r/BDSMerotica

The lecture hall smelled of old wood, dry erase markers, and the faint trace of rain drifting through the half open windows. Late afternoon light slanted across the empty rows of seats, casting long shadows that stretched toward Professor Jake Sawyer’s desk like reaching fingers.

“Heather Lawrence,” he said, voice low and unhurried. “Stay after class.”

Heather smoothed her short plaid skirt with fingers that weren’t quite steady. At 5'9" she moved with the effortless grace of an athlete, narrow waist, full D-cup breasts, and a firm, rounded ass that had turned heads on campus since freshman orientation. Shoulder length dark blonde hair framed striking blue eyes that usually got her whatever she wanted.

Tonight, those eyes carried a flicker of genuine nerves.

She approached his desk and leaned one hip against the edge, crossing her arms beneath her breasts so the tight white blouse pushed them up invitingly. Her high heels clicked once on the wooden floor before silence settled.

“You wanted to see me, Professor Sawyer?” Her voice came out sweeter than she felt.

Professor Jake Sawyer looked up slowly. Early thirties, tall, broad-shouldered, with calm gray eyes and the kind of quiet authority that made the room feel smaller. He studied her without hurry, sleeves of his charcoal button-down rolled to expose strong forearms.

“Your midterm grade is failing, Heather. Badly. There’s almost no path to passing this semester unless you somehow pull off a miracle on the final.”

Her smirk faltered. She bit her lower lip, that familiar nervous-flirt habit, and leaned forward, offering a clear view down her blouse.

“Come on, Mr. Sawyer… there has to be something I can do.” Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. “I’m very good at extra credit.”

He didn’t blink. “I’m afraid not. I’m only telling you this now so you can prepare yourself to retake the class next semester.”

Panic flared hot in her chest. She straightened, then immediately shifted tactics, planting both hands on his desk and leaning in closer. The scent of his cologne, woody and expensive, wrapped around her.

“My father donates a lot of money to this school,” she said softly. “Surely we can work something out. Privately.”

Professor Sawyer’s expression remained neutral. “What exactly are you proposing, Miss Lawrence?”

Heather’s blue eyes darkened. She wet her lower lip slowly. “I’m proposing an arrangement. I can be very good company. Private tutoring sessions… after hours.” Her voice turned sultry. “I give incredible head. My pussy is tight and always wet for the right man. You can fuck me however you want — throat, cunt, ass, whenever you want. Just give me a passing grade. No one ever has to know.”

A beat of silence.

Then Professor Sawyer let out a low, quiet laugh, not cruel, simply amused.

“No.”

Heather’s mouth fell open. For a second she looked genuinely stunned.

“What do you mean, no?” She straightened, frustration sharpening her tone. “I’m literally offering to suck your dick for a passing grade and you’re saying no?”

“Correct.”

She stared at him in disbelief, cheeks flushing. “You’re joking. I’m offering you sex on a silver platter. No strings. And you just… say no?”

He leaned back slightly, still perfectly calm. “That’s right.”

Heather’s composure cracked. “Why?! No one has ever turned me down before. I’m not ugly, Professor. Look at me.” She gestured to her body, her long athletic legs, full breasts, the curve of her ass. “Everyone on this campus wants me.”

Professor Sawyer’s gray eyes traveled over her slowly, deliberately, before returning to her face. His voice stayed low and controlled, but there was steel beneath the calm.

“Everyone on this campus has already had you, Heather. I’m not interested in used-up pussy.”

The words landed like a slap.

Heather’s face burned crimson. For a heartbeat she was speechless, then shame and anger collided inside her, hot and liquid. And beneath it, something far more humiliating: a sudden, shameful rush of wetness between her thighs.

Used-up.

The word echoed.

She remembered the night the entire defensive line of the football team had taken turns on her in the locker room after the homecoming game three of them at once while the others watched and cheered, her moans echoing off the metal lockers as they passed her around like a trophy.

She remembered being the “entertainment” at that Sigma Nu frat party last month, bent over the pool table in nothing but heels while half the house lined up, laughing and high fiving as they used every hole until she could barely walk.

And now this man, this calm, controlled professor, was looking at her like she was already spoiled goods.

The humiliation should have made her want to die.

Instead it made her clit throb.

“You can’t just… why?!” Her voice wavered, a mix of fury and desperate need. “No one has ever rejected me before. I can be better. I’ll only fuck you from now on. I swear.”

Professor Sawyer shook his head once, slowly. “No. You won’t.”

Heather stood there trembling, skirt suddenly feeling too short, blouse too tight, the weight of her reputation crushing down on her. Tears of frustration pricked at the corners of her eyes even as her soaked panties clung to her swollen pussy.

She stared at the floor for a long moment, mind racing desperately. Then something darker clicked into place, a filthy, humiliating lifeline.

Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Wait,” she said, stepping closer again. “I have a better proposal.”

Professor Sawyer checked his watch. “You have thirty seconds.”

Heather leaned in, blue eyes gleaming with twisted determination. “Forget about me. I know plenty of other girls. Fresh ones. Innocent. Tight little virgin pussies that have barely been touched.” She placed one hand flat on his desk, leaning closer. “Give me a few days, Mr. Sawyer. I’ll bring you whoever you want. Cheerleader types. Shy bookworms. First-years who’ve never been properly fucked.”

Her breathing was ragged now, nipples tight against her blouse.

“You can have them. Break them in. I’ll even help… warm them up for you, get them ready, whatever you need. Just pass me.”

She looked up at him, flushed and trembling, the shame burning through her like the most intoxicating drug she’d ever felt.

Professor Jake Sawyer regarded her in heavy silence. Then the faintest predatory smile touched the corner of his mouth.

“Interesting,” he murmured, voice smooth as velvet.

He reached out and gently tucked a strand of her dark blonde hair behind her ear, the light touch sending electricity racing down her spine.

“We’ll discuss the terms of your new offer next week, Miss Lawrence. After you’ve had time to consider exactly what you’re volunteering to become for me.”

Heather stood there, heart hammering, panties drenched, the weight of what she had just proposed sinking deep into her bones.

She had just offered to become his procurer.

And deep down, in the filthy, aching core of her, she already knew she was going to love every second of it.

I send you the text at 9:17 a.m.

“It’s time.”

You know exactly what that means.

Your hands are already shaking a little as you peel the adhesive backing off the shock pads and press them firmly over your nipples. The cold metal contacts make you gasp. Then you slide the smooth, egg-shaped vibrator deep inside your pussy until it settles against your g-spot. You pull your panties and jeans back up, button your blouse, and look at yourself in the mirror.

On the outside you look completely normal.
On the inside you’re already mine.

For the next several hours I’m going to play with you while you try to live your normal day.

The first hour is light and playful.

I start with short, low-power shocks, just enough to make your nipples tighten and your breath hitch. You’re in the middle of a conversation at work when the first one hits. Your eyes widen, your hand instinctively flies toward your chest before you catch yourself. A few seconds later the vibrator kicks on, a gentle, teasing buzz that makes your thighs press together. You try to keep your voice steady, but I can imagine the flush creeping up your neck.

I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing… and I don’t care.

I keep the shocks random and the vibrations short. Sometimes I let you have thirty full seconds of delicious buzzing before cutting it off right as your breathing starts to change. You’re squirming in your chair, trying so hard to look normal while your pussy clenches around the toy and your nipples throb under your shirt.

The second hour I turn up the intensity.

Now it’s sixty seconds of alternating medium shocks and pulsing vibrations. The shocks make you jolt and bite your lip. The vibrations make you wetter and wetter. I give you just enough silence between cycles for you to think it’s over… then I start again. You’re trying to shop for groceries, pushing a cart down the aisle, when a strong pulse hits your clit and a sharp shock bites your nipples at the same time. Your knees almost buckle. You grip the handle of the cart until your knuckles turn white, praying no one notices the way your thighs are trembling.

By the third hour I stop playing nice.

I crank the vibrator to its highest setting and just… leave it there. Constant, merciless buzzing deep inside you. At the same time I start sending random, strong shocks to your nipples, some quick, some lingering for several long seconds. You’re soaked. Your legs are shaking. You’re texting me desperate little messages with one hand while you try to look normal on the outside.

“Please Sir… I can’t take much more…”

I make you wait.

I let the toy buzz and your nipples sting for several more agonizing minutes while you fight the urge to cum right there in public. Your texts become more frantic, more broken.

Finally, when I decide you’ve suffered beautifully enough, I send you one single word.

“Cum.”

Wherever you are, in your car, in the store, at your desk, your body obeys instantly. The orgasm rips through you without mercy. Your pussy clamps down hard around the vibrator, your back arches, your mouth falls open in a silent cry. Wave after wave crashes over you while I keep the shocks coming, drawing it out, forcing you to ride every single pulse until your legs are shaking so badly you have to lean against something for support.

When it finally subsides you’re a trembling, soaked, breathless mess.

I wait until your breathing starts to slow, then I text you again.

“Good girl. You took that so fucking well for me.”

I leave the vibrator on low, just enough to keep you sensitive and dripping while you finish your day.

I 19F have been exploring my submissive side with a much older Dom for the past month. Last night he told me to come over wearing nothing but a long coat. The second I stepped inside he took the coat off and made me stand naked in the middle of his living room.

He tied me up beautifully. He bound my wrists to my ankles in a strict hogtie on his coffee table, then used more rope to pull my legs wide apart so my pussy and ass were completely exposed and helpless. I couldn’t move at all. He walked around me slowly, running his fingers over my body, slapping my tits and ass while telling me how young and eager I looked.

You’re just a tight little 19 year old slut who needs to be broken in, he said. The words made me blush hard but my pussy was already dripping onto the table.

He started spanking me with his bare hand, then a leather paddle. Each strike made me jerk against the ropes and moan louder. My ass was burning and red when he finally stopped. Then he pushed a thick vibrator against my clit and edged me mercilessly. Every time I got close to coming he pulled it away and slapped my pussy hard. I was begging and crying after the fifth time, completely desperate.

He finally untied my legs just enough to fuck me. He shoved his thick cock deep inside me while I was still mostly tied and pounded me without mercy. The table creaked under us as he used me like a toy. He pulled my hair, choked me lightly, and kept calling me his dirty little whore and his personal cum hole.

I came so hard I saw stars, my whole body shaking in the ropes. He didn’t stop. He kept fucking me through my orgasm until I was a whimpering mess. When he was ready he pulled out and covered my face and tits with his hot cum.

He left me tied there for a while afterward, covered in his load, breathing heavily and feeling completely owned. I felt so small, so used, and so satisfied. The rope marks on my skin and the soreness between my legs are still there today and every time I feel them I get wet again.

Being completely helpless and degraded like that is the best feeling I’ve ever had. I can’t wait for him to tie me up even tighter next time.

The heavy oak desk glowed under the warm light of the study lamp. Olivia stood before it in nothing but a thin silk robe that barely reached the tops of her thighs. Across from her sat Marcus, her boyfriend of eleven months now her Sir holding a thick stack of papers.

“You’ve read every page, haven’t you, pet?” he asked smoothly, tapping the final page with his fountain pen.

Olivia nodded, cheeks flushed. She had spent weeks going over the contract. It started so reasonably: rules about chores, orgasms, clothing permissions, daily check-ins. But as the sections grew more intense, her arousal had clouded her judgment. Now here she was, on the edge of signing away her freedom.

Marcus smiled as if reading her mind. “This final clause is just a formality, sweetheart. It simply confirms that once you sign, you fully accept your role as my personal fucktoy. Twenty-four seven training begins immediately. No more negotiations.”

He slid the paper toward her. The clause was written in elegant, formal language:

“The submissive agrees to surrender all autonomy regarding her body and sexuality. She shall be used as Sir’s fucktoy at any time, in any manner he chooses. Training will be intensive and continuous until Sir is satisfied with her obedience and usefulness.”

Olivia bit her lip, reading it again. Her pussy was already wet.

“I… I thought the training would be gradual,” she whispered.

Marcus stood up and moved behind her. He slowly slipped the silk robe off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. His hands cupped her breasts from behind, thumbs brushing her hardening nipples.

“It will be gradual… for the first week,” he murmured against her ear. “But you already agreed to the rest. You want this, Olivia. You’ve been dripping at the thought of being owned for months. Sign it, and I’ll finally give you what you’ve been craving.”

His fingers slid down her stomach and between her legs, finding her soaked. He circled her clit slowly, teasing.

“Sign it, and I’ll fuck you over this desk tonight as my official property. Refuse… and we stop everything. No more scenes. No more collar. No more of my cock.”

The manipulation hit perfectly. Olivia’s breath hitched. She was too deep in too addicted to the way he controlled her.

With a trembling hand, she picked up the pen.

“That’s my good girl,” Marcus praised, still fingering her as she leaned over the desk. “Sign right there… yes, just like that.”

The pen scratched across the paper. The moment she finished the final letter, Marcus took the contract, locked it in his drawer, and pressed her chest down onto the cool wood.

“Congratulations, pet. You’re now officially my fucktoy.”

He kicked her legs apart and thrust into her in one smooth, possessive stroke. Olivia moaned loudly, gripping the edge of the desk as he fucked her hard.

“From tonight onward, you address me only as Sir or Owner. You sleep with your legs spread. You ask permission to cum, to eat, to use the bathroom. Your holes exist for my pleasure.”

Each deep thrust emphasized his words.

“Yes, Sir!” she gasped, already feeling the first waves of a humiliating orgasm approaching.

Marcus grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. “This is just the beginning of your training. By the end of the month, you’ll be begging to be caged, plugged, and passed around like the eager little fucktoy you truly are.”

Olivia came hard around his cock, crying out as the weight of what she had just signed sank in.

The final clause was now binding.

And her real training had only just begun.

The basement playroom was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of leather and her own desperate arousal. Ava knelt completely naked on the cold hardwood floor, her knees aching, forehead pressed against the toe of his heavy black leather boots.

"Pathetic," he sneered from above, looking down at her with contempt. "Look at you. A proud, beautiful woman reduced to groveling at my dirty boots like a worthless bitch."

Ava whimpered, her pussy throbbing painfully. She had been edged for nearly two hours already — brought right to the brink over and over, only to be denied each time. Now she was broken down exactly where he wanted her.

"Please, Sir..." she whispered, lips brushing the polished leather. "I'll do anything. Just let me cum."

He laughed coldly and pressed the sole of his boot against her cheek, smearing a bit of dirt across her skin.

"Anything? Then start licking. Clean them properly. And don't you dare touch that dripping cunt."

Ava's face burned with humiliation as she extended her tongue and began licking his boots. She dragged it slowly along the leather, tasting the faint grit and polish. She worked diligently — licking the sides, the top, even the soles when he lifted his foot. Every few seconds she looked up at him with desperate, watery eyes.

"Good little bootlicker," he mocked. "This is what you're good for. Not your fancy job, not your degrees — just worshipping my feet like a desperate, denied whore."

He shifted his other boot forward, pressing it firmly against her mouth.

"Suck the heel. Show me how badly you want permission to cum."

Ava obeyed without hesitation, wrapping her lips around the thick heel of his boot and sucking it like it was his cock. Drool ran down her chin as she moaned pathetically, grinding her hips uselessly in the air. Her swollen clit ached, her thighs slick with her own juices.

After several long minutes, he pulled his boot away and rested it on her shoulder, pinning her down slightly.

"Beg," he commanded. "Beg like the foot-obsessed slut you are."

Tears of frustration pricked her eyes as she pressed her lips to the toe of his boot again.

"Please, Sir… I’m just a pathetic boot whore. I don’t deserve your cock. I don’t even deserve to touch myself. But please let me cum. I’ll lick your boots every single day. I’ll clean them with my tongue after you’ve walked through mud. I’ll crawl behind you and kiss them whenever you snap your fingers. Just please let your denied little toy have an orgasm… I’m begging you!"

He smirked and pressed the toe of his boot between her spread thighs, rubbing it roughly against her dripping pussy.

Ava gasped and immediately started grinding against the leather, moaning loudly.

"Look at that," he laughed. "Humping my boot like a bitch in heat. So fucking disgusting."

The pressure felt heavenly on her desperate clit. She rode his boot frantically, getting closer and closer…

Then he pulled it away.

"No," he said simply.

Ava let out a broken sob, collapsing forward and kissing his boots frantically.

"Please! I was so close… I’m losing my mind, Sir. I need to cum so badly. I’ll stay denied for weeks if you want, just let me have one tonight. Please… I’m nothing without your permission. I’m your boot-licking, denied fucktoy…"

He reached down, grabbed her hair, and forced her face back down to his boots.

"Keep licking. Maybe if you make them shine perfectly with your tongue, I’ll think about it. Or maybe I’ll just edge you on my boot again and leave you denied for another week."

Ava whimpered miserably and continued worshipping his boots, her body trembling with need and humiliation.

[ The Prelude ]

[ The "Catch" ]

Heather and Mr. E directed me to get showered (again) and get dressed - Heather steamed my skirt and blouse, so I didn't look like I was wearing wrinkled clothes from a pile on the floor.

"Welcome to the team," said Mr. E as I emerged, refreshed and "normal" looking from the shower. "Heather will help you get settled. If you need anything, you're her direct report, so everything goes through her - unless you have a problem with her, of course, then you come to me."

"Thank you, Sir!" I replied happily, and shook his extended hand. "It was truly a pleasure to meet you both," I added with a wry grin.

He chuckled a little at that - "yeah, I feel the same way - you're a natural; you picked up on cues really well, and I think you'll excel here. I look forward to your annual performance reviews," and he opened the door.

As Heather and I left I was reminded of the last person to leave through this door - I wonder what her experience was like? Was she prudish, and couldn't embrace being a sub? What had upset it her so much?

All I knew for certain was that my "audition" was the most powerful sexual experience of my life - and I couldn't wait to get started.

As we walked, Heather explained some ground rules. "You'll never know anyone's real name, except mine, of course. You'll have your own office-slash-studio, where you'll film all your episodes. No activity outside your studio," she said with stern emphasis. "Breaking that one is breach of contract and you're dismissed immediately. No 'warning,' just gone... got it?"

"Yes, of course," I answered, nodding emphatically.

"Good," she continued. "You won't even know the company name. Hell they don't even tell me and I'm the ring leader of this little circus. There's an HR department and Payroll, a gym, etc.. on eight - the eighth floor - for another company that actually shows up on your paychecks. All of your 'company-related' business happens there." She pressed the call button for the elevator. "Is there anything you need? There's a 20k hiring bonus that we can get expedited if things are ... tight," she said, licking her lip just a tiny bit. She gestured for me to enter the elevator first, and beamed that radiant smile at me again.

She's so damned gorgeous...

After I stepped into the elevator I started to turn but suddenly she had me by the elbows, and was guiding me to the back corner, holding me there as she snaked one arm around mine, pinning them behind my back. I "oofed" a bit as my tits mashed against the mirrored back. With her other hand, she pulled my ponytail hard, raising my chin high and eliciting a sharp gasp. I was beginning to understand why she had done it so high on my head... it made a surprisingly effective handle.

The doors slid silently shut behind us. "One unwritten exception to the 'no activity' rule: you belong to me. I take you where and when and how I want to, and you obey my every whim like the horny little cum-hungry slut you are. I like being the Mistress and I just love abusing little slutslaves like yourself." She yanked harder on the pony, pressing me against the mirrors, eyes locked onto mine. "Am I clear?"

"AHH! Yes, Mistress."

"Any objections?" another hard yank. "One word from me and you're gone."

"Ugnh...." more arousal than pain. "No, Mistress," as I gyrated my ass back against her.

"Great!" she released me like nothing had happened and went to the control panel. "Which floor?"

"I'm... I'm parked on B3 please, Mistress," I whispered. As she pressed the button I noticed that my nipples ached and I was wet again. Holy shit what's happening to me...

"So what day can you start?" she said, not even turning to face me, inspecting her fingernails.

"Two weeks please, Mistress? I have to give notice... at my... other jobs."

There was a long pause until the elevator dinged on my floor.

"Two weeks is absolutely fine," she said, "but you will not orgasm again until I permit it - no self-pleasure at all. See you in two weeks - Tuesday the third, at 10am." She stepped aside as the doors opened. "Have a great day, it was wonderful to meet you."

She spanked my ass lightly as I walked by, and then the doors closed behind me, and I was alone in the semi-dark of the garage.

What the... fuck had just happened....?

Two weeks, no orgasms? No self-pleasure AT ALL? After that experience? But I already knew I would obey... it would be torment, but I would do it anyway, because Mistress had commanded it. I was already thinking about our reunion, about the orgasm she would might me after two weeks of abstinence...

The next two weeks is gonna be a special kind of hell.

The underground parking garage was dimly lit and mostly empty at this hour, but not completely. A few cars were still parked on the far side, and occasional headlights swept across the concrete as people left the nearby office building.

Emma was already shaking as he yanked the passenger door open.

“Out,” he ordered.

She hesitated for half a second. That was all it took.

He grabbed a fistful of her long hair and dragged her out of the car, forcing her down onto her hands and knees on the cold, dirty concrete. Her short dress had already been pulled up around her waist in the car, and she wasn’t wearing panties.

“Sir, please… not here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “People might see”

“Shut the fuck up.” He brought his palm down hard on her bare ass, the sharp slap echoing through the garage. “You wanted to be my filthy little slut. Now crawl.”

Emma’s face burned with shame as she started moving forward on all fours. Her knees scraped against the rough concrete with every movement. The position forced her ass high in the air, her soaked pussy completely exposed.

He walked beside her, holding her leash attached to the thick collar around her neck. Every few steps he gave it a sharp tug, making her stumble.

“Look at you,” he sneered loudly. “Crawling like a bitch in heat through a public parking lot. Your cunt is dripping down your thighs. Disgusting.”

A car turned the corner ahead of them. Emma froze, but he kicked her ass with his shoe, forcing her to keep crawling.

“Don’t you dare stop. Let them see what a pathetic whore you are.”

The car slowed. The driver stared openly as Emma crawled past, tits nearly spilling out of her low-cut dress, ass and pussy on full display. She whimpered in humiliation but kept moving.

“Please, Sir… I’m begging you,” she pleaded, her voice cracking. “Can I please walk now? I’ll be good. I’ll suck your cock right here if you want, just let me stand up”

He laughed cruelly and slapped her ass again, harder this time.

“You’ll suck my cock when I tell you to. Right now you’re going to crawl all the way to the elevator like the worthless fuckpet you are.”

Tears of shame pricked her eyes as she continued crawling. Her knees were red and raw. Another car passed, and this time she heard someone whistle.

When they finally reached the elevator bay, he shoved her roughly against the concrete wall, pinning her there with his body. His hand went straight between her legs, roughly shoving two thick fingers into her dripping pussy.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he growled in her ear. “You love being degraded in public, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir,” she sobbed, hips grinding desperately against his hand. “Please… I need to cum. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.”

He pulled his fingers out and slapped her pussy hard, making her cry out.

“You don’t cum until I’ve fucked you raw in the elevator and made you lick your mess off the floor. Now spread your legs wider and keep begging. Louder.”

Emma obeyed, spreading her knees on the dirty floor, ass pushed out toward anyone who might walk by.

“Please use your dirty slut, Sir… Please fuck me rough. I’m nothing but a crawling whore for you…”

Daddy has been very busy lately with work and has had long hours. I miss him a lot, but more importantly, my pussy misses the attention. Luckily, when he is busy with work, he makes sure to text me throughout the day. He gives me various tasks and reminders of my place.

Today, when I was at work, he ordered me to go to the bathroom and show him the holes he owns. I pushed my scrubs out of the way and took pictures for him. He replied, “God, how I wish I could abuse you today”. I blushed reading his message and replied: “Me too, Daddy. I crave it so much”. I didn’t hear anything back, so I went on throughout my day without thinking much of it.

He texts me when I am about to clock out and says, “Go home immediately, shower, and prepare yourself. I will send you an address for you to meet my friend at”. I read the words on my phone over again as my heart raced. Daddy has done this before. He will send me to one of his ‘friends’ for a few hours and have them film everything they do to me. Then Daddy can be happily at work knowing his slave is being put to good use and has personal porn being made for him.

I replied, “Yes, Daddy, which friend?” I tried to take some deep breaths to calm myself, but I already felt myself throbbing.

The words flashed on my screen, “You are going to serve Sir Damon. You need to be punished for not taking care of my cock well enough lately. I have high expectations of you, and you will live up to them. No more questions, drive safe.”

Oh my gosh. I've only ever heard Daddy talk about his friend Damon before. He is extremely sadistic and a huge ass hole. I grip the steering wheel harder as I rush home. I get ready quickly and hear my phone ding with an address about 10 minutes from me.

When I get there, I text the unknown number I was given and wait for instructions.

“Knock on the door lightly, take off your clothes, and kneel on the carpet.” I felt my whole body tense up, and I started making up scenarios of how this is going to go. I catch myself from spiraling and just start walking to the front door. I do as I’m told and hear the door unlock. I let myself into a dark entryway and begin stripping. I try to look around to see if I spot him, but it is too dark.

I wait, kneeling naked in a stranger's home with no idea of what is going to happen. My hands rest on my thighs, and I try to maintain my steady breathing and calm myself. I see a tall shadow emerge from the hall.

“Hello, slave, nice to finally meet you,” a deep voice booms over me. He walks behind me, wraps his fingers in my hair, and tilts my head back so I am forced to look at him. “Nice to meet you, Sir,” I reply quietly.

He wraps a leash around my neck and, without warning, starts walking forward, so I am forced to crawl. I try to stumble after him quickly into his bedroom at the end of the hall. We stop, and I return to my kneeling position, waiting for instruction.

“Your Daddy told me that you’ve been tired during the day at work since you have been staying up late. He also told me that you forgot to service him when he came home for work a few days this week. I am here to correct that.”

He moves around the room, grabbing things and opening and closing drawers. He puts a blindfold on me, and I hear him unzip his pants in front of me. My mind relaxes slightly, knowing I can just be in the moment and do my job. I begin bobbing up and down. As he gets harder, I realize how long his dick is and how much of a challenge this will be. He grabs my head with both his hands and relentlessly throat fucks me. I begin to gag, but that doesn’t stop him. He keeps going and holds me down on his cock until I'm doing everything in my power not to push him back. He finally pulls out, and I’m gasping for air.

He kneels in front of me and massages my tits slightly before I feel a sharp sting from a hard slap. He starts wrapping rope around each boob over and over, tighter and tighter. He makes it into a makeshift rope bra and harness. I can feel the fullness of my breasts, and they start to ache. His large palms cover them easily as he starts manhandling me. Hard slaps one after the other land on me. I hear the sound of my phone start recording, and I know Daddy will watch happily.

I begin to wince and whimper with each slap, and it’s hard not to pull back. Sir walks behind me and puts his leg right behind me and pushes forward, so I am forced to have a good posture. He leans forward and continues his assault on my tits with nowhere for me to escape. He abruptly stops and pulls my hair, so I am forced to stand. He drags me into his bathroom, “kneel whore.” He says once I feel cool tile under me. I kneel in what I assume is his shower, and she throat fucks me again. Nonstop, deep, and hard. I'm gagging and feel my stomach turn, and I can’t help but puke over his dick. My face turns beet red at the embarrassment, but that doesn’t stop him. He continues until I’m puking over and over, and my entire stomach is empty.

Finally, he pulls out, and I gasp over and over, crying. I feel my own grime all over me and want to crawl out of my skin. He turns on the cold shower, “clean yourself quickly,” he orders. I stand up shivering, trying to wash off what I can without being able to see. The shower is abruptly turned off, and again, my hair is being used as a leash. He drags me back into his bedroom, dripping cold and wet.

“Lie on the bed, ass up, hands out in front of you. Do not move or there will be consequences”. I do as I'm told and lie there waiting for what could possibly happen. I feel some light spanking that gets increasingly harder. I could do this all day. I love a good spanking. I hear a bottle of lube opening, and my heart drops. He runs his hands up and down my slit and pushes a finger in. I sigh with pleasure as I try to hump his finger. He slaps me hard. “I told you not to move”. His finger pulls out and then slowly circles my asshole. He pushes in, and I try not to fight it. The fullness is overwhelming, and his fingers are fairly large. He pushes another in, and I gasp in pain.

“Bad girls get anal,” he said as he pulled his fingers out, and I felt the tip of his cock trying to push his way in. I grip my hands together and try to brace myself. He pushed all the way in slowly and held himself there for a few seconds. The pain is searing, and I grunt. He pulls all the out again and repeats. Then he really lays into me, he fucks my ass like he did my throat. With no care in the world for the person behind it. I am just a set of holes for my Daddy and his friends to use for their entertainment.

He doesn’t stop for what feels like an eternity. I do my best and try to take the pain and embarrassment, but I end up trying to crawl forward and away from his assault.

“What the fuck are you doing?” his voice is angry and annoyed as his dick slips out.

He yanks my hair back and flips me around so I’m on my back. He pushes my legs up so they are my knees and slams back into my ass. The pain is searing, and I have nowhere to go but take it. I feel a tear run down my face under my mask. He pulls out and assaults my purple tits. I can feel the unnatural position they are in, but luckily, they have gone slightly numb, so I can’t feel it as much.

I hear the lube again, and he starts finger me with two, then three fingers. He twists them around so they are stretching me out and adds another finger. I win, and he flat-out slaps me hard across the face like a bitch. I am stunned, and he continues his assault on my pussy.

“I’m going to fist your pussy slave. You are going to take it,” he says flatly. I feel his thumb start to push in. It’s like a ring of fire in my pussy, and my mind starts to go blank. I have no escape but to just endure.

I feel him push and push until I give in, and his thumb slips in. I moan and groan but don’t dare to move. I am crying at this point. “Shut up whore. I know you like this. You are soaking wet.”

I can’t deny what my body is doing. My clit is throbbing as the pain melts into pleasure.

He pulls his hand out, and my chest heaves as I try to catch my breath. He thrusts his cock in me deep.

“Ahhhhh,” I can’t help but cry out. My ass and pussy are both torn up, and I can’t do anything about it. He pumps into me hard and fast while raining down blows on my tits.

I feel my cervix being bruised and can’t help but clench on his cock, trying to milk any pleasure I can. He cums deep in me before I can catch up. He pushes a pussy plug straight into me after he pulls out. Trapping his cum inside.

“Hurry home and show Daddy what a mess we made”. My tits stay tied, and I shakily get dressed quickly and drive home.

Daddy watches all the videos Sir Damon sent while he fucks his cum filled pussy. He cums quickly as I’m begging for release. I don’t get it as I’m sent into the shower and ordered to go to bed early. I can’t be tired at work tomorrow again.

Part 1

---

“Hmm…I should probably fuck you. Yeah, I definitely need to fuck you right now.”

Olivia didn’t hear me talking to myself because she had her AirPods in. She was on a Zoom call, but her camera was off and she was muted. It was one of the many pointless calls she was forced to attend so that the middle-managers could pretend like they did actual, productive work instead of wasting everyone’s time with performative meetings.

So I knew it wouldn’t cause her too much strife when I grabbed the back of her computer chair, spun her around to face me–and my bulging erection, pressing hard against my boxer briefs–and told her to turn around.

Her eyes went from glazed over to wide as she looked from my cock to my face in slight confusion. The whole freeuse thing was still a bit new and I was still working out the parameters, seeing where–if anywhere–she wanted to establish limits. So far, the answer was a resounding nowhere.

“Where do you want–?”

I cut her off, answering her question by grabbing her hips, lifting her out of the chair and positioning her against the desk. She was leaning over it–yoga shorts-clad ass pressing against my pulsing hard on. I thumbed the hem of my boxers, letting my erection bounce against Olivia’s perfect fucking ass.

God.

That ass.

Sometimes I just want to tear whatever fucking item of clothing she’s wearing off and smack her tanned ass cheeks so fucking hard that she yelps. Actually, I have done that before. And fuck does it make her turn her thighs into a fucking floodplain. So, yeah. I shoved her yoga pants down, rolling the stretchy neon pink fabric to just below the bottom curve of her cheeks. Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t wearing any panties.

Tsk tsk tsk.

Let’s call that a green light to give it to her fucking hard.

I palmed one plump orb of fucking heaven, warming it up. She looked over her should, watching my hand, squeezing her thighs together in anticipation, and then looked at her computer screen, double-checking that she was on mute.

Hand back and–

THWACK

“Mmf!” she tried to hold her whiny moan in.

My cock was between her legs now, and it pulsed upwards when I spanked her, the swollen tip gently grazing her pussy. I rubbed the sore spot, moving my hips slightly forward, so that my crown was pushing right against her entrance. I could feel her lips enveloping just that first little slope of my cockhead. She looked back at me–AirPods still in–and wordlessly moved her hips, her vulva pushing my cock up slightly, inviting me inside.

Not yet.

SMACK

Her ass fucking rippling from the force.

“You have no idea how hard I’m going to fuck you.” I don’t think she could hear me. She was gripping the side of the desk, looking over her shoulder at me as she bounced her hips like a fucking slut. I could feel her warm wetness starting to coat the crest of my cock. Both hands on her waist, squeezing as I pushed against her, shoving myself inside, but so…fucking…slowly.

I was teasing her, sliding in a fucking millimeter at a time. She looked at me, her icy blue eyes flickering with what appeared to be annoyance. And then she said, “God, will you please just fucking–FUCK--me right now.”

THA-WACK

And so I did. Another hard spank and then my hand shooting up to her messy ponytail, pushing her into the desk as I finally filled her pussy with my bulging slab of pure, unadulterated testosterone. Her empty coffee mug–World’s Cutest Face–shook against the IKEA-brand particle board. Her keyboard jiggled, the keys clacking as I squished my testicles against her soaking labia.

I ran a hand around her waist, slid it over her belly button, down to her mound. Dipped my fingers along her spread lips, gathering wetness before retreating to her clit. I rubbed small, but aggressive circles while I pounded her. Railed her. Fucking owned her. Her pussy. Her Ass. Her fucking clit were mine. And I didn’t want her to just know it. I wanted her to feel it.

And she was fucking feeling it. She was bucking her hips against me every time I drew backwards, keeping my cock firmly entrenched in her tight fucking pussy. She jiggled her ass, bounced it against me, demanding that I keep 100% of my attention of absolutely drubbing her.

My thighs flexed. I leaned forward, towering over her small frame as I did my damnedest to ensure that she’d feel my absence as soon as I slipped out of her pussy.

SMACK

I grabbed her ass cheek and spread it, exposing her tight little asshole. I spit. Started to rub my thumb against that opening while my other hand kept working her clit. I slipped slowly inside, just enough to make her feel even more full.

“How’s that, huh? You fucking slut. Gonna cum for me?”

“Mm, mm,” I don’t think she could hear me. Someone droning on about fucking Excel in her ears. “I’m–I’m–I’m gonna cum on your–fuck–cock.”

Her entire body shivered. She squeezed her legs together tightly, which only served to push me over the edge. I shoved forward, sack against her soaking cunt, and exploded. Throbbing. Rope after fucking rope of cum. Painting that fucking pussy. Her inner walls striated with my dripping semen.

We both breathed heavily. My thrusting started to slow. I felt cum start to trickle backwards, running towards her thighs. I moved my hands, grabbing her hips, rubbing her red ass, and then finally back away.

She stayed leaning over the desk, catching her breath. She reached up, pulling one earbud out. “I, whew, fuck, I think, I think that was one of the actually important meetings.”

I chuckled, “Nothing’s more important than getting fucked, babe..." I paused, thinking, "Except for...maybe spreadsheets.”

Title: I 21F begged my Dom to punish me like the desperate slut I am [Bondage] [Spanking] [Degradation] [Forced Orgasms]

I 21F have been craving something intense for weeks. Last night I texted my Dom that I needed to be reminded of my place. He told me to come over wearing only a long coat and heels. The second I stepped inside he took the coat off and left me standing naked and nervous in his living room.

He tied my wrists to a hook hanging from the ceiling so my arms were stretched high above my head. Then he spread my legs with a bar and secured them so I couldn’t close them no matter how much I squirmed. I was completely helpless and already dripping down my thighs.

He started with his belt. The first few lashes across my ass were almost gentle, but they quickly became harder. Each strike made me cry out and pull against the ropes. My ass and the back of my thighs were burning red when he stopped to shove two fingers deep inside me.

“Pathetic,” he laughed. “You’re soaked from being whipped like a cheap whore.” The words stung but made my pussy clench around his fingers. He added a third finger and fingered me roughly while telling me how obvious it was that I needed to be used and broken.

He clamped my nipples with heavy metal clamps and attached a chain between them. Every time I moved the chain pulled and sent sharp pain through my breasts. Then he took a flogger to my tits, my stomach, and my spread-open pussy. The leather strands kept landing right on my swollen clit until I was shaking and begging.

He finally untied my legs, bent me over the couch with my arms still bound above me, and fucked me hard from behind. Every thrust slammed against my sore ass and made the nipple clamps tug painfully. He reached around and rubbed my clit fast and rough, forcing me to cum while he called me his stupid little cumslut.

I came so hard my legs gave out, but he held me up and kept fucking me through it. He didn’t stop. He made me cum again and again until I was sobbing and drooling, completely overwhelmed. Only then did he pull out, spin me around, and shove his cock down my throat. He fucked my face until he came, filling my mouth and making me swallow every drop.

Afterwards he left me tied to the hook for a while, cum on my chin, nipples bruised, ass marked, and pussy throbbing. I felt completely used, owned, and satisfied in a way nothing else gives me.

I’m still sore today and every time I sit down I get wet again remembering how helpless and filthy I felt. I already want him to destroy me even harder next time.

I 19F have always looked innocent on the outside but deep down I have been craving to be controlled and used. My older neighbor has been flirting with me for months and last week I finally broke. I went over to his apartment one evening wearing a short skirt and a thin top with nothing underneath. I told him straight up that I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to me.

He didnt hesitate. He pulled me inside, locked the door, and immediately pushed me against the wall. He stripped me completely naked and tied my wrists tightly behind my back with a thick rope he keeps in his bedroom. Then he made me kneel in front of him while he inspected every inch of my body. He slapped my tits and pinched my nipples until I was whimpering. When he slid his fingers between my legs he laughed at how dripping wet I already was.

He bent me over his couch and spanked my ass hard until it was bright red and burning. Every slap made me moan louder and my pussy wetter. After my ass was throbbing he tied my ankles together and fucked my mouth while I was still bent over. I gagged and drooled all over his thick cock while he called me his eager little whore.

Then he carried me to his bed, spread my legs wide, and tied them open so I was completely exposed and helpless. He teased my clit with his tongue and fingers, edging me over and over again. Every time I got close he stopped and slapped my pussy lightly, making me beg louder each time. I was shaking and desperate when he finally pushed his cock inside me.

He fucked me so hard while I was completely tied up. The ropes dug into my skin and the harder he thrust the more I moaned like a slut. He choked me lightly and told me I existed only for his pleasure. I came harder than I ever have in my life, my whole body convulsing around him.

He flipped me onto my stomach, ass up, and fucked me even deeper while pulling my hair. When he was ready he pulled out and came all over my reddened ass and back. I lay there tied up, covered in his cum, feeling completely used and satisfied.

He left me like that for a while so I could feel how helpless I was. When he finally untied me my wrists and ankles had pretty marks and my legs were shaky. I loved every second of it.

I cant stop thinking about it. I already want to go back and let him push me even further next time. Being tied up and treated like his personal fucktoy feels better than anything I have ever experienced.

I’m 21 and I’ve been collared by my Dom for six months. Last weekend he decided it was time for my most intense training yet. From Friday night until Sunday evening I was not allowed to speak unless addressed as “pet,” and I was not allowed to cum without permission.

He started by putting me in full leather restraints the moment I arrived. Thick cuffs on my wrists and ankles, connected to a heavy collar. My nipples were clamped with a chain running between them. Then he locked a steel chastity belt on me — the kind with a thick plug in my ass and a vibrator pressed hard against my clit, both controlled by his phone.

For two days I was his 24/7 toy.

He made me crawl everywhere. I followed him around the apartment on my hands and knees, the plugs shifting inside me with every movement, drooling around the gag he kept in my mouth most of the time. Every time I got too close to the edge from the vibrations he would simply turn them off and laugh at how I whimpered and humped the air like a desperate bitch in heat.

Saturday morning he tied me in a strict hogtie on the coffee table, ass up, and invited his close friend over. They used me together for hours. One fucked my throat while the other flogged my ass and thighs bright red. They took turns switching between my mouth, my pussy (once the belt came off), and my ass. I was double penetrated multiple times while they discussed how tight and sloppy their little pet was getting.

The denial was the worst part. Every time I begged with my eyes he would edge me harder — fucking me mercilessly, then stopping right before I could cum. By Sunday afternoon I was a shaking, tear-stained mess, covered in marks, drool, and their cum.

The final scene broke me beautifully.

He put me on my back in the bed, legs spread wide and chained to the corners. The vibrator went back on my clit at maximum while he fucked my ass deep and hard. His friend used my tits and throat. I was crying, begging, promising to be the best fuckpet ever if he would just let me cum.

When he finally gave permission I came so violently I squirted all over his cock and soaked the sheets. He kept fucking me through it until he pumped his load deep in my ass. His friend finished on my face.

Afterwards he wrapped me in a blanket, removed all the restraints, and held me while I sobbed from the overwhelming release. I’ve never felt more owned, more used, or more satisfied in my life.

I’m already counting down the days until he locks me up again next weekend.

(Chapter 3: Walkies)

As she is led from the cell she had woken in, metal collar securely linked to her huge captor's belt by six feet of chain, Sarah finds herself struggling to keep up.

The giant who has stolen her away from her life has such long strides that even just walking he sets a swift pace.

Sarah reaches up and uses both hands to grip the chain linking her to him in an attempt to lessen the pressure on the back of her neck as she hurries along in his wake.

Her mind races furiously as she tries to come to terms with the position she now finds herself in.

The terror still hangs heavy on her shoulders, but she is clinging desperately to the hope that, if she just pretends to play along with his wishes, he will let his guard down.

As he had chased her through the dark woods last night she felt sure she would be killed, but it's clear now that he had been playing with her. Or perhaps herding her would be the more accurate term. Expertly using the rifle as a means to direct her flight, not harm her, until she eventually stumbled upon Chloe who had lain in wait to ambush her.

Chloe.

Her old friend, thought dead these past three years, had actually been his captive.

But, strangely, as she considers this fact again it actually bolsters Sarahs hopes somewhat as she is tugged along behind the big man, going God knows where.

Despite being his prisoner for all that time, Chloe did not look... damaged. In fact, she looks better than she ever had. Her small pale frame has lost the gaunt, almost skeletal thinness that Sarah remembered and her alabaster skin was bare of any scars or signs of obvious physical mistreatment. Even her beautiful red hair now looks silky smooth and well cared for, a far cry from the mess she would often leave it in before her capture.

In short, the big man had clearly taken care of her.

So surely he would do the same for Sarah, provided she played along, right? Sooner or later he WOULD let his guard down and she would get her chance to escape this place. How hard could it be?

She knows she would be foolish to try and guess the thoughts of an obvious mad man, but even so, she feels sure she knows why she had been taken. He wanted her for the same reason all the boys did. She had sensed the hunger in those steely eyes as she had stripped under their cool gaze. Maybe... Maybe that is where he is taking her now? To... satisfy his needs.

She gives another shudder of apprehension before burying the thought deep. She had to focus. She had to be smart!

If that was where they were heading then she would deal with it. After all, it wouldn't be the first time she had parted her legs for someone she didnt desire. Although it had never before been accompanied by the barely suppressed terror that she feels now.

But Sarah is and has always been a people pleaser or, more specifically, she is a MAN pleaser. It always gives her a sense of satisfaction to fulfill their desires, even placing her own desperate needs second to theirs, allowing them to sate their urges upon her willing, supple body.

Despite herself a small, wicked part of her has even begun to wonder what her captor might be packing in those big trousers of his, although the thought illicits disgust at her own mind, as well as a strange sense of deja vu, despite not knowing why.

In short, Sarah is already beginning to feel a little more confident in her new situation. The terror and despair have not left of course, but she manages to put them aside, at least for now. She is prepared to do whatever it takes to make him think she is his devoted little slut like Chloe and, once he has let his guard down, she would find a way to escape this place and bring the full weight of the law down upon him.

She smiles at this and a new found strength grips her, banishing the fear and worry for a time. If she couldn't manipulate her way to freedom then she isnt the man pleaser she knows herself to be.

She is jolted sharply from her thoughts when the big man stops at a door and she nearly walks smack into his back.

She steps away quickly and looks around her.

She had been so deep in thought that she hadnt taken much notice of her surroundings.

From the cell, she had been vaguely aware of being led down a long corridor and up a set of stairs, the faint sound of Chloe's weeping falling away behind them.

Now, having reached the end of the passageway the big man unlocks the door and leads her through.

The space beyond is another corridor, but unlike the one they had just left, this one is wide and rather roomy, and Sarah is suprised to see a multitude of different mats and rugs covering the floor as a sort of makeshift carpet. The room is lined with three doors on either side and another, much larger door at the far end directly opposite the one they have just entered through

But it is the decorations that catch Sarahs eye and nearly make her jaw drop. The walls are hung with assorted pictures, paintings and sketches, all featuring the same theme; young women in various forms of bondage. There are even a couple of small tables whose only obvious purpose is to display similarly themed sculptures upon their otherwise bare surfaces.

"Welcome, to The Bunker, girl. Your new home." The big man says, turning to her.

Sarah takes a step back as his attention falls upon her, but she forces a weak smile onto her lips.

"It's very... Nice, Master. Very..." She pauses, desperately trying to find an appropriate sounding word before settling on; "Homely."

The big man raises an eyebrow and stares at her for several long seconds, his hard, craggy features unreadable.

Sarah begins to feel slightly uncomfortable, afraid she had over played her hand, but at last he gives a snort and turns away... and... had there been the merest hint of a smile on his lips? She is not certain, but thinks there was. Was he falling for her act already?

As his back turns she allows a small smile to crease her own lips. This was going to be easy.

Gaining a little courage, she decides to grease the wheels of her plan, believing that she can chance pushing her luck. She gives a loud theatrical sniff of herself before curling up her face in disgust.

"Master, may I... Please make a request?" She asks timidly, carefully pitching her "Please Daddy" voice.

The big man had been about to walk on when Sarah speaks, but instead he turns and looks down at her, a strange expression on his face as his eyes meet hers.

Its only then that Sarah notices something about the big man. Something that surprises her and gives her pause.

Sarah is very attractive and she knows that. Although she has always tried to be humble about it and not let it go to her head, she knows she is one of the lucky ones; a winner in life's genetic lottery. So was Chloe, although somehow the poor wretch had never been able to see it herself.

So in her life Sarah has gotten very used to male attention, and more specifically where it is nearly always directed; tits or ass. Of course, the more polite ones usually at least TRY to maintain eye contact but they all fail eventually and let their eyes flick downwards for just a second.

But not Him.

When she had first stripped for him, his gaze had wandered up and down her multiple times, his steely eyes taking in every inch of bare skin as it was revealed. But since then, every time he looked at her, his eyes have never left hers.

Having noticed the fact, she finds it... oddly unnerving.

Now, as his cool stare pins her, she finds herself beginning to wilt under the intensity of his gaze.

"You may." He says in response to her question, his face as unreadable as ever.

"Er.. Thank you... Er... Master. I... Er..." She hesitates, feeling her former confidence begin to bleed away.

Focus, Sarah! Come on! You can do this. So hes not looking? Then give him a reason to look! Use your charms on him.

She takes a calming breath and collects her thoughts for a moment.

"Girl, do you have a request or not? I dont have all morning to waste standing here waiting for you to string a sentence together." The big man growls with the first hint of irritation entering his voice.

"Im sorry Master. Yes, I do, thank you. I was wondering if I could please have a shower? I... I wet myself earlier, Im sorry. I was silly and got scared." She says, slowly gaining confidence as she goes and returning to her "Daddies little girl" voice. "Its just... you scared me so much last night, I didnt understand. I thought you wanted to kill me, so when I woke up I... peed on the bed. I was so scared, Master. But i understand better now. You dont want to hurt me. You just want to make me yours. But id be much more appealing to you if I was clean, Master. Maybe you could even... wash me yourself, if you wanted to?"

On a roll once more, she flashes him an angelic smile, attempting to broadcast that she is just a silly little girl who has learned her lesson and now just wants to make Daddy happy.

His stare seems to last an eternity before he finally speaks, and when he does, Sarah's confidence only grows.

"I am glad to hear you understand, girl. As for wetting the bed, i can be forgiving and will let you off this once, but do it again and I will have to punish you." He says sternly and Sarah cannot help the shiver of fear his words send through her. "As to your request; yes, I think I can allow you a little luxury since you have been such a Good Girl. After i have taken you for your walk we will get you cleaned up."

With that he turns and stomps towards the door at the far end of the hall and, forgetting herself for a moment, Sarah is suddenly yanked along after him as the collar chain goes taut.

But as she follows behind, Sarah feels that she had made the right decision. Obviously she doesnt want his hands anywhere near her. Definately not. Those big hands with their oh so thick fingers...

She shakes her head and tries to focus.

The point is, she doesnt want to feel his touch, but she intends to make damn sure that HE enjoys it. If she could get him to lather her up, giving him an opportunity to feel the goodies, then he would be as good as wrapped around her little finger.

A part of her shudders at the idea of giving her body away in such a fashion but another, a deeper and more cynical part, laughs at the very idea that this was any different than how she normally behaved.

***

As the sounds of her beloved Master's foot steps fade away into the distance, back in her old bedroom once more, Chloe releases all the tears that have been building up in her for some time.

This is it. The beginning of the end of her perfect life.

She knew it would come eventually. She always had. Ever since He had rescued her from her pathetic former life, she had feared this days inevitable arrival.

She had been nothing until she met him. Merely an ugly, useless waste of skin and bone. She was pitied and looked down on by everyone. She would probably have been a virgin too if it weren't for the guys that had been nice enough to offer her a pity fuck. But she hadnt even deserved that, she knew.

Chloe had been nearing the limits of her endurance for the meaningless, unasked for existence that had been thrust upon her.

But then He had arrived and, in His infinite generosity, allowed her into His World.

She had not looked back since. In service to her Master, Chloe had found purpose and fulfilment that she had never dreamed possible. And she loved Him for it. Adored Him. Worshipped Him.

She knew a man such as He could never love a creature like her, even after all the wonderful transformations He had wrought upon her, but He had nevertheless graciously allowed her to reside in His World alongside Him.

In return, the only thing thing of any worth she could offer was being His Good Girl... And so she had been.

Until now.

Unable to ever see a flaw in her Master, Chloe knows there is only one person to blame for her woes.

Sarah.

This was all HER fault.

Little Miss Perfect herself.

She grits her teeth and bites back the tears, allowing the relief of anger to burn away the hopelessness.

Chloe was not going to go down without a fight. She had never liked confrontation in her old life, but if Sarah thinks she can just waltz in and steal her Master from her, she will find that it isnt going to be as easy as she thought.

With little else but time available to her right now, Chloe begins to make plans.

***

The giant stops at the door and unlocks it with the big bunch of keys he keeps in his trouser pocket. Given the large number of keys upon it Sarah wonders how there can be so many damn locks in the place.

As he deals with the door, Sarah takes note of the rack beside it hung with several large coats, all clearly belonging to him. Below, arranged neatly in size order are pairs of his boots and shoes, each immaculately clean and shining, with one space in their ranks clearly intended for the pair he currently has on.

This must be the door leading outside...

When he proceeds to yank the thing open Sarah gives an involuntary gasp as cold air hits her like a hammer blow. She instinctively attempts to move away from the inrushing breeze, but does not get far before the chain pulls taut once more.

Ignoring her obvious discomfort the giant steps outside and grabs the chain briefly, using it to pull her to him so he can shut the door behind them.

With that done he lets the chain fall from his grip and he begins to walk, now with a slower more relaxed pace.

Shivering already, arms wrapped around herself for the feeble warmth it offers, and with no other choice, Sarah follows.

She looks around her as she is led away from the comforting warmth of his Bunker.

The door they had exited through is set into a large concrete wall that extends out from an unnaturally perfect hill. The exterior of the door is old and rusted and everything has a rundown look about it, unlike the well kept interior.

The hill is surrounded on all sides by dense looking forest with only a small ring of open grassland extending out around its base and a single mud road leading away into the woodland.

Where in the fuck IS she?

As she gazes around her in fear and bewilderment, the cold gnawing into her insistantly, Sarahs earlier confidence fades once again.

She walks along silently, reasurring herself that it didnt matter. There would be a way out.

Nothing has changed, she would just have to do a little work to learn where she is and all she can of the surrounding area. She felt sure she could find a way to loosen his tongue one way or the other.

When her captor halts midstride Sarah does the same, standing and shivering as he calmly pulls out a packet of cigars and slips one between his lips. Only after lighting it with a match inside cupped hands does he continue his walk.

For a few minutes he simply walks casually along the footpath bordering the Hill, blowing an occasional puff of smoke into the air like a man with not a care in the world.

By now, Sarah has begun to slowly acclimatise to the cool air, although it is still far from comfortable. But the freezing cold earth of the path is less easy to adapt to so instead she had begun to walk along the grass to one side.

She nearly jumps in surprise when he speaks at last, his deep, rumbling voice breaking the silence that had hung between them for nearly ten minutes.

"So, what is it you understand, girl?" He asks over his shoulder.

Confused, Sarah takes a moment before responding, her teeth chattering as she does so.

"W... What.. m... m.. Master?" She asks, not understanding.

The giant halts before turning to her and Sarah freezes in place, immobilised by his suddenly penetrating gaze.

"Back in The Bunker, you told me you WERE scared, but now you understand. So tell me, what is it you understand?" He asks patiently,

"Oh... y... yeah, er... w.. well, Master. I erm... I underssssstand that you just want me to be a g...g... good girl for you. Er... Massster."

The giant gives an exaggerated look of sudden understanding.

"Ahhhh! I see. Of course. Of course. Just checking. So you are ok with that? Being my good girl i mean." He asks before calmly taking another puff on the cigar, his eyes still never leaving hers.

Sarah pauses, her thoughts suddenly racing.

How should she answer? Should she say she wants to go home, or go all in? After a few seconds of frantic thought she decides on a little of both.

"W...well Master, I do want to go home, but I sssee that itsss not an...n.. option anymore. Im not ssstupid, I dont want you to hurt m... me, so I will b... be your ggggood girl." She replies.

"Fair enough." He nods. "Well i think ive given you a good enough walk for now, so lets get you cleaned up, shall we? You mentioned earlier that I could wash you if I want? Do you still stand by that?"

Bang. She had him. For all his calm and collected demeanour he still just HAD to touch. He was just like any boy and that fact sees her courage return once more. It is all she can do to keep the cocky smile from her lips.

"Oh y... yes please, mm..m..Master!" She squeaks in feined excitement at the prospect. "I'm ssso dirty, Master. I need you to c... clean m... me."

"Are you sure? I wont be as gentle as you are used to, and if I am to clean you I will have to cuff your hands behind your back again." He says firmly.

Sarahs heart sinks a little at that. She really doesnt want to wear the cuffs again. She hadn't long been free from them. But if he wants her to be his helpless little toy to clean then she could play along.

"Im sure, M...Master, thank you." She says, silently urging him to lead them back inside since her "walk" was done, longing for a return to the warmth of her prison.

The giant shrugs a shoulder before reaching to a belt pouch and pulling out the handcuffs.

"Come here then." He commands.

Sarah remains where she is, confusion once more written upon her face.

"M... master, c...cant you cuff me when we are b...back inside?" She asks desperately, her eyes falling to the cuffs in one huge hand.

"Why would I do that? Now dont make me repeat myself." He barks, one thick finger pointed at the ground in front of him.

Not wanting to anger him Sarah forces down her hatred for the cuffs and steps forward, turning so her back is to him and allowing him to lock the evil things back into place.

When they are on he nods and turns to the path once more, continuing onwards. Not back the way they had come towards the welcome warmth of the bunker, but continuing to follow the trail around the hill.

Sarah wants to call out and ask why they havent turned around, but decides against it choosing to assume there must be more than one way inside.

After another few minutes a small wooden building comes into view from behind the hill. Appearing to be a large shed of sorts, Sarah is suprised when the big man changes to the path leading towards it.

A 6 foot metal pole stands erect outside with several clips hanging from short lengths of chain at various heights. Sarah is led towards it and, gripping her collar, the giant backs her against the thing, reaching up and attaching one of the clips to a hoop on the rear of her collar before releasing the chain that had bound her to him.

"M...Master... what... what are you doing?" She asks as fear and uncertainty begins to bubble up within her.

"Washing you, girl." He says simply before stalking to the large shed and stepping inside.

Sarah had been unable to respond to his answer at first.

She had just begun to feel like she had a grasp of things, but suddenly they seem to be spinning out of her control once more.

"I... I thought you..." she calls out desperately, but is interrupted by the giant as he steps back outside.

Sarahs eyes go wide as she sees the garden hose in his hand.

"I know what you thought, girl. Chances are i know what you think better than you do. You THOUGHT you could manipulate me. No doubt you THOUGHT that if you play the good little slut I would be so overjoyed that I would make a mistake and allow you to escape, yes?" He asks and the words leave Sarah feeling utterly deflated.

She had thought...

"I am not a fool, girl, and I cannot help but feel insulted that you would treat me as such. Did you really believe I would be so easily disarmed by your obvious charms? Chloe, bless her, got one thing right at least; I will not be fawning over you. But you will learn. You WILL see things my way eventually, but do not try to deceive or manipulate me again. They are the actions of a Bad Girl and as such, your cleaning is not a reward, but a punishment."

So saying he triggers the hose.

Sarah screams in shock as the cold water hits her square in the chest. She tries to duck away from its deathly cold touch but, thanks to her collar being locked to the metal pole, she cannot.

She continues to scream as the hose is played up and down her body. With her arms cuffed behind her she cannot do anything to protect herself from its agonising touch so she simply stands and endures as best she can.

The hose cuts off for a moment but its work is already done, her shivers of cold having become constant and overpowering. Sarah cannot recall ever being as cold in all her life.

"Open your legs, girl. I wont ask a second time, I will just put a couple of stakes in the ground either side of you and cuff your ankles to them. If you make me do that then I will leave you out here for a few hours when i am finished." He says, his voice level and firm.

Sarah does not argue and shakily spreads her feet wide to either side before screaming anew as the water starts up once more.

As he continues to hose her down, ignoring her screams, the giant uses his free hand to pluck the cigar from his lips and douse its tip in the spray before tucking it behind an ear.

After a few minutes more, he finally cuts off the spray and returns the hose inside the shed.

Sarah sags against her collar then, nearly choking herself upon it as her legs go weak, all energy seemingly sapped from her body by the hose.

Exiting the shed, holding a large, worn looking towel in one hand, the giant steps over and glares down at her.

"Perhaps you understand a little better now. Oh, and quit with the Master. You havent earned the use of my proper title yet. You will call me Sir." He says as he wraps the towel tightly around her before reaching up and unclipping her collar.

Sarah slumps against him once it is released, but then she feels huge hands grip her hips and in one swift motion she is lifted from her feet and thrown over one wide shoulder, her head hanging behind him as he holds her legs to his chest.

The warmth from his body is like being pressed against a hot water bottle and, coupled with the towel, the relief it offers is so intense that Sarah bends her body further, pressing herself as tightly against him as she can.

"You will learn, girl. You will see. You are in my World now and here there are rules." He says, although the words barely register as Sarah nuzzles herself against him, greedily soaking up as much of his heat as she can.

"But we will get to that soon enough." He says before turning and carrying her back to his Bunker.

Chapter I, Chapter II

Chapter III

“Ok,” Gabby said as they entered the room, “I’ve a ton of work to do and you need it.  Take a quick shower and get back here.”

Jenny followed directions and soon Gabby did her hair and makeup.  Jenny was surprised at how good she looked after Gabby was finished.  “Now, it’s time for the dress.” she said walking to a sheer, see-through dress. 

The dress was gold, beautiful and expensive, but it was also see-through.  She couldn’t go out in this dress.  “Don’t start now,” Gabby stated flatly.  “You know how this goes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jenny said to Gabby.  These were the first words she had spoken to the young beauty.

“Now listen,” Gabby said, “You have an amazing body and this dress will look stunning.”  

Jenny had to do it, so she did.  She walked over and put on the dress.  The dress fit her body perfectly, it had been bought for her.  She looked into the mirror and was at first amazed, then horrified.

Jenny had an amazing body, with generous breasts and a tight round ass.  The dress accentuated every curve of her body, but was so see-through she could clearly see her nipples and pussy. 

“You’re almost ready,” Gabby said as she turned to grab a leather collar off of the dresser.  “Last piece,” she said happily as she fixed the collar around Jenny’s slender neck.  The collar was an inch wide with a ring in the front and a locking back.  Jenny heard the click of the collar locking in place.

“Now,” Gabbie turned serious, “you’re just fuck meat.”

She reached forward and hooked a leash to Jenny’s collar.  She turned and walked away, “Come,” Gabby ordered, pulling on the leash.  Jenny had no choice but to follow.

Gabby led Jenny out the front of the warehouse to a waiting car.  Blake was standing beside the back door. He was wearing an all black tailored suit. 

“There’s my cock sleeve,” he said as Gabby walked up to him and handed him the leash.  Blake looked Jenny up and down several times before nodding his head slightly. “Get in.”

Jenny climbed into the backseat of the limousine, followed closely by Blake.  He ignored her presence the entire drive to the restaurant.  When they arrived Blake took Jenny’s arm and looked her in the eyes.

“You will follow behind me at all times, and when we get to the table, you will kneel on the floor to my left,” Blake explained. “You will not touch your food with your hands.  You will use your mouth.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Jenny responded mechanically.  She is trying to push herself into her safe place within herself. “I understand, Sir”

“You will make eye contact with any that want to look at you,” He continued, “ and you will smile.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The restaurant was busy and there was a large group of people standing and talking.  The car stopped and Blake stepped out, then tugged on the leash, pulling Jenny forward.

She caught herself, then stepped out of the limo.  That is when the talking stopped as every pair of eyes settled on Jenny and her body.  Everyone was staring, some scandalized, most leering at her.  She was a scandal, but nobody seemed to want to stop it, much less, upset Blake Thompson.

They walked into the restaurant and were escorted to a center table.  Blake led Jenny by the leash till she was standing to his left.  Her face burned with humiliation, but she wore a beautiful smile.  

She knelt as Blake sat in a comfortable looking chair.  The waiter arrived and looked with shock at the beautiful kneeling woman.  “Sir, I’m not sur…” he began.

“It’s fine,” Blake said, putting his hand on Jenny’s head. “She’s quite comfortable, I assure you. Isn’t that right, puppy?”

“Yes, Sir,” Jenny said with a smiling face.  She had been staring into the waiter’s eyes the entire time.  She tried her best to fulfill her monster’s needs.  She didn’t have a choice, but to disappear into her box.

Blake ordered for them both, two steaks, one cut into tiny pieces and put in a bowl for the “Puppy”.  Jenny’s shame knew no depths now.  She was forcing herself to look at everyone and smile.  

“Mr Thompson,” a middle aged man said. “It’s great to see you again.”

Blake looked up and grinned, “Barry, how are you?”

“I’m good, real good,” Barry said, his eyes never leaving Jenny’s body.  “Your pet is beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Blake said as he leaned back in his chair.  He placed his hand on her head.  Jenny smiled beautifully at Barry.  “You want to pet her?”  

Jenny almost burst into tears as these men spoke about her like a prized pet, an animal to be played with.  She fought them with all her strength, knowing punishment would follow if she slipped for an instant.

“Put your hands behind your head, Puppy,” Blake commanded and Jenny obeyed.  

She straightened her back and put her hands behind her head.  Barry came around the table.  This position put her gorgeous body on complete display.  Her dress did more to advertise her most private parts than to cover them.  

The man walked up and put his hands on her body.  He fondled her tits then put his fingers in her mouth.  Jenny was horrified at how this man casually felt her body, assaulted her, in a room full of people.  

Thankfully, the assault didn’t last long and the man thanked Blake for the opportunity before returning to his table.  The night continued and people would walk up to the table and talk to Blake about several things.  Many took the opportunity to assault the exposed Jenny.

When the food arrived, Jenny’s was put into a bowl on the floor.  “Eat,” Blake commanded as he picked up his silverware and began to cut into his steak.  Jenny knelt down and began to pick up pieces of expensive stake. 

After dinner, Blake led the nearly naked and completely humiliated Jenny back to the limousine.  Only once the door was shut did Blake look at her. 

“You did well, Puppy,” Blake said to her. “I'm proud of your behavior.”

The words filled Jenny with conflicting emotions, part of her felt pride at surviving the night and satisfying this man. Another part, a quieter part, felt revulsion for what she had endured.  The looks, the fondling of her vulnerable body.

“Thank you, Sir,” was all she could think to say.  Blake didn't say anymore and the drive back to the warehouse was made in silence.

When they entered the office, Jenny saw that Eric had arrived.  He looked better than when he left.  He had showered and changed clothes.  The swelling on his face had receded and he could look out both eyes now.

Eric looked shocked at seeing his beautiful wife walk in wearing such scandalous clothing.  Eric had never seen her look more stunning than she did at that moment.  Her hair and makeup were expertly done and the dress she wore made her look like something from a fashion magazine. 

Blake walked to his chair, pulling Jenny along by the leash.  When he sat down, Jenny, without command, dropped to her knees beside the man.  Blake reached over and put his hand on top of her head and said, “Good Girl,”

Eric was beside himself, “Jenny, what have they done to you?” he questioned as he saw her shutter from the compliment.

Jenny wanted to answer, but feared that Blake would punish her for breaking Rule Four.  She wanted to tell him that this was all his fault, that she was doing what had to be done to save their lives.

“She is becoming what she has always meant to be,” Blake said, “A Whore.”

“What are you?” Blake turned his head toward Jenny.

“A cock sleave, Sir.” She answered in a monotone voice.

“Yes,” Blake said. “You've always been a slut, but now you have an excuse to show it.  You have always wanted to kneel and serve, it's your nature.”

Jenny was horrified to hear those words.  She was not a slut, she was doing what had to be done.  She wasn't taking any pleasure from this treatment.  She has been forced to be an object all day.  Used and posed for the pleasure of others.  Seeing the desire in their eyes as they objectified her.  The degrading way they had spoken to her, saying that, “She's a good puppy,” or “You're a lucky owner.”

“Now watch,” Blake adjusted his grip on the leash and pulled Jenny closer.  She shimmied between his legs, a smile still plastered on her face.

“Now suck cock like your life depends on it,” Blake removed his cock from his trousers and held it out for Jenny.  Jenny didn't need to have the threat explained, she knew what she had to do.

Jenny leaned forward to take the large cock into her mouth.  The man was clean and his cock was well shaped.  She spread her lips and took it into her mouth.  She took the cock deeply into her mouth and still several inches remained.  She pushed herself.  The cock resisted her throat.  She pushed herself harder, the cock entered her throat.

It felt like her throat was a clenched fist, grabbing the cock as her body tried to heave.  She felt her gag reflex and pushed it away.  Giving the best blowjob of her life wasn't to fulfill her needs, it was to please this man.  This man who held her life in his hands.

She pulled her head back slightly to get more spit on the invading member.  Her saliva mixing with Blake's pre cum coated her mouth in a sticky, salty film.  She almost gagged again, before lowering her mouth on the cock again.  The head of the cock rubs against the soft palate of her mouth and the sensitive area of the tongue.  

Her throat closed again, trying to prevent the cock any access.  She pushed herself even harder and the cock began to slide into her throat.  Each inch felt like it was tearing her apart.  

She felt her nose press against the body of Blake and she knew she had succeeded.  She had taken his entire length into her mouth and throat.  Without pausing, she raised and lowered her head again.  It was easier this time, her throat was starting to unclench and accepting the cock.

She was a masterpiece, her glorious body wearing hardly anything.  She was on her knees with cock in her mouth.  She looked beautiful and alluring as she moved her body to please the cock inside her.  

Blake soon pushed her head back and said, “Take it on your tongue, don't swallow.”  Standing, he took his cock in his hand and began to stroke it before the kneeling beauty.  When he came it was in thick ropes of cum that he aimed into her mouth.

Jet after jet of warm, salty fluid shot into her mouth and she caught all of it.  She even leaned forward to suck the last few drops from the cockhead.  Her mouth was open, showing the sperm.

“Good Girl,” he said, placing his hand on the top of her head. “Now swallow.”  

Jenny did as she was instructed and swallowed the salty fluid.  She remained on her knees until Blake rose and led her into the center of the room.  From the ceiling was the rope that had once held her husband’s life.  He led her directly below the rope.

“Remove the dress,” Blake said.

With trembling hands, she worked the dress up and over her head.  The feeling of air on her naked body made her shiver as she stood.  Blake walked to the cabinet to grab leather handcuffs.  Using the cuffs, he secured her wrists together, then used the overhead rope to lift her hands above her head. He returned to the cabinet and picked up a muti-thonged whip.  It had roughly a dozen braided leather thongs.

“Now I’m going to truly introduce you to pain,” Blake said, pacing around the helpless woman.  Her hands pulled tight enough that she had to stand on her toes.

Blake circled her and swished the flogger around in a figure 8 pattern.  Occasionally he would add an extra spin to it that would cause the thongs to whistle as they cut through the air. With a skillful flick of the wrist, Blake racked the vicious tool across her back.

Jenny let out a scream as she felt thongs bit into her flesh, long lines of fire.  Her feet left the ground and left the woman hanging.  Blake didn’t wait long before he struck her again with a reverse swing that left a perpendicular trace of lines on Jenny’s flesh.

This was not a quick and brutal attack, this was slow and methodical.  Each swing brought the flogger on fresh skin.  No place was safe, her ass, her breasts, her back and belly.  Each strike brought up angry red welts, but did not break the skin.  Blake was almost an artist with whips and canes.  Jenny was soon broken and begging for it to stop.  

Eric was unable to do anything.  He watched his wife being whipped while he sat, handcuffed to a chair.  Anything he tried would only make things worse for them.  Blake had six guys sitting in the next room.  With a word he could have them all killed.

After almost an hour had passed, Blake summoned Gabby.  She came into the room, after a polite knock on the door.  She again wore a black skirt and white blouse.  She walked quickly up to the pair standing in the middle of the room. 

“Yes, Sir,” she said as she looked at the face of Jenny.  Her head hung low and tears had made a mess of her makeup.  She didn’t see any of the strongwilled defiant woman she had met yesterday.  The woman she was looking at was broken.  

“Make her cum,” Blake said as he continued to swish the flogger through the air.

“Yes, Sir,” Gabby responded. “Thank you, Sir!”

Gabby almost dropped straight to her knees with the eagerness she felt.  She had been attracted to this woman since she first met and has been waiting for this opportunity.  

She slid between Jenny’s legs, supporting one leg on her shoulder, and quickly put her mouth to Jenny’s pussy.  She let her tongue explore the new flesh it found and soon it was caressing Jenny in ways she never thought possible.  

Jenny was a mess, her mind and body were burning in confusion and pain, but also intense pleasure.  She couldn’t focus on anything due to the intense pain she felt.  Each of the welts placed on her delicate flesh was radiating pain and she must have a hundred of them.  

At first it was like a dim light in the forest, but soon it was a searchlight.  It was building, it was a place where the pain and the troubles couldn’t reach, it was pleasure.  

Jenny became aware of the angelic face of Gabby between her legs.  She felt her tongue moving and exploring her sex, her nibbling and sucking on her clit.  She didn’t even question right or wrong, she only searched out the pleasure of Gabby’s mouth.  It was then that the next blow from the flogger fell on a bare spot on her back.  A spot Blake had been saving just for this moment.

The pain coursed through Jenny’s broken form and flowed into the pleasure of Gabby’s mouth and the two forces broke through a wall and the most mind blowing orgasm of Jenny’s life came through it.  

Jenny’s body convulsed and writhed all over Gabby’s face as Blake continued to flog Jenny with light strokes.  Each slap of the flogger would send Jenny over the edge again.

After several moments, an unconscious woman hung in the middle of the room.  Gabby’s blouse was damp from the squirt that had accompanied Jenny’s orgasm.

Blake walked over to Eric and looked at him. “That is how you break a woman.”

I had awoken early, as golden rods burst through the glass door. As I stretched up out of bed, I could see you were still very much asleep and I wouldn’t dare to disturb you. This was a break for you, afterall. Cracking open the door, the morning light rippled on the surface of the water, making mini suns that glimmered even more beautifully than that which hung in the sky. I trotted through the garden (if you could call it that), admiring the pond, attentively listening to the wondrous sounds of the water in the nearby stream as it rushed away. My feet would catch in the frostbitten grass, and I felt the dew spatter over them. Deciding to stop near the edge of the pond, I knelt down, my knees and shins getting damp in the process. I closed my eyes, to concentrate on the warmth falling on my face, and noticing the distant sound of geese. 

I heard a shuffling sound in the grass, but had not thought much of it, instantaneously, from my kneeling position I fell backwards onto my elbows and back and shuddered in pain. It was you, now awake, you stalked me, and waited for me to let my guard down, kicking me into the ground. A cruel chuckle escaped your mouth. As for me, I was now soggy all over, however I managed to make it back to my starting position as I recoiled from the fair kick. My eyes swelled with feeling, following your figure and gaze, as you looked out on the nearby hill, which was covered in those distinctive dried blood coloured brambles. In these moments, I adored you as much as the scenery. 

“I’m sorry, did I scare you, little one?” You teased, in a low tone. I shook my head and giggled slightly.

“Maybe a little bit, Sir,” I responded. You were standing straight, and proud, and the early sun was reflecting off you in such a way that you appeared as a demi god. The sun had accentuated your beauty beyond the status of being merely a man. 

“Come, come here, now” you beckoned and your wish was my command, I crawled over to you, stopping a foot or two away, then returned to my kneeling position, now looking up into your eyes. I could feel myself beginning to recede and merge into you. Grasping my chin, you maintained the intense eye contact. Your other hand had found itself entangled in my hair, tugging it slightly, every so often. 

“Do you want to be a good girl for daddy? Do you want to make him really happy? And show him how yourself you are?” You teasingly questioned whilst still managing to maintain a cold edge in your voice. 

“Uh huh, yes Sir, please let me show you how useful I can be” I pleaded lovingly. You had moved your hand which was holding my chin, instead, gently landing a couple of delicate slaps on my face. 

“I’m not sure you can manage, baby, do you remember the last time? It was a pretty pathetic performance. Dreadful, actually” you mocked and belittled. 

“But-daddy, you said, it was exactly what you wanted. I - I don’t understand” that swelling feeling now one of sinking, and bubbling embarrassment, nonetheless that neediness growing within me.

“Awe, little one, you’re so cute, and stupid. I was lying when I said it was good. It wasn’t good, it was terrible. Quite frankly that’s one of the only reasons I keep you around. To watch as you degrade and humiliate yourself, in your pitiful and desperate attempts to please me. Did you really believe that someone who pukes when sucking dick was doing a good job? The best job? Jesus, you not only stupid but fucking pathetic too. I need someone that’s not going to fail and get their guts all on me when I ask them to do something.” You hiss at me, pulling my hair, forcing me to keep this eye contact which I so desperately wanted to break. I could see the sadistic pleasure in your eyes. Internally I was shaking, tears gathering in my eyes, and my desire to dissolve, immense. I craved to be tasked, to prove myself, as I felt disgusted and humiliated. 

“Because I love you so very much, and I’m very patient and generous, I'm going to give you a second chance. But remember, without me you are fucking nothing. Nobody else will put up with your useless incompetence, you’re a piss poor excuse of a submissive and frankly my time would be better spent drowning you, however, because I’m so caring I’ll let you try again.” You sneered at me, moving your hands to your crotch, releasing your cock from your bottoms. You had placed your palms on my forehead and tilted my head back. I let my jaw relax and fall open, extending my tongue, showing to you that I was ready. A single tear fell down my cheek and my heart rattled against my ribs like it was kicking its way out of my body. 

Swiftly, your dick is plunging into my open mouth, and begins pushing back and forth. I let my mouth get all foamy for you, my saliva coating your cock. Initially, it's slow and easy back and forth, and only deep enough to tickle my tonsils. Your hands moved up to my hair, grabbing a fist full from the root, either side. We work in tandem, as you thrust into my mouth and I help ease your efforts as you guide my head back and forth. 

This story is pure fiction.

Mark's mind slowly felt the daze receeding. His eye lids felt heavy. Something felt weird. He felt like he was wrapped up tight. As he got more of his bearings he realized he was in a sitting position in some sort of chair. This chair had nothing supporting his butt but just his thighs. His thighs were strapped down by something. He was finally able to open is eyelids but it was still pitch black. Focusing on his face he realized he had some sort of face mask over his face, a blindfold and a ball gag in his mouth. His hands were on either side of him restrained by felt like metal. His ankles were fastened by the same metal feeling material. His chest was strapped by a few straps. His neck was collared and held tightly again the back of the chair or whatever it was. He strained but there was no avail. The only thing he could move were his feet that seemed suspended off the ground be cause he could not feel anything.

His cock was still caged up, it was straining from the predicament. Another lesson for Mark apparently he liked being held captive. Felt some drool from his gag and on his pelvis.

He tried straining against the restraints again but nothing budged. He only successfully made some clanking sounds from the metal restraints.

Then he heard it, something stirring in the distance. It was more clanking. Then a frustrated scream but muffled. Mark went dead silent.

"Heeeeeeeeeeey" a muffled high pitch scream followed by more clanking.

Mark felt like the other person must be ball gagged too and see seemed very close to mark at least 10 to 15 feet away in front of him

Then there was a loud click and a whirl like a light turning on.

Then another scream. "Heeeeey lymph mee gooooph" this time the scream sounded more sacred. The thrashing continued. Then the sound of a door opening behind the noise Mark was hearing.

Caroline was blinded by the light. She was still coming from her daze. Then the whole situation became very real. Squinting and looking up there was a mirror reflecting her situation. She was nude restrained on some sore of gyno table. Around her neck a collar, around her head U-shaped metal braket that extended to her ears from the back of her head. The metal brace was holding a sort of latex bondage mask. It had cutouts for her nose, mouth and eyes. On either side of the metal brace were some sort of attachments points. The attachment points near her mouth were holding the ball gag which was fasted to a metal corner bar the locked into the fasteners. Caroline looked at the eyes and the fear in them as well as the drool coming from her mouth that was forced around the ball gag. Her neck was attach to the table by the collar. Her torso strapped with 5 straps. Her arms had 3 straps each and everyone of her fingers were restrained individually in a metal bracket. The rest of her body had a shadow over it. Caroline did feel her legs on some stirrups and restrained. She had no where to go. That's when she heard the door behind her.

Mia strode behind Caroline. She was wearing ceal blue scrubs. Her breasts and ass perfectly outlined. Mia's blond hair cascading down her shoulders. Caroline flinched as Mia's sudden caressed her shoulder.

"Hi honey, I'm glad your comfortable" Mia said whispering into Caroline's ear.

Caroline eyes were fierce with rage and she started straining with all her might.

"Mphhhhh" growl Caroline

"Ow that's so sweet, you think you can get out this. " Laughed Mia putting her hair in a pony tail.

"I guess we haven't been properly introduced I'm Mistress Mia. You know the one you disrespected by abusing my sub without my permission and thinking you would push me aside" said Mia matter of factly.

"Yoph bitph" yelled Caroline into her gag.

"Wow, you've got a mouth on you. I used to be like you once as a Dom. Until I met my Mistress and she showed me the intricacies of being a good Dom. I think you will be very appreciative of the same sort of leadership. First, you will always address me as Mistress." Said Mia

"Let's practice" said Mia undoing the ball gag.

"Fuck off i do not sub to anyone" yelled Caroline as the gag came out, it dropped to the floor with a loud clatter.

" I see your going to be a little difficult don't worry I'll be here to help you through this. " Said Mia not even shaken. Mia turned and went to the side of the room to gather a few things.

"Let me go you bitch!" Yelled Caroline after her.

Mia wheeled a cart over to the gyno table with a few implements without a word. She kept them from view. Mia pressed a button on the chair and Caroline's head started lowering and her ass started lifting in the air.

"Stop it, let me go!" protested Caroline. It seemed she realized that Mia would not be faltered from her insults.

Mia placed a bling fold over her eyes.

"For this next bit I'll keep your eyes blocked" said Mia clinically. Carolines world went dark.

"Hey take this off" Caroline yelled

"I promise to take it off soon, but first I'll get this part done" said Mia putting on some white latex gloves and a blue medical mask. Then took some safety glasses and placed them over her eyes.

"What is the fir..." Caroline started to say but Mia quickly shoved a few fingers in her mouth along with a molt dental gag. Mia placed gags rubber blades perfectly between Caroline's back teeth. Caroline tried to close but was too late. Mia too her fingers out of her mouth and used her latex clad fingers to slowly click by click open Caroline's mouth. The only thing Caroline could do was flail her tongue around in protect.

" Ahhhhhhhh" moaned Caroline.

" Almost done sweety, Caroline took another metal dental gag. This one different. As opposed to the molt that had an external handle. This one fit behind the teeth and had screws on it which would expand it. Once placed in the mouth it would not be seen from the outside and it can't be dislodged without the screw turned to make it smaller

"This next gag is one of my favorites" said Mia with a grin under her mask. She took her white latex gloves fingers and moved Caroline's lip out of the way. The other gloved hand placed the internal dental gag behind Caroline from teeth. Caroline tried to stop the imposing structure by pushing it with her tongue but Mia had handled it expertly. With the gag held down with one hand the other turned the thumb screws and extended the gag behind the front teeth on the bottom and the top. Soon the gag was just as open as the molt had opened it. Mia screwed the other screw to meet the first. She took a hand off the gag and check for stability. It was reasonably stable.

"2 more turns will do it" said Mia through her mask taking both hand and turning the screws two more complete turns. At this point the molt was loose and Mia removed it. Carolines mouth was forced open to a size she never imagined.

" Now that's better, one more hole for me to play with said" Mia. She took her right gloved hand and inserted 2 fingers down carolines throat. Caroline gagged. Mia slid them in and out a few times with a chuckle. As Mia was removing her fingers. Caroline used all the saliva she had and launched it at Mia.

Mia's glassed and mask were covered. Mia stepped back.

"We have a tough one, I like breaking the tough ones" laughed Mia. She took her final implement from her table. It was another gag that she had not intended to use.

"Since you being so hostile, I guess I'll train you with this to begin with" said Mia plunging the silicone plug into Caroline's mouth. The plug had an enlarged area the could be inflated and it sat just behind the internal dental gag. The outside of the gag sealed around the mouth opening of the latex mask.

Caroline tried to say something but nearly no sound came out.

"There we go, finally some peace" said Mia undoing the blindfold.

Carolines eyes adjusted to the surgical light. When they finally focused. She saw Mia standing over her and holding something dark. As her eyes focused it was a bulb with a hose leading to the new silicone plug. Mia was smiling at her and then her white gloved hand squeezed the bulb, inflating the plug. Carolines eyes when wide. Mia pumped again. Carolines eyes went even wider as if pleading for Mia to stop. Her mouth was so full the gag was starting to go to the back of her throat. Mia did a half pump. Caroline started gagging. Tears we streaming down her face as she continuously gagged.

"You did this to yourself honey." Said Mia setting down the bulb on Caroline's chest. Carolines gagging sound were barely audible through the silicone plug.

Mia took off her gloves and spoaked mask and glasses. She walked back to get more implements taking the metal cart with her.

To be continued.

It started innocently enough: I was feeling horny one Sunday morning. Normally, I’d just work that out myself, but Olivia was right there being such a fucking tease. She was laying on her stomach on the couch, wearing her “cozy socks” (bright pink and fluffy) and her ridiculous yoga shorts, which were so tight that her ass was neatly divided into two perfect, luscious spheres.

She was fucking around on TikTok or whatever. Way less important than my cock. And when I walked by behind the couch, lazily rubbing my budding erection through my sweats, I thought, “I should just fuck her.” Why not, right? Olivia loved to be involved if I was feeling horny and had told me before that I should just use her sometime. It was kind of an off-handed remark, but it was the sort that stuck with me. Use her, eh? Now, that sounded fun.

I sat on the backs of her thighs and began grinding my erection against her ass. “Hmm?” She peeked over her shoulder distractedly, “Horny?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, my eyes focused on her plump ass. “I think I’ll fuck you.” I pulled down her shorts and then pushed her plain black thong to the side.

“Oh!” She seemed pleasantly surprised. She wiggled her hips invitingly, the bottoms of her cheeks brushing against my cockhead. “Do you wanna–MMPH!”

“Shush.” I grabbed a handful of her copper hair and pushed her into the seat cushion. Quickly enough, I was inside her, my cock pushing in and out of her sopping pussy. It was a quick one. I held her in that position–one hand on her head, the other gripping her ass–while I fucked her. I could hear her muffled, needy whines. When I was close I pulled back on her hair, lifting her head up, and gave her left ass cheek a hard smack.

“Fuck!” she yelped just as I came inside her. I shoved her forward again, both palms digging into her ass as I filled her slit with my cum. When my balls were empty I pulled out, gave her ass another smack for good measure and went to wash off.

She called after me, “That was, um, really fucking hot. You should do that again sometime.”

---

The next time I was even more assertive. Olivia was reading a book in bed. She had her glasses on, was all cozied up with her hair in a big, messy bun, and was wearing her favorite oversized t-shirt. Once again, I was feeling horny and had spent a bit of time watching some facefucking videos prior to retiring to our bedroom. So when I walked in and saw Olivia laying there, consumed by her novel, all I could think of was how much I wanted to use her mouth.

I was only wearing boxer briefs at the time, so when I climbed on top of her, but my knees next to her shoulders, and pushed her book aside, she got a face full of hard on.

“Babe, hold on, I’m trying to finish–”

“I need your mouth,” I thumbed my waist band down and let my erection tumble against her forehead. I dragged it down, smearing a sticky length of precum along Olivia’s nose. Then I pushed against her pink lips, which she eagerly parted for me. Setting aside her book, she grabbed the backs of my thighs, inviting me into her waiting throat.

Something about using her like that really turned me on, which led to more aggression than usual. I grabbed her messy bun, using it like a handle while I fucked her against the headboard. She looked over her glasses–which were sliding down her nose at this point–and made eye contact with me. There was something needy in her watery blue eyes and that look encouraged me to choke her with my shaft.

“GLUCK, pshwaff, GLUCK, GLUCK, phleck,” spit ran down her chin, breaking in thick, sticky strands against her oversized shirt. It was now thoroughly drenched in saliva.

I grasped the sides of her head with both hands, “Fuck, that’s it, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

I pulled out of her mouth just as a massive spurt of semen snapped across her glasses, nearly catching her in the eye. A second rope of cum nearly went up her nostril, but instead landed along the bridge of her nose. A third went into her hair (which I knew she’d be annoyed about) and a fourth and fifth hit her cheek.

I fell off her, expecting her to be at least somewhat irritated that I decided to fuck her face while she was reading. To my surprise, she sat there, my cum dripping down to her chin, for a few moments. Then, her hand slipped between her thighs and she began to finger herself.

“You okay?” I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“That made me, mmmm, fuck, that made me really wet,” she whined in response.

I grabbed her vibrator from the bedside table and pushed it against her clit, “Oh yeah?”

“Ah, mhm, mhm,” she was grinding against the vibrator. “You just…took what you wanted. It was really hot.”

“Yeah? So, I should just fuck you whenever I feel like now?”

“Well…mmh, ah, fuck, that’s it. Maybe not whenever, but I think you should use me when you need to. I always want to get you off.”

“So you won’t mind if I treat you like a toy?”

“Definitely treat me like a toy. Like a little fuck toy. I want you to use me when you need release.”

“Shake on it,” I demanded as she inched near orgasm.

“Ah, mhm, ah, ah, I’m so…close,” she bit her bottom lip as she tried to hold my extended hand. She came just as we shook on it, her body shuddering in small tidal waves of pleasure. “Whew, okay, okay. You can fuck me whenever you need to, Sir.”

“Good girl.” I ran my index finger along her face, collecting my semen and then directing it into her mouth. “I’m going to enjoy using you.”

I’ve been seeing my Dom for four months now. He’s 35, calm, successful, and absolutely merciless once the door closes. I’m 21, bratty by nature, but last night I finally surrendered everything.

He texted me during the day: “My place. 8pm. Wear only a coat and heels. Nothing else. Leave your pride at the door.”

When I arrived he didn’t speak. He simply took my coat, leaving me naked and shivering in his living room, then buckled a thick leather collar around my throat with “Daddy’s Fucktoy” engraved on the tag. My pussy was already dripping.

He cuffed my wrists behind my back and marched me to his bedroom. The spreader bar went on first ankles locked wide apart so I couldn’t close my legs even if I wanted to. Then he bent me over the edge of the bed, face down, ass up, and tied my collar to a ring in the headboard so I could barely move.

“Count,” was all he said before the flogger started kissing my ass and thighs. By twenty I was moaning like a whore. By forty my legs were shaking and my cunt was leaking down my thighs. He checked by shoving three fingers inside me roughly.

“Soaked already. Pathetic.”

He made me beg for his cock. I did loudly, desperately, calling myself his stupid little cumslut until he finally slammed into my pussy in one brutal thrust. The stretch was perfect. He fucked me hard and deep, pulling my collar tight so I could feel my airway restricted just enough to make my head spin.

Then he switched holes.

He pushed his thick cock against my ass with almost no lube beyond my own juices and forced his way in while I whimpered and moaned. The burn was intense. He didn’t care. He just held my hips and used my ass like it belonged to him because it does.

While he was balls-deep in my ass he reached around and clamped my nipples with heavy metal clips. Every thrust made them tug and sting. I came so hard I squirted on his floor.

He flipped me onto my back, legs still spread wide, and fucked my throat until I gagged and drooled everywhere. Mascara ran down my cheeks. He slapped my face lightly between thrusts, calling me his perfect broken toy.

The finale was the best. He tied me in a tight hogtie, vibrator taped directly on my clit on high, and took turns using my pussy and ass while I screamed and came over and over. I don’t know how many orgasms I had. I lost count after the sixth. My voice was hoarse from begging and moaning.

When he finally finished he pulled out and covered my face and tits in thick ropes of cum. Then he left the vibrator on while he went to get water, forcing me to ride another shattering orgasm while covered in his load.

Aftercare was gentle he untied me, cleaned me up, held me, and told me what a good girl I was for taking everything. I’ve never felt more owned, more used, and more satisfied.

I’m already aching to go back tonight. I want him to push me even further next time.

Fellow subs: what’s the most intense scene you’ve ever submitted to? I need ideas for how much deeper I can fall.

I live alone in a quiet apartment and most nights the loneliness sits heavy in my chest. Everyone sees the sweet, put-together girl who smiles in class and chats with friends, but no one knows how badly I crave being controlled and exposed. Last night he came over and I finally let those hidden feelings spill out.

He ordered me to undress slowly in the middle of the living room. Once I was completely naked he tied my wrists behind my back with soft black rope and had me stand with my legs apart. The position made me feel so vulnerable. He walked around me in silence, inspecting every inch of my body like he was deciding my worth. His fingers traced my nipples until they were aching, then slid between my legs to feel how wet I already was.

Youre dripping just from being looked at, he said quietly. The words burned with humiliation but made my pussy throb harder. He made me stay perfectly still while he edged me with his fingers, bringing me right to the edge over and over again, then stopping each time I started to shake. I was whimpering and begging by the third round, my thighs trembling.

He finally pushed me down onto the couch, spread me wide, and continued the inspection. He told me how needy and desperate I looked, how obvious it was that I had been hiding these slutty desires behind my quiet everyday life. Every humiliating observation made me wetter. I felt so seen, so exposed, like he was peeling back all the loneliness I carry.

After what felt like forever he leaned close and asked if I thought I deserved to come. I whispered please, barely able to speak. He finally let me, his fingers working me perfectly while I cried out in relief, my whole body shaking in the ropes.

For those few minutes the emptiness disappeared. I wasnt lonely anymore. I was his, and that felt like everything I had been missing.

Author’s Note:

I’ve gotten plenty of requests for an epilogue to No Need to Worry. You guys really want to see some ponygirl action, huh?

Well, as a treat and a thank you to all of you for sticking around and reading so much of my twisted writing, here’s a little more on each of our three female senators and their fates. I hope you all enjoy! I made sure they all suffered just for you, readers.

Female Downfall Masterpost:

https://www.reddit.com/u/EscapeOoat/s/rpyyVKKc35

Previous Part:

https://www.reddit.com/r/BDSMerotica/s/Ej0wBVfsJE

First Part:

https://www.reddit.com/r/BDSMerotica/s/w2snPlYFAu

~~~

There was a period early in the mid-2040s that saw an explosion of artistic creativity, in which the culmination of complete liberty with female bodies to freedom of artistic expression created a space in which the nude body of a woman was the ultimate canvas.

Many firsts happened during this time.
Some were grisly and almost medical in nature. When you don’t concern yourself with the comfort of a living subject, you don’t stop to think of how grotesque what you may be doing is, truly. There were cases of women transformed into furniture, or modified into living blow-up dolls with sensitive and massive lips, breasts, rears, so on. One peculiar artist had his “canvas” subjugated to a surgery in which her clit was enlarged to uncanny proportions and then she was dangled by a tight full body canvas in the midst of an art museum. Guests were encouraged to flick at the flesh, and find out how high pitched her screams could become. This was par for the course in these early days of the “Wild West” of utter female objectification.

But not all were so unnatural. Many others saw the beauty in the sincere female form distilled to its bare essentials. Many women ended up encased in displays were only their most intimate parts could be seen, almost like hunting trophies. These were all perfectly legal and, slowly, accepted as entirely moral.

Who had any right to tell a man what to do with his property, after all?

Jackeline, of course, was for the rest of her days wholly unaware that her torture was absolutely considered a normal state of being.

Her tenure as a wall display was several decades long. It need not be said how it ended, as that can be imagined. And yes, what you’re imagining is entirely correct. (Suffice to say, you’re probably only halfway right. It was probably even worse than that). But if she was aware of it, the irony is that she could have probably freed herself from her confines.

You see, by technicality, her imprisonment was illegal. Not out of concern for her health, mind you, but because of her status as legal property. When women lost all rights, they defaulted to the ownership of the man with the most authority over them, or they went straight to the pockets of the government to be re-distributed through differing corporations in a variety of ways.

However, Senator Sammuells never bothered with this paperwork to confirm himself her rightful owner. By technicality, she was abducted while still considered a citizen, which was unlawful. Once the constitution was shifted, she had no immediate male owner. So, she would have been sent off to a storage facility until shipped off to a department store where ultimately she’d spend her days as a fashion display mannequin. That is, if the law was followed and the senator had no interest in buying her.

But this did not happen. Instead, she stayed in a debasing pose with a rubber cock down her throat for the rest of her life, pumping bitter nutrients down to her stomach every several hours to keep her looking fresh and healthy. Jackeline would lose feeling in her feet once the muscles began atrophifying from lack of use in a couple years. But she’d stay squatting regardless, as her restraints gave her little leeway.

Every few weeks, someone glanced at the bare, framed cunt and tits that jut out of the wall in the senator’s home. This wall slowly accumulated dozens more, all belonging to well-known or publicly present women prior to the shift in society. They were all labeled, even Jackeline’s. But no one ever found out her position was technically theft.

Why would they care?

——

Sugar stamped her feet. Owner had missed feeding time.

She didn’t like feeding time, but owner liked her to pretend she did. So she did. Because that’s what owner wanted. And Sugar always did what owner wanted.

Life was not easy for Sugar. She was always so sore and so tired. But the sounds in her head from her harness always did such a good job reminding her that she was supposed to be sore and tired.

Good Ponies hurt for men

It would say, in that soothing female voice

Sugar deserves this

It would repeat all the time

Sugar is a plaything

And on and on and on…

Sugar could remember a little of the time when she wasn’t Sugar yet. When she was bitchy and earned the treatment she got now.

Sometimes she got upset at it, and would wish she wasn’t such a dumb mare. She could’ve been allowed to lie down to sleep, but she lost that privilege. So now she caught little bits of sleep at night in her little spot in the barn, when she stopped shivering from how cold she was as a nude little mare.

But mostly Sugar did her job. She made herself amusing. She whinnied and led carts and took whippings and did what girls should do. She made herself a plaything for men.

And when owner came walking up in his big riding boots and grabbed her a sugar cube, she’d pretend she loved how it tasted after he stuck it up her cunt and then shoved it on her mouth. Because he liked that.

And when the Better Cunts who were allowed to pretend to be people a little more than her came and brushed her long, long mane and put it in a ponytail and waxed her long hooves that never came off her legs, that went up to her thighs and put her standing practically on her tippy toes underneath. Well, Sugar would let them run their tongues all over her body while the men watched and would make such cute noises so that the men enjoyed it. And when she wouldn’t cum, she’d neigh and pout and seem so so dumb.

Because Sugar was dumb. She know it. She hasn’t been a Good Girl when she had the chance.

So now she was sore and tired and pulling carts and being ridden on and had her cunt stuffed with things she didn’t want and her ass filled with a fake tail made of hair she shore off ages ago.

And Sugar would always be like this. And it would always hurt.

Because Sugar knew now.

Sugar is a plaything. Sugar deserves this. Good Ponies hurt for men.

——

“Of course, sir! Do you want to make me choke again today? I’ll do it if you like! I love choking for you.”

“Oh, of course! I’ll bend over again! Do you want to see my pretty holes? It’s so degrading and it makes me so wet!”

“Don’t bother going to the urinal. Feel free to just use my mouth. No need for a man to waste any energy even walking a couple of steps when a perfectly willing cunt is right here!”

Her days filled with these constant sentences. And Senator Violet meant every single one of them.

Her routine was very similar every day. She woke up just when the sun was coming up, and swapped out the heels for jogging shoes. And she jogged the courtyard. In the winter, they let her wear tight-fitting but nonetheless warm winter clothing. Every other season, she was nude. Which became the standard for most women quickly.

Then, she used the shower in the men’s room, reapplied her makeup, and waited for her first meal while kneeling, her legs splayed wide, her stance upright, the dumbest look of eager anticipation on her face.

Within an hour or two, a man clad in a suit, often even more than one, would come in and relieve himself in her throat. Sometimes she was his first orgasm of the morning. Sometimes, she fulfilled the duty expected of a urinal. She never really knew which to expect.

Violet thanked every single man who came in. She wanted them all to feel very special, because they were. Moreso than her and every female object out there.

Frankly, she felt more equal kinship with the other urinals and the trash can than the men. She was as much a receptacle as them.

In her first week, she’d actually had meetings with several of the officials that had allowed her this promotion. They’d confirmed that she still had the title of Senator, as it was agreed she fulfilled the role of female liaison.

On an official level, she was the one that could be consulted on matters of female autonomy. By extension, the men’s room was her office. It even said so, right below the “Restroom” sign.

“Senator Violet, Liaison and Representative of Female Agency”

They even conducted the odd discussion with her regarding women that attempted to flee or escape. They’d bring their paperwork and read it aloud to her so she could voice her opinion on of the woman was within her legal rights and protections.

For example, gurgling on the meeting representative’s cock until she drooled all over her tits generally meant “throw the book at her”

And turning around, wiggling her ass with her cheeks spread wide to unveil her pink asshole meant “I can agree, this requires further consultation”

Of course, cooing in soft, feminine tones while worshipping the legs and thighs of the male representative could mean “I think we need to get this to judicial”

But that was all up to current interpretation.

It could be agreed, Senator Violet had a tough role to fulfill for a woman. But she did it well. And every night, she earned her rest all cuddled up in the janitorial closet with the towel she used as a blanket, surrounded by all the other bathroom tools on shelves. Sometimes, she even let her fingers part the folds between her thighs and treated herself to an orgasm. Something she knew few cunts could get. But she had to give herself the odd treat. Being a representative of the objects that were once people was hard work.