Sunday, March 4, 2012


A quick note from the author:

Hi. Most of my stories involve dominant men abusing submissive women. This one is the opposite – the aggressor is female, the victim male. I wrote this to challenge myself to write something outside of my comfort zone, and I’m telling you this for two reasons:

  1. I know a lot of my readers expect a certain type of story for me, and I’d hate to disappoint. If you don’t think you’d enjoy a story where a woman rapes a man, please, move on. I promise I’ll be back to writing horrible things happening to innocent girls that make me feel guilty soon enough.
  2. As mentioned, this is a bit foreign to me, and I’m curious as to how it’s received. I always enjoy feedback, but with this story I want feedback even more. Please do not hold back, I promise I can handle it.

Warning: The following story describes events that are illegal, immoral, and just generally a very, very bad idea. Nothing in this story should be emulated. Nothing in it is a good idea. Nothing in it actually happened, either -- it's a work of pure fiction. If you are underage, easily offended by things that probably should offend you, or unable to differentiate between fantasy and reality, you should probably piss off right now.

I’ve always believed that one of the best ways to categorize people is by how they handle conflict. Even when everything is peaceful it can help a lot to know how a person will react if that peace is shattered. Sure, people may occasionally stray outside of their category, but it’s rarely for long.

On the bottom, you have the pleasers. These people will go out of their way to avoid conflict, even if it involves personal hardship. They’re quick to apologize, even when they’re in the right, and they rarely stand up for themselves. I feel bad for them, but to be honest, I’ve exploited people like this more than I care to admit. Sometimes it’s difficult not to.

In the middle, you have the reactors, which is probably most of the population. Like the pleasers, they don’t care for conflict, and they’ll avoid it when possible. When forced to deal with it, though, they tend to stand up for themselves. I think I’m usually in this group, but at times I’ve strayed in either direction.

On top, you have predators. These people have no problem with conflict. When it comes up, they’ll deal with it. While pleasers might back down even when they’re right, predators will fight on even when they’re wrong. I’d put Kira in this group, but frankly, she doesn’t really belong there.

Kira is something entirely different. She doesn’t merely accept conflict and deal with it when necessary, she seeks it out; creating it if need be. A predator might steal from you because they want your stuff, but Kira would steal from you just to fuck you over.

I’d like to say that behind Kira’s tough exterior was a kind and caring person, that her aggressive nature was just a mask she wore to hide her gentle personality. I doubt that’s true, though. If it is, she hid it well. I had worked with her for three years, during that entire time she never once revealed herself to be anything other than a cold-blooded bitch.

Despite her personality, we managed a professional relationship. That’s not to say that I never got a firsthand taste of her venom, of course – everyone in the office did at some point. Still, I knew what she was, and she knew there was easier prey out there. I say that we managed, but a more accurate term might be I stayed out of her way.

That strategy stopped working about two weeks ago, when our boss assigned us to work together on the same project. It sucked, hard. Basically, I did all the work and she took all the credit. Every now and then she’d pick a fight with me, I think more out of boredom than anything else.

By the time five o’clock rolled around on Friday, I was exhausted. Doing the work of two people was beginning to catch up to me, and I just wanted to go home and fall into a weekend-long coma. I grabbed my coat and was headed towards the door when she jumped in my path.

We’re getting drunk tonight, she announced.

That’s nice, I answered coldly. I didn’t give a rat’s ass what she was doing tonight, or with whom. I just wanted her to get out of my way so I could go home already.

I don’t think you understand, she explained. When I say we, I mean you and I. As in, you’re coming with me, and we’re going to get drunk. We’ve earned it, with all the hard work we’ve been doing.

I considered telling her to go fuck herself, that we hadn’t been doing hard work at all, that if anyone had earned anything it certainly wasn’t her. It seemed like a bad idea, though, given whom I was dealing with. There was basically no chance in hell that I could convince her that she was wrong; all I’d be able to do would be to start a fight.

Look, Kira, I tried to explain. I’m very tired, and I just want to go home. Maybe some other time?

And maybe you can remember who you’re talking to, she hissed. I don’t know if you’ve misheard me, don’t know if you think the pitch of my voice raised at the end of some sentence to indicate I was asking a question, but let me be clear: I’m not asking.

I had no idea where she was going with this, and that made me nervous. With Kira, you could be reasonably certain that she had some scheme in mind. If you couldn’t figure out what that scheme was, it was probably because you were the victim.

Fine, but just one drink, I offered, hoping she’d accept a compromise.

Whatever, be a little bitch she laughed. We’ll take my car.

I wished that my car wasn’t in the shop. I really didn’t like the idea of being dependent on her for a ride to the bus stop, but I couldn’t think of a sound argument against it. I figured if it really came down to it, I could always call a cab.

I followed her to her car and jumped in the passenger seat. Aside from a small stack of papers in the back seat, she kept it clean. I half-expected to see a couple dozen skulls of small children, but I guess she had removed them first.

The ride was uneventful and awkward. I had nothing to say to her, and it seemed to be mutual. I thought about turning on the radio, but really didn’t want to find out what type of music she listened to.

After several minutes of awkward silence, she parked on a street in front of a large apartment building. I began to worry, realizing that I had no clue where we were, but I wasn’t about to show her any weakness. Getting out of the car, I looked around, hoping to see a familiar landmark. A hospital was to the left of the apartment building, some houses to the right, but nothing that I recognized.

So, where’s the bar? I asked.

Fuck bars, she replied, walking towards the apartment building. I didn’t say anything about a bar, anyway. I said we were getting drinks.

Oh, so I’ll just follow you into a strange building, I commented sarcastically. I can’t imagine why I might not want to do that.

It’s not a strange building, she spat back. It’s where I live. And if you don’t want to come in, if you’re too afraid of the mean, scary building, then fine – don’t come in. But if you’re going to bitch out like this, I hope you aren’t expecting me to drive your cowardly ass home.

Threatening to leave me stranded didn’t bother me. It was juvenile and petty, but it wasn’t unexpected, and I could have just called a cab. Calling me a coward, on the other hand, struck a nerve. With my male ego bruised, I felt the overwhelming desire to choke her. I certainly couldn’t back down.

Fuck you, I muttered, following her into the building. Let’s get this over with.

Once in the building, she led me into an elevator and pressed the button for the third floor. The elevator felt like it had been designed decades ago; it was very small and very slow. The ride up was almost painful – I wanted to tell her that this proved I wasn’t a coward, but knew that all that would do is give her the satisfaction of knowing that she had gotten under my skin. Being forced to stand so close to her wasn’t making it any easier.

Leaving the elevator, I followed her down the hall and though a door with a brass 3F on it. Her apartment was not what I expected. It was modestly sized, tastefully decorated, and surprisingly lacking in pentagrams inked in human blood on the floor.

Sit, she instructed, motioning to a black leather couch in her living room. I hated how she gave me orders and considered telling her to fuck off, but she had already left the room. Taking a seat on the couch I told myself that I was sitting because I wanted to, not because she told me to.

Kira came back with a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. Putting the glasses on the coffee table, she poured and slid one towards me. I eyed it contemptuously. I’ve never liked whiskey.

I’m sorry, would you prefer I get you some apple juice, possibly in a sippy cup? she mocked, apparently picking up on my hesitation.

Seriously, fuck you, I muttered. My pride on the line I picked up the glass and downed the shot. The liquor burnt my throat, and I felt my eyes tearing up, but I refused to show her any weakness. I was still forcing back the tears when I passed out.

As consciousness returned, I felt like my head was about to implode. Remembering that I was in Genghis Cunt’s apartment, I began to panic, but stopped myself. It’s stupid, but even after being drugged by a sociopath, I still was most concerned about my pride.

Ignoring the splitting headache, I climbed up onto my hands and knees. I would have liked to have stood up, but I was pretty sure if I tried that I’d just fall on my ass. Vision returning, I could make out the silhouette of her legs in front of me.

Was wondering how long you’d be out for, she pondered. You really can’t handle your alcohol. I mean sure, I spiked your drink, but you did still pass out after just one. Not very impressive, you know.

I am going to fucking murder you, I growled.

I’m shaking in my boots, she taunted, kicking my arms out from under me and sending me crashing back down into the floor. Moving along, I’m concerned about our relationship. I know you’ve been telling Dave that you’re doing all the work, and that bothers me. I could be angry, but really, I’m just hurt. I need you to see me as a valuable teammate, and I just don’t think you do.

Go fuck yourself, you sadistic whore, I retorted, slowly climbing back up.

Sharp pain shot through my rib cage as she kicked me in my side. At least, it looked like she kicked me. I’m not sure how it would be possible, but it felt more like she drove a freight train into me. Falling down on my side I curled up in a ball, the blinding pain taking priority over the desire to preserve my pride.

See, this is the problem she continued, never raising her voice. I want our working relationship to be a partnership of equals, but you just won’t allow it. You insist that one of us has to be above the other, that we can’t just cooperate on the same level. Most strangely, you seem to think that in that situation you would somehow be above me. Let’s correct that real fast. Tell me, are you above me or beneath me?

She inched her boot under my chin, positioning it so that the sole was flat against my throat. Applying pressure, she forced me to roll onto my back if I wanted to breathe. Once on my back, she hovered the foot over my throat in a clear threat.

Beneath you, I snarled. I didn’t believe it for a second, but I didn’t want my larynx stomped.

You got the words right, but I’m not buying it, she sighed. It’s probably my fault for being too lax on you, though I have no qualms about beating the shit out of you over something that’s my fault. Here’s how this goes. You apparently can’t see me as an equal. You can’t accept that I’m simply above you. So, we’re going to have to really define our roles. In simple terms that even you can understand, I am now your owner, and you are now my pet.

Your pet?! I demanded. Are you fucking insane?!

Nichole sighed as she straddled my chest. I groaned in pain as she lowered her weight onto my bruised ribs. Her expression was one of disappointment as she wrapped her hands around my throat and squeezed, cutting off my air.

It’s okay if you don’t like that word, she explained, still choking me. You don’t need to be my ‘pet’ if you don’t want. You can be my property instead, or my bitch, or my worthless fuck toy. Really, the word isn’t important; it’s what the word means. It means that I own you in your entirety – your broken body, your feeble mind, everything belongs to me. It further means that I may use you however I want, whenever I want, and you don’t get to object. Is that understood?

Releasing her grip, I gasped for air. Yes, I groaned, hating myself for it.

Wonderful, I’m glad you see it my way. Now, since your title was apparently a problem for you, we need to decide what you are. I’ll play the role of kind and generous owner and let you pick all by yourself. What are you?

I guess pet is okay, I whimpered.

With another sigh, Kira sat up and brought her fist down into my face. This was not a slap; it was a punch – and a solid one at that. I still don’t know if it was the drugs or if Kira just possessed some kind of demon strength, but it hurt like hell.

I didn’t ask if pet is okay, she scolded. And frankly, I wouldn’t. I decide what is okay, you accept that decision. That’s how this works. Forget that dynamic, and I’ll remind you. Now, once again: What are you?

I’m your pet, I admitted, immediately regretting it.

See, that wasn’t so hard, she chided. I think I’m going to name you ‘Puddles’. Now, you be a good boy and stay on the floor while I get your collar.

Her words were a cruel joke. If I could have ran away, I’d have been long gone. The truth was I could barely breathe, much less move from my position. When she returned with the collar I was exactly where she had left me, though it wasn’t by choice.

That’s a good widdle Puddles! she laughed, kneeling beside me. So let me show you your collar. As you can see, it’s meant to work with a padlock – we wouldn’t want you trying to remove it, of course. These two metal probes in the front are the electrodes, and this copper trace is the antenna.

As she slipped it around my neck and locked it, my mind processed the information. As she got up and walked back to the couch I realized in horror that I was now wearing a remote-controlled shock collar. I tried in vain to remove it, but the lock held it securely in place.

Let’s have a quick demonstration, she announced, taking a seat. Are you glad that you’re my pet, Puddles? Are you happy that you finally know your place?

I swear to god, I will make you suffer, I answered. I knew I’d regret it, but I couldn’t help myself. I was blinded by rage.

You’re so predictable, Puddles, she sighed, removing a small remote control from her pocket. She pushed a button and the collar emitted a high pitched beep, but nothing more. Having braced myself for pain, I was surprised and confused by the lack of it; until about three seconds later when the beep stopped and the shock began.

The pain was incredible, like liquid fire cutting through my neck and branching out into my entire body. Although I could barely move moments before, I was suddenly flopping on her floor like a fish. I tried to beg for mercy, but couldn’t seem to form words. After what felt like an eternity it ended, and I collapsed motionless, struggling to breathe.

Wow, she exclaimed, sounding genuinely surprised. That was on a low setting, too. Now I’m all curious, I want to see what kind of a show my Puddles can put on at a higher setting.

Please god no, I begged, my pride no longer in the picture. I’m glad I’m your pet, I’m happy you put me in my place, but please, for the love of god, please don’t shock me again.

Careful there, Puddles, she warned. You’re getting dangerously close to telling me what to do, and that is absolutely not wise. I know you’re in pain, but that’s no excuse for forgetting your place. Still, I’m not entirely sure you’d survive another shock, and I’m not bored with you just yet, so I’ll give you an alternative. You can entertain me by sucking my cunt. Do a good job, and maybe I won’t have to supplement my entertainment with your suffering.

Strangely, I was more surprised by the realization that she had a cunt than the fact that she was demanding it sucked. Don’t get me wrong, Kira is not an unattractive woman, and on an intellectual level I’m sure I realized that she had normal female parts, but I had never thought of her like that. I had always seen her as an evil sociopath, so much so that I forgot she was also a human woman.

Not wanting to experience what a stronger shock would feel like, I attempted to make my way to her. This turned out to be a bit of a challenge. Between the shock, the beating, and whatever drugs she had initially knocked me out with, I could barely move my limbs, let alone walk. Agonizingly, I rose to my hands and knees and began crawling towards her. My muscles did not want to cooperate; they screamed at me to just give up and lie down.

By the time I was half way there, Kira had already slid her panties off. She drummed her fingers on the arm of the couch, clearly losing patience with my slow pace. I wanted to tell her that I was moving as quick as I could, but couldn’t think of a way to phrase it that she wouldn’t interpret as a challenge.

I’m getting irritable here, Puddles, she warned. When I give you an order, I expect you to carry it out immediately. You’re wasting my time now, and I don’t appreciate it. Do I need to remind you how I can discipline a disobedient pet?

Kira, I’m trying as hard as I can, I tried to explain. I’m in a lot of pain, and it’s hard for me to move. Please just cut me some slack.

With an exasperated sigh, Kira rose to her feet and walked over to me. As I looked up, she kicked me in the ribs again, just as hard as the first time. Falling over, I rolled onto my back in agony.

There’s two important lessons you need to learn here, she explained. First, you don’t call me Kira, you call me owner. I shouldn’t even have to force you to do this, you should be grateful that I’m willing to take such a worthless piece of shit as a pet.

Straddling my chest, she pinned my arms to the floor over my head. I went passive, allowing her to do as she wished without struggle. Fighting back seemed pointless, I knew I was at her mercy at didn’t need to provoke her into showing me just how little mercy she had.

Second, she continued, you told me to cut you slack. You don’t tell me what to do. If you want something, you’ll crawl up to me, debase yourself, and beg for it like the little piggy that you are. We are not on equal footing, and I owe you precisely nothing. Remember that when you make your requests.

Leaning down, she positioned her face mere inches from mine and stared me in the eyes. Instinctively, I turned my head to the side to avoid eye contact. I didn’t like behaving in such a submissive way, but the truth is that I was terrified of what she could do to me.

Now, you might not realize it, she whispered in my ear, but I’m actually being extremely merciful. The next time you disappoint me like this, I won’t give you a helpful explanation – I’ll just push the button. For what it’s worth, I hope that you’ll survive it, but I’m okay with it if you don’t. It’s nothing personal, but you have yet to prove your worth as a pet to me. Do I make myself clear?

You do, owner, I whimpered. Thank you for showing me such mercy. I’m sorry I disappointed you, I promise I’ll try harder in the future.

The words felt so alien to me as I spoke them. I like to think that I was just acting out of terror, that I didn’t really mean what I said. Still, I felt way more sincere in my words than I’d like to admit.

That’s a good Puddles, she praised me condescendingly. Now, show me that you understand your place by sucking my cunt.

Sitting up, she moved her body forwards so that her crotch was directly above my head, with her knees pinning down my arms. I turned my face forward, but hesitated. Orally pleasuring her felt so like such a demeaning idea and I just couldn’t bring myself to accept such humiliation.

Kira didn’t give me much choice, though. Reaching down, she ran her fingers through my hair and clenched tightly. While pulling my head up by my hair, she brought her body down hard, slamming her crotch into my face.

I clenched my mouth shut in defiance, but it didn’t stop her. Ignoring my refusal to participate, she ground her crotch back and forth on my face, leaving a thin layer of her cum on my skin. Her motions rubbed her cum into my face, getting it into my mouth and forcing me to taste her. I still don’t understand my reaction. As much as I hated her, as much as I despised the situation, I found the abuse tremendously erotic.

Get your fucking tongue out, slut, she hissed. I expect you to participate, not just lie there while I fuck your face.

Obediently, I stuck my tongue out. She immediately positioned her hole directly above it and bore down, forcing my tongue into her. She was surprisingly wet, which was nice. It made me feel less guilty about how hard I was.

Kira leaned back and slid her hand down my pants. Shame and desire fought for dominance in my mind as her hand brushed over my cock. I hated that she now knew how aroused I was, but was hoping she’d do something about it. To my dismay she slid right past it and wrapped her fingers around my balls. She squeezed gently; not enough to hurt, but certainly enough to let me know that she could hurt me if she wanted to.

Aww, is my widdle Puddles feeling frisky? she mocked. Don’t get too disappointed, I may eventually get you off – but now is not the time. As your owner, my needs are obviously far more important than yours. If you have any hope of cumming tonight, it will be after me, not before.

She squeezed my balls and tugged a little, just enough to induce pain. It hurt, but it was nothing compared to the previous abuse she had put me through. Forcing myself to ignore it, I gyrated my tongue inside her. I hated how degrading it made me feel, but she seemed to approve and relaxed her grip.

The male body is such a funny thing, she mused. If I were to move my hand mere inches up, I’d be playing with my Puddles’s cock. I could make you feel so good if I did that, and yet I won’t – at least not yet. Instead, I’m focusing my attention on your balls. As good as I could make you feel if I were to play with your cock, I can hurt you so much worse playing with your balls if I decide you’re being a bad pet. It’s something to think about, you know: just how much I can hurt you without needing to exert much energy. I bet I could tear them right off without even breaking a sweat.

I was terrified by her threat. I knew her well enough to realize that she could very easily be speaking literally, and didn’t want to find out for sure. As terrified as I was, my dick didn’t seem to notice – I was as hard as ever. Between the fear and the arousal, I went to work hard, sucking her clit into my mouth and aggressively flicking it with my tongue.

For several minutes, I serviced Kira as best as I could. My tongue went numb, my jaw felt as though it was about to break, but I persisted. She assisted me in her own unique way; making psychopathic threats and physically abusing me each time she thought I wasn’t putting enough energy into my task.

By the time her orgasm approached, my mouth was so tired that I thought I’d never be able to move it again. She took her hand out of my pants and again grabbed my hair, though this time she forced my head down against the ground. Lifting herself off me by a few inches, she moved her free hand to her clit and masturbated furiously. As her orgasm peaked, warm fluid began to squirt out of her gaping cunt. Instinctively I tried to turn my head away, but she held me in place by my hair.

Keep your fucking mouth open, bitch! she snarled. And if you want to survive the night, don’t fucking spill a drop, and don’t swallow either.

I obeyed her. Though the muscles in my jaw screamed in agony, I forced my mouth open as wide as I could. Not all of her squirt found its way into my mouth – quite a bit wound up on my face, but enough hit the target. Unable to spit or swallow, I simply allowed it to collect in my mouth, gradually filling it.

After several seconds, her orgasm subsided. She scooted back, straddling my hips, and brought her face again close to mine. Still holding my head still, she looked me dead in the eyes. Between the soreness in every muscle in my body, the taste of her cunt still on me, and the mouthful of her cum, I felt completely defeated. Again I lowered my eyes in submission.

So Puddles, you currently have a mouthful of girl cum, she observed. I’m betting that you’d probably like to swallow it already, but I’d like you to demonstrate how much you enjoy it first. Gargle for me, bitch.

As I began to gargle, she laughed. The experience was humiliating; I had never felt so low in my life. I stopped after a few seconds, hoping that would be enough, and looked up at her. The icy stare she shot back made it perfectly clear that it was not enough. Beaten and broken, I continued gargling.

Eventually, she decided that I had humiliated myself enough and gave me permission to swallow. I didn’t want to – I wanted to spit it out but I didn’t dare disobey her. I struggled, but eventually swallowed a little. My body language must have revealed to her just how much I hated it.

You’re making me unhappy, Puddles, she warned. The look on your face says to me that you are not nearly as happy as you ought to be for this gift. I don’t know if you think you’re entitled to drink my cum whenever you want, that your status is so high that you need show no gratitude, but let me be clear: this is not the case. This is a rare honor that I’m permitting you; you should be over-fucking-joyed to receive it. If you’re too fucking stupid to realize that, I’ll just beat the shit out of you until you understand. I’m going to give you one more chance. Drink it all and show me how much you enjoy it, or expect to suffer my wrath.

With difficulty, I forced myself to smile and gulped deeply. Kira’s disapproving look made it clear that I had to do better, so I began moaning as best as I could while her squirt ran down my throat. After drinking it all I looked up at her, longing for her approval.

What should you be saying now, Puddles? she asked.

Thank you, owner, I offered meekly.

For? she demanded, clenching her fist into a ball.

Thank you for letting me drink your cum, owner. I know I don’t deserve it.

Poor Puddles, she sighed. You’re right, of course – you don’t deserve it. You’re a worthless piece of shit, completely without value. Hell, you don’t deserve the privilege of my company, much less the honor of drinking my cum. It’s okay, though.

The good news is, she continued, that you can get better. You’ll never be a real person, of course, certainly never close to my equal. Still, with hard work and dedication, you may someday be a worthy pet. Would you like that, Puddles?

I would, owner, I answered sheepishly. The strange thing was that it was true. Sure, I was still terrified of her, afraid of doing anything to provoke another beating, but at that moment the only thing that I wanted was to please her.

I’m glad you feel that way, she said, stroking my face in an uncharacteristically gentle manner. Though, if you didn’t, I’d just beat you until you did. Now, I see my Puddles’s cock is still hard, let’s get you out of those clothes and do something about that.

I tried to move my arms so that I could strip, but she still had them pinned down under her knees. She leaned over to the coffee table and picked up a pair of heavy-duty scissors. Bringing the scissors to my throat I felt a pang of terror.

Calm down, Puddles, she laughed. I’m not going to hurt you, at least not yet. You’ve been so obedient, and as long as you obey me without question I’ll have no reason to hurt you. You do trust me, don’t you?

I do, owner, I answered. I thought back, and it actually made sense. Each time that she had hurt me I had provoked her first. In a corrupt way this actually made me feel safe – all I had to do was obey.

That’s a good bitch, she said. Now, show me that trust and raise your chin.

I did as she ordered. Despite the fact that my throat was completely exposed and she was holding a pair of scissors to it, I felt paradoxically safe. I truly believed that she wouldn’t hurt me, as I had done as she instructed.

I felt the steel brush against my skin as she slid the scissors into the neck of my shirt and began to cut. At first I was unhappy-- I liked the shirt and didn’t want it destroyed. Remembering that this was my owner’s will, though, I corrected my attitude. I reasoned that if she wanted the shirt destroyed, I should want it destroyed as well. While I laid there passively, Kira slashed the shirt into a dozen pieces, destroying any chance that it could be worn again.

With the shirt destroyed, she climbed off me and went to work on my pants. Like my shirt, she cut them into medium sized chunks of fabric, guaranteeing that I would not be able to stitch them together. When she began cutting away my underwear, I raised my hips in the air to give her better access.

After shredding all my clothing, she returned the scissors to the table. I laid there on her floor, completely nude save the collar locked to my neck. My cock jutted up vulgarly, still fully erect. Kira returned to me and again straddled me, this time centering her hips above mine.

Thank you for removing my clothes, owner, I offered sincerely.

You’re learning quickly, slut, she replied. You may turn into an acceptable pet yet. Think of this as a reward.

Bringing her hips down, my cock slid into her. Having been hard for so long, I think it may have been the greatest feeling my body could experience. I tried to reach up to embrace her, but she swatted my hands down and slapped me across the face – not too hard, but hard enough to hurt.

Think of that as a warning, she explained. I am in control; your role here is to accept that. If you fail to do so, if you try to inject your feeble desires and actions into this, you’ll be punished.

I’m sorry, owner, I apologized. I promise it won’t happen again. My apology was sincere. Though I didn’t want to be punished I was more afraid of failing her.

Lying back, I relaxed my muscles and accepted her control of the situation. She rewarded me with a demonstration of her abilities, flexing her internal muscles. The feeling was incredible; it was as if she were masturbating me with her cunt.

Perhaps sensing my enjoyment and deciding that it was undeserved, she dismounted me without warning. I considered protesting, but stopped myself, remembering that it was not my place. Sliding forward, she positioned her crotch inches above my mouth. I didn’t wait for her to verbally express the order; despite my jaw still hurting I immediately dove in and devoured her cunt.

That’s right, Puddles, she laughed, lovingly stroking my hair with her hand. Suck my fucking cunt. Such a good little slut pet.

Involuntarily, I began humping the empty air above me. I knew it must have looked ridiculous, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted her back on my cock, but knew that would only happen if she chose to make it happen. I did my best to channel that desire and frustration into pleasing her orally.

Kira fucked my face for several more minutes, laughing at my obvious suffering and calling me degrading, vulgar names the entire time. Eventually, she pulled away from my face and moved back, mounting my cock again. The sensation of her sliding down my cock was unbelievable; it made the pain of her earlier interruption worth it.

I’m going to do that again, Puddles, she taunted. As soon as you feel too safe, I’m going to break off and fuck your mouth. I know it hurts you, but I don’t care – I think it’s funny. Do you have a problem with that, bitch?

No, owner, I assured her. It’s not my place to have a problem with anything you do. I’m just thankful that you’re giving me attention, I know I don’t deserve it.

I’m glad you understand, she replied. Of course, your understanding changes absolutely nothing. I’m still going to do it, and I’m still going to laugh at your pain when I do.

Kira rode me for a few more minutes before dismounting. True to her word, she immediately sat on my face. While she mocked my suffering and explained in elaborate details how worthless I was I serviced her with my tongue. It was painful and humiliating, but I didn’t mind. I was just happy to serve my owner.

She alternated like this three more times; riding my cock for a few minutes, then my face. Each switch was more painful than the last, I felt as though I would explode from the frustration alone. Occasionally she would comment on how well I was learning my place while she fucking my tongue; those compliments made the ordeal bearable.

After the third switch, she braced her hands on my wrists and bent over, grinding her cunt hard against me. As her tits brushed up against my chest through the fabric of her top, I fought the urge to use my arms to embrace her. Her face mere inches from mine; she looked me in the eye and cracked a smile.

Poor Puddles, she teased. Each time I get off your cock it looks like you’re going to cry. Would my Puddles like me to let him cum already?

My only desire is to obey you, owner, I answered.

Good answer, she replied, sounding genuinely pleased.

Leaning in, Kira kissed me deeply. As her tongue explored my mouth I found it impossible to restrain my orgasm any longer. I exploded inside her, flooding her with my cum. Without breaking her kiss, Kira used her cunt’s muscles to milk me, squeezing every drop out.

When my orgasm finally ended, she broke off her kiss. She dismounted my unceremoniously, a vulgar pop sounding as my wilting cock slipped out of her. Standing up, freshly ejaculated semen leaked from her, dripping down onto me. All the time the only thing that I could think of was how sad I was that she was getting up; how I wished I could spend more time pinned beneath her.

You’ve had a rough day, Puddles, and I intend to make tomorrow even rougher, she called out as she walked towards the next room. It’s time for you to get some sleep. Since you’ve been mostly good, I’ll let you sleep at the foot of my bed tonight. Come along, now.

Thank you, owner, I replied, struggling to my knees.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Norton Chapter 3: Acclimation

Warning: The following story describes events that are illegal, immoral, and just generally a very, very bad idea. Nothing in this story should be emulated. Nothing in it is a good idea. Nothing in it actually happened, either -- it's a work of pure fiction. If you are underage, easily offended by things that probably should offend you, or unable to differentiate between fantasy and reality, you should probably piss off right now.

This is chapter three of the story. If you haven't read chapter one, you should probably do that first. Or don't. I don't care, I'm not your mother.

Jenna followed Nicholas through the plain front door and into the house. Looking around, she was slightly comforted by what she saw. Though sparse on decoration, the room had nothing alarming in it. Two couches sat against the walls, each flanked by a small end table with a lamp, a small TV mounted on the wall opposite the larger couch; all furniture appropriate for the average American living room. As near as she could tell the lamp shades were made of fabric, not human flesh, and there was no altar to Satan. At least if he’s a psychopath, he’s not too open about it, she thought to herself.

I’ll give you the brief tour, Nicholas announced, sounding fairly hospitable. This is the living room. That room over there is the dining room, behind it is the kitchen. You’ll find cleaning supplies in the closet in the kitchen; I do expect you to keep this place clean.

Motioning for her to follow he climbed the stairs. Reaching the top, he gestured to a door on the left. That’s the bathroom, he announced. You’d probably like to take a shower; I’ll let you do that shortly.

Continuing down the hall they entered the master bedroom. Like the living room, it was sparsely decorated. A single king sized bed sat against the wall, dirty clothing littered the green-carpeted floor. On the nightstand to the left of the bed was an alarm clock and a single book that Jenna did not recognize.

The sleeping situation will be a bit odd for a few days, Nicholas explained. For the time being, you’ll be sleeping in my bed. Normally this will be a reward reserved for good behavior; conversely, you’ll sleep outside when you disappoint me. I’ll build you a crate to sleep in soon enough, until then I’ll show my benevolence by permitting you the honor of sleeping close to me – even when you haven’t earned it.

Thank you, Jenna answered humbly. She could barely believe the words came from her, it seemed so illogical. She couldn’t understand why she should be grateful to this man, who had already exploited her sexually and showed no signs of remorse or relent, just because he permitted her a sleeping arrangement that would facilitate her rape. Still, the words were sincere. It made no sense, but she was honestly grateful to him for the sliver of kindness.

You’re welcome, my pet, he answered warmly. Now, you’ve had a long day. Go take a shower. Get yourself clean, and then come to bed. Just so there’s no surprises, I will be raping your cunt when that happens.

Okay Jenna responded. As she walked back down the hall to the bathroom, her mind pondered the situation. She knew on a logical level that she should be alarmed by the threat of rape; yet it didn’t seem to bother her. In a sick way, she was actually looking forward to it; it seemed an appropriate finish to her day.

Once in the bathroom, Jenna shut the door behind her. It seemed a bit silly to her to do so; privacy made little sense when she was already nearly naked and had been observed in multiple sex acts, but it made her feel better. After turning the shower on, she kicked off her panties and waited for the water to reach an acceptable temperature.

Once the water heated up enough for comfort, Jenna jumped into the shower. Washing what she knew was most likely dried semen from her body, a part of her mind screamed at her that this was not okay, that sperm is disgusting, that women must never act like whores. To her surprise, though, this voice was overpowered by a stronger voice – proclaiming that right or wrong, she liked this. Sure, it was terrifying, and slutty, and probably more than a little bit dangerous; but Jenna could neither forget nor deny that the orgasm she experienced in his car was the strongest she had ever known.

It’s not like I have a choice, she reasoned. She wanted very much to believe that, and it was the truth, but she knew it wasn’t the whole truth. The whole truth was that even if she did have a choice, she’d choose this fate voluntarily – though humiliating, degrading, and against her nature, her clit had spoken; there was no turning back.

As Jenna continued to clean her body, she became increasingly aware that she wasn’t cleaning herself out of an internal desire, but rather to please Nicholas. The thought made her uncomfortable, she felt as though her own emotions were betraying her. She wanted to hate this, but it just didn’t seem possible.

Fully clean, Jenna stepped out of the shower. She eyed her panties lying on the floor, an embarrassing wet patch screaming out from the crotch. She thought about putting them back on, but opted not to, theorizing that Nicholas would be pleased if she returned fully naked and bathed. Immediately after deciding this, that small part of her mind screamed at her that it wrong, shameful, disgraceful; that debasing herself for this monster’s amusement was not an acceptable act. Adjusting her attitude, she reasoned that the panties were dirty, and it would be gross to put them back on. As she walked back towards the bedroom, knowing what lay in store for her, she chuckled to herself. Even internally, her panties are dirty justification seemed ridiculous.

Nicholas was casually reading his book when she walked through the doorway. Jenna froze, not sure exactly what to do – announcing that she was ready for her rape seemed silly, and she had nowhere to run to. After several seconds of awkward silence, Nicholas put the book down and gestured for her to approach. Cautiously, Jenna walked up to the bed.

As soon as Jenna was within reach, Nicholas quickly grabbed her wrist and roughly pulled her onto the bed. Jenna yelped in surprise, but offered no other resistance. In short order Nicholas had her pinned down on the bed face-first, his heavy frame on top of her. The feeling of warm breath on the back of her neck and his rough denim jeans scraping against the back of her naked legs made Jenna feel paradoxically safe and in tremendous danger at the same time.

You know what I’m about to do to you, don’t you? he asked, mockingly.

I do, Jenna cried. You’re going to rape me.

Rape is such a harsh word, though. I’m not a harsh man – hell, I’ve been exceedingly merciful and charitable to you. Ask me to fuck you. Show me your desire.

I can’t whimpered Jenna. She hated herself for saying it. She feared provoking his anger, but was more afraid that he might lose interest and refrain.

Don’t test me, girl, he growled. Don’t imagine yourself so strong that you can refuse my orders, and do not think that I am so blind that I cannot see what you want. Sure, I can beat you; but I can also roll off you and go to sleep, leaving you unused and unwanted, without value. Believe me when I tell you that I know how to punish you; I know how to make you suffer.

Please rape me! Jenna blurted out.

It doesn’t seem like you really want it, Nicholas sighed. A slut like you really ought to be able to beg better than that. Show me your desire.

Jenna groaned in despair, hating the idea of being forced to beg for her own rape and hating even more the fact that she knew she would. It was hard enough admitting she wanted to be raped, pleading for it was pure torture. Hoping to provoke him into changing the subject, she attempted to struggle for freedom.

The struggle proved pointless. Significantly larger and stronger than Jenna, Nicholas was able to restrain her without any noticeable difficulty. As the helpless girl squirmed beneath him, he laughed while effortlessly keeping her in place.

You’re not getting away that easily, he taunted. You asked to be raped, and I’m not about to let you just give up. Convince me that your cunt is worth the effort, or suffer the consequences. Show me how a whore begs.

Please fuck me, master! she cried out, blurting out the first thing that came to mind without thinking. Please, don’t make me suffer like this! I’m a filthy fucking whore and I need your cock! Please, I’ll do anything!

Master, is it? Nicholas laughed. I think I like that. In fact, I think that’s how I’ll expect you to address me from now on. And seeing as you asked me so nicely…

Jenna felt Nicholas’s hand reach down between her legs. Hearing the sound of his zipper, she braced herself. Her mind flooded with thoughts of terror and desire, simultaneously wanting to prevent and amplify what she knew was about to happen.

Without ceremony, Nicholas thrust into her. Jenna cried out in shock – though she knew what was going to happen, she didn’t expect it to be so sudden, so rough. Ignoring her cry, Nicholas wrapped his hands over her shoulders and aggressively plowed into her.

Jenna was surprised by how little pain there was. In the past, sex had been a bit uncomfortable, and she had never been with a man who was a rough as Nicholas. Pain was certainly present, of course, but ironically less so than ever before. More confusing to her, though, was the fact that seconds into the act she felt herself approaching orgasm – something she had never experienced with a man before.

I really hope I don’t have to remind you that you don’t cum without permission, Nicholas warned, sensing Jenna’s state.

I’m sorry! she cried, remembering his rule. Please let me cum! I don’t think I can stop myself!

That would be unfortunate Nicholas stated dryly, never relenting in his assault. If you disobey me you will be punished. Learn some fucking self-control, whore. It’s a bit difficult for me to believe that you’re being raped when you’re so eager to cum.

I can’t help it! I’m trying to hold off, but if you don’t slow down it’s going to happen. Please just let me cum, master? I’ll do anything you want, just let me cum!

Can’t help it? he asked. Let’s test that theory. I’d like you to admit that not only isn’t this rape, but I’m doing you a favor by fucking your lowly cunt. Maybe then I’ll consider giving my permission.

Please don’t make me do that! she begged.

I’m not. It’s certainly not an order, merely a suggestion. You’re free to ignore it if you choose, and I won’t punish you in any way other than to deny you permission. Since you’re totally being raped and in no way want this, I can’t imagine refusing you permission to cum would be a punishment.

Jenna had no choice. Unable to prevent her orgasm, he’d soon have all the proof that he needed that her rape was less than literal. She rationalized that doing as he suggested would yield the same results, but spare her punishment for climaxing without permission.

You’re not raping me! she whimpered. I want this very bad, can I please cum?

Is that supposed to be a joke? he spat. Come on, surely you can do better than that. Make me believe it. Prove to me that you want this.

Please fuck me! she shouted against her will. She hated him for making her act like this, but it was too late to back out. Though disgusted with her behavior, her ability to restrain her orgasm was rapidly eroding. You’re doing me a favor by using my worthless cunt! Please let me cum, please!

Of course, he laughed back. You may cum, slut.

His permission was at best a formality; Jenna’s orgasm began before he had finished speaking and she had no chance of restraining it. She forced her hips back into his as best she could under his weight, grinding her crotch into him. No longer interested in appearing chaste in her increasingly unchaste situation, she screamed in pleasure as the orgasm tore through her body.

Coming down, Jenna was beginning to regret the pride she had sacrificed for the climax. Though unable to see his face from her angle, she knew that Nicholas was almost certainly smirking, arrogantly proud of how easily he had forced her to confess her desires. She wished that she had fought him harder, wished that she had not given in so quickly; but it was too late. He had defeated her, and she knew it.

Well, after that display I think we can finally put to rest the silly belief that you’re some kind of innocent, chaste little girl, Nicholas laughed mockingly. Porn stars cum more subtly than you. Since we’re no longer entertaining this bullshit fantasy that you’re secretly not just some cock-crazed slut hell-bent on satiating her perverse desire, I think it’s time for you to do some of the work.

Nicholas climbed off the girl and rolled over on his back. Jenna looked up in confusion, unsure what he expected her to do. Get on, whore he snarled.

Reluctantly, Jenna straddled him. No longer pinned below him, she suddenly felt extremely exposed and ashamed. Embarrassed, she buried her face in his shoulder as he slid into her. Laughing, Nicholas grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back, forcing her to sit up.

Don’t hide from me, bitch, he growled. I want to see your whore tits flopping as you bounce up and down. Now, start bouncing.

Jenna obeyed his command, but was too nervous to put any real effort into it. As her conscious screamed at her that all of this was wrong, she timidly bounced up and down. She wanted very much to drape herself over Nicholas’s body again and hide her face, but didn’t dare disobey him.

This is just pathetic, he sighed. I’ve seen you fuck yourself. I’ve seen you cum while riding my cock. I know you know how to fuck like a whore, and yet here you insult me with this gentle bullshit.

I’m sorry, master, she whimpered. I’ll try to do better.

Nicholas slid his hands up her outer thighs, along her sides, and onto her breasts. His rough skin scraping against the tender skin, he surrounded her nipples with the tip of his thumb and the inside of his index finger. Clamping down, he sadistically twisted the vulnerable flesh – not enough to cause any damage, but certainly enough to induce pain. Jenna yelped, forced herself to keep her hands at her sides, permitting his assault.

I’m not asking for your apology, he explained. I’m not asking you to tell me that you’ll do better, either. I’m asking you to actually do better. I know you can fuck harder than this, just as I’d imagine you know I can twist harder than this. If you don’t want to find out just how hard I can twist, I strongly suggest you demonstrate just how hard you can ride a cock.

Groaning in humiliation, Jenna raised up her hips and brought herself down hard. The act felt surprisingly empowering. Liking the idea of striking him without fear of being punished for it, she repeated the motion.

Good intensity, but we’re going to need to work on speed, he critiqued. You’re not so delicate, don’t pretend otherwise. Hard and fast; I promise you won’t break it.

Jenna took offense to his criticism. She wanted to make him eat his words, wanted to fuck him with such force that he would cry out in pain and beg her to be more gentle. While fantasies of winning just one battle against him danced in her head, she grabbed him by the shoulders, looked him dead in the eyes, and rode him as hard as she could manage.

Nicholas didn’t back down. This was okay. She hardly expected a quick victory and wasn’t about to give up at the first sign of difficulty. Ignoring her grip on his shoulders, he reached around her and grabbed her by the hair on the back of her head. Pulling hard, he raised his hips sharply, meeting her thrusts with equal enthusiasm.

Jenna tried to fight back. Each time Nicholas thrust up, she slammed down, trying to mirror his force. She kept up the unspoken conflict for several minutes, but as time passed found that she was working to a rhythm that he controlled. With each thrust, the desire to defeat him faded from her mind, replaced by the willingness to give in. Before long, she knew that he was leading this dance. The smug look on his face suggested that he knew it too, but by that point she just didn’t care anymore. Submitting to his control, she echoed his motions.

Giving up already, slut? he mocked. And here I thought you might actually have some fight in you. Have you learned your place so quickly?

Remembering how much she had wanted to defeat him, Jenna was ashamed to have not put up a stronger fight. She considered trying again, but couldn’t muster up the willpower. Unable to deny that she was beaten yet unwilling to admit it, she simply whimpered in shame.

I asked you a question, bitch, he growled. And I don’t believe that question was show me how a pathetic slut whimpers when she’s beaten. Have you learned your fucking place?

Yes, she mumbled.

Still not good enough, he spat, pulling hard on her hair. Tell me what that place is, what you’re for. Tell me what you fucking are!

I’m your whore, she cried. My body is yours to use however you like; I’m yours to do with as you choose. That’s my place.

Releasing her hair, Nicholas slid both arms behind her back and pulled her down on top of him. Dragging his nails down her back he moved his left hand to her waste, wrapping it around her securely.

With a final thrust, Nicholas grunted crudely; holding Jenna still. Jenna felt the warm wetness of his seed spilling into her, flooding her womb. She considered begging him to pull out, but decided against it. He was unlikely to oblige her requests, and truth be told she didn’t really want him to anyway. She went limp, passively allowing him to flood her.

After an impressive amount of time, Jenna felt the pulsating of his ejaculation cease. Nicholas grabbed her tightly and rolled over, again pinning her down, but did not pull out. She didn’t mind.

Get some sleep, he advised. I have big plans for your holes tomorrow, and I want you awake and aware enough to enjoy them.

Jenna splayed her legs under his weight, demonstrating her submission. His cock slowly wilting inside her, she felt bizarrely safe beneath him. Exhausted, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.