3
She started getting angry, trying to work herself up to the point of rage so she didn’t feel any pleasure at all.
“You can’t even get…ughk fuuuck…a woman on your ooooowwwnnn.”
She struggled to get the last word out. She’d never been so turned on.
He didn’t respond or take offense. He just kept claiming the ass he knew was his.
All of her words were falling on deaf ears, and if anything, he was hammering into her once-tight asshole with no consideration.
No boyfriend could make her feel like this.
No Tinder date would ruin her like this.
She needed it. “Fuck, you need it,” he laughed.
He withdrew from her, only to spit into the wide, gaping, ruined hole.
“Barely even gaping,” she muttered. She was trying to demean him, but he responded by forcing four fingers into her ass, twisting and tugging before he forced his thumb against the raw ring.
She looked into his eyes in the mirror, shaking her head as she begged and pleaded.
Of course, her hard drive had plenty of fisting videos; hell, she’d cum to them plenty of times.
But she couldn’t let this happen, couldn’t let a stranger fulfill her fantasy.
“Please, no…” she tried to beg, but he just let out that echoing, sinister laugh, twisted his fingers, and pushed his thumb forward.
The grunts that came from her were vulgar.
Visceral. Raw. She let out a series of grunts and groans before “Fuuuuck, destroy my ass, Daddy” came out.
The gush of fluids that soaked her thighs as his fist planted squarely between her ass cheeks was audible.
The sound of her juices hitting the floor sealed her fate.
She’d gone from an unwilling victim to a helpless anal whore.
He used her like a fucking puppet, his hand halfway up her ass.
Back and forth, deep and shallow, this man worked his fist in her ass as a lover might.
He rolled his wrist so her ring stretched wider, without ever withdrawing his hand.
This was heaven. This was bliss. To be used like this, a man’s personal glove, was the most intense feeling she had ever felt.
Was she cumming again? Juices ran down her thighs, and he whispered, “What a good slut.”
The words, combined with the sensation of her thighs squeezing together and the amount of juices pouring from her like a geyser, caused her to piss herself.
The cute barista who smiled at her became a memory.
Her job and life as she knew it were becoming irrelevant.
This was her life now. Her stomach bulged as his finger curled up into her anal canal so deeply it made her hips spread.
The feeling of being filled like this was overwhelming.
He stimulated her G-spot by curling his fingers inside her once-tight ass, repeating the motion over and over until he slowly withdrew them.
She could feel her ass gaping as his fingers left, and he reached for a small table beside them.
He pulled out what could only be described as a nightstick of a vibrator.
Before she could truly react, she was throbbing again as she felt his fat cockhead force back up into her ass.
One last chance. She could demean him. Belittle him.
Make him feel less than, hoping he’d let her go.
It was a slight chance, but it was all she had.
“Only a pathetic man like you could… FUUUUUUUUCK.”
She looked down at the toy plunged into her cunt.
The fat cock in her ass and the toy buried in her tight pink pussy were too much.
Feeling fuller than she ever thought possible, she came again.
The orgasm rocked through her. He hammered a fat vibrating toy in her pussy and buried his cock deeper with every thrust that rippled her ass cheeks.
She was panting like a bitch in heat as she bucked her hips back and forth to feel each hole being stretched and filled.
Each time the two thick shafts ground against each other inside her, she could no longer deny it.
She was a slut; she wanted to be more than full.
She wanted to be ruined by this man, and she didn’t care about the consequences.
“Please, someone help me. I’m losing this fight,” she thought.
“This can’t be who I am now. I’m not just some…toy to be broken.”
His cock slammed deep, and as he withdrew from her gaping ass, he slammed the toy until it bottomed out against her cervix.
As the toy withdrew, she felt his cock push deep into her ass again.
She was being used in the ways she’d always dreamed, and it was from a stranger.
Back and forth. Her insides were being stretched as he pounded against her.
He drove the toy deep and his cock deeper so she could feel her pussy and guts being stirred up at the same time.
He asked a question that turned her blood cold.
“Are you on the pill?” His cock obliterated her asshole without mercy, and he dug that dildo so deep it hammered against her cervix.
Her fertile, young womb. She shook her head again and again as she pleaded.
“No, please, I’m on prenatal to help balance my hormones. You can’t.”
Her fear rose as she realized why he was asking.
She took prenatal vitamins and stayed off the pill; her family had a history of cysts, so she took precautions.
Between those precautions and staying active and healthy, she was a perfect little brood sow.
He hammered her ass so hard she saw stars.
She nearly fainted as the toy slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.
Every second felt like an eternity as he withdrew from her ruined ass; she could feel it gaping.
His pre-cum slid from her open ring, his tip sliding against her plump pussy lips until something unimaginable happened.
He slid up into her fertile young pussy.
The feeling of his balls emptying inside her juicy little cunt made her thighs squeeze together tightly as she came once again.
There were no words; the feeling of climaxing so hard your toes curl was indescribable at the best of times.
But here she was, bound in a basement. The man who just butt-fucked her into submission had plunged his dirty cock into her pretty young pussy.
She’d almost certainly been bred. He kept pumping upward into her; she babbled something that could have been “But I’ll get pregnant.”
As she gazed forward, she felt his seed flood her womb.
His thick seed flooded her cervix as he groaned and uttered, “Not a bad fuck by any means.”
Broken, her head hung limply as he finished emptying his balls inside her fertile young womb.
She wanted to shake her head and say no; she wanted to voice how dirty she felt after he went from her ass to her cute little cunt.
There were many things she wanted to do, but she couldn’t deny the euphoria she also felt.
She was disgusted with herself for feeling that way, but never in her life had she cum like this.
She’d watched hardcore anal porn and sluts being bred, always wanting it, never knowing who to ask, and now not knowing how to feel that it was taken.
The shackles released, and the pain of the metal digging into her wrists became very real.
So did the pain of lurching to her knees, a gasp escaping her full lips as she fell to the concrete.
He was speaking, saying something about how her torment had just begun.
She wasn’t listening; a fire was stirring inside her, and a voice was screaming to run.
To kick. To thrash and escape. Because even the woods at midnight in a thunderstorm were better than this.
He said something about how his hands would fit nicely in either hole; her body reacted, and she kicked him hard in the balls.
She kicked again, and he fell over clutching himself.
Cursing, she rose to her feet and kicked him in the stomach for good measure and ran up the stairs.
Bounding them two at a time, she didn’t even dare to breathe with the front door now in sight.
She had cum dried across her face and tits.
Her ass throbbed painfully from being fucked damn near inside out, and she could feel her pussy leaking his seed.
This had been a night she would have to reconcile; she couldn’t just deny the fact that she had cum so much she might never feel this satisfied again.
That thought, for a moment, almost made her turn around and kneel like a good girl.
But she couldn’t; she had to get a Plan B.
She needed a shower and to put all of this behind her.
Too much time with this man, and she would do whatever he asked; already her ass missed how wide his cock stretched her.
Already she wanted to be gaped and ruined again, but not like this.
She didn’t want this. She kept telling herself that even as her pussy throbbed at how empty it felt.
Rushing towards the door, she thought about looking into the BDSM community.
She opened it and collided with someone.
Detective MacArthur sat just outside in his cruiser.
The rain was a cacophony of noise against the cruiser’s windshield.
His dull gray eyes watched the wipers go back and forth, back and forth, as he thumbed the locket in his hand.
Open. Closed. Inside, there was a picture of his wife and him.
He tried to think. Where could this missing woman be?
His eyes traced the small cabin where he had spoken to the man earlier; dammit, he couldn’t focus.
In his mind, all he could see was his wife, the woman he’d said vows to years before, getting spit-roasted by two men.
Even as he heard the APB go out about the missing young woman, his thoughts remained on his wife cheating, her holes stuffed full of black and white cock.
“Hey Mac, did you follow up on that sketchy guy?”
He heard his radio chime off, but his mind was on the way the cum had been clinging to his wife’s tits.
Shaking his head, he got out of the cruiser.
He decided he’d check in on the weird hunter guy one more time before he called it a night.
Walking slowly up the stairs, he tried to think of a reason to give the man for checking back in.
Just when he was thinking of a good excuse, the door burst open and the young woman he was looking for collided with him.
Covered in what looked like cum, she was naked aside from Converse All-Star sneakers.
She heaved and sobbed. Clearly, she was upset.
Instantly he drew his weapon on the man steadily moving towards her.
She was a skinny little thing. He couldn’t help but notice how bright pink her nipples were, pierced too.
Like his slut wife. He tensed his finger and shouted, “Hands on your head, get on the ground.”
He felt the young woman gripping him exhale deeply. It was as if she knew she was safe; her ordeal was finally over.
The man put his hands up behind his head, but as he did so, he shouted back.
“Look, officer, this is a BDSM roleplay she claims got out of hand. Look at her, pierced, tattooed, covered in cum. We met on a roleplay website about ‘non-consent,’ and now she’s trying to turn things around on me. Please,
I wouldn’t have invited her here if I knew she was going to involve the police.”
He said it so calmly, as if it were the truth.
Detective MacArthur looked at the young woman.
He saw no marks on her. She had her wrists tucked around his middle as she gripped him in fear.
He should have seen the shaking, the tremors that ripped through her.
Or the fear in her eyes. Or the hunger in the man’s.
But sadly, on this night, the detective was distracted.
Focused on his own personal anguish and jealousy, he just saw another woman who was trying to ruin a good man.
He took a deep breath and looked at the man.
The storm was absolutely raging as he shut the door behind them, and he could feel the woman’s fear and anxiety, but he had to sort this out.
She looked terrified, but the lack of marks confused him.
There was also the fact that she had obviously been into it.
Her cheeks were flushed, and most of the stench of sex was clearly feminine.
There was some light reddening around the wrists that he could see.
She watched him fearfully, pleading as he looked her over.
Her nipples were pierced and covered in the man’s ejaculate; it dripped from her chin down to her breasts.
He glanced down quickly and saw her petals were soaked; hell, her thighs were soaked.
The detective glanced at the hallway mirror and saw something that threw him off.
Her ass, bubbly and plump, was gaping. Hell, both of her holes had been stretched.
He noticed how bare her soft pink petals were.
“Ma’am, I know you are upset, but I must ask you, why are you perfectly shaved if you had no intention of meeting up with someone for anonymous sex?” Detective MacArthur asked as he looked her over with rising suspicion.
“Ar…are you f-fucking serious right now? Isn’t my word, the torn clothes…why would I be crying if I wanted this?” She sobbed and looked at the detective in disbelief. She took a deep breath and uttered shakily, “I did have a date tonight if you must know, just not with this asshole.”
“Liar,” her captor said almost calmly. “We literally met at the bar last night up the road and set up a whole ‘BDSM’ kidnap scenario. ‘I enjoy feeling helpless’ is exactly what you said to me after you sucked me off in the parking lot, wasn’t it?”
he said accusingly. “Officer, I have several people at the bar who can corroborate my story if need be,” he said.
His eyes appeared truthful, hard to read even if you knew the truth.
The young woman suddenly became frantic; she reached forward in an effort to grab MacArthur’s pistol as she yelled, “Don’t listen to him, just shoot him! I can feel him dripping from me!”
She tried to grip his arms to free the pistol. The detective instinctively sent her to her back with a simple leg sweep.
She hit her backside hard but instantly was on her knees, gripping the hem of the officer’s pleated pants, pleading with him, fresh tears in her eyes.