Wednesday, August 1, 2012


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.

I was in a relationship with Erika for about a year before she left me. I don’t really blame her for leaving me. She said I was emotionally distant and generally cold; both traits that I cannot deny that I possess. When she told me that we were done I was mostly okay with it – I knew the relationship wasn’t working out just as well as she did. Still, she was the first woman to ever leave me and it hurt a bit.

It didn’t help when I found out later that she had left me for another man. I’m fairly certain that she never cheated on me and I’m not the jealous type, but it never feels good to find out that someone you once cared about has a crush on someone that isn’t you. A mutual friend told me that she viewed him as more stable and friendly than me. It was still mildly painful but it made it a little easier for me to accept. She probably needed someone who was a little less insane than me, and again, I knew things wouldn’t have worked out between us anyway.

I got over her fairly quickly, probably proving that she was right about how cold I was in the process. After a week or so I no longer thought about her at all. I had virtually forgotten that she even existed when she called me up about four months after we had broken up.

I let the first call go to voice mail. I didn’t think about her, but I still remembered her phone number and didn’t really have anything to say. We were done, she had all of her stuff back and I had all of mine, and I just wasn’t interested in talking to her. My phone played the tone to indicate that she had left a message, I ignored it. I figured I might listen to it later if I felt like it.

A few seconds later, my phone began ringing again. I considered answering, but didn’t really feel like it. Pressing the red button I sent it straight to voice mail. She didn’t leave a message that time.

A couple seconds later it rang yet again. At that point, I was a little concerned – the behavior wasn’t like her and I suspected that something might have been wrong. I didn’t love her, but I didn’t feel right just turning my back on her if she was having some kind of emergency. Concerned yet mildly irritated, I answered the phone.

Sounding slightly drunk, she started with small talk. She asked me how I was doing, what I was up to, et cetera. I wasn’t in the mood for it, so I asked her point blank what the fuck she wanted. She sounded a little hurt that I had cut her off so rudely, but that really wasn’t my problem.

She apologized for leaving me and told me that she really hadn’t ever cheated on me. I told her I believed her, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t mad about her leaving me, and honestly I thought she probably made the right decision. She sounded a little hurt to hear that, but it was the truth.

She told me that she regretted her decision to leave me even if I didn’t. Apparently the sex with the other man had been excruciatingly bad – the same super-respectful and gentle attitude that he exhibited in real life carried over into the bedroom. Erika liked rough and competitive, he was giving her slow and romantic. She realized when he asked her if it felt good that he was just trying to please her, but she saw it as a lack of confidence.

I was torn. The fact that she said she regretted leaving me made me a little uneasy – I really didn’t want her back, and wasn’t looking forward to having that awkward conversation. At the same time, I’m embarrassingly vulnerable to flattery. When she told me that she was worried she’d never find a man who could satisfy her as well as I did, it made it hard for me to want to just hang up the phone.

I didn’t want to lead her on. I explained to her that while I was flattered that she felt that way, she was still right to have left me. I am cold and distant; that hadn’t changed. I let her know that a part of me did still care about her, but I didn’t want to get back together.

She said that she was okay with that, but she still wanted to see me again. I knew it was a mistake, but I have a bad habit of constantly doing shit that I know is a bad idea. Besides, I liked her aggression – I realized that it probably wasn’t easy for her to call me and tell me the things that she was telling me, and I found it attractive. Knowing I’d probably regret it, I told her to come over the next day. Hanging up the phone, I went to sleep.

I woke up the next day expecting her to have changed her mind. I figured she’d wake up sober, feel embarrassed, and I could go back to pretending she didn’t exist. When she knocked on my door around noon I was honestly surprised. Strangely, I felt a little happy, too – though I wanted to be irritated that she was coming back into my life, I was glad that she had come over.

She looked good – in fact, she looked much hotter than I had remembered her. I don’t know if I was just horny or if being away from me had been good for her health. It was probably a combination of the two things.

Seeing her again brought back a lot of feelings, most of which were confusing. I realized that I missed her more than I had been willing to admit to myself. I also realized that I was angrier than I thought I was about her leaving me. I began to realize that I wasn’t nearly as over her as I thought that I was. I let her in and locked the door behind us.

Erika tried to make more small talk – she was obviously pretty nervous. It felt almost inappropriate to me. I hadn’t seen her in months, I was rapidly being forced to remember everything that I had felt for her and how much it hurt when she left me, and she was asking me how my day was. I told her to shut the fuck up.

She looked hurt. I didn’t care. I had to either address the fact that I missed her or the fact that I was angry with her for having hurt me. Unfortunately, addressing the first would involve some degree of vulnerability, and I didn’t feel like being vulnerable. Being angry just felt safer.

I let loose on her verbally. I told her that she was a stupid whore, and that she should have fucking known that the other man would let her down. I explained that I didn’t give a fuck if she thought she’d spend the rest of her life sexually frustrated; I knew I could find someone at least as good as her with ease. I didn’t really mean most of the things that I said, and a part of me felt bad about saying them, but I felt the need to strike back.

To Erika’s credit, she let me finish. She calmly stood still, holding her tongue and waiting for me to run out of steam. It worked – with nothing to respond to, I eventually ran out of shit to say to her. With an almost bored look on her face, she balled up her fist and punched me in the face as hard as she could.

My reaction was complicated. It had hurt, but I’m a pretty big fucking guy and the pain was well within what I can handle. I was a little angry at her for reacting in such an inappropriate way, but I realized that I had pretty much brought it on myself. I was very surprised – Erika had never struck me as the violent type. Most confusing though, was that I was extremely turned on. I’m in no way a masochist or even submissive, but the courage and energy that she had expressed in attacking me was fucking hot.

She looked like she immediately regretted it. I can’t really blame her – I’m 6’1" and about 210 pounds. When people describe me physically the word intimidating gets thrown around a lot. People my size are typically reluctant to fuck with me, and Erika was almost an entire foot shorter and a hundred pounds lighter. Her facial expression resembled that of a small child who had just provoked a vicious dog through a fence and realized that there was a large hole in that very same fence.

Her fear was unnecessary, of course. I may look like the type of person who resolves arguments by viciously beating my opponents into submission but I typically prefer more verbal solutions. I almost never lose my temper and though I was angry I was still in full control of my actions. Unfortunately for Erika, her fear was also turning me on. I wanted more – though I wasn’t about to beat it out of her, I didn’t feel that she needed to realize that just yet.

Maintaining eye contact, I slowly stepped towards her. I didn’t clutch my hand to where she had hit me or give her any reason to believe that I was in pain, I simply stared her down. She shrunk back a bit, but she didn’t outright run.

Reaching forward, I grabbed her hair tightly and pulled her face close to mine. I could feel the fear in her eyes – I knew she was terrified about what I might be about to do. I could see some resistance, too – she knew that I deserved it; she understandably didn’t want to apologize for something she didn’t really regret.

In a low, calm voice I explained to her that it wasn’t okay to hit. I was intentionally condescending – I spoke to her as if she were nothing more than a disobedient child. I wanted to be insulting; I wanted to provoke her into doing something.

She choked out that I had deserved it, her voice dripping with fear and obstinance. I respected that – if she had backed down instead I think I might have been disappointed with her. Still, I felt compelled to strike back in some way – even though I knew I deserved the punch to the face, it didn’t feel right to just let her get away with it. I tightened my grip on her hair and pulled her even closer, maintaining eye contact the entire time. With our noses almost touching, I repeated my earlier statement about it being inappropriate to hit.

Terrified, she mumbled out an apology. Her tone implied that she was apologizing exclusively out of fear, not remorse. I was okay with that – remorse did nothing for me. Fear, on the other hand, was highly desirable. Wanting more, I asked her what I should do with a disobedient little bitch that doesn’t know how to behave. Lowering her eyes, she told me that she didn’t know.

I chuckled a little, just to put her off guard. Relaxing my grip on her hair but still holding on so that she couldn’t get away, I allowed her to move her head back away from mine. I then reached back and slapped her playfully across the face – not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that she’d know better than to tell me she didn’t know again. Pulling her back in close, I repeated my question.

She should be punished, I guess? Erika offered. She still sounded afraid, but her voice betrayed a hint of arousal as well.

It was the precise answer I was looking for. Not only was it what I planned to do to her, but the way that she gave it indicated that she knew what I was up to and approved. Maintaining my grip on her hair I pulled led her to the couch and took a seat, pulling her over my lap.

Erika struggled a little but I felt like it was just for show. I knew that she could fight better, and I was a little offended by how little effort she was putting into resisting. I figured that the lack of a strong resistance was due to the fact that she wanted to be punished, but that didn’t seem like an acceptable excuse.

I pulled her skirt up to reveal her panties. Erika was wearing a red thong, which felt more than coincidental. I knew she owned conservative underwear, I knew she remembered that I like red; it was difficult not to suspect that she had anticipated that I’d be seeing them. I was okay with that, but I still had some rage that I wanted to work through.

Holding her steady I began to spank her ass hard. Erika typically loved getting spanked – I think that was a big part of her lack of fighting back in any meaningful way – so I challenged myself to hit harder than normal. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do (she had built up quite a tolerance for spanking in the year that we were together), but I managed. Before long she was trying desperately to shield her ass with her arms.

Unfortunately for Erika, her angle didn’t exactly work for defending herself. Laughing at her futile attempts, I effortlessly twisted both of her arms behind her back and pinned them down with my right hand before continuing to spank her mercilessly with my left. She pleaded with me to stop, but she didn’t use her safe word.

I told her that I couldn’t stop until she had learned her lesson, just to see how she would react. Without missing a beat she told me that she was a disobedient little girl and it was wrong of her to hit me. I was surprised – Erika was a very proud person, I didn’t expect her to speak of herself in such dismissive terms so easily.

Unfortunately for her, I didn’t feel like stopping yet. It was great that she had given in and all, but her ass was just starting to turn bright pink and I was eager to change the color further. Continuing my assault, I decided to talk about her choice in underwear and what that meant.

I forced her to admit that she wore them because she had come over to get fucked. I forced her to admit to me that she still thought about me when she fucked herself, spanking her exceptionally hard when she tried to use the word masturbate instead. She resisted a little – I think she thought I was pushing too hard. Still, I wasn’t satisfied yet. She was embarrassed, but I wanted her humiliated.

I told her that her behavior proved that she was a worthless slut and forced her to agree with me. I made her repeat it back to me, then pretended I couldn’t hear her until she shouted it out. My neighbors were at work anyway, so I figured I could be loud. She resisted of course, but eventually she gave in. She shouted every disgusting, self-abusive thing that I had told her while I laughed at her shame.

I was getting bored with spanking her by then, but I was enjoying punishing her far too much to just let her go. Feeling sadistic, I forced her to admit to me that spanking wasn’t really a punishment, as sluts like her enjoy it far too much – and as such, she still needed to be punished for her behavior. She begged me not to make her say that, but quickly relented as I made it clear that the spanking wouldn’t stop until she did.

Once she finally choked out the words that I wanted to hear, I released her and artlessly dumped her on the floor. She landed painfully, looking up at me with an expression of mixed hurt, fear, and lust. She knew that I’d still want to punish her, but had no idea what to expect from me.

I ordered her to strip. Her reaction was far too positive – I think she assumed that she’d enjoy any punishment that required her to be nude. I didn’t even know exactly how I was going to punish her yet, but her eager face convinced me that I should make sure it wasn’t something that she would enjoy too much.

She stripped out of her clothes quickly – I had hoped that she’d be more embarrassed, but I suppose that was irrational. I had seen her in far more compromising positions than simply naked countless times throughout the year we were together, after all. She even managed to lose the underwear without having to be told. I think she hoped that by obeying me so quickly and completely that I would decide not to punish her further, but that wasn’t about to happen. I still had some anger to work through.

Fully naked, she looked at me with a penitent expression. Keeping my voice calm and cold I ordered her to kneel in the corner, facing the wall. She obeyed quickly – though I doubt it was the punishment she was hoping for, at least it wouldn’t involve further pain to her ass.

The timeout wasn’t going to be the punishment, though. I didn’t feel like using physical pain again, but I wanted something more creative and intense than simply forcing her to kneel in the corner for an arbitrary amount of time. Heading to my computer, I grabbed a bunch of paper out of the printer and a ballpoint pen, as well as some lube and a condom for later. I returned to the living room and dropped the supplies at her side.

Erika looked confused but too frightened to question me. Not wanting to keep her wondering, I informed her that I was going to dictate a phrase which she would write down. Speaking slowly and clearly, I gave her the phrase: I am a disgusting, worthless slut. My greatest aspiration in life is to accept as many cocks in my slimy fuck-holes as possible.

Erika visibly hated copying it (again, she was a very proud person), but she wrote it down just the same. Once she finished writing I leaned down to check her work. Her handwriting was sloppy, but it was legible enough. Laughing at her obvious shame, I told her to start copying.

Erika asked me how many times she had to copy it. Her tone was submissive and respectful, but I didn’t care for the question – I didn’t think she needed that information, and it felt inappropriate for her to be speaking when she was in timeout. Still bent over to check her work, I reached back and slapped her ass hard. She yelped in pain and started copying.

With Erika hard at work libeling herself I returned to the couch and took a seat. Leaning back, I took in the sight of her naked, whimpering body kneeling in my corner, furiously scribbling away. It was a beautiful thing – both her fear and arousal were clearly visible in the way that her body gently quivered.

The longer I watched, the more turned on I was getting. I was torn between my desire to further punish her and my desire to tear the paper out of her hand, throw her down on her back, and fuck her brains out. The fact that her sobbing had only grown more audible wasn’t helping things, either. Before long, I was really struggling internally to remain seated.

I considered fucking her and then forcing her to go back to copying when I finished, but chose not to. I didn’t want to give her proof that she could weasel out of her punishment by getting me turned on, even if it was only temporary. Besides, I didn’t want the sex to be just some bullshit simplistic fucking on the floor; I wanted something more memorable. I wasn’t sure I’d have the energy or even remember to make her go back to copying by the time I finished.

I held out for about fifteen minutes. By that point I felt like I was suffering more than her from the punishment, and it seemed like she had copied enough. My cock was rock hard and I was eager to do something with it. I told her to stop copying and had her crawl back to the couch on her hands and knees.

I unzipped my pants and pulled out my dick as she crawled to me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about her reaction – she looked eager to get fucked, but she somehow also looked like she thought the balance of power had changed. That was concerning – I didn’t want her to start thinking that she was off the hook just because I was turned on. I wanted to fuck, but that didn’t mean she had obtained some kind of power over me.

When she got close enough I reached forward and grabbed her by her hair. Pulling her in, I forced her head into my crotch. Erika looked a little surprised by my actions – I don’t generally enjoy oral sex – but she began to lick my cock just the same.

Erika was obviously trying her hardest to please me, but I was getting bored. I didn’t feel like just sitting back and letting her service me; I wanted to penetrate, devastate, and conquer. Grabbing her by the hair, I held her stead and forced the tip of my cock into her open mouth. Applying pressure to the back of her head, I forced her down slowly.

I didn’t go in all the way. I’m not abnormally long by any stretch of the imagination, but halfway was enough to gag her. As she started to choke on my dick, I simply held her steady and refused to let her pull her head back. Tears streamed down her face, but she eventually accepted her fate.

I held her still for a few seconds just to show her that I could before I let her come up for air. Laughing, I playfully slapped her face a couple of times. She whimpered a little, but she still didn’t use her safe word – like I said, Erika liked it rough.

Grabbing her hair, I again forced her down on my cock. This time I pumped her up and down roughly instead of just holding her in place. I wanted to make it very clear to her that she wasn’t giving me a blowjob – I was fucking her mouth. With each stroke I went a little bit faster and a little bit deeper, enjoying the look of suffering on her face.

Making Erika choke was fun, but I just didn’t think she was humiliated enough just yet. I told her how atrociously bad her oral technique was, criticizing everything I could think of. I told her that it was downright insulting for a whore like her to perform so poorly – I expected her to participate actively and enjoy it. Demanding that she participate was mostly meant as a joke, of course – I was in complete control of her actions, there was nothing she could do except take it like a bitch.

Enjoying it, on the other hand, was something that I thought she could actually manage. She struggled, but she managed to eke out a smile as I continued to violate her throat. The look of her distressed face forcing an obviously fake smile around my cock was actually really sexy to me, but I still wanted more. I ordered her to fuck herself.

Erika groaned in humiliation, but was quick to comply with my order. Reaching down, she started masturbating as I continued to fuck her throat. After a minute or so, she was noticeably moaning into my cock. After another minute, I could hear the wet sounds of her fingers in her cunt along with the gagging sounds in her throat.

Fucking her throat felt good, but I wanted more. Listening to the sound of her fucking herself was a massive turn-on, and her throat just wasn’t cutting it. Doing my best to feign disgust, I pulled her head up and shoved her back, causing her to land painfully on her ass.

She looked hurt and worried, which was mostly what I wanted. She asked if she had done something wrong. I told her that I was disappointed she even had to ask.

I let her know where she had failed me. First of all, she had stopped fucking herself when I had stopped fucking her mouth – she should have known to continue until I gave her permission to stop. Secondly, her technique was pathetic – I didn’t think she could possibly make me cum with such a talentless mouth.

Erika went back to fucking herself, but she was struggling to hold her tongue. I had told her countless times that I don’t cum from oral or really even enjoy receiving it very much; blaming her for my inability to get off was completely unfair and we both knew it. I didn’t care, though – I wanted to provoke something.

Sensing that she was close to the point where she wouldn’t be able to hold back her rage any more, I gave her the final criticism: she was entirely too wet, and the filthy sounds that were emanating from her crotch with disgusting. Erika couldn’t keep quiet anymore – she pointed out that she fucking knew how much I enjoyed shit like that, and even if I didn’t I had explicitly ordered her to enjoy it. She was right, of course, but I didn’t care.

Standing up, I kept my shoulders down and assumed an almost submissive posture. Doing my best to sound as cocky and overconfident as possible I began to pace back and forth, frequently turning my back on her. I explained that I thought it was just fucking ridiculous for her to talk back to me, especially after how easily I had made her my bitch less than an hour earlier. I openly laughed at the idea that she thought she might have a chance in hell against me, claiming that her inability to accept that she was my bitch only proved what an ignorant slut she was. I essentially did everything short of outright commanding her to attack me.

She took the bait. She waited until my back was turned and lunged at me, wrapping her arm around my throat and punching me in the kidney. She hit decently hard – it was actually a challenge to pretend that it hadn’t hurt like hell. Unfortunately, it was still well within my limits and I was still substantially bigger and stronger than her.

Grabbing her by the wrist, I twisted her arm off of my throat and shoved her towards the couch. She landed in a sitting down position; before she could rise up to her feet I jumped at her and pinned her down. Placing my arm vertically against her chest, I wrapped my hand around her throat and squeezed. I didn’t squeeze hard enough to actually cut off her breathing, but I’m sure she realized I could have.

Staring her dead in the eye I brought my face up next to hers. She knew that I had tricked her into attacking me, but I didn’t care. Leaning in, I kissed her deeply on the mouth. I was still angry with her, but I cared about her too, and it just felt right. She kissed me back.

Tearing open the condom, I put it on before I broke the kiss. I grabbed her right ankle hard and pulled up, forcing her legs apart. After aiming my cock, I pressed the head into her.

I didn’t feel like going gentle. She was extremely wet – far more so than I had realized earlier – and I figured she could handle it if I went rough. More importantly, I wanted to make it clear to her that the kiss had changed nothing – yeah, I might have still had some feelings for her, but she was still in trouble. With a single motion I thrust into her roughly. Erika cried out, but it was just as much in pleasure as it was in pain.

I fucked her brutally hard. I wasn’t making love; I was stabbing her with my cock. It wasn’t about getting her off, or even about getting off myself – it was about making sure she understood that she was my bitch. I poured all of the anger and rage that I had at her for leaving me into each stroke.

She loved the brutal way that I was fucking her, but I didn’t care. Her pleasure was as irrelevant to me; all that mattered was my dominance. What I did care about, though, was that she was beginning to fuck me back as best as she could from her position. That said to me that she didn’t feel like she was beaten yet.

I wasn’t angry, or even irritated. Frankly, I was glad. I wanted a fight – I knew I’d win in the end, and I absolutely didn’t mind stretching it out. Challenging myself to fuck her harder, I decided to add a little humiliation to the mix.

Sliding my arm up her chest, I again grabbed her throat. I mocked her for thinking she could beat me, telling her that if she wasn’t such a worthless whore she’d have known better than to even try. I forced her to apologize for being such an ignorant slut. She was reluctant to do so, but after a playful slap across the face she complied.

Watching her suffer through the act of having to apologize for being an ignorant slut was fun, but it wasn’t quite enough. Wanting more, I forced her to say the most disgusting things that I could think of. I made her tell me that she was nothing more than a disgusting whore who would fuck anyone or anything. I told her that the only part of her that mattered in any way was what was between her legs, and had her repeat it backwards. I was brutal.

Erika didn’t seem to mind, though. Once I got her started her resistance quickly melted away. With each filthy thing that I forced her to say she sounded more emphatic and cooperative; it was clear that she was enjoying being treated like a whore. After ten minutes or so it became clear just how much she was enjoying it – she came, hard.

I wasn’t fucking her to get her off, but I was happy that I made her cum just the same. It wasn’t just the ego stroke of knowing that I had fucked her to orgasm, though. I was feeling sadistic and vengeful, and I wanted to weaponize her orgasm against her. I wanted to use it to show that she really was the slut that I kept telling her that she was.

I made her admit that she had cum. Her orgasm had been obvious and it wasn’t like I could have missed it, but I wanted her to say it aloud. I made her admit that only a true slut would cum from getting fucked in such a disrespectful manner, she admitted it willingly. She was clearly into it. Wanting to push her, I made her admit that it’s hardly a punishment if she gets off like a little slut whore. She was a bit more hesitant to admit that part.

I pulled out of her and stood up. Erika looked terrified and confused. I calmly explained that I couldn’t keep fucking her slimy little cunt – she was supposed to be being punished, and if she can’t even refrain from cumming then that’s hardly a punishment. Of course, I still wanted to fuck and we had already determined that her mouth was inadequate, so that only left one other hole.

Erika looked absolutely terrified. We had had anal sex before, though it was a rare occurrence and something that she was always nervous and embarrassed about. Given how brutally I had been fucking her, I couldn’t blame her for being afraid – if I were to use her ass the way that I had just used her cunt, she’d be in serious medical danger.

She began begging me to just finish in her cunt. I liked that – begging me to fuck her cunt played well into the slut image that I was painting her with. Unfortunately for Erika, I had already decided that she needed an ass fucking – I had already fucked two of her holes, and it just seemed appropriate to use them all.

Grabbing her by her hair, I pulled her to her feet. After sitting down, I again pulled her over my lap as I had done earlier. She struggled much more than she had the first time. I didn’t blame her – her ass still likely hurt, and she was more than a little worried that I might be about to put things in it.

Grabbing her wrists, I again pinned her down and held her steady. With my free hand, I squirted a large amount of lube directly onto her asshole, laughing as she groaned in fear and humiliation. She tried to struggle for a few more seconds, but quickly realized that it was completely futile – I had her at my mercy, and she couldn’t force me to let her go.

I gave her a choice: she could either take a finger up her ass, or she could take another spanking. She immediately told me that she’d take the spanking, which seemed odd – I expected that she would be afraid of anal, but I didn’t think that she’d be so afraid that she wouldn’t even have to think it over. Still, she made her decision, and I had to respect that.

Her ass was bright pink from the earlier spanking, and looked extremely painful. I could only imagine how it must have felt; it looked like I could hurt her just by brushing my hand against it. With that in mind, I swatted her hard. Erika cried out in pain and struggled furiously to escape, but she didn’t use her safe word.

I held her still until she had calmed down a bit. It took a while, but I wasn’t in a hurry. Once she ceased her pointless struggling, I gave her the same choice again – she could take a spanking or a finger up her ass. She paused for a few seconds, and reluctantly asked for the finger. I think she realized that I was just going to continue spanking her until she chose correctly.

I didn’t keep her waiting – after quickly rubbing some lube onto my finger, I worked it into her asshole. I went more gently than she had probably expected me to, but I don’t think that made it any less humiliating. Laughing at her groans of shame, I began to slowly pump it in and out of her.

I don’t think that I was hurting her physically, but she seemed to be struggling with accepting what was going on. Like I said, Erika had some issues with anal sex – she felt it was horribly humiliating and degrading to the recipient. When we had experimented with anal sex in the past she had enjoyed it and even reached orgasm with minor clitoral stimulation, but her belief that it was extremely dehumanizing prevented her from being able to accept that easily.

Erika continued to groan in shame, but I’m fairly certain I heard some lust mixed in. Laughing, I told her that if she was having difficulty taking my finger we could always take a brief spanking break. She immediately begged me not to – her ass must have really hurt, and she obviously didn’t want to see how much worse I could make it. Realizing how terrified she was of another spanking, I decided to have some fun.

I told her that I thought she was just being polite, that I thought she probably didn’t even want to have her asshole fucked but didn’t want to inconvenience me by forcing me to spank her again. She quickly corrected me, telling me that wasn’t the case. Sensing that she’d have to do better, she then did her best to convince me that she absolutely loved having her asshole finger-fucked. I told her that I just wasn’t convinced.

She panicked a little, probably unsure of what she could possibly do to convince me. Not wanting her too freaked out, I gave her a suggestion – if she really liked getting one finger up her ass, she’d probably love getting fucked with two. I’m sure that she understood that I wanted her to beg me to add a finger, but she seemed to be having difficulty bringing herself to actually do it.

Feeling impatient, I pulled my finger out of her asshole and slapped her ass. I didn’t hit her too hard, but she winced in pain just the same. Remembering how vulnerable she was, she reluctantly asked me to fuck her ass with two fingers. I pretended that I couldn’t hear her and raised up my hand as if I was going to spank her again. She practically shouted the request out.

Laughing, I did exactly as she requested and slid two fingers back into her ass. She had loosened up a bit, but was still extremely tight. She groaned in humiliation as I began to slowly pump my fingers in and out of her, but she sounded like she was enjoying it as well. Erika might have hated the idea of anal sex, but she apparently loved how it felt.

After a few minutes, she had adjusted to the second finger. Wanting to show her some mercy, I worked a third into her without making her beg. Strangely, she didn’t seem to appreciate the courtesy. I could have let that slide, but it felt wrong to do so – she should have known to offer me thanks when I was nice to her.

I called her out on her rudeness, pointing out that it was exceedingly generous of me to shove a third finger in her disgusting whore ass without even needing to be asked. She quickly apologized her transgression and enthusiastically thanked me, but I didn’t feel it was enough. She didn’t sound completely sincere, I felt like she wasn’t really grateful for the third finger up her ass at all.

I let out a sigh as I continued to fuck her ass with my fingers. I told her that it was too little, too late – my feelings were hurt, and if she wasn’t going to appreciate my generosity I’d just have to be less generous. I explained to her that if she really wanted to avoid punishment for her rude behavior, she was going to have to show me how sorry she was by begging me to fuck her in the ass.

Erika groaned loudly; she obviously didn’t like that idea. I think she was having enough difficulty accepting the fact that she was going to get her ass fucked without being forced to actively beg for it. I didn’t really care, though – she should have thought of that before she had acted so discourteously.

Afraid of further angering me, Erika eventually forced herself to beg. Her begging was shit, though – I wanted her to sound like she desperately wanted to get fucked in the ass, she actually sounded like she just wanted to avoid punishment. She tried harder when I told her how pathetic her attempt was, but I just wasn’t feeling it.

I realized that the entire issue was in her mind – Erika was struggling not to moan from my fingers, the only thing stopping her was her fear of the concept of anal sex. I felt that needed to be addressed. As I built speed with my hand, I explained to her that I knew how she felt about anal sex – that it was disgusting, vulgar, and extremely degrading to the recipient. I explained that I agreed with her completely, and that was why she needed her ass fucked. I told her that she didn’t deserve to get her filthy, slimy cunt fucked by me, that she should be grateful for the fact that I’d even consider lowering myself to the point of fucking her disgusting asshole.

Erika continued to groan in shame and pleasure as I launched into her verbally. I said every disgusting thing I could think of to make her understand that I was going to fuck her ass for no reason other than to humiliate her, that I wasn’t making love to her – I was demonstrating her place. I then made her repeat it all back to me, just to make sure she understood.

She struggled to repeat some of the things that I said. I was intentionally vulgar, crass, and immensely disrespectful; and she was such a proud person. Still, she managed to say it all back to me eventually, making it clear that she understood her place. As she repeated the horrible things that I was forcing her to say, though, her voice grew more and more lustful – she might not have consciously liked the things I was forcing her to claim, but she was getting off on being forced just the same.

Once I was satisfied that she really did understand her place, I released her and shoved her to the ground. I ordered her to get on her hands and knees and thrust her ass out in the air. Squatting down behind her I squeezed the tip of my cock into her ass.

Erika grunted in pain – though I had taken my time stretching her out with my fingers, the head of my cock was significantly thicker. I went slowly – I wanted to humiliate her, but I didn’t want to tear her apart. She still struggled to take it, though I suspected that might have been just as much a mental thing as a physical one.

Eventually I managed to get my dick entirely inside of her. I held still for a little while to let her adjust, drinking in the shame I knew that she was feeling. Once I felt she could take it I began to fuck her extremely slowly.

Erika was still obviously struggling with accepting the fact that she was getting her ass fucked. I suspected that she was struggling with accepting the fact that she was enjoying what I was doing to her, even though it was intensely degrading. Wanting to amplify that struggle, I reminded her that I had never actually told her to stop fucking herself. She whimpered, but she reached back and began masturbating again.

As Erika struggled to repress her moans, I gradually built up speed. I moved extremely slowly. A part of it was a desire not to hurt her, but I also wanted to make it last. I was enjoying her humiliation far too much to cut it short.

After about five minutes I was fucking her at a reasonable pace. I wasn’t going nearly as quickly as I had earlier, but I was no longer forcing myself to hold back. Erika was fucking herself legitimately as well; I could once again hear the sound of her fingers in her dripping twat.

As I continued to plow into her, Erika gave up on the task of pretending she didn’t like it. She began moaning – reluctantly at first, but eventually openly. Taking it as a sign that she could handle more, I began to fuck her a bit harder.

I let her know that I heard her moaning, and I let her know that I knew what that meant. She was getting off on being fucked in the ass like a whore; it didn’t bother her how degrading it was because she knew that she deserved no respect. She whimpered in shame, but she continued to moan. Wanting more, I forced her to repeat everything I had just said back to her.

After a few more minutes it was beginning to sound like she was going to cum again. I let her know that I had noticed, and laughed at her for being such a whore. I told her that now that we had established how much she loves it up the ass, I might just fuck her in the ass exclusively. I made her agree that I had the right to pick whichever hole I felt like whenever I felt like fucking.

The verbal abuse pushed her over the edge. Erika came again hard, which was enough to make me cum as well. Pulling out of her, I whipped off the condom and shoved her to the ground. Holding her head steady by her hair, I sprayed my load all over her face.

Exhausted, I collapsed on the floor next to her. Holding her in my arms, I felt good. I still didn’t want to get back into a traditional relationship with her, but it didn’t seem like that was what she wanted anyway. We both understood that we didn’t work as a couple, but we were highly sexually compatible. I figured we could find a way to make that work.

1 comment:

  1. I read your story aloud to an acquaintance and we both liked it, it was the first time in a while I've been turned on by erotica, and the fact that it was a true story probably did help!

    Your writing just flows naturally and I quite like your attitude! Keep it up!