Saturday, July 28, 2012

Tied

Author’s note:

This is another attempt at writing a non-fiction story. same catch as last time – if you’re one of my frequent readers, you’re probably expecting a very specific type of story from me and this likely isn’t quite going to be it. I’m embarrassingly tame in real life, so this story may seem alarmingly soft-core compared to my usual writings. For what it’s worth, though, it did actually happen – aside from a name change, this is actually a factual recounting of things that occurred in real life as best as I can remember them. That’s worth something, right?

Also, I've bundled this story with two other non-fiction stories and made it available at "name your own price" on Smashwords. If you have a kindle or some other eBook dealie, you can go there and download a copy. Note that you're free to pay $0.00 for it, but if you like it I'd really appreciate it if you could pay something.

Jen identified as a submissive, but her actual fetish was a little more specific. She enjoyed being dominated and punished, but what she really liked was being used as a sexual object. Her big fantasy was pretty simple: she wanted me to tie her to my bed all day and unceremoniously use her whenever the mood struck. It wasn’t precisely what I was into, but it was close enough that I could make it work.

She arrived at my place around ten in the morning. I had her use the bathroom as soon as she arrived. I planned to keep her tied up for the entire day and I didn’t want to have to untie her for a bathroom break. Once that was done I stripped her completely naked and silently led her to my bed.

I had her lie on her back. Using a soft rope I tied her wrists and ankles to the posts, leaving her very little slack. With her limbs bound I then took another piece of rope that I had slipped under the bed earlier and tied her knees apart. Testing my knots, I found that she was unable to close her legs in any way that would prevent access. Satisfied, I slid a pillow under her head. She was going to spend the rest of the day like that, so I wanted her to be comfortable.

It’s difficult to describe the look that was on Jen’s face when I finished tying her down. There was a lot of desire there, as one would expect – this was her fantasy, after all. There was also a healthy amount of fear, which should also probably be expected – we had been together long enough for her to understand that I have deeply sadistic streaks, and being completely at my mercy for an entire day would almost certainly involve a degree of suffering. Overall, though, she looked happy.

It’s a bit easier to describe her cunt. While Jen’s face may have conveyed a hint of reluctance, her genitals were far more on board with what I was doing. Despite the fact that I hadn’t really done anything to her yet, her wetness was clearly visible. Her clit protruded out slightly, she was very obviously ready to go.

I don’t normally just jump right in and fuck a girl. I generally prefer a bit more lead-in; I like to struggle, dominate, and conquer before I actually fuck. In our situation, though, struggling was improbable – she could barely move, much less fight back. Still, I was kind of horny, and it seemed silly not to use her. After stripping out of my own clothes, I fucked her for about fifteen minutes before cumming in and around her mouth.

Our perceptions of that sex act differ greatly. To me, it was honestly pretty unremarkable. It was adequate, but not otherwise memorable. I saw it more as masturbation using her twat instead of my hand, which is basically what she wanted it to be. It wasn’t bad or anything, but it wasn’t exactly special.

Her perception was the exact opposite, though – she was, after all, living out her fantasy. Even though Jen typically struggled to reach orgasm and rarely came more than once, she managed to cum three times during that short fifteen minutes. She later told me that that had been one of the best sex acts of her entire life. The human mind is a strange thing.

Having finished with her for then, I got up and went to my computer in the next room. I spent about half an hour just dicking around on the Internet, recovering so that I could do something with her again. During that time, I considered what was going on.

I wasn’t thrilled with how her fantasy was playing out. I wasn’t opposed to using her as a masturbation aid, but I wanted more. I like struggle, and she just wasn’t struggling. I suspected that was simply because I was using her in a way that was precisely what she expected and wanted; struggle would have been illogical. If I wanted her to fight back, I’d have to do more than just artlessly shove my dick in her and bounce around until I came.

I thought about things that I could do to her that might inspire some resistance and settled on her pubic hair. Jen kept herself neatly trimmed, but she only shaved the bikini line. She didn’t like the idea of being bald down there – she said that it made her feel cheap and whorish. I don’t generally have a preference for pubic hair, but making her feel cheap and whorish seemed like a fun idea. I especially liked knowing that it would be weeks before it grew back, during which time she’d be forced to constantly remember that I had shaved her. I like lingering in my partners’ minds.

Heading into my bathroom, I grabbed my clippers, some shaving cream, and a razor. I returned to the bedroom and plugged in the clippers. Jen’s facial expression was priceless – she didn’t know exactly what I planned to do with the clippers, but I’m sure she realized it wasn’t anything good.

She managed to remain silent for an impressive amount of time. It wasn’t until I had them plugged in and had taken a seat next to her hips that she could no longer hold her tongue. By then she realized what I was planning to do, and she began to beg me not to. She did not, however, use her safe word.

The mouth of a fuck toy is not for talking, I reminded her calmly.

My reminder worked. She immediately shut up, though the look on her face still conveyed that she didn’t want to be shaved. She pleaded with her eyes, but it was futile – I wanted to shave her, and I wasn’t concerned with her objections.

Switching the clippers on, I slowly began trimming what little pubic hair she had away. She groaned in despair, though there was a modicum of lust in her protests. I’m sure the heavy vibration of the clippers on her crotch contributed to that, but I suspect that a big part of it was psychological. Jen had wanted me to use her as I pleased without any concern for what she wanted; that was precisely what I was doing.

It didn’t take long to remove most of her hair with the clippers, leaving her with nothing but stubble. After switching the clippers off I glanced at Jen’s face, curious as to how she felt about what I had just done. She looked afraid and humiliated, which was to be expected – I believe that was the first time in her life that she had ever had all of her pubic hair removed. Just the same, even though tears had begun to slowly trickle down her cheeks, she still managed to look extremely turned on.

I squirted a small amount of shaving cream onto her crotch and began to rub it around. I took liberties while doing so, occasionally stroking her clit for no other reason than the fact that I could. Each time I did so she moaned slightly. I deeply enjoyed her reaction – it felt like she was trying to repress her moans but unable to.

Once I had her all lathered up I began to carefully shave off the stubble. I worked very slowly – I had time, and I didn’t want to actually cut her. She managed to hold completely still throughout the entire ordeal; I don’t think she was eager to be cut either. Though she whimpered the entire time, she obviously didn’t hate it as much as she would have liked to – even with her crotch covered in shaving cream I could still tell how wet her pussy had grown. Being a gentleman, I pretended not to notice and even made a special effort to avoid touching her clit. I don’t think that she appreciated it.

After about ten minutes of careful shaving her cunt was completely bald. I returned the clippers, shaving cream, and razor to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth. Soaking it in warm water, I returned to the bedroom and carefully cleaned away what little shaving cream still remained on her crotch.

By this point I was turned on and more than ready to go again, but I felt like something was missing. It bothered me that from her perspective she couldn’t really see exactly what I had done – I had put significant effort into shaving her and I wanted her to be able to appreciate that. Grabbing my camera, I snapped off a couple of pictures between her legs. Heading back to my computer, I printed out the one that I felt came out best.

I returned to the bedroom with the printed picture and some blue painter’s tape. Taping it up on the wall right next to the bed, I made certain that she could see her new hairless look in all of its glory. I personally thought it looked nice, and I wanted her to be able to see that as well.

Unfortunately, Jen seemed to still be having some issues with accepting that she no longer had pubic hair. Whimpering pathetically she turned her head away from the picture, refusing to even look at it. I wasn’t angry, but I was a little disappointed with her. Fortunately, I was substantially bigger and stronger than her – forcing her to look would not be a challenge.

Grabbing her hair, I twisted her head so that she was facing the picture. She knew exactly what she was looking at, but I felt that it might help to remind her. I told her that that was her new, hairless cunt and reminded her of what it meant. I explained it meant that as my fuck toy the right to decide the nature of her pubic hair belonged to me, not her, and while I was personally mostly ambivalent about the decision I had shaved her for no other reason than the fact that I could. I reminded her that every single time she noticed her lack of pubic hair over the next few weeks, she’d remember that she was my bitch.

Jen responded with humiliated groaning. I think that she was trying to convey that she didn’t like what I was doing to her, but her ability to convince me was sharply undercut by her own body. As I held her head in place with my right hand, I had slid my left hand down her chest and into her crotch. The extreme wetness of her cunt proved that as much as she might have disliked the fact that I had shaven her consciously, she was absolutely loving it on a more primal level.

I considered fucking her again immediately, but I was too interested in her responses. I liked the internal conflict that I’m sure she was experiencing – I think she wanted to hate the fact that she had been shaved, but couldn’t manage to not be turned on by it at the same time. Continuing to hold her head steady, I began to rub her clit.

Rubbing gently at first, I gradually built speed and pressure. Before long her humiliated groaning had transformed into lustful moaning. Still, I heard some struggle in her voice and I wanted to address that. I pointed out to her that if she really didn’t like being shaved then she probably wouldn’t be moaning like a bitch in heat and her cunt wouldn’t currently be making small puddles on my bed. Her face went bright red in shame, but she still couldn’t stop moaning.

Enjoying the verbal abuse more than I probably should have, I decided to continue down that path. I mentioned that I agreed with her – going completely shaven was extremely whorish and slutty, and absolutely not something that a respectable woman would do. I don’t actually feel that way, but she didn’t need to know that. Each time I backhandedly accused her of being a slut she’d react strongly with a groan of combined lust and shame.

I told her that I had originally planned to simply let the hair grow back naturally, but that I was now having second thoughts. Whores like her didn’t deserve pubic hair, after all – going bald would serve as a constant reminder of her sexual objectification. Terrified, she asked me if I was really going to continue shaving her every time the hair began to grow back.

Normally I like communication – I tend to fuck more verbally than physically. In that situation, though, it felt inappropriate. She was a sex toy, not a human being, and sex toys don’t talk and certainly don’t complain. Twisting her head so that she was facing up, I playfully slapped her across the face. I didn’t hit her hard enough to hurt, but it was certainly hard enough to remind her of her place.

After twisting her head back towards the picture I decided that I probably should answer her question. She didn’t deserve an answer, of course – in her current role she lacked the authority to question me in any way – but it had brought a misconception to my attention. She thought that I was planning to continuously shave her, and that simply wasn’t the case.

I didn’t mind shaving her the first time at all. Her reaction had been extremely entertaining, and it was something that I would consider doing again. However, continuously shaving her seemed more tedious than fun; it felt like I’d be simply giving myself another chore. Calmly, I explained that she would be doing the shaving, not me – I’d simply punish her if she failed to do so. Whimpering, she tried to make it clear that she didn’t like the idea, but her noticeable arousal told a different tale. Personally, I loved the idea – I knew that every time she shaved, she’d remember the ownership that I had claimed and the dignity that I had stolen; and I knew that every time she’d have to struggle with accepting how much she unwillingly enjoyed that idea.

I thought about forcing her to tell me that she understood her new duty, but it didn’t seem right. I had just corrected her for speaking, after all, and it didn’t seem like I needed to get her to agree anyway. I knew that she had heard me clearly, and I knew that she understood. I’d simply punish her if she fucked up.

Continuing to hold her head and force her to stare at the picture of her own shaven twat, I masturbated her to orgasm. I managed to get her off extremely easily – it took less than five minutes, which was very unusual for her. Not only had she cum far more quickly than normal, her orgasm was also noticeably far more intense than usual as well. I don’t know if it was the fact that she was living out a fantasy of hers or it was the fact that she was thinking about how she’d have to keep shaving her cunt against her will, but she came hard. When her orgasm eventually subsided, she was visibly exhausted.

Normally I’d have let her rest a bit before doing anything else. I like my partners to be active and participate; it didn’t seem like she would have had the energy to do so even if she weren’t tied down. At that moment, though, I was okay with that. I was warming up to the idea of using her as an inanimate sex toy; her lack of energy wasn’t a concern.

Watching her cum had been a major turn-on; I was rock hard and ready to go. Without saying a word, I released her hair and climbed on top of her. She pleaded with her eyes to be gentle, but she knew enough to keep her mouth shut. Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t feeling gentle at the moment.

I fucked her hard. Hell, I fucked her harder than I wanted to, just to prove that I could and that she couldn’t do anything to stop me. She was my bitch, and I intended to use her how I pleased; not how she preferred.

Feeling sadistic, I mocked her verbally. I pointed out that a respectable woman wouldn’t have let me shave her cunt against her will, and certainly wouldn’t have remained silent when I ordered her to keep it shaven. A respectable woman definitely wouldn’t have been so incredibly wet after the experience. I outright dared her to say something. She struggled to keep her mouth shut, but she managed to pull it off.

I fucked her hard for about ten minutes before she came again. Still worn out from her last orgasm, I don’t think that she actually wanted to cum again so soon. I didn’t really care, though – forcing a woman to cum against her will isn’t an easy thing to do, but it’s something I deeply enjoy.

Watching Jen struggle against her own orgasm was extremely hot to me; it pushed me over the edge. She was on the pill and we were both free of STDs, but I felt like decorating her instead of just filling her with my cum. Pulling out, I blew my load all over her crotch.

I liked how it looked. There was something exceptionally vulgar about how my cum coated her freshly shaven twat. Without the hair, my semen just felt more visible. I thought she might enjoy seeing how it looked, too.

Grabbing my camera, I snapped off a couple more pictures as Jen whimpered in shame. They were good, but they felt a little redundant – essentially it was the same picture that I had been forcing her to look at, just with cum. I liked the look, but I felt that I could do better.

I grabbed a permanent marker. On her left thigh, I wrote FREE FUCK, with an arrow pointing towards her cunt. On the right, I wrote SPERM BANK and added another arrow. Looking at my work I was happy, but not thrilled – it felt more juvenile than I had intended. I liked the idea of defacing her, but I felt like I could do better.

Since I already had the marker out and she was in no position to stop me, I covered virtually every inch of skin with vulgar graffiti. Jen whimpered a little when she saw the kinds of things that I was writing on her, but she didn’t protest. She knew that she couldn’t stop me, anyway.

Having satisfactorily decorated her, I took more pictures. I got a few of her crotch, but I didn’t limit myself to just that. From her angle, she might have been unable to read some of the things that I had written on her, and I didn’t want her to have to wonder what else I had written. When I photographed her face, I forced her to smile – those came out well, there’s something amazingly vulgar about a smiling face with the word WHORE written on the forehead and cum slowly drying around the lips.

Heading back to my computer, I printed virtually all of them out. It took a long time and I pretty much killed my color ink, but when I was finished I had a stack of some of the most explicitly vulgar pictures I had ever taken. Every single one of them was straight-up pornographic, there was absolutely nothing artistic about them in any way. It was exactly what I wanted.

Heading back into the bedroom, I again grabbed the blue painter’s tape. As Jen watched in horror I taped up pictures all over the room. I covered the walls with them, and even taped a handful of them to the ceiling above her head. By the time I was finished, there was literally nowhere that she could look without seeing a picture of her defaced body.

Jen reacted with groans of shame and lust. I found it extremely erotic – I really loved the way she was struggling internally to accept that she was getting off on being humiliated. Between that and the amount of time that it had taken to print and hang the pictures, I was ready to go again.

I fucked her hard. As she moaned in pleasure, I made certain that she understood what the pictures were for. I let her know that she’d be spending a lot of time tied to the bed, and I didn’t want her to get bored. The pictures would give her something to do – specifically, she could read the things that were written on her and really get a sense for what a disgusting little whore she was. She continued to whimper between moans, but she didn’t verbally object.

After getting her off I came myself. The outside of her cunt was still coated in my cum, and I wanted the inside to match. I drove into her deep before releasing my load – I liked the idea that she’d feel my cum slowly leaking out of her twat while being forced to stare at vulgar pictures of herself. I felt it would make it more difficult for her to ignore her current situation, even temporarily.

After cumming inside of her my dick was covered in our combined juices. It didn’t bother me at all, but I felt like using it to further objectify her. Kneeling down next to her head, I grabbed her by the hair. She obediently opened her mouth to accept my dick. It was a nice gesture, but I just didn’t feel like just having her clean me orally. Instead, I rubbed my dick over her face, coating it with cum as best as I could.

I spent most of the rest of the day using her as she had wanted me to. I’d fuck her for ten to twenty minutes, cum on or in a different part of her body, and then dick around doing mundane stuff until I felt that I was capable of going again. I was starting to really enjoy the situation, and I managed to get it up far more often than I thought I would be able to. I lost count of all the times that I fucked her, but by the time the sun went down nearly every inch of her body had cum on it.

Around eight o’clock I realized that I would have to untie her soon. She was probably hungry, thirsty, and in desperate need of a shower; and though I enjoyed doing horrible things to her I also cared about Jen deeply and didn’t want to actually abuse her. Still, I wanted to do one last thing to her to make the experience memorable before I cut her free.

I grabbed a black t-shirt and pulled it over her head, covering her eyes. After tying it tightly, I turned off the lights to make sure that she wouldn’t be able to see. I figured she had spent the better part of the day staring at humiliating pictures of herself and she could use a break.

Leaving the room, I went to my refrigerator and filled a large plastic cup with ice and water. Returning to the bedroom, I placed it to the side and took a seat next to her. I placed my left hand in the cup and held it there, letting the ice chill my fingers. I held my right hand in my armpit – I wanted to keep that one warm.

Even though I couldn’t see her eyes, I could tell that Jen was nervous. She knew me well enough to know that I was up to something, and she probably desperately wanted to know what that something was. I simply sat in silence for several minutes, letting her wonder.

Once I felt that she had spent sufficient time wondering, I took my right hand and began to caress her body. I was abnormally gentle – though I was groping her, I wasn’t rough. I’m sure that made her suspect something, but it also seemed to calm her. I continued to slide my hand over her skin until she seemed completely relaxed.

Being careful to be quiet, I took my left hand out of the cup. By that point my skin was nearly as cold as the ice water it had been soaking in. After drying it off on the bed so that I wouldn’t drip water onto her, I brought it to her chest and lightly brushed my knuckles against her nipple. Jen inhaled sharply while arching her back, noticeably surprised by the drastically different temperature.

Placing my left hand back into the cup, I continued to stroke her with my right until she had calmed down again. She never really got completely calm – she realized that I wasn’t done with my left hand yet of course – but she did slowly relax.

After a minute or so, I took my left hand to her other nipple. I gently brushed over it again, causing her to inhale sharply in surprise. This time, though, instead of immediately taking it away I lingered a bit, using it to tweak her nipple. It must have been extremely cold; Jen contorted her body violently to try to get away from it. Unfortunately for her, being tied up tightly made her struggle completely futile.

I spent the next ten minutes or so alternating hands. I was careful to keep my right hand warm and my left hand cold, and I did my best to keep as quiet as possible so that she’d have no idea which was coming next. I didn’t just focus on her nipples, of course. I touched her everywhere except for her cunt, hoping to remind her that she would never know where the next touch would be or which hand I’d use.

Before long, Jen began to fear that each time I’d touch her it would be with my cold hand. It was kind of awesome – even when I used my warm hand, she’d initially twitch in fear. She’d calm down once she realized that it wasn’t cold, but there was always that initial reflexive fear. I liked that a lot.

Eventually, though, she got used to what I was doing and it got a little boring for me. I felt that I had built it up long enough, and it was time to go for her cunt. Using my right hand, I spread her lips apart, giving her a false sense of security. Taking the left, I gently brushed it up against her clit.

Jen struggled valiantly. The bucked her hips and did everything she could to prevent me from touching her sensitive clit with my frozen cold hand, but it was futile. Laughing, I leaned over her stomach, holding her down with my weight.

Just as I had done earlier I used mostly my right hand on her, but occasionally switched in my left at random times. She whimpered and squirmed, but managed to remain quiet otherwise. Though she might not have exactly enjoyed the sensation of extreme cold on her clit, she was only growing wetter.

Eventually she worked up enough of a tolerance that I could let my fingers linger without her freaking out completely. It was still clearly uncomfortable for her, but she could handle it. Wanting to push further, I slipped the index finger of my left hand into her and began to slowly finger her.

She struggled to handle the new abuse. Though she had mostly adjusted to the sensation of cold on her clit, having it actually inside of her was a different matter. Her breathing was sharp and she was whimpering, but I could tell that a part of her also enjoyed it. As I continued to finger fuck her she began to softly moan.

I hadn’t initially planned to fuck her again, though that wasn’t because I didn’t want to. It was really more of a logistical issue – I had fucked her so many times that day that I didn’t think that I’d be able to get it up again. I was wrong, though – watching her suffer as I pumped my finger in and out of her, I felt my cock getting hard.

Eventually, she adjusted to the fingering. My hand had warmed up and she had become more accustomed to the feeling of cold, and I was really just finger fucking her normally by that point. Fortunately, by that time I was also fully erect and I had an idea for what to do next.

Removing my hand from her, I picked an ice cube out of the cup. By then it had melted down to less than half of its original size, but I was okay with that. Jen went back to whimpering nervously – I don’t think that she liked that I had stopped fingering her, and I’m sure she was afraid of what I was about to do. It probably didn’t help that she didn’t have any clue what that was going to be.

Taking the ice cube, I slipped it into her cunt and pushed it in. Realizing what I was doing, Jen cried out and began bucking her hips violently while trying to push it out with her vaginal muscles. Climbing on top of her, I stuck my dick into her to hold it in.

Fucking a woman with an ice cube inside her is a unique experience. I wouldn’t describe it as being especially pleasant or unpleasant – just different. She was still extremely wet, though she felt tighter than normal. The different sensation combined with the number I times that I had already cum that day pushed my orgasm back.

After a few minutes, the ice cube had melted. Pulling out of her, I grabbed another cube and stuffed it into her. I continued to fuck her like that, inserting another cube every few minutes. Puddles of water were accumulating beneath her, but at that point I just didn’t give a fuck. Jen cried and bucked, but she also came hard.

Once the final cube had melted, I drove into her deep. Grabbing her ass hard, I pumped her full of what little semen I still had left. I was physically exhausted by then, barely able to move, but I felt satisfied.

Climbing off of her, I turned the lights back on, removed the shirt from her head, and took a look at what I had done. Jen looked like she had been through hell. Her body was covered in sweat, cum, and vulgar graffiti. She was breathing hard and struggling to catch her breath. She was visibly just as exhausted as I was, but she also looked satisfied. Grabbing my camera, I took one final picture. The next day I e-mailed her a copy of that picture, wanting her to have something with which to remember her ordeal.

We broke up several months later over unrelated bullshit. When we broke up I deleted every picture that I had taken of her, as I didn’t want to be tempted to use them to do something evil. I spoke to her a couple years later, though. She still had the one picture that I had sent her, and she still looked at it frequently.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Delivery

Author's note:

I've made this book available at name your own price on Smashwords. If you have a kindle or some other eBook dealie, you can go there and download a copy. Note that you're free to pay $0.00 for it, but if you like it I'd really appreciate it if you could pay something.


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.


Samantha was growing tired of the warnings. Every single member of her family and friends seemed to want her to know that delivering pizzas was dangerous work; certainly not something meant for a girl. Listening to them talk, one would think that she had signed up for active combat as opposed to just delivering food.

It wasn’t like she had a ton of options. The economy sucked and no one seemed to be hiring for safer work. Her car was in working order and she knew that she could make decent money off delivering food. It was better than starving to death while waiting for a more desirable job, at least.

It was the end of a Friday night, and Samantha had made mediocre pay. Still new at the job she had been having difficulty finding addresses, and her customers were punishing her lack of promptness with low tips. Needing the money, she volunteered to stay until close.

The phone rang two minutes before closing. Normally an order placed so late would be refused, but she begged her manager John to accept it. She needed the money, and the address was on the way home. Additionally, it was a pretty big order, which usually meant a larger tip. John wasn’t happy about it, but he was a generally nice guy and he understood how desperately Sam needed the money.

Once the pizzas were ready Samantha paid for them out of pocket and clocked out. This would save her the time and gas of having to return to the store after the delivery, as she could simply pocket the money and go home. Loading the pizzas into her car, she headed off.

She found the address without any difficulty. It was a fairly large house, and it looked like someone was having a party. After parking her car on the street she stowed the night’s tip money in her glove box and grabbed the pizzas.

Reaching the house, she found the front door wide open. Dozens of people were inside, drinking and having a good time. Despite the door being open Samantha attempted to ring the doorbell, hoping that whoever was going to pay for the food would come to her. Finding the doorbell broken, she reluctantly entered the house. Samantha didn’t really care for large crowds.

Wandering around, she hoped that the person with the money would spot her. Unfortunately, everyone seemed pretty drunk, and no one seemed to acknowledge her presence. She attempted to ask a handful of people who had ordered the pizza, but most of them seemed too far from sober to give an intelligible answer. It took her a good minute or so to find out that the name of the man who had ordered the pizzas was Quinn, and another minute to actually find him.

Quinn looked like he was in his late 20s or early 30s. Tall and attractive, Samantha quickly felt insecure in his presence. She didn’t consider herself ugly, but in her work uniform she felt tremendously awkward.

You can put them on that table, he instructed after spotting her. I’ll be back in a minute, I just have to grab the money.

Samantha obeyed his instructions, placing the pizzas on the table. Standing by them awkwardly, she waited for his return. She felt as though everyone was eyeing her, but told herself that it was probably just her imagination – they were probably more interested in the food that she had brought. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was suddenly the focus of everyone’s attention.

Quinn returned after a minute and shut off the music on his way in. As he entered the room everyone became immediately silent, making Samantha deeply uncomfortable. None of what was going on made sense to her but she didn’t know what to do. As Quinn approached her she stood still, feeling terribly nervous.

Sam, is it? he asked, reading her name tag.

It is, she timidly answered. Short for Samantha.

Well, Sam, I’d like to thank you for delivering the pizzas, he replied. Despite it being a large order and late at night you were extremely quick in getting here, and you deserve a large tip for that. More importantly, though, you now have a chance to earn an even larger tip.

No thanks, she answered. She needed the money, but she was extremely uncomfortable and just wanted to get home.

Come on, Sam, he encouraged. Don’t be such a coward – at least find out what I’m asking before you shoot me down.

Samantha didn’t want to know what he was asking but she didn’t really have much of a choice. He hadn’t paid her yet, and she couldn’t afford to just throw away the $50 that the pizzas had cost. With no other options, she figured it wouldn’t kill her to just find out what exactly Quinn wanted.

Okay, she replied, trying to mask the nervousness in her voice. What are you asking?

A simply proposal, really, he answered. That uniform looks terrible on you, Sam – though I doubt it really looks good on anyone. Not to offend, but quite frankly you look ridiculous in it.

His words made Samantha feel tremendously self-conscious. She was already uncomfortable with her appearance in the uniform, and having a man whom she found attractive mention it hurt her feelings. The fact that dozens of strangers were watching and listening didn’t help things, either.

Don’t look so hurt, now, he comforted her, picking up on her discomfort. I’m not saying that you’re ugly – just that the uniform is. Unless you’re the person that designed it, you have nothing to be ashamed about. Hell, anyone would look silly wearing that thing, which brings me to my point.

Here’s the deal, he continued. I’m going to tip you $10 for the pizza – not a bad profit on a $50 bill. However, for each article of clothing that you remove I’m going to add $10 to that tip. Lose it all, and I’ll even throw in an additional $50.

No thanks, Samantha replied, trying to sound firm. She was uncomfortable enough as she was, stripping in front of strangers was absolutely out of the question.

See, there’s that cowardice again, Quinn observed. Frankly, it’s almost as unbecoming as that uniform is on you. An intelligent woman would realize that she could make an easy $20 just for taking her shoes off, yet you seem eager to walk out of here with a measly $10 tip.

Samantha considered the proposal. She did need the money, and it was hard to turn down $40 to strip out of her socks and shoes. Still, she felt very uncomfortable there with everyone watching her, and didn’t want to admit that she was wrong in declining his offer in the first place.

I’m not a whore, she stated.

Sam, I think you might be a little confused about what exactly whores do, Quinn explained condescendingly. I didn’t ask you to fuck for money; I offered you money to strip out of your clothing. If you’re too afraid to accept that deal, little girl, then that’s fine – some people are just natural cowards, I guess. Out of curiosity, though, might I ask how many pizzas you’d have to deliver in order to make $20?

Sam unwillingly did the math in her head, and realized that at the rate she was going $20 worked out to approximately 10 deliveries – more if she subtracted the cost of gasoline. Thinking about how long it would take her to do that, she felt a little foolish refusing $20 for something that she could do in a matter of seconds. Furthermore, she was a little irritated with the dismissive way that he accused her of being a coward. Though Samantha wouldn’t exactly describe herself as the bravest person who ever lived, she didn’t like the way that his words made her feel like an insignificant little child. Unable to come up with a reason not to, Samantha kicked off her shoes.

See, that wasn’t so hard at all, now was it? Quinn laughed, placing a $20 bill on the table along with $60 for the pizzas. Easiest $20 you’ve made in your entire life, right? Now the question is, do you want to leave it at $20 or see how much more you can get?

Samantha still wanted to get out of there, but she really could use the money. She wasn’t about to get naked in front of a roomful of strangers, but she realized that there were other things you could strip out of without shame. Eager to make some more easy money, she removed her jacket and socks.

Another easy $30, Quinn announced, placing the money on the table. But that’s about it for easy. You’ve made $60 so far including the initial tip, but you could make so much more. So, what’s it going to be – take the money and run away, or prove that you’re not a coward and grab some more?

Samantha thought about her situation. She was still wearing her shirt, pants, bra, and panties. She didn’t think that she could actually manage to get completely naked in a roomful of strangers, but the money was extremely tempting. Everyone seemed drunk, anyway – they probably wouldn’t remember a thing the next morning.

Taking a deep breath, Samantha stripped out of her shirt and pants. Standing in her underwear, she began to regret her decision – with every eye on her she felt more vulnerable than she had ever felt in her life. Self-consciously, she folded her arms over her body.

And that’s $80, Quinn stated. Lose the underwear and you’ll make another $70 and walk out of here $150 richer.

I can’t, Samantha replied. I’m sorry, but I can’t just get completely naked here.

That’s just silly, Sam, Quinn laughed. You’re already almost there, and frankly your bra and panties don’t exactly cover much. Every man in this room can already tell pretty much exactly what you look like naked, yet you’re going to pass up a chance to almost double your money?

Samantha didn’t like the idea of getting naked, but his argument was compelling. $70 was more than she had been making for an entire eight hour shift, and she really did need the money. Reminding herself that no one except Quinn seemed sober enough to remember it anyway, she pulled her bra off and slid her panties down to her ankles.

Stepping out of the panties, the room erupted in laughter and applause. Samantha regretted her decision, but it was too late to change it. True to his word, Quinn added another $70 on the pile. Picking the money up, he offered it to her. Samantha lunged at it, eager to collect her earnings so that she could get dressed again.

After grabbing the money from his hands she spun around to collect her discarded clothing. To her horror, though, the clothing was no longer lying on the floor where she left it. Clutching the bills in her hand she folded her arms over her body, desperately searching the room with her eyes for her clothes.

Okay, who took my clothes? she demanded, hoping to mask the fear in her voice with a tone of anger.

Unfortunately, no one answered. Samantha knew that they had heard her – though no one was talking she clearly had everyone’s undivided attention. Beginning to panic, she spun back around to address Quinn.

Okay, asshole, she growled. That’s a very funny joke; now give me my fucking clothes back before I call the cops.

I didn’t take them, he laughed. And that attitude is hardly making me want to help you find out who did. Really, Sam, I’m hurt – I thought we were friends.

Samantha didn’t know what to do. She didn’t believe for a single second that he hadn’t been involved in her clothing’s disappearance, but she didn’t know how she could force him to help her. Realizing that she’d need to play along in order to get his help, she repressed her rage.

Okay, I’m sorry, she apologized through clenched teeth. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything, and we totally are friends. Please help me find my clothes, Quinn?

I don’t know, Sam, he sighed. That doesn’t sound very fun at all, and I’m not hearing anything that would be in it for me. I think I’m going to have to pass, unless you can find a way to make it worth my while.

Okay, I get it, she sneered. Fine, take your fucking money back. Should have known there’d be a catch.

There was no catch, he shrugged. The money is yours, and I don’t want it back – if I did, I doubt I’d have given it to you so easily. Really Sam, you should stop being so paranoid.

Then what the fuck do you want? she demanded.

You can start by sucking my dick, he suggested. That seems like it would be an appropriate way for you to apologize for your hurtful accusations. Once you’ve done that we can discuss what I’ll need in order to help you.

I’m not a whore, she reminded him.

And I wasn’t planning to pay you, he laughed. But hey, if you need time to think it over, that’s okay. I’ll be around if you should change your mind.

Quinn walked away after saying his piece. Samantha tried to follow him, but her path was quickly blocked by partygoers. Looking around the room, she felt tremendously nervous. She was fully naked in a room full of fully clothed strangers, and they were all staring at her.

Further complicating matters was Samantha’s reaction to the situation. Consciously she was terrified; she realized that that was exactly the type of situation that everyone had warned her about. On a deeper level, though, it was turning her on. Samantha had always had a deep exhibitionism streak, and her libido didn’t seem to care one bit about the danger that her brain was screaming to her about.

Unsure of what else to do, Samantha began searching for her clothing. Still self-conscious about her nudity, she found it difficult to move around freely due to her need to cover herself with her arms. After a few minutes she realized how futile the task was – her clothing wasn’t lost, it was stolen. It seemed unlikely that whoever had taken her clothes would have simply left them lying around somewhere.

Realizing that she was wasting her time, Samantha decided to search for Quinn. She didn’t plan to actually go down on him in exchange for his help, but she hoped that she might be able to talk him into helping her just the same. Unfortunately, Quinn was no longer in the room and she wasn’t crazy about the idea of wandering around the house to find him. Exploring the rest of the house would mean that more strangers would see her naked, and more troubling that someone she actually knew might see her naked as well.

Steeling her will, Samantha left the room. She hoped that everyone else at the party would be too drunk to notice her state, but it seemed unlikely. As she began to wander, she found that everyone noticed her condition, and most were all too eager to point it out to those who hadn’t.

The staring and pointing wasn’t the worst of it, though. Samantha found that every time she walked within grabbing distance of someone, that someone crudely groped her. Most focused on her breasts and ass, but a handful of the bolder ones aimed between her legs. She was very careful to keep her thighs clenched tightly together – she had no desire for anyone else to find out how embarrassingly wet she had become.

Eventually, she spotted Quinn in the kitchen. Making her way towards him she did her best to fend off the groping hands of strangers, though it was a futile effort. There were simply too many of them, and it was impossible to keep them all at bay.

Doing her best to ignore the anonymous hands that grabbed her she pushed her way towards Quinn. She was sure that he had seen her, but he seemed comfortable to wait where he was standing and let her come to him. She made it within five feet of him before someone grabbed her.

The stranger wrapped his hands around her right wrist, pulling it away from her body. Clenching her thighs together, she attempted to cover her breasts with her left arm; only to have that grabbed and pulled away by another stranger standing on her opposite side. With her arms restrained away from her body, she focused on keeping her legs together – until more hands grabbed her ankles and pulled them apart.

Samantha struggled, but it was no use. She considered crying out for help, but that just seemed silly – everyone in the room was already staring at her, it was unlikely that anyone would actually be interested in helping. As she tried in vain to wrench her limbs free she felt more hands exploring her body, crudely groping her most sensitive flesh. Unable to stop them she simply stood there and accepted the abuse, trying as hard as she could to not be turned on by it.

Unfortunately, the owners of the hands didn’t seem satisfied with merely squeezing Samantha’s breasts and ass. After a few seconds she felt fingers worming between her legs, exploring her crotch. After roughly rubbing her clit for a few moments, a finger slid into her.

Jesus Christ! a stranger announced. You wouldn’t believe how wet this slut is!

I am not, you fucking liar! she protested.

Fine, don’t take my word for it, the stranger laughed. Someone else check this out and back me up – this bitch is literally drenched.

Samantha’s face went bright red. She knew that the stranger had been telling the truth, but had hoped that she’d be able to bluff her way to dignity. As the stranger withdrew his hand a different man slipped his hand between her legs, sliding a finger inside her. Groaning in shame and humiliation, Samantha realized that their assault was only intensifying her arousal.

Bill’s telling the truth, the new stranger laughed. This whore really is juiced up.

The room erupted in laughter while Samantha tried to force her legs shut. It was futile, of course, but she didn’t know what else to do. While she struggled against the powerful hands that held her open and vulnerable, the new stranger began to pump his fingers in and out of her. Humiliated, Samantha realized that she was actually wet enough that she could hear the sloshing sounds emanating from her crotch.

As the stranger began to build up speed, Samantha felt new hands canvasing her body. Groping her breasts and tweaking her nipples, she was finding it increasingly difficult to mask her lust. Biting down on her lip, she did her best to refrain from openly moaning under the assault.

Samantha was in the process of adjusting to the hands groping her when she felt a finger worming its way between her butt cheeks. Mortified, she tried to thrash back and forth but found that the grips on her limbs were far too tight to allow her any defense. While the crowd laughed at her humiliation she felt the finger forcing its way into her asshole, crudely probing her depths.

Samantha was finding it increasingly difficult to control her arousal and maintain her focus. Though consciously terrified, the stimulation to seemingly every inch of her skin was just too much for her to handle. Feeling her vagina growing wetter by the instant, she began to moan against her will.

Feeling her resolve rapidly melting away, Samantha became vaguely aware of Quinn slowly approaching her. Racking her brain, she searched for something to say to him to convince him to help her. Unfortunately, she found it tremendously difficult to focus on anything with the strangers’ hands expertly manipulating her flesh.

Well, I see you’ve found something to keep yourself entertained, he laughed. Should I assume that you no longer want my help finding your clothes?

A very significant part of Samantha wanted to tell him that it was a fair assumption, but she forced that part down. As much as she was enjoying the abuse, she was still terrified and humiliated. Samantha didn’t want to be a slut, and it was difficult for her to ignore that being completely nude in a party while being groped by strangers was a pretty slutty thing to do. Focusing her willpower, she tried her hardest to repress her own moans so that she could answer his question.

You have to help me, she blurted out. Please, I don’t want this.

Is that so? Quinn laughed. Cause, you know – I heard a rumor that your cunt is apparently dripping all over the place. Hell, I can even see the evidence from where I’m standing – George’s fingers are shiny with your slut slime.

That doesn’t mean anything! she protested.

I disagree, he retorted. I’m pretty sure it means that you want to fuck. And hey, good news, bitch – this house is full of men, and probably a handful of women, that would love to help you out with that.

Please, just let me go and help me find my clothes! she begged.

I suppose I could, he laughed, but judging from how easily George’s fingers are sliding in and out of you I think you’d just resent it. You might not want to admit it, but you’re a complete slut and this is exactly what you want.

I am not, she moaned, hating herself for her inability to sound more serious and less lustful.

Well, if you’re going to insist on lying to me, I don’t see how I can help you, Quinn sighed. It’s sad, really – again, I thought we were friends, Sam.

Samantha absolutely did not want to admit that she was a slut, but she didn’t see what choice she had. It looked like Quinn was about to disappear again, and she had no idea how she would manage to get free and find him if that happened. On a deeper level, the fact that she was having difficulty holding back an orgasm was making it very difficult for her to believe that she wasn’t every bit the slut that he claimed she was.

Okay, wait, she moaned. You’re right, I’m a slut. Please help me now, Quinn? I need your help.

If you say so, he shrugged. Sorry, George, but it looks like Sam here needs me instead of you. Step away, but don’t worry – I’m sure you’ll get a turn later.

Unclear on what was going on, Samantha watched as George sighed deeply and backed away, withdrawing her fingers from her. Quinn approached her confidently, stopping mere inches away from her body. Maintaining eye contact, he reached down and slid his fingers back into her.

Quinn’s dexterity managed to make George’s efforts seem almost infantile. Expertly probing her while rubbing her clit, he drove her to distraction. It took all of Samantha’s focus to remember that she wanted him to help her find her clothes, not get her off.

That wasn’t what I meant! she moaned, feeling her legs begin to wobble. I meant that I need you to help me find my clothes! I want you to stop all of this!

See, there you go hurting my feelings again, Quinn sighed. Tell me, slut – what exactly am I doing wrong, here? You’re clearly the expert on getting fingered by strangers, so enlighten me. How can I improve me technique?

It’s not that, she cried. Your technique is fine, but I just want to get dressed and go home!

Fine? he shot back. Come on, Sam, have a little respect for me. I know what women mean when they say something is fine. It’s the polite way to say inadequate. Frankly, my feelings are so hurt that I just don’t feel like helping you at all.

Samantha wasn’t quite sure how she should react. She knew that she wanted to get her clothes and go home, but she was having difficulty remembering why. She did, however, understand that it would be a bad idea to make Quinn angry at her.

I’m sorry, she moaned. I didn’t mean it like that. Please accept my apology?

I’m not really looking for a verbal apology, bitch, Quinn growled. We discussed the correct way for a slut like you to apologize earlier, I believe.

Samantha remembered how Quinn had referred to performing oral sex on him as an adequate way to apologize for hurting his feelings. At the time it had seemed out of the question, but things had since changed. Being relentlessly groped by countless strangers made the thought of going down on him seem comparatively far less slutty than it had earlier.

Okay, wait, she blurted out. I’ll do it.

Do what, slut? Quinn laughed, continuing to expertly masturbate the helpless girl.

I’ll suck your dick, she whimpered, feeling terribly slutty just saying the words.

You make it sound like such torture, he sighed. That’s rather personally insulting, you know. If you’re truly sorry for your transgressions, you probably shouldn’t act so disgusted.

Samantha was torn. Deep down, she did actually want to do what he was asking. Unfortunately, her desire to not be seen as the type of girl that would go down on a stranger that she had just met in a public place was preventing her from being open about that. Reminding herself that she did actually need Quinn to help her, she swallowed her pride and gave herself permission to be honest about her desires.

I’m sorry, she began. I didn’t mean to imply that it would be torture. Please let me suck your dick, Quinn? I really, really want to. Please don’t deny me the honor of taking your cock down my throat?

The honor? he laughed. I suppose when you put it like that I just can’t refuse her. Let her go, guys – I don’t think she needs to be restrained for this.

The strangers obeyed Quinn, releasing their grips on Samantha’s wrists and ankles. Freed, she briefly considered running but knew that she wouldn’t. She tried to tell herself that it was because she knew that she’d be caught, but she knew it was really just because she didn’t want to.

Dropping to her knees, she quickly undid Quinn’s pants and pulled them down along with his underwear. As his semi-hard penis flopped out she hesitated briefly. Painfully aware that everyone in the room was watching her, she was struggling with the reality of what she was about to do.

Reminding herself that she had no choice, she reached up and wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft. As the roomful of strangers watched, she brought her face up to his groin and gave it a nervous lick. Realizing that she would need to do more, she inserted it into her mouth.

Quinn didn’t seem pleased with her timid performance. Placing his hand on her head he ran his fingers through her hair and clamped down hard. Gripping tightly, he forced her to rapidly bob her head back and forth.

As Samantha allowed Quinn to take control of her actions, the other strangers in the room decided to get back in on the act. Again feeling their probing hands, Samantha considered trying to swat them away but thought better of it. She didn’t like looking like a slut, but she could not deny that she was enjoying the stimulation. Besides, they were just squeezing and groping at the moment – it wasn’t like anyone was sticking anything inside her.

The lack of poking didn’t last, of course. After a few moments, she felt someone’s fingers working their way into her vagina. The fingers felt thicker than Quinn’s, but lacked his dexterity. Samantha considered swatting them away, but again chose not to. They might not have felt as good as Quinn’s had, but they did feel good. Besides, from a kneeling position it was unlikely that too many people could see what they were doing.

After a few more moments, another set of fingers attempted to work their way into Samantha’s vulnerable anus. She did attempt to swat those away – though she may have been overpowered by her lust, she wasn’t about to let a stranger finger her ass. Unfortunately, the owner of the fingers didn’t seem to care for her lack of consent. Grabbing her wrist, he held it down and slapped her hard across the ass. As the pain gradually dissipated, Samantha felt his finger working right back into her asshole. Jerking back, she forced Quinn’s penis out of her mouth so that she could protest.

Not in the ass! she growled, hoping to make it very clear that that particular orifice was off-limits.

Quinn didn’t seem to approve. Tightening his grip on her hair he pulled her head away from him, forcing her to look up. Holding her in position he brought his hand down across her face, slapping her roughly. It hurt, but Samantha was surprised to find that it also turned her on.

It’s not a good idea to give me orders, Quinn explained. It’s an even worse idea to stop sucking my dick to do so.

I’m sorry, she pleaded, but I don’t want anyone putting anything in my ass!

Quinn let out an exasperated sigh and shot Samantha a disapproving look. Visibly disinterested in her objections, he slapped her across the face again. Once more, Samantha found herself confused as her body grew more aroused from the rough treatment.

Sluts like you don’t get to be picky, he warned. There’s a lot of people at this party, you know. If we limit you to just your two preferred holes, I don’t think that everyone will get a turn – and that just wouldn’t be fair.

Samantha was terrified. She had hoped that she’d be able to get out of there having simply given Quinn a blowjob and allowed a few strangers to grope her; she didn’t expect to actually have to have sex with anyone – much less anal sex. She wanted to argue, but couldn’t think of anything that she could say that would result in anything other than another slap to the face.

Accepting that she wouldn’t be able to talk Quinn out of it, she switched her focus back to performing oral sex on him. She hoped that she might be able to do a good enough job that he’d take mercy on her and protect her, but a part of her was looking forward to the abuse. Consciously she found the idea of being raped by a houseful of strangers to be terrifying, but she found it to be a major turn-on as well.

As Quinn again took control of Samantha’s actions, the person who had been fingering her ass went back to work. Unable to protest verbally, Samantha merely groaned in humiliation as his fingers probed deeply into her. Unfortunately, her groans simply provoked more laughter and did nothing to stop his assault.

As the fingers began to pump in and out of her ass Samantha began to unwillingly enjoy the abuse. Although uncomfortable, the stimulation wasn’t actually painful. As she began to adjust, she found that she quite enjoyed the feeling of being probed in all three holes. Her willpower rapidly dissolving, she realized that if everything kept up the way that it was she might actually reach orgasm.

As much as she would enjoy an orgasm, Samantha didn’t think she could handle the humiliation that she knew she would experience if she actually managed to achieve one. In the hopes of distracting herself she poured her energy and focus into orally servicing Quinn. She figured that the sooner she got him off, the sooner the whole thing might end.

Quinn didn’t exactly make it easy for her to cooperate, though. Gripping her hair hard he had complete control over her movements, and it didn’t seem like he was planning to cede any of that control. Allowing him to control her head, Samantha focused on massaging his cock with her tongue.

As time progressed Quinn’s control grew increasingly more violent. With each stroke that he forced he went a little deeper and a little faster, frequently gagging Samantha. As she felt the tip of his penis being forced repeatedly into her throat she considered protesting, but had no idea how to go about doing so. Instead she simply focused on preventing herself from vomiting.

Unfortunately, even Quinn’s rough treatment wasn’t enough to distract her from orgasm. The owners of the many hands that were on and in her body seemed to follow Quinn’s lead, and had grown for more aggressive in their assault. Terrified at the thought of cumming in public Samantha again wrenched her head off of Quinn’s penis, pulling her hair painfully in the process.

You need to make them stop, she begged. I’ll suck your cock, I’ll do anything else you want, but you need to tell your friends to take their hands off of me.

Quinn made her regret her demands quickly. Releasing a heavy sigh, he again slapped her hard across the face. Shooting her a disapproving look, he made it clear to her that he was displeased with her disobedience. Thoroughly intimidated, Samantha tried to lower her face submissively; but Quinn held her in place.

Your facial expression tells me that I don’t need to further remind you that you don’t give the orders here, he observed. Just the same, I’m feeling curious. Tell me, bitch – why exactly do you want my friends to stop?

I’m not a slut! she proclaimed.

Looking more irritated than angry, Quinn again slapped Samantha across her face. She let out an involuntary moan, inspired by both Quinn’s brutality and the relentless hands of his friends. Terrified, she realized that she wouldn’t be able to hold off her orgasm much longer.

We’ve discussed the importance of honesty, Sam, he sighed. I thought we were past this – every single person in this house already knows you’re a slut, so why hide it any longer? Regardless, you didn’t answer my question. Why exactly do you want them to stop?

They’re going to make me cum, she confessed tearfully, unsure of what else she could say but the truth. Please don’t make me cum like this, Quinn?

Of course they’re going to make you cum, slut, Quinn laughed. I mean, it’s not exactly rocket science – shove things in a slut’s holes and she’ll inevitably cum. I just can’t understand why that would be a problem for you.

Samantha racked her brain for an explanation, but was unable to come up with anything other than I’m not a slut. She knew better than to attempt that explanation again – she didn’t want to be slapped again, and she realized that her behavior was directly contradicting it anyway. Fortunately, rather than wait for an answer Quinn simply rammed his penis back into her mouth, sparing her from having to reply.

Realizing her orgasm was inevitable, Samantha stopped trying to hold back. As the hands and fingers continued to explore and probe her, she felt her orgasm begin. Moaning loudly into Quinn’s crotch, she hoped that no one would notice, though it seemed unlikely. There were far too many people paying attention to her for everyone to miss it. Besides, Samantha’s orgasms were rarely quiet.

As waves of orgasmic pleasure coursed through her body, Samantha gave up on any attempt to be subtle. She knew she’d probably regret her openly slutty behavior later, but that was the last thing on her mind. Arching her back and grinding her hips back to meet the probing fingers that violated her, she let everyone know exactly what was going on.

As Samantha’s orgasm gradually wound down Quinn pulled her head off of his cock. Looking around, Samantha saw that every eye in the room was still focused on her, and most were quietly laughing. Once her orgasm finally ended, the strangers began to applaud; amplifying Samantha’s shame.

That sure didn’t take you long, Quinn laughed. You know, for a girl that claims she isn’t a slut, your behavior doesn’t exactly agree. I mean, most decent women wouldn’t strip naked in a house full of strangers and then cum so loudly when being finger-fucked in front of an audience.

Her face bright red, Samantha began to weep tears of shame. She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that this wasn’t who she was, but she couldn’t even convince herself. She tried to lower her face to hide from everyone’s laughter but Quinn sadistically held it high, letting everyone see her clearly.

Rather than force her back into orally servicing him, Quinn pulled Samantha to her feet. Her legs still wobbly from the powerful orgasm she had just experienced, she followed Quinn as he led her to the kitchen island. Pushing on her back, he bent her down over it. With Samantha bent over the island, Quinn’s friends quickly grabbed her wrists and held her down.

As Quinn reached between Samantha’s legs she considered clenching them shut but decided not to. Doing so would make it difficult to balance, but more importantly she had little interest in blocking his advances. Sliding two fingers inside of her, Samantha quickly remembered how skillful he was. Feeling that she had already sunk as low as she possibly could, she began to moan loudly as Quinn masterfully fucked her with his fingers.

And you claim you aren’t a slut, Quinn laughed. Less than a minute after you came, and you’re already good to go again. Tell me, bitch – what kind of a woman do you think behaves like that?

A slut, Samantha lustfully admitted.

Good girl, Quinn praised. Since you’re being so honest with me, I think you deserve a reward. You obviously enjoy getting fingered by strangers, but I’m betting that you’ll like the real thing even better.

Samantha thought about asking him to reward her by helping her to find her clothes instead, but it seemed silly. It didn’t seem like the kind of request that he would agree to, and she wasn’t even sure that she really wanted it. Though still terrified and deeply ashamed of her behavior, she couldn’t ignore how much she was enjoying her abuse.

Removing his hands from her crotch, Quinn slowly guided the head of his penis into Samantha. As Samantha moaned in lust, he slowly pushed into her. Though Samantha had been extremely turned on, she felt as though his massive cock was stretching her to her very limits.

You like this, don’t you slut? Quinn laughed. You’ve only known me for a few minutes, and already you’re taking my cock while my friends watch. Tell them what you are, bitch.

I’m a slut, she moaned lustfully.

Goddamned right, he growled, picking up speed. And guess what, slut? As soon as I’m finished with you, they’re all going to take turns too. How’s that make you feel?

Samantha wanted to lie and say that it made her feel disgusted, but she didn’t see the point to it. Quinn obviously had figured out how she reacted to public humiliation and it was unlikely that she’d be able to fool him. Besides, everyone must have already assumed that she was the biggest slut in the world, so it wasn’t like lying would buy her back any dignity.

I fucking love it, she confessed. I don’t want to, but it makes my cunt wet.

Of course it does, slut, he replied. And yet, you rudely asked me to tell them to stop earlier. Correct yourself, bitch. Tell them how much you enjoy their attention, and how much you’d like them to continue.

Asking Quinn’s friends to continue molesting her seemed a bit much for Samantha but she didn’t really have a choice. She did want them to continue, and Quinn didn’t sound like he was asking. Besides, with him fucking her from behind at least her asshole was safe – the worst they could do would be to continue groping her breasts.

I’m sorry I pretended I didn’t like it earlier when you were groping me, she announced to no one in particular. Please accept my apology and use me however you see fit.

They didn’t need to be told twice. No sooner did Samantha finish her apology then she felt countless hands running all over her skin, converging on her breasts and ass. As they squeezed and groped her sensitive flesh, she felt another orgasm rapidly building.

Dude, you need to switch to a different position, someone stated. We can’t finger her asshole like this, you know?

What do you think, slut? Quinn asked. Is your asshole getting all neglected and lonely? Do you want to switch to a different position so my friends can stick their fingers – or anything else they feel like – in your back door?

Samantha really didn’t want to answer the question. The truth was that she did secretly want someone to finger her ass again, but she didn’t want to admit it. In her mind, anal sex just wasn’t something that normal girls did – it was reserved for whores and sluts, and should be avoided at all costs. It seemed so disrespectful and dirty to her. Unfortunately, those very qualities made it extremely desirable as well. She could accept that she wanted it, but she wanted to be forced so that she could absolve herself of any moral guilt.

Quinn, however, didn’t seem to have meant the question rhetorically. Pulling out, he slapped her ass hard before inserting himself back into her. Realizing that she’d have to give an answer, Samantha decided she may as well tell him the truth.

I do, she admitted.

Pulling his cock out of her again, Quinn grabbed Samantha by her hair. After jerking her upright, he led her back into the living room, using her hair as a leash. Taking a seat on the couch, he motioned for her to straddle him.

Samantha eagerly complied; climbing up over Quinn’s seated body. After aiming the tip of his cock at her slit she slowly slid down on it, impaling herself. Evidentially displeased with her lack of speed, Quinn grabbed her ass hard and began to force her to bounce up and down. Once Samantha had assumed the rhythm that he had shown her, though, he released her ass and relaxed, folded his hands behind is head.

Quinn’s friends didn’t wait for an invitation. The instant his hands were off of her ass, Samantha felt their hands crudely squeezing her cheeks and pulling them apart. Once they were spread open, she felt someone forcing two fingers into her. The added girth of the second finger hurt her at first, but she quickly adjusted to it.

It wasn’t just her ass that they focused on, though. A pair of hands reached over and slid up her chest, focusing on her breasts. Looking down, Samantha realized that they were a woman’s hands.

Samantha had always identified as straight. She had never been with a woman, nor had she ever really wanted to. She considered batting the hands away and explaining that she wasn’t gay, but it didn’t seem like a great idea. Not only did it seem like it would be ineffective, but she suspected that if Quinn knew how uncomfortable she was about lesbian sex he’d likely make a point of forcing her into it.

Samantha tried to force herself to ignore the gender of the hands’ owner, but found it difficult to do so. More troubling to her, though, was the fact that she realized she actually deeply enjoyed the stimulation. Though the stranger lacked the forcefulness of a man, she more than made up for it with her dexterity. As she continued to expertly massage Samantha’s nipples, she found herself moaning in pleasure.

So, you’re into girls too, huh? Quinn observed, picking up on Samantha’s enjoyment. Why aren’t I surprised? That’s probably for the best, by the way – you’ll be sucking Jill’s cunt later tonight, and I wouldn’t want it to be awkward.

I can’t, Samantha protested weakly. I’m not gay.

Please, sluts like you can’t be too picky, Quinn laughed. You don’t seem to care about her gender while she’s fondling your tits, I doubt you’ll care much later when she’s fucking your mouth. It’s a moot point, anyway – you don’t have a choice.

Samantha was strangely grateful for his statement. The fact that she really didn’t have a choice absolved her in a way. Realizing that she would be used as Quinn saw fit whether she liked it or not, she stopped fighting her reaction to Jill’s talented fingers. She was still terrified by the thought of having to actually go down on a woman, but it didn’t make much sense to dwell on it.

After several minutes of riding Quinn, Samantha felt the fingers that had been probing her anus withdraw. As soon as they were removed, she felt something wet and slipper being squirted into her ass. She couldn’t tell precisely what it was, but she gathered that they were lubing her up.

After feeling the fingers massaging the cool fluid into her for a few seconds she found out why they were lubing her up. She couldn’t tell exactly what the object was from her perspective, but she knew it was big. She assumed based on how it felt that it was a dildo, and though it didn’t feel enormous it was certainly much larger than the fingers that had been inside her.

Samantha grunted loudly as they continued to force the object into her. Even with the lube it was still fairly painful for her, though the pain was manageable. Pain aside, she was getting extremely nervous – as the dildo pressed deeper into her ass, the fantasy of remaining an anal virgin throughout the night seemed less and less probable.

Don’t look so worried, Quinn stated, having noticed the concerned expression on Samantha’s face. They’re just getting you ready. It might hurt a little, but you’ll be grateful for it later.

Ready for what? Samantha demanded, already knowing the answer but not wanting to accept it.

Ready to get your little whore asshole fucked, of course, Quinn laughed. We’ve been through this, slut – you’re a three-holer, and you’re going to be used like one. Hell, as soon as they’ve got you stretched out I’m going to bend you over and do the honors.

Please don’t, Samantha begged. Please, I’ll cooperate with you for everything else, but please don’t fuck my asshole!

Samantha knew it was unlikely that he’d accept, but she felt the need to try. Although the idea of being used in all three holes was a major turn-on, she was terrified of making it a reality. Still, a part of her hoped that Quinn would outright refuse her request.

I’ll make a deal with you, he offered. The talented young woman playing with your whore tits is named Jill. As I mentioned, Jill will most likely be fucking your face before the night is over. If you can get her off in under sixty seconds, I’ll spare your tight little asshole – for tonight, at least.

Samantha considered the deal that he was offering. She was still terrified of actually going down on another woman, but it didn’t seem like there was any way for her to avoid it. Getting her off in under a minute didn’t seem likely, but she had to try.

I’ll do it, she reluctantly sighed.

Quinn motioned for his friends to back off. Removing the dildo from her ass they quickly obeyed. After wrapping his arms tightly around Samantha’s waist Quinn stood up, lifting her up with him and keeping her impaled on his dick.

Looking over Quinn’s shoulder Samantha watched as Jill took a seat in his place. After hiking her skirt up high, Jill spread her legs wide. Samantha gulped in dread as she pulled her panties to the side to reveal a neatly trimmed bush.

Lowering Samantha to the ground, Quinn forced her down to her hands and knees. As he took his position behind her, Jill reached forward and grabbed Samantha by her hair. Tugging on the hair, she pulled Samantha’s head into her crotch.

As Samantha nervously approached, Quinn squatted down behind her and resumed fucking her. Distracted by his rough penetration, Samantha momentarily forgot all about Jill. Jill didn’t seem to appreciate the lack of attention at all – holding her steady with one hand, she slapped her across the face with the other.

Don’t you fucking ignore me, she warned. If you’re going to get me off in under a minute, you’re going to need to give me your complete, undivided attention.

I’m sorry, Samantha tried to say before being silenced with another slap.

Jill pulled Samantha’s face close to her crotch but didn’t actually force her to make contact. In a way, that was worse – it forced Samantha to actively participate. Timidly reaching her tongue out, she gently touched it to Jill’s clit, unsure as to what she’s doing. The taste was surprisingly pleasant, but she just couldn’t get over the fact that she was performing oral sex on a woman.

You’ll never get her off on time like that, Quinn criticized. You’re going to have to be far more aggressive. Speaking of which, someone keep time – she has one minute, started now.

Remembering that her anal virginity was on the line, Samantha repressed all the negative thoughts she was feeling about being with a woman. Diving it, she sealed her mouth over Jill’s clit while forcing a finger inside her. Gently sucking on her clit while massaging it with her tongue, she began to finger fuck Jill.

You know, Jill mentioned, for someone who claims that she isn’t gay you certainly seem to enjoy sucking cunt.

As the room burst into laughter, Samantha felt tremendous shame. She had never planned on being with a woman, and the fact that her first time was so vulgar wasn’t helping her accept it. More troubling, the way that Jill referred to her so disrespectfully was a major turn-on. Telling herself that she was only doing it to spare herself from a worse fate, Samantha poured her energy into servicing Jill.

Though inexperienced, Samantha made up for her shortcomings with enthusiasm. Before long, Jill was beginning to moan and grind her crotch back into Samantha’s face. Samantha began to feel optimistic – though making Jill cum in such a short amount of time seemed extremely difficult, it was beginning to feel more possible.

The idea of actually making a woman cum was simultaneously terrifying and highly erotic to Samantha. On the one hand, it seemed like the gayest thing that she could possibly do – there was no way that she could consider herself a straight woman after making another woman cum with her tongue alone. On the other hand, she realized that she deeply wanted to be used like that. The fact that it was so taboo only seemed to make it hotter.

As Samantha tried her hardest to get Jill off, Quinn seemed to be trying his hardest to distract her. Bracing his hands around her hips he fucked into her hard, showing her no mercy. His tactics were working – Samantha found it increasingly difficult to pay attention to what she was doing with Jill under Quinn’s brutal assault.

Forcing herself to focus on Jill, Samantha abandoned any sense of dignity and did everything in her power to bring her off. Though she had never been with a woman before she knew what she liked when receiving oral sex, so she did just that. Before long, Jill was breathing heavily and making the same exact sounds that Samantha typically made when she was about to cum.

Samantha wondered how much time had passed. Distracted by both Quinn and Jill, she really had no idea. Still, no one had called time yet, so continued to focus on making Jill cum.

Forcing a third finger into Jill’s vagina, Samantha brought her over the edge. As Jill wildly bucked her hips and pulled Samantha face into her crotch, Samantha felt herself cumming as well. Between the taboo of the situation and Quinn’s powerful strokes, it was simply too much for her to hold back.

Eventually, both women’s orgasms wound down to a finish. As Jill released her grip on Samantha’s hair, Samantha looked up eagerly. She hoped that someone would tell her that she had succeeded and her asshole would be spared for the night, but all she received was more applause and laughter.

Two minutes and eighteen seconds, someone called out.

Well, you do get points for effort, Quinn laughed. Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the fact that you failed to live up to your side of our arrangement.

Quinn pulled out of Samantha as his friends moved in to hold her steady. After rubbing a generous amount of lube into his cock, he positioned the head at her anal opening. As he began to apply firm pressure, Samantha felt the head slip inside.

The pain may not have been impossible for Samantha to handle, but it certainly was impossible for her to ignore. Quinn was larger than the dildo she had taken earlier, and she could feel her asshole stretching to accommodate his girth. Thankfully, he went very slowly, but Samantha still struggled to not cry out in pain.

More noticeable than the physical pain, though, was the emotional turmoil. Right after being forced to accept that she could no longer identify as strictly straight, Samantha was being forced to accept that she could no longer claim to be an anal virgin, either. With her face still in Jill’s crotch and Quinn slowly sliding his dick into her ass, Samantha felt sluttier than she had ever felt in her life.

As Quinn continued to push into her slowly, Samantha could feel every eyeball in the room glued to her nether region. She realized that they all probably knew they were seeing her first time taking it up the ass, and they apparently were very interested in how she would handle it. Some of them were taking pictures and video with their cell phones. Samantha wanted to bury her face and hide from them, but the only place to bury it was between Jill’s legs.

Eventually, Samantha felt Quinn’s hips pressing up against her ass. Realizing that he was fully inside of her, she began to weep in shame. Not only was she no longer a stranger to anal sex, but countless strangers had watched and recorded her deflowering.

Quinn gave her a moment to adjust before he began slowly pumping in and out of her. With each stroke, the pain gradually became less noticeable. To Samantha’s horror, it actually started to feel good. Still mentally reeling from the knowledge that she was getting fucked in the ass in public, she struggled with the understanding that she actually liked it.

I think this bitch is getting off, Jill laughed. She’s quiet, but I can hear her moaning.

I’m not surprised in the slightest, Quinn shrugged. She is a slut, after all. Still, you could always help her out a bit – she did get you off, after all.

Climbing down off the couch, Jill laid flat on her back and slid below Samantha’s body. Feeling the woman force her head between her thighs, Samantha wasn’t sure how to react. She felt as if she should protest in some way, but secretly was eager to let her continue.

Wrapping her arms around Samantha’s waist from below, Jill reached her head up and began paying Samantha back for earlier. Samantha gasped as her tongue made content with her sensitive clit. To her surprise, she found that she deeply enjoyed the sensation of being sucked off by a woman.

Sensing that Samantha could handle a little more, Quinn began fucking her slightly harder. Having adjusted to his size, Samantha found that all of the pain and discomfort that she had experienced earlier had faded into pleasure. With Jill continuing to masterfully please her with her tongue, Samantha found it impossible to refrain from moaning openly.

None of it made any sense to Samantha. She didn’t want to enjoy being sodomized, and she didn’t want to enjoy being eaten by a woman, either. Still, the sensation of both of those things at the same time felt incredibly good to her. She tried to lie to herself and tell herself that she just liked receiving oral sex, but she couldn’t get it out of her head that it was a woman who was making her feel so good.

Focusing her mind, she tried to pretend that it was actually a man who was expertly forcing his tongue into her vagina. Unfortunately, Quinn didn’t seem interested in allowing her to indulge in that fantasy. Grabbing her hair, he forced her face down into Jill’s vagina. Samantha struggled briefly to pull her face up, but it was futile. Quinn was far too strong, and a part of her actually wanted to be forced to go down on Jill again.

Don’t act so reluctant, slut, he warned. It’s insulting, and it’s not like you’re fooling anyone anyway. We all saw how cunt-crazy you were earlier, and we haven’t forgotten.

Realizing that there was no point in resisting, Samantha dove in and went back to tongue-fucking Jill. Forcing her tongue into Jill’s sopping wet pussy; she mirrored Jill’s actions. As Jill’s tongue and Quinn’s cock gradually wore away her resistance, she found herself caring much less about how slutty she was acting and much more about how good it felt.

With Samantha’s face buried in Jill’s crotch, Quinn began to pick up speed. With each stroke he moved a little faster and went a little deeper. Enjoying the sensation of being fucked in the ass, Samantha began fucking him back.

After several minutes, Quinn was fucking her full-speed and Samantha was feeling yet another orgasm building. No longer interested in or capable of restraining herself, she embraced it. As the crowd of onlookers cheered her on Samantha ground her hips down into Jill’s face, cumming hard.

Having brought Samantha to orgasm, Quinn pulled out of her ass. Rising to his feet, he grabbed her hair and yanked her head out of Jill’s crotch. Holding her steady, he proceeded to ejaculate across her face. Samantha willingly opened her mouth to provide him with a target, but most of his semen still seemed to end up decorating her face. What little did manage to find its way into her mouth she swallowed eagerly.

With her willpower completely worn away by the multiple orgasms, Samantha allowed Quinn to pull her to her feet. She instantly missed Jill’s talented tongue, but she was in no position to fight. Leading her back to the table upon which the pizzas sat, Quinn pushed her over it.

Don’t look so disappointed, slut, Quinn laughed, as he held her bent over the table. I may be done with you for now, but this party is full of other people eager to take my place.

Going limp, Samantha was vaguely aware of Quinn’s friends binding her in her position. She could hear the rip of duct tape as the attached her ankles to the legs of the table, and feel the rope wrapping around her wrists. Once Quinn took his weight off her she struggled briefly, more to test just how strong her bindings were than to escape. Finding them solid, she simply relaxed on the table.

Looking to the side, she saw Quinn place a mason jar next to her head. With the jar in place, Quinn removed the cash that she had been clutching in her hand the entire time and placed it inside the jar. Grabbing a marker, he wrote TIPS on the blank white label that was fixed to the jar.

I know that you say you’re not a whore, Quinn laughed, but I think you have some real potential there. I think you’ll find that profession to be far more lucrative than delivering pizzas.

Samantha knew that she should object, but she didn’t feel like it. The truth was that she was eagerly anticipating the rest of the night. In her mind, being a whore didn’t seem like that bad of a think to be anymore.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

The Aquarium

Author’s note:

This is my first attempt at writing a non-fiction story. There’s a catch with this – if you’re one of my frequent readers, you’re probably expecting a very specific type of story from me and this likely isn’t quite going to be it. I’m embarrassingly tame in real life, so this story may seem alarmingly soft-core compared to my usual writings. For what it’s worth, though, it did actually happen – aside from a name change, this is actually a factual recounting of things that occurred in real life as best as I can remember them. That’s worth something, right?

Also, I've bundled this story with two other non-fiction stories and made it available at "name your own price" on Smashwords. If you have a kindle or some other eBook dealie, you can go there and download a copy. Note that you're free to pay $0.00 for it, but if you like it I'd really appreciate it if you could pay something.

My relationship with Laura was bizarre. We typically referred to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend, though I think that was more out of convenience than anything else. Unlike your average couple we pretty much openly hated everything about each other – we just happened to be highly sexually compatible.

We’d go through cycles. We’d spend time together until we realized how impossible it was to tolerate each other and then we’d spend time apart until we realized how much we missed the sex. I’d call her a fuck buddy, but her location wasn’t exactly convenient enough for that – when Laura wasn’t living with me, she was roughly 750 miles away. Not exactly close enough to just pop over for a quickie.

This story takes place during the beginning of one of our on phases. We had just started talking again a couple of weeks prior after being split up for a few months. I had some free time, so we decided that I’d come over for a week to visit her.

Even with minimal stops and a general disdain for speed limits it still took me about 12 hours to get there. It’s funny, driving shouldn’t really be tiring in any way. I was really just sitting there and holding the wheel steady while cruise control did the rest, yet I was exhausted when I got there.

Laura was 22 years old at the time, but she still lived with her family. I had actually never met them before, so they wanted to speak to me as soon as I got there. It was awkward. I don’t exactly look like the kind of guy that most parents want their daughters with, and her stepfather’s personality strongly clashed with mine. Still, we managed to not tear each other’s throats out. By the time I managed to convince them that I wasn’t really that big a threat to Laura’s well-being I was barely able to keep myself awake. Not wanting to have half-assed sex, I went to sleep in her bed with her without doing anything.

I awoke the next morning still feeling exhausted, but I was awake enough that I could fake it. She wanted to do standard touristy stuff – go to the aquarium, see some museums, et cetera. I wasn’t opposed to that, but it wasn’t why I had went there. I like aquariums, but not enough to drive 12 hours to see one.

I agreed to go to the aquarium with her, but I wanted to make a quick stop first. Hopping on her computer I looked up the closest sex toy store and popped the address into my GPS. Glancing over my shoulder she saw what I was up to but didn’t object.

Hitting the toy store I wasn’t exactly sure what I was looking for, but I figured I’d know when I saw it. We browsed for a few minutes as I picked things out. When we left, I had purchased a small butt plug, some lube, and a remote control vibrator that would strap to her clit. She looked nervous when I picked the vibrator out, though I can’t blame her. She knew me well enough to know that she probably should be nervous.

I headed back to her place, claiming that I needed directions to the aquarium. It was an obvious lie, of course – I still had my GPS and she knew how to get there anyway. She argued slightly but gave in quickly – she wasn’t driving, and though she was afraid of what I might do I suspect she was eager for me to do it.

Her parents were at work and her little brother was at school, so we had her place to ourselves. I let her get the door closed before I grabbed her to tear her clothes off. She resisted, and even fought back, but she didn’t utter her safe word.

Laura enjoyed playing the submissive role with me sexually, but she never gave in easily. She typically viewed herself as dominant, and she had always hoped that someday she’d manage to dominate me. One of the few things that I respected about her was that she never gave up. Once I had truly beaten her she’d accept her role, but she always made me fight for it.

She didn’t exactly hold back, either. I’d hold myself back out of medical necessity – if I were to hit her with a closed fist we’d probably be on our way to the emergency room, but she didn’t have that problem. She wasn’t play fighting, she was legitimately hoping that this time would be the one time when she’d finally put me in my place and avenge herself for all the horrible things that I had done to her.

Unfortunately for Laura, I’m about a foot taller than her, more than twice her weight, and I have an almost alarmingly high threshold for pain. She got in a few decent shots (though the bruise never appeared, I suspected that she had blackened my eye), but in the end I had her completely naked and on her knees.

Despite her nudity and submissive pose, I suspected that she wasn’t quite beaten yet. She had a habit of feigning defeat until she saw an opportunity, and I didn’t feel like giving her that luxury at the time. I wanted her to fully remember that I was bigger – my place was to use her as I liked, hers was to simply accept it.

Grabbing her by the hair I led her to the couch in her living room. She cried out in pain as I roughly pulled her along. I hadn’t exactly given her adequate time to follow, but she managed to get there just the same.

Taking a seat I pulled her over my lap, facing down. Knowing what was about to happen she began to struggle as I suspected she would, but I was able to easily wrestle both her hands to her back and pin them down with my left hand. Holding her helpless, I began to spank her brutally.

Laura was funny with spanking. If you were to talk to her, she’d swear that she’s completely immune to that form of punishment and that your arm would grow tired long before she even registered any pain. To be fair to her she did have a ridiculously high threshold for pain when it came to spanking, but I like a challenge.

For the first minute or so, she did her best to pretend that she was bored. She’d occasionally make disparaging remarks about how softly I was hitting her, but as time progressed I could hear her voice growing shakier. Before too long she was no longer able to pretend that she could barely feel it.

The nice thing about her having such a high tolerance for spanking was that it came with an equally high amount of pride. Laura despised begging for mercy, and being made to beg for mercy due to something that she swore didn’t even hurt was both devastating to her and highly enjoyable to me. As I continued to spank her mercilessly I reminded her of all the times that she claimed she’d never give in to spanking, hoping to prolong her resistance as long as possible.

Eventually, the pain became too great for her to ignore. As she began to softly whimper I parroted back the things that she had said earlier, reminding her that it couldn’t possibly hurt because I hit like a girl. She apologized for the things that she had said, but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t want her to take them back, I wanted her total surrender.

Laura was actually probably one of the proudest people that I had ever met. She absolutely despised speaking of herself in less than glowing terms, which was convenient for me. As she continued to cry in pain from the spanking, I told her what she had to do to make it stop. It was simple; she just had to apologize for thinking that a pathetic little bitch like her could ever stand up to someone of my stature.

It might sound like a trivial request, but to Laura that was absolute torture. Admitting that I was stronger than her was nearly impossible, doing it because of a spanking surely didn’t make it any easier. She must have been in tremendous pain – her ass was already covered with bright red handprints – but she managed to hold out another minute or so before giving in.

Feeling sadistic, I pretended I didn’t hear her the first time that she said it and spanked her again. She repeated it louder; I corrected her grammar and spanked her again. She pointed out that she had said exactly what I told her too, so I spanked her again for correcting me. Sometimes I’m kind of a dick.

Eventually she managed to get the volume and words right. Grabbing the bag from the toy shop I placed the butt plug and the vibrator in front of her and told her to pick one so that we could go to the aquarium already. The look on her face was priceless.

Laura had always been mildly uneasy about anal sex. We had experimented with some ass play, but never with anything more substantial than a finger or two. I knew that she enjoyed it, but she was clearly uncomfortable with that fact. Wearing a chunk of latex in her ass for a significant amount of time wasn’t the type of thing that she’d normally be happy to do.

Conversely, there was the vibrator. Laura wasn’t in the habit of having quiet orgasms, and she knew that I had some deeply exhibitionist and sadistic tendencies. Because it was remote controlled, she must have known that I’d exploit the ability to stimulate her at the worst possible times. Though she wasn’t exactly shy, she probably wasn’t crazy about trying to restrain her orgasm in public.

She shot me this incredibly pathetic look, begging me to cut her some slack. I felt bad for her (she really did look miserable), but I didn’t feel mercy would be appropriate. I hadn’t seen her in months, and I realized that that week could be the last time that I’d see her for the rest of my entire life. I wanted to make it memorable.

I let her know that I realized how difficult it must be for her to choose, and maybe I was wrong to force her to make that choice. She briefly looked relieved, but then she remembered who she was dealing with. She didn’t look surprised in the slightest when I explained that if she can’t pick one, I’d be happy to let her wear both.

Hesitantly, Laura pointed to the vibrator. Popping it out of the package I inserted the batteries and strapped it to her. With it securely in place I grabbed the remote and tested it out. Putting it on the lowest power setting I heard it hum into life. More importantly, she let out an a reluctant moan. Spanking always turned Laura on.

I forcefully dressed her, making sure that the vibrator remained exactly where I wanted it. In truth, I was probably using the excuse of maintaining the vibrator as a flimsy cover for my desire to grope and tease her, but immediately after the spanking she wasn’t about to call me on my bullshit. Hiking her panties up high, I forced the vibrator against her clit firmly as she moaned against her will.

I was pretty turned on by then, but I didn’t want to fuck her just yet. I get too merciful post-sex, and I didn’t want to lose my sadism so quickly. Grabbing my keys, I led her to my car.

When we reached my car she realized that her wallet had fallen out during the struggle, and headed back to the house in order to retrieve it. As she walked up the stairs I noticed something – each time she took a step she moaned a little. I suspected that the act of climbing stairs was pressing the vibrator against her a little bit harder, and looked forward to using that information against her.

The drive to the aquarium was uneventful. I turned off the vibrator out of fear that she’d develop a tolerance for it, and pretended that nothing was out of the ordinary. She was visibly afraid, knowing that I’d soon be doing terrible things to her, but she didn’t want to bring it up unless I did.

The aquarium had an underground parking garage. I made a point of parking at the lowest possible level, even though there were plenty of free spaces that were much more convenient. Getting out of the car, I headed towards the stairwell.

Laura tried to tug me towards the elevator, but I made up a bullshit story about how I was afraid of elevators. She clearly knew it was bullshit (we had lived together, I’m sure she’d seen me take plenty of elevators without hesitation), but she didn’t want to argue. At that point I don’t think she realized that I knew what climbing stairs was doing to her, and she probably didn’t want to clue me in.

We had parked four floors below where we needed to be. Right before we reached the stairs I silently reached into my pocket and turned the vibrator on to a medium setting. Laura stumbled a little in surprise and shot me a knowing glance. She probably realized that I knew about the stairs, but was powerless to change anything.

As we climbed the stairs, I intentionally moved slowly. I wanted to stretch it out. With each step she found herself increasingly unable to mask the pleasure she was feeling. By the time we were halfway up she was moaning noticeably. By the time we reached the top she wasn’t even trying to hide what was going on.

Once at the top of the stairs I told her that I thought I had dropped something a floor or two back. She told me that she’d wait there for me to get it; I simply laughed at the suggestion. Grabbing her by the wrist, I led her back down a couple of floors.

Pausing on the landing, I announced that I remembered I didn’t drop anything at all. She knew that I knew what was up, but wasn’t exactly in a position to do anything about it. Turning the vibrator up a notch, I led her back up the stairs.

By the time we reached the top her face was sweaty and her eyes were wide. It looked like she was about to cum. The expression on her face was incredible – she seemed to be terrified that I’d force her to cum in public and equally afraid that I wouldn’t.

I feigned obliviousness to her situation and turned the vibrator off. Leading her towards the aquarium I observed her face contorting. She obviously wanted to get some satisfaction, but in a public place she couldn’t exactly ask me for it.

The aquarium was nice. It was a weekday and most people were at work or school, so it wasn’t very crowded. It wasn’t deserted, though – no matter where we went there always seemed to be at least one person within earshot. The situation was nearly ideal for me, though probably not great for her.

I kept my hand in my pocket on the remote control the entire time. Whenever someone wandered by us I’d briefly turn the vibrator on to a high power setting. She’d clench her jaw and brace herself, struggling to hide what she was feeling. As soon as the person had wandered off I’d turn the vibrator off completely, leaving her frustrated with the lack of closure.

After an hour or so Laura had become so flustered that she was having difficulty functioning. She was finding it increasingly difficult to prevent herself from cumming when I turned it on and equally difficult to manage the frustration of being denied her orgasm when I shut it off. She began begging me to take her home so that she could finally cum but I refused. Like I said, I like aquariums.

We stayed for about four hours altogether. I found the experience of watching fish gracefully swimming by very calming. I don’t think her experience was quite the same. By the time we left, she was barely able to function. She was choking back tears of frustration and barely able to speak straight.

She wanted to go back to her place so that I could finish her off, but I felt that she needed to calm down a little. Instead of heading back I took her to a restaurant that was by the aquarium so we could get some food. For the most part I behaved – I only turned the vibrator on when the waitress was there and left it otherwise off.

Laura had calmed down slightly by the time that we finished our meals. She was still more than a little distracted, but she was capable of forming coherent speech. After paying the check we headed back to her place.

Unfortunately, we had been out so long that her family was home by then. She was irritated – she had hoped to be able to fuck as loudly as she’d like. I wasn’t crazy about them being home, but I figured we still had all week. I’d fuck her in every room of the house some other time.

We headed to the basement down to the basement and locked the door behind us. She had the basement to herself, so we had a degree of privacy, but the walls were still pretty thin. We could clearly hear them upstairs, which meant they could likely hear us too.

Laura looked extremely torn. I’m sure she wanted me to fuck her brains out and let her finally cum, but she knew that she couldn’t be quiet. She must have known that her family knew exactly what we were doing down there, but I don’t think she wanted them to find out precisely what her orgasms sounded like.

I was sympathetic to her fears, but I didn’t feel like just hanging out and watching TV. I had driven across three states to be there, and I didn’t feel like letting all of the teasing I had done just dissipate naturally. It was unfortunate that she wouldn’t be able to be as loud as she liked, but she’d have to manage.

I ordered her to lose the clothes. She was still feeling submissive from earlier, though she was clearly worried. Hoping to put her mind at rest, I promised her that I wouldn’t force her to cum or even fuck her until after her family had fallen asleep. She looked nervous, but she complied with my order.

As she was stripping, I went into the attached garage. Looking around, I spotted some rope and scissors. Grabbing them, I headed back into the basement to find her fully nude.

Spotting the rope, Laura looked both extremely nervous and extremely aroused. She knew me well enough to know that I’d keep my promise, but she also knew me well enough to know that that hardly made her safe. Grabbing her hair without saying a word, I led her to her bed.

I pushed her onto the bed and tied her wrists to the bed posts. With her arms tied down, I picked up the vibrator that she had stripped off. I watched her face carefully, drinking in the fear that was evident. I had no intention of breaking my promise, but I planned to have some fun with it.

She tried to resist as I strapped it back into place by kicking her legs. She actually managed to catch me off guard and got in a decent shot to my chest. Unfortunately, she wasn’t exactly a match for me when she had the use of her arms – tied down, she was easily restrained. Once I had the vibrator in place I tied her ankles to the bed posts, leaving her spread eagle.

With her bound in position, I lied down next to her. It was around 7:00, so I had some time until I’d be free from my promise. Not in any rush, I simply laid there silently and let her mind torment itself, occasionally toying with the remote without actually turning it on.

She repeatedly reminded me of my promise and asked me what I was planning to do. I think that she knew better than to expect a real answer, but I can’t blame her for trying. Instead of answering I just quietly chuckled to myself, toying with the remote.

After about half an hour of lying there, I turned the vibrator on to its lowest setting. Its lowest setting was extremely mild and I don’t think that it would have driven her to orgasm even in her heightened state, but it was certainly noticeable. As the vibrator hummed into life, Laura quickly stopped asking questions and clenched her jaw shut, her face awash in fear and lust.

Low was entertaining, but I wanted to see how far I could push her. Moving the remote to my side so that she couldn’t see it I randomly jacked up the power, only to turn it off before she got too close to orgasm. I made a game out of it. I’d see how close I could push her before shutting it off. She didn’t like the game at all, but I thought it was fun.

After about an hour, she tried to release me from my promise. I appreciated the gesture, but it didn’t seem right. Even if she was okay with it, I had given her my word – it just wouldn’t be okay to go back on it.

After another hour she had given up pretending that she was simply allowing me a way out of my promise and began to openly beg me to break my promise. I calmly explained to her that I simply couldn’t go back on my word even if she wanted me to, but I don’t think she understood. By that point, she was clearly having difficulty thinking straight.

She told me that I’d just get bored eventually, so I might as well finish her off so we can move on to something else. Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t getting bored in the slightest. With multiple speeds and complete control over how long it was on and off I had plenty to experiment with, and her reactions were only getting more interesting.

After another hour she was no longer capable of forming complete sentences. It didn’t stop her, though. Every couple of seconds she’d whimper out a please or something along those lines. It was cute. I told her that I’d be happy to do whatever she wanted, but I just couldn’t understand what that was due to her broken English. She didn’t seem to think my joke was as funny as I did.

By the time 11:00 rolled around she wasn’t even capable of forming words. She’d make pained grunts and groans every few seconds while crudely humping the air. I had to tighten the restraints on her ankles to keep her from finishing herself off by pressing her thighs together.

She had told me earlier that her family would be asleep by 11:00, but I didn’t want to risk it. I had just met them and all, and I didn’t want to create an awkward situation. I continued keeping her on edge until midnight. Laura cried, begged in broken grunts, and struggled pathetically against her bonds; but I was just trying to be courteous and keep my promise.

By the time midnight finally rolled around, I was becoming concerned for her well-being. I had kept her frustrated for nearly the entire day and it was clearly taking its toll on her. Still, I didn’t want to force her into an orgasm if she didn’t really want one, so I made her ask for one in certain terms.

She struggled forming the request, of course. She didn’t like it when I demanded that she enunciate better, but I had to be sure of what she was saying. When I corrected her grammar and insisted that she say please she looked like she’d have murdered me if she were capable.

Eventually she managed to ask me in a way that I felt was acceptable. I picked her panties up from the floor and shoved them into her mouth to gag her with. Normally I liked her loud, but I suspected that she’d be even louder than she usually was and I didn’t want to wake anyone up. Holding them in place I turned the vibrator up to max power and thrust my hand into her crotch. Applying firm pressure, I rubbed it against her clit.

She came hard. Even with the panties gagging her she was still remarkably loud. Tears streamed down her face as her body contorted in orgasmic bliss. I continued to hold the vibrator in place the entire time, enjoying the force of her orgasm.

I let her spit out the panties when her orgasm eventually came to an end about a minute later. She attempted to whimper out a quick thank you, though her mind was still pretty much jelly. Hoping to help her regain her composure I continued to hold the vibrator firmly against her clit, keeping it at the maximum setting.

She asked me to turn it off, but it seemed cruel to do so. She had just spent the last few hours begging me to leave it on; I didn’t want to turn it off again so quickly. Grinding it into her cunt I enjoyed the look of panic in her eyes as she realized that I wasn’t finished yet.

She continued to beg me to turn it off. I calmly explained to her that I’d be happy to; but not until she came again. She attempted to explain to me that she was sore from the constant stimulation to her clit and that it would be painful to cum again, but I wasn’t really interested in her excuses. Besides, she was still firmly tied up and not exactly in a solid position to stop me.

It took her about 15 minutes before she was able to orgasm again, and it didn’t happen easily. She begged for mercy nearly as hard as she had earlier when she wanted to cum, but I was having too much fun to be gentle. Her second orgasm wasn’t nearly as intense as the first, but it was still fun to watch.

After turning off the vibrator I grabbed the butt plug and lube. I made sure that she could see what I was doing, enjoying the look of fear in her eyes. As she watched me lube it up I explained to her that it was now my turn to get off, and I felt it would be entirely too cruel to use her cunt after how sore I had made it. She looked terrified, but she didn’t protest.

I was tired, but I took my time getting her ready. It was going to be her first time taking it up the ass, and I didn’t want to make it too unpleasant. I slowly fucked her with the plug for several minutes as she groaned in humiliation.

Eventually, her groans of humiliation turned into moans of pleasure. As I said, Laura had always enjoyed ass play – she was just embarrassed to admit it. I built up speed with the plug until I was actually fucking her pretty hard with it. After a few minutes of that I figured she was ready.

I quickly stripped naked and untied her. She was exhausted; I could easily pose her as I liked. Flipping her over I forced her to rise up to her hands and knees. As she struggled to maintain the position, I made absolutely certain that she knew what was about to happen.

While still fucking her ass with the plug, I let her know that she was about to get sodomized. I pointed out that a part of my reasoning the fact that her clit was so sore from the day’s abuse, but that wasn’t the real reason. I told her that she was a worthless whore and that fucking her cunt was too good for her; too respectful.

She groaned in humiliation, but she didn’t object. By that point she was very obviously enjoying getting fucked with the butt plug, and I think she was actually happy that I was about to take her anal virginity. Feeling sadistic, I ordered her to beg me to do it.

She didn’t do a great job begging, but she did well enough. Her mind was still more or less liquefied, so I suppose I can’t judge her too harshly. I made sure that she mentioned that she needed it in the ass because a filthy slut like her needs to take it in all three holes. She hated speaking of herself in such undignified terms, but I quite enjoyed it.

Casting the butt plug aside I lubed up my cock. I went slowly, but it still caused her some pain. The butt plug was much thinner than I am, and she struggled to adjust.

I gave her a few moments to adjust once I was fully inside. It wasn’t just a physical adjustment that I was interested in – Laura had been terrified of anal sex for years, and I wanted her to really soak in the knowledge that she could no longer claim to have never taken it up the ass. I forced her to tell me exactly what was happening before I proceeded.

For the first few minutes I went almost painfully slow. She groaned and whined, though I think that was more psychological than anything else. In the hopes of helping her to make the adjustment, I reminded her that she was a disgusting whore who was currently getting fucked in the ass and made her repeat it back to me.

After a few minutes I felt like she could handle a little more. I built up a little speed and started fucking her at a reasonable pace. She still sounded deeply humiliated, but she was also starting to sound like she was enjoying it.

I continued to build up speed until I was legitimately fucking her ass hard. Bracing my hands on her hips I plowed into her at full speed. Laura moaned openly – she knew that I already knew she was enjoying it, and lacked the energy to pretend otherwise.

After about 10 minutes I was unable to hold off any longer. I pulled out and shot my load on her face. Laura despised wearing cum, but she didn’t have the energy resist.

The beautiful thing about the ordeal that I had put her through was that she was far too tired to wash it off. I could tell that she wanted to, but at that point she could barely stand up, let alone walk. She fell asleep in my arm, my cum still dripping down her face.