” His tone carried just a hint of warning. A ‘move at your peril’ tone.  She heard him rummage in the black bag he’d thrown onto the bed. Oh my. She both hated and loved that bag.

He returned, stroking down the ribbon of the back garter.

“Liking the way this looks, stretched over your ass like this.” There was a sharp *smack* and she yelped. His hand. He’d slapped her with his hand.

Fake out.

“Hey! Ouch!” Rearing up, she’d turned, just as he snapped the short flail on her back. One tendril whipped up, catching the corner of her eye. The absolute shock of it made them both freeze for a moment, then she dissolved into a fit of giggles. She could only think of “You’ll put your eye out kid” from A Christmas Story. She collapsed onto her knees, then just lay on the floor guffawing. For a moment, he stood there, looking at her.

Between guffaws, she managed to spit out the line.

“You’ll put….” laugh, laugh laugh…

“…your eye…” guffaw, moan

“out…”

“KID,” they spoke in unison, as they both laughed. The moment of hilarity was cathartic, and a nice transition from her shaky start.  He checked her eye, which was fine, wiping away her laughter tears with one hand, while pinching her left nipple with his other. The sharp tug of pain shut off her giggles like the snap of a switch.

She moaned.

He smiled, pinching harder.

She yelped as he tugged her upward. Quickly she moved, forgetting the missing shoe, and canting suddenly to the leeward, she thought he would pull her nipple off.

“OW” she screeched.

“Slut! For fucks sake, move!” He was impatient now, never a good thing. He grabbed the full meat of her breast, and hauled her upwards, then shoved her back onto the bed.

With a gasp, she felt the balls in her pussy shift and press against her g-spot.

“Sir!” Was all she could manage before the pressure became unbearable. Lifting her legs, his fingers parted her folds even as her belly clenched and her orgasm cascaded through her.

“You little slut!” He laughed. What a relief, he was delighted and not mad at her for cumming. Then again it had been out of her control. His palm caressed the wetness, the heel of his hand rubbing roughly across her clit as he cupped her. A finger probed into her clenching hole, and she whimpered as another orgasm grew fast on the heels of the first.

“Sir..I…”

“Cum, slut…cum hard for me..” His eyes drank in the view of her madly convulsing pussy,  as she twitched and moaned again. Sliding her legs over his shoulders, his hand moved away, quickly replaced by his mouth. She knew how much he enjoyed eating her, and in seconds she felt his tongue caressing her, delving into each valley, sucking each plump lip into his mouth. He sucked, he lapped, he bit, his finger pushing those fucking Ben-wa balls around her cunt.

She lost count of the orgasms he pressed her through. She lost consciousness twice. And still his mouth attacked her. It was a different type of torture, but it was torture. Pleasure, as a weapon. She moaned as a finger pressed into her ass, sawing in and out, and gave into the indescribable pleasure again.

 *****

She roused to find him peering down at her. He was laying against her side, fingering her nipples.

“Welcome back,” he greeted her.

She felt full. Exhausted. Her mouth was dry as the Sahara, but her pussy was drenched.

“I really wanted to fuck you when you were out there,” he waved his hands towards the ceiling. “In subspace. But we have a problem slut.”

Blinking, she looked up at him, confused. Why was there a problem with him fucking her? He could do anything to her just now, with zero resistance. She was wrung out on sex, high on the endorphins cruising through her body.

“The balls, slut.”

She shook her head trying to clear the last dregs of orgasm-sloth from her brain.

“You told me to insert the balls, Sir,” She spoke slowly and carefully, like a drunk trying to not slur in front of the cops.

“Right. But the string, slut. It needs to hang out of your cunt so that I can remove them when I want to fuck you.”

sexual overdrive (5)

She stood just inside the doorway of his kitchen. Far from her perception of a dom, he was busy preparing food for them. She’d thought that being a submissive was all about service, kind of like a maid, she guessed.

Watching him as he moved around his kitchen was a definite turn-on. Her eyes were drawn again to the tight black tee shirt, the play of muscles in his back as he worked. His arms were strong, his hands, dexterous. She felt herself salivating over him. Gods, this was weird. Well…she’d wanted to explore being with a “dom”…and it looked like she was really getting a full-on experience with Sir Bill.

She wondered if she should offer to help. As if reading her mind, He  pointed to a cushion on the floor beside a table,  and said “sit”. Silently she crossed the kitchen, and sat. Her head just missed brushing the lower-than-average table, and she knew it was made for him to wheel his chair under.

He poured wine, one glass, and sipped from it.  After seeming to ignore her for a few minutes, he wheeled over to her and granted her one tiny taste.  Leaning down, he  kissed her deeply and thoroughly, so all that remained in her mouth was the memory of wine, and the taste of him. He moved back to what he had been doing before shutting off her brain with that kiss.

She’d seen from the outside that his house was modern. From the inside,  it was apparent that it had been designed for him, as the appliances were all within his reach.  Even the sink had been designed to be used by someone in a chair. Cabinets were lower, with wire shelving that pulled out, and down. Even the oven was modified, opening from the side, like a microwave.  He pulled a pizza from the oven with ease, sliding it onto the the shelf below the oven to slice it.

She’d been here, on a pillow on the floor for-fucking-ever, it felt. She shifted again, trying to restore feeling to her left foot. She was being attentive to what he was saying, but still, she wasn’t five anymore. Sitting on a cushion on the floor was well outside of her “normal”. She was learning, from his conversation as he worked, that things happened at his whim. Or plan. Or whatever. If he wanted her to sit, then sit she would. The idea of him treating her like a kid, or a …she shied away from the thought. She wasn’t a thing.

Was she?

Still, sitting here and just being,  in a way that focused her on the present and not the past nor future was surprisingly erotic. His voice broke into her musing.

“come here, slut.”

It was the first time that he’d called her that, and it gave her a funny feeling in her belly. A bit of humiliation, with a side of sexual punch. Her pussy pulsed back to life, after laying quiescent. She started to push up off the pillow, to stand, but he forestalled that.

“No, on your knees is fine.” He patted the side of his leg. “come here, Melody, come crawl to your Sir.”

He’d slid them both into a scene as easily as he’d slid that pan onto the counter. She was caught up with him now, with what would come next. The smell of food made her mouth water. The sight of him, and what he was making her do made her pussy wet.

Crawling across the floor to him, she knelt at his side. He offered her another sip of wine from his cup, then kissed it away again.  She felt her head spin as her pussy began leaking copiously. Moaning into his mouth, she braced her hand on his thigh. His hand took hers, pulling it around to the small of her back, even as he deepened the kiss. His mouth sucked on her tongue, fiercely, until she felt as if he was attempting to pull it from her mouth. Her moans became whimpers, and still he sucked. Her fingers curled around his hand, his hand pulled her closer. Her shoulder ached from the unfamiliar pose, hand behind her back, tugged upwards as he pulled her forward, harder into the assault on her mouth. She barely noticed-she was drowning in sensations. When he broke the kiss, he gently slapped her cheek with his free hand.

When he released her, she felt…liquid. As if her bones had melted. As if she was a giant orgasm poised on the brink of explosion. Trembling, she gazed up at him, beginning to understand the power, and the draw of submitting. No one had ever made her feel this way before, not from a few burning kisses.

“Sit.”

She collapsed more than sat, still watching him carefully. He took a slice of pizza, and a healthy bite. She sat, watching him eat the entire piece. She felt quizzical. Wasn’t he supposed to give her some? The wine was an echo of flavor in her mouth, and her stomach rumbled as he ate two more pieces, seeming to ignore her presence beside him.  She thought about pointing out to him that he wasn’t alone, that she was sitting here and starving, but some restraint kept her silent, and focused.

She swallowed when he did, her mouth pooled with saliva as he chewed carefully. The smell of melted cheese and warm sauce wafted to her, and her tummy grumbled in protest.

He glanced down at her.

And went back to eating. The bastard. Of all the fucking nerve. She felt both indignant…and horny. The dichotomy was annoying. Puzzling. Frustrating!

He took another piece. Tipping back his head, he opened his mouth wide, and glanced down at her.

And laughed.

“You look mad as a wet hen,” he said, laying the pizza on his plate. And laughed again. She stayed quiet, something that her co-workers would find amazing. She was never quiet when she was outraged. He dragged his finger across the top of the slice. A bit of oil, a dash of sauce caught on the pad of his finger.

“Close your mouth.”

He painted her lips with the mixture, then turned back to the table. And ate the fucking pizza slice. She sat, fuming, as the teasing smell wafted to her nose. The urge to lick was nearly overwhelming.  He turned to her with the wineglass once more.

She sipped, leaving a smear of sauce on the rim of the glass. She moaned in frustration.

“So close, and yet so far,” he murmured, before taking a fistful of hair and her mouth. He bit her lips, licking them clean, then sucked her mouth dry. Her head spun. She was alive, full of sensations. Without realizing, she wound her arms around his neck; he pulled her easily off the floor and onto his lap.

His fingers slid under her skirt, pushing aside the wet crotch of her panties as he probed the wet folds. She felt the push of them against her pussy, the intrusion of them into her cunt, and whimpered into his mouth. He finger-fucked her hard, not breaking the kiss as he worked her body, top and bottom. She came, hard, into his hand, whimpering and moaning against his lips.

“Good girl, good girl,” he murmured against her hair. She felt his hand leaving her, leaving her feeling empty, and drained.

“Here’s your dinner, slut.” He lifted his fingers, wet from her pussy, to her mouth.

sexual overdrive (1)

She had a hunger. It burned and coiled through her body, like the fabled snake. It curled in her belly, and stretched along her spine. She lusted.

Poring over online catalogs for sex toys didn’t help that hunger abate, not by a long shot. She was on sexual overdrive, that was for sure. And she needed an outlet way better than the battery operated boyfriend that lay in the box next to her bed.

Her computer was tabbed to three websites. The sex toy site was over that of that blog she liked…the one with all the Xplicit content. Well, all the good sex blogs had that. This one had pictures. Stories. Toy reviews. It was something that she only allowed herself to do on Friday nights. The third tab was that dating site for submissives.

Except.

She wasn’t sure she was one.

She pondered that for a while. The thought of someone …hitting her. It should be anathema.  She clicked open another tab and found that blog with all the bondage on it. Hitting the link in the sidebar, she found the website with all those free movie clips.

Gods. That …Dominant…was hitting the tiny blonde with the giant jugs ….with a whip.

Who did that?

Who “submitted” to that?

And why were her panties soaked? Horrible! Heinous. Hateful. Just …no. That wasn’t her at all.

But every date she’d had in weeks had bored her to tears.

She clicked back to the website for submissives. She opened her profile. Eleven hits.

She’d posted her profile 10 minutes ago.

Somehow she felt like a tasty snack thrown into the shark tank.  She read the offerings. OH, right. Like she wanted to jump into this and be branded by GuyTop402.

“Right” she said aloud. “Yeah, I wanna wear your mark on my ass forever and I’ve not even figured out if I am a submissive or not. Did you even *read* my profile you dumbass?”

She growled at the mean looking face on her monitor. Maybe this meant this “lifestyle” wasn’t for her after all. Her throbbing clit told another tale.  She clicked through guys 2-5, female top 6, and read number 7. He was 18 years her junior. That just seemed wrong. And he liked to be called Daddy?

“Let’s get serious Daddy,” she spoke to the clean-faced youth’s picture. “I was born way before you. I’d start laughing hysterically if I had to call you Daddy. Babyface, sure. But daddy? No way, no how.”

With a sigh, she clicked off the screen. Another profile popped up. She blinked. Shit, she hated when her cursor did that, slid down the monitor from where she meant to click. She needed to get that fi…whoa.

She blinked, leaned closer to the monitor.

“Your new at this, I see. Curious. Curious is good, but you need to be safe. This isn’t the best place to meet a new partner you know. Lot of guys (and gals) looking for fresh meat to scratch an itch. I hope you’ll take time to sift through the drek, and perhaps write back to me. We can talk offline, then see if that clicks, maybe talk. I will ask you to be safe as you sift through options, okay? This isn’t an easy place for newbies. Sincerely, Dom Bill.”

She re-read it. There was nothing overly sexual. Nothing demanding. Just a warning to take care. Like maybe he thought of her as a person and not just a grouping of sex-holes?

She took a deep breath, feeling her heart pounding. For all she knew, he didn’t even live near her. Several of the responders were from the other side of the country, for gosh sakes.  Nonetheless, she copied his email address and dashed off a quick email.

“Dear Dom Bill,

Thank you for the warning. I will be very careful. Was that a line meant to get my attention?

It worked.

Sincerely,

Uncertain in New London”

Jittery, she rose from the computer. A shower would help. Yet standing under the spray, she shivered.  She’d taken a step. She was scared. Nervous. And wet. NOT from the shower spray. She felt between her thighs, fingering her clit, her pussy lips. There was a slickness there not borne of water, but of a deep-seated hunger. Leaning into the corner, she fucked her pussy fast, feeling her knees melting as her orgasm cascaded through her. Eyes shut, gasping, she held there a moment, then quickly lathered up.

She wondered if Dom Bill had responded.

Barrier

Thank you Donna! (aisha, that’s all the warning you get! LOL!) oh, and p.s…..this is verrah long…no serializing this one! ~n~

She’d been fascinated by the sea her entire life. Perhaps it was all the treks to Cape Cod with her mom and aunts and gram as a child. Summers were lazy days spent in the hot sun and cool surf. There were quiet times, and excitement….nothing got the summer visitors going more than shark sightings, unless it was when a pod of whales cruised off the southernmost tip of  Provincetown.  From the Pilgrim Tower you could see Massachusetts bay to the west, and the deep green-blue of the open Atlantic to the East, skirting the white, white sands curling south, until it turned westward back towards the bulk of the Massachusetts coastline.

She had many memories of those foggy morning walks with the surf whispering at her feet, catching sea stars and tossing them back into the water, or surprising a family of sandpipers, running on their funny legs at the white frothy edge where water met sand.  She remembered sand between her toes, as well as in a lot of other less desirable places, and the beating of the sun on her upturned nose, turning the part in her blonde hair pink.

When she graduated High School, she spent her last summer on the Cape with her womenfolk, then headed off to college to study marine biology. Trekking around the world at Spring or Winter break, she spent time in tropical islands, and one memorable school-sponsored trek to Madagascar.

Now she swam at in the deep blue waters above the Great Barrier reef. Marine life abounded here, and she’d had several thrilling adventures already. There was a purported count of some 1,500 different fish,   as well as sea-snakes, mollusks, and three varieties of sea turtles.  Thus far her favorite sightings included the white-sided dolphins that frolicked in these waters.

It stunned her.

The reef, immense and diverse, was teeming with life. Every dive held its own special fascination. Today, Marc was taking her out, just her and just him. It was, to her mind, almost a date. No scheduled classes, no itinerary.  No diving today, the idea was that they would just snorkel along the surface, and merely observe the goings on in the reef below, without actually becoming part of it.

She knew Marc was hoping to see the giant squid that was rumored to exist here at the outermost edges of the great reef.  There were no other boats out this early in the day, just them, and the burgeoning disk of the sun rising through clouds.

“Red sky in morning, sailor take warning,” she chanted to herself. They’d have to keep an eye to the sky. The small boat sat calmly in the sea as dawn broke around them.

“Ready?” At her nod, Marc looked her up and down. Her bikini showed her lovely breasts to perfection, full, ripe and round. The briefs were, in point of fact, very brief. He wasn’t sure why, he’d certainly swum with other nubile college girls over his career, but this one? Made him nervous as hell.

They slipped into the water, their swimfins barely making a splash as they kicked away from their boat. The sea was warm, nearly hot, a caress across their skin. Summer in the southern hemisphere meant heated seas, mating flush in all the creatures, the burgeoning of life,  even as the northern hemisphere shivered in the chill of a January snowstorm. Together they moved through the water, peering into the still-dark depths. Occasionally her belly was tickled by an inquisitive fish, or she would catch the dark shape of something swimming under her. The sky was still pink and plum and russet with dawn, keeping the ocean’s depths a mysterious secret.

Once again, there was that caress along her belly. She shivered, smiled over at Marc.

“Fish are ticklin”

“The price you pay for that micro-kini you’re wearing! You could go back to the boat and put on a ‘skin…?” He let that hang there a moment, trying to not let her see the “gods don’t let her want to go back and cover up” in his eyes.  She filled out that ‘kini…the woman was stacked. The little triangle of fabric did little to cover sumptuous tits. The equally small bottom triangle gave a tantalizing peek at plump lower lips. She was not a skinny minnie; he loved that she had the guts to wear a bikini with a softly rounded tummy…it showed that she didn’t give a fuck what society thought, that she was comfortable with who she was. Maybe it was that, that comfort with herself that intrigued him so.

What he wouldn’t give to be one of those fishes slicking down that body!

She shook her head no, then flicked her fin at him as she pushed ahead. He tried not to stare at the round full globes of her ass, the muscles in her strong legs pulling his attention up, around, and towards that dark triangle that beckoned him like…like no other had in a long while.

Every time he was around her he felt a bit awkward, a bit nervous, and a lot horny. It was unnerving that a student would make him feel like the junior geek here. He knew she was not trying to entice him, that she was a sexy woman who had never “put the moves on” any of her teachers. She got ahead by her smarts, her drive, and her love of her subject.

“Ooohhh,!” she giggled, turning her head to look back at him. And caught him staring right at her ass. Marc flushed. She stopped swimming, treading water.

“Like what you saw, Prof? Geeze.” She blushed. Her heart ticked up a notch. He saw her. It gave her a tickle between her legs, a soft, wet throb.  She’d never, ever made a move on a teacher, yet she saw Marc differently.

“Actually, I did.” They stared at each other, floating in the warm, sapphire sea. She tread  water, holding her place, as  they looked at one another. Each wondered if they should reach out, and touch.  She felt the tickle on her thigh, and wriggled. His eyes widened. She wondered if it was from the sight of her tits bobbling in the water. There was that tickle again. She splashed at the water, trying to startle the fish. Marc uttered a short “what the fuck?” as he caught the brunt.

“I’m sorry! Not you! These damn fish are …” abruptly her voice cut off, and she gave a short yelp. Something was coiled around her ankle. They were too high to be caught in Sargassum weed, so what the fuck was on her? She kicked her foot, and felt something on her other leg.

“Marc!” she yelped, kicking. He was turned away from her, and she yelped again. “MARC!”

He turned his head, glassy-eyed. “Something…” he grunted, a look of startled surprise on his face.

“Marc…” she moaned then, feeling a soft bite on her inner thigh, cutting off her plea.  She felt a probing at her bikini bottom.  She whimpered aloud as something…something slick and cool rubbed along her vulva, down along her lower lips. There were…suckers there, snagging on her flesh, already aroused from the flirting with Marc.  She felt a sting where the bite was, and then a feeling of floating, and an incredible feeling of arousal. Her clit jolted to attention, her nipples engorged, and she felt a wet hot slickness leak from her cunthole. Her hips made little undulations in the water as her body invited the invader in.

The fat thing that filled her was a cock. A very different kind of cock. It was tapered, and she felt that tapered tip twisting and twining inside of her. Impossibly, it had found her ‘spot’, and rubbed it relentlessly. Her orgasm made her arch back in the water, and she sank up to her chin as she came harder than ever before. She kicked feebly with her legs, but found herself floating when she stopped.  More probing along her slit became pressure against her asshole. She shook her head, her hair floating like a golden halo in the water behind her.

“No no no noooooo,” she muttered, trying to push it away. She felt things twining around her wrists, her arms, pulling her back. Legs…tentacle legs, wrapped around her torso, her throat. Tips of legs rose up in the air then rubbed against her tits. She bucked, but was held too tightly. There was a sudden surging thrust into her ass and pussy, and she screamed. Her asshole throbbed, even as her cunt bucked into another orgasm. The wriggling invader in her ass pressed upward, twirling up into her gut. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, torn between the pleasure in her pussy, and the pain in her asshole. She was stretched, deeply, fully with the thickness inside of her. Her ass throbbed, setting off another shockwave of sensation, another ripple of her belly as she climaxed. As she gasped for breath, one questing tentacle found her nose, pressing up and inside.

“NOOO,” she moaned, tossing her head in a futile attempt to dislodge it. A second slender tip found her other nostril, and slid inside. She felt the tickle at the back of her throat. She coughed, gagging as one tendril pressed deeper, probing. Her head was tugged backwards by the feelers in her nose, and she arched in the water, out of control. The cock working in her belly pressed hard against her cervix and she moaned. Pain and pleasure commingled, and she felt a hot wet thickness building inside of her. It, whatever it was, was coming inside of her. She felt the dripping of fluid down the back of her throat, and the tightening around her tits as tentacles thrashed in the air before wrapping her more tightly in their grasp.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Marc, also floating, one thick tentacled arm filling his mouth.

“Marc,” she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. The bobbling waves should have spread them away from each other, yet they hung here in the waters not far from their boat.

The thing in her ass began to thrust. A second cock? How many of these creatures were on her? There was a slither against her hip. It pulled up out of the sea, and she stared in horror,  looking into the eyes of the slimy creature as it slid up her belly. This one too, had a protuberant cock. It’s tentacles grasped her tits, suctioning onto her nipples and sticking against her as deeply as possible. She moaned. She saw its maw, open wide, tasting and exploring her belly, working towards her captive tits.  It found the swollen orb of her, settled around her protuberant flesh. There was a shocking and intense sucking at her nipple, then a bite. Heat, lust, rampant need exploded in her.

Primed, she spasmed. The water around her clouded with her cum, and theirs. She was writhing now, desperate for sex. The fucking in her pussy and ass redoubled, perhaps one cock, perhaps more, fighting to press into her belly and deposit its milky spoor. She was bloated, full, as the cock before her began to thrash towards her mouth.

***********

Marc could not believe what he saw as Jules bobbled in the water, could not believe what he felt as he too was entrapped by a group of groping tentacles.  What the fuck? he wondered, attempting to push them away. His hands were quickly wrapped together in one strong coil; despite the cool slippery mass, they were incredibly tough. He felt the first tickle along his thigh, then his calf. The bite was less annoying than an mosquitoes, but in seconds his semi-soft cock went fully rigid. Painfully rigid. Tenting out the front of his swimshorts, he felt the first flicker of panic as a tentacle…was it only one?… slid up inside the left leg of his shorts.

The grip around his balls was painfully tight. He moaned, and a tentacle slipped between his lips and down his throat. He could breathe, barely, and panic sent his heart racing. He felt the lapping of water around his cock.

Where the hell had his pants gone?

He forgot about them as something cool, tight, viscous settled around his shaft.  It felt like fingers massaging along his length. He was hard, harder than he’d ever been, and there was a feeling of sucking along the crown, the hole, the ridge of his head. His hips jolted in the water, fucking. He would have moaned but for the tentacle silencing him.

He swallowed, a thick ooze was leaking from the tentacle and dripping down his throat. He tried to scream as another probed his asshole, then pressed insistently upwards. His rectum was stretched, painfully. His eyes closed as his shitpipe was violated, the deep questing probe thrusting, fucking his ass, even as his own cock was getting worked over. The clenching around his balls was making them feel like his nutsac was going to explode; his cock was painfully rigid, and sucked so hard it, too, was painful.

Yet even as he wondered if a guy could die from having his nuts crushed by a squid, they were released. He felt the upsurge of his own orgasm ricochet up his cock, and explode from inside his fuck-tube, into places unknown.  The world went black for a minute, but he roused as  another moved onto him, biting him to erection, and fucking him senseless once more.

******************************

“I think she’s coming around.”

There was general laughter at that remark.

“Cumming being the operative word, ey mate?”

Jules opened her eyes. She was alive? She felt heavy, thick-bodied. She was naked, but couldn’t make herself care. Several guys were standing around her; one crouched down and held out his hand.

“How many fingers, darlin’?”

“Two.” her voice croaked. “Marc?”

“Oh, your mate? He’s fine now, below decks having some food. C;mon up with you now, darlin’, let’s get you into something more proper then, aye? Then we’ll give you a snack and set you two back to rest, ay?”

She swallowed, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. There was a coursing of wetness as she rose, leaking from between her legs. One of the men held a bowl there, catching the liquid.

“They liked you, girl,” growled one, observing the amount of liquid in the bowl. It had a faint golden color to it.

She felt the blush rise from her toes. She would have moved forward, but a hand pressed hard against her belly, as if to drain her.

“Just a little more, darlin’.”

A daring pair of lips lapped up her inner thigh.

“Andrew!” admonished their leader, as he held her there. “It’s a powerful aphrodisiac, darlin’. The Japanese pay top dollar for any squid semen we can collect.”

He led her down to the galley, where a pale-faced Marc sat, eating. A sailor sat on each side of him.

“Now that you’re both here, I’ll explain what happened to you, and tell you where we go from here.”

“The squid that attacked you, the Aussie Dumping Squid it’s called, are notorious sex-fiends.  They mate for hours at a time, and have lately begun to prey on humans who venture into the water at dawn, or dusk. Their mating season is just for a few more weeks, and it appears that they very much enjoyed you two. We’ve tried collecting the cum by grabbing the squid, but it won’t release. And the two others we found in your situation were barely touched. It appears they like you.”

Marc and Jules looked horrified. She’d been fucked by squids? Plural?

“So we’ll feed you up to keep your calories and fluids up, and tonight at dusk we’ll drop you both in again. Let them fuck you silly, reel you in, drain your holes, and let you sleep.”

“It’s only a few more weeks, mates. You’ll have the fucking time of your lives, and vacation memories of Australia to last a lifetime!”

Pulling out My Hair…

…one strand at a time.

My life is so frikking CRAZY. Or maybe it’s just my kids MAKING me crazy.

*sigh*

(that should be a calming yoga breath. In. Out. In. Out. But right now? It more closely resembles  hyperventilation. Just sayin’….)

Today, (Tuesday as I write this and 11 pm…hey, didn’t I say I wasn’t gonna do this anymore???) I had two things on my agenda. Okay, three. Four tops.

1. finish putting together the renovated room (hanging pictures, primarily)

check. That’s done.

2. write.

um. no.

3. ironing

it was a COLD day here in New England..it’s 55 just now, and my fans are off and next week is the 4th of July and last week it was almost 100 in my room (and outside) CRAZY!!!

but no, the ironing didn’t happen, either.

4. laundry.

nope. pleasant surprise here…with number 2 son away at camp this week, the laundry hasn’t needed to be done every damned day (He is such a Beau Brummell!)

What did happen was a LOT…and I mean a LOT of squabbling with the two youngers. The house is back together, basically…but things are in different places, the room looks totally different from before and I’m getting ready to jump into the next room…

There was poking.

Then punching.

Then screaming.

Then tantrums.

And that was just me.

heh. Just kidding.

Seriously, they were off the frikking wall today. Some days are like that…but when they happen, I really can’t do much of anything but supervise them closely.

Tomorrow is going to be a busy day, with a trek into Beantown in the late afternoon (oh joy) (NOT).  And errands, and and and…

boring vanilla shit.

If this isn’t the saddest excuse for a sex blog post, I don’t know what is.

hmmm…sexy stuff?

I had a delightful conversation with Master Monday night, and we played a guessing game, and I wheedled an extra guess out of him…and won an Orgasm!

Of course He had to put his own sadistic stamp on it, with my clamps (which haven’t seen much action of late) and the chain in my mouth, and the vibe on high on my clit and all that good stuff…

All lead to a ginormous orgasm…

And I slept so wonderfully hard…it was wonderful.

And now, if I don’t get my ass in bed, I’m going to screw up my Tuesday orgasm…and that would suck giant turkey vulture balls.

(isn’t that a pretty picture? ewww. )

 

Okay, that’s gross. How about this picture instead?

Yeah…now *that’s* a sex blog post!

“So the boys’ll be over in a bit.”

The sounds of skin slapping, moans and the sharp tang of sex in the air fill the room.

“I…” she gasps, unable to speak from the incredible pleasure. He holds the vibe against her clit, making her squirm.

Each squirm moves his cock in her pussy, pressing and touching sensitive areas.

“Yes…” He hisses as she squirms and his cock is sucked deep, as her inner muscles clench around him like a  hot velvet fist. He feels the vibrations inside of her as he presses the tool hard against her swollen, sensitive flesh.

He’d worked that flesh hard with his mouth not long ago, sucking and biting it to rouse it, to prepare her for the torment to come.

“Pleasure. Pleasure and pain, slut.”

She barely heard his words, as her clit seemed like it would explode from his torment.

“Please….” the word devolved to a guttural whimpering moan.

The orgasm swept through her, intense, wild, like a storm unleashed within her body. She felt the spray of her juice squirting around his cock, felt every inch he pressed into her body. Felt his own quivering response and his seeds filling her.

The vibe stayed, remarkably, on her clit. Her throbbing, aching clit. Hurt so much. Felt so good.

She squirmed.

She moaned.

She writhed.

She exploded again, even as he withdrew from her body. He hung over her,  panting from his own release, and watched her body shiver and shake as he kept the vibe on her throbbing cunt.

“Take it,” He growled at her.

“omhngsssirrrr” her words were undecipherable as her head twisted. Knees tied open and up, bent and open and exposed, her pussy ran with wetness.  He watched her inner leg muscles quiver and shake as she convulsed again under his assault.

Switching hands, he pressed the vibe against her clit, and slid four fingers into her, finger- fucking her hard. She shook through another orgasm, all but spent.

Finally he flicked it off. She was covered in snot, spit, pussy juice, and his jism.

The doorbell rang.

“That’ll be the boys. Don’t worry, slut, I’ll tell them your poor battered pussy is off limits…for a while.” His finger poked suggestively at her exposed asshole.

“But there’s still room for fun…”