If you don't like sex stories, don't read it. If you don't like stories about forced sex, don't read it. If you are below the arbitrary age set for your area, don't read it. If for any reason it is illegal for you to read this story, don't read it. Copyright (c) 1998 Norm DePloom. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached. The author may be contacted at normdeploom@hotmail.com All the characters and events in this story are fictional, any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.
It's Only a Game By Norm DePloom normdeploom@hotmail.com He told me to write and tell you how I became his devoted slave. My name is...oh, He said not to use my name but just refer to myself as slut, whore or bitch just like He does. He is somewhat older...OK, He says I have to be absolutely honest. He is almost twice my age. As far back as I can remember I've had this "thing' for older men. I think it has to do with...He says to forget the analysis and get on with the story. He and I had been dating for several months, long enough that we had become intimate...He says not to use euphemisms. We had been dating long enough that we were fucking on a regular basis. One day while we were eating lunch in the almost empty employee lunchroom He told me a fantasy He was having. It was a fantasy about having me chained to a bed and using me as His private fuck/rape toy. I was shocked. I was flabbergasted. He had always been gentle and kind to me. Somewhat authoritarian (which I think is what attracted me to him), but kind and gentle. Lunch hour was over so I rushed back to my desk and avoided Him the rest of the day. As I sat at my computer terminal., I couldn't get that image out of my mind. I could see myself, naked, chained to the headboard, setting on a bare mattress waiting for Him to come back and fuck me again. I started squirming in my chair and could feel my panties and panty hose getting soaked as that image floated in my mind. Finally I gave up and almost ran to the ladies room. Once I was safely locked in one of the stalls I pulled down my panties and hose and sat on the toilet. Reaching between my legs I ran my fingertip up and down my swollen cunt lips. The whole area was so wet with lubricant that my finger slipped easily inside me. I bit my lower lip trying to keep from moaning as I pushed a second finger into my cunt and began to rub little circles on my clit with the other hand. While I attended to the desperate need of my pussy I pictured my self once again on the bed, my hair was matted with sweat and cum, I had obviously been fucked many times without being allowed to wash my self. He comes through the door. He pushes me down on my stomach. He holds me down while He pushes Himself deeply into me. Oh god, I remember I came so hard I thought every one in the building would hear me despite the three knuckles I was biting into. It was the best cum I'd ever had, with or without a cock inside me. I fucked my self twice more before quitting time. Always the same thing driving my need, the image of me chained to a bed and Him forcing Himself into my body. The phone rang as soon as I got home. It was Him. He announced that He was coming over. It's only a ten-minute drive from his house to my apartment. I spent that ten minutes trying not to picture my self chained to that bare bed, being fucked whenever He felt like it. I also spent the time trying to deny the growing wetness of my panties. I jumped when the doorbell rang. I pulled my hand out of my crotch (I hadn't even realized that it was there), and hurried to the door to let Him in. There was something different about Him when He walked into my living room that day. That difference stirred a place deep in the pit of my stomach, a place I had never admitted even existed before. He sat in his favorite chair, then indicated that I should sit on the couch. As I walked to the couch and sat down I had the feeling that He had become the owner of my apartment and everything I owned. "How many times did you masturbate this afternoon?" He asked with extreme bluntness. I blushed deeper than I had ever blushed in my life. I had never discussed my "personal' stuff with anybody before, not even the men I fucked. I looked up at his face directly into his eyes, there was something in his look that compelled me to answer, and to tell the truth. "Three times." I answered my blush deepening. I felt embarrassment and humiliation sweeping over me. To talk about my masturbating was bad enough, but to admit that I did it three times because of that image of myself chained to a bed was almost beyond what I could tolerate. "We're going to act it out." He announced. "Oh god, no." I said shaking my head. I said "no' but I felt like a waterfall had been installed in my cunt. "Don't worry," He assured me, "it's only a game." He stood up and pulled me to my feet. He walked me out to his car then got in himself and drove off into the darkening night. I sat next to him. I could feel his body heat. It felt like I was on fire where ever He touched me. I glanced down my rock hard nipples showed, even through my bra and blouse. Looking lower I could see a dark circle forming in the crotch of my slacks where I'd leaked so much cunt lubricant that it was soaking through. My hands were shaking with fear. Oh god, I thought, what have I gotten myself into now? He drove us out into the country then pulled over on the side of a lonely, deserted road. He got out of the car, then pulled me out after Him. We walked to the back of the car and He opened the trunk. "This," He announced, "is where the kidnapping will take place." He proceeded to tie my hands behind my back, tie my legs together, blindfold me, and finally put tape over my mouth to gag me. Terror and wetness grew in equal measure as I was bound. After the binding was done, He pushed his hand down inside my slacks, panty hose and panties to feel my wet cunt. "You really are a little slut aren't you?" He asked with a sneer. Despite the gush from my cunt triggered by hearing myself called a slut, I felt hurt that He would talk to me like that. He pulled his hand out of my pants then lifted me and dumped me into the trunk. I heard the trunk lid slam and tried to scream through my tape gag as the car jerked and bounced down the pothole filled road. I have no idea how long we drove, and to this day I have no idea where He took me. I remember He stopped twice to open the trunk lid, check that I was OK, feel my tits and cunt then slam the lid shut again. The third time we stopped He lifted me out of the trunk and, after untying my legs walked me into a building. I bumped into walls a few times but finally He sat me down on the edge of a bed. I felt something stiff being put around my neck. He stuck His hand between it and my neck to check its tightness. I heard chains rattling as He worked with the collar around my neck. I felt him pulling at the corner of the tape over my eyes, then I screamed through the tape over my mouth as He suddenly jerked the tape from my eyes in one motion. I looked around me. I was in a bare room. There was nothing on the walls. The only piece of furniture was the bed I'd been chained to. The walls were dull, dirty white. One almost too bright light shone from the ceiling fixture. There was one door leading from the room, and no windows. I was setting on the edge of a bare mattress on an ornate but tarnished brass bed. He left the tape over my mouth and untied my hands. I watched the bulge in his pants while He worked. I wanted that in me more than I ever had before. After untying my hands He laid me on the bed and immediately tied my hands to the headboard. Then He shortened the chain so I could only lift my head about six inches off the mattress before I started choking my self. At this point I was truly helpless, truly under his complete control, my very life depended on keeping him happy. He ran his hands over my body on top of my clothing. When He got to the wet crotch of my slacks He dug His fingers in deeply pushing the material against my clit and cunt. I moaned through my gag and moved my hips pushing my aching cunt against His hand. "God what a dirty little whore." He said as He turned and left the room. Lying on the bed I had to squeeze my eyes shut because of the bright light. Tears leaked down my temples and dripped off my ears onto the bare mattress. It's only a game He'd said. I didn't want to play any more. He walked back into the room. He had changed into a pair of sweat pants. He pulled a wicked looking bowie knife from behind his back. My eyes must have bulged out like a cartoon character. Now I really didn't want to play any more. I squealed and screamed and begged through the tape gag as that knife came closer and closer to my face. The point of the knife loomed only a half-inch from my eyes. Terror is the only word that comes to mind. Terror and extreme wetness like my cunt had become a fountain. He put the point of the knife on my skin, it was cold, I could feel its sharpness. He slowly moved the point down over my chin and down my neck. "If I were you," He warned, "I'd lay perfectly still." My body was trembling all over, but I stayed as still as I could. He moved the knife over my clothes, not cutting, just dragging the tip. Then in a lightening fast move He slashed my blouse from just under my left breast all the way to the mattress. As He again moved the knifepoint over my clothes, I closed my eyes, I squeezed them tight. I thought I could stay still better if I didn't watch the knife moving over my body. I felt a stinging slap on my cheek, my head jerked to the side. "Open your eyes, bitch." He yelled at me. Then He stuck a small pillow under the back of my head to make it easier for me to watch the knife action. I cried and got angry as the knife slashed at my clothes. I was wearing my brand new blouse and slacks. I had only worn them once before. I had paid more for them than I usually do to impress Him. The pattern continued, He would play the knifepoint over my clothes and skin then, with a sudden flick of his wrist lash out and slash more of my clothing away. It must have taken an hour before my naked body was lying on top of the torn rags that used to be my clothes. His sweat pants were tented out where His hard cock pressed against the soft cottony inside. He looked at me then placed the point of his knife on the front of His sweat shorts and slashed downward. Oh god no, I thought, I was afraid He was going to cut His cock off and I desperately needed to be fucked. The fabric parted and His large hard cock slipped into view sticking out through the newly created fly. It looked beautiful, I would have licked my lips if they hadn't been taped shut. I wanted to beg Him to fuck me. I could not remember ever being as scared as I'd been when He was slashing my clothes, and I could not remember ever needing to be fucked as much as I did right that moment. With His hard cock sticking out the front of His sweat pants He approached me with the knife again. This time He teased every inch of my skin with the point, edge and flat of the cold steel knife. When He reached my breasts He spiraled the knifepoint up the breast until it was resting on my nipple. He slowly increased the pressure while I held my breath afraid to move. Slowly the point sank into the crinkled skin of my erect nipple. He just barely pushed it into the skin, then pulled it out. A drop of red blood appeared on the nipple. He leaned over and after licking the drop of blood from my rock hard nipple, pulled my nipple into his warm wet mouth and sucked on it like He was trying to get more blood. I moaned deeply as He sucked on my nipple. My breath was coming in ragged gasps. My body was covered with sweat from fear and from the temperature in the room. He released my nipple and moved the knife down over my heaving stomach. He twirled it in my belly button before moving it further down through my pubic hair. He stopped right at the top of my cunt, just above my clit. "Lift your legs and spread them as wide as you can." He ordered. I did as I was told. "Now, if you treasure your clit be perfectly still." I froze, more in terror than by my will. I watched with horror filled eyes as He flicked the point of His razor sharp knife back and forth over my clit. After playing with my clit He moved down lower and began to gently pry my sticky cunt lips apart with the knifepoint. Using the thumb and index finger of his other hand He held my cunt lips open as He carefully moved the knifepoint over the inside walls of my cunt opening. My cunt was so wet His knife slipped over the walls with no resistance. He scooped a bunch of my juices up with the knife blade then, bringing the knife up to his mouth, licked them off the blade while He stared into my eyes. I felt another gush of liquid oozing out of my cunt and running down toward my asshole. God I wanted this man to fuck me. Wanted? No. I needed him to fuck me. I needed to be fucked hard, so hard it hurt. I was trembling with fear but I was afraid of my emotions and overpowering lust not the knife He was using to stimulate my body. I was afraid of my need to be fucked like a nasty whore and then left waiting to be fucked again. All my life, even when I was "fucking around' I had denied and tried to hide this dark side of my soul. Now I had no choice but to give into it, to let it wash over me and take over my mind and body. Please fuck me, I yelled through the gag as I stared into His bright shinning eyes. He gently laid his hand on my trembling stomach. With His other hand He grabbed the tape gagging my mouth and ripped it off my face. "OH GOD." I screamed partially from pain and partially from mindless lust. "Please fuck me..." My request was interrupted by another slap that snapped my head over the other direction. I was sure I now had red handprints on each of my cheeks. "Shut the fuck up." He said with cold menace in his voice. "No body gives a fuck what a nasty little whore like you thinks or wants." He ran his hands over my naked breasts then down over my trembling stomach. "You will not speak again unless I ask you a question or give you permission." "But..." He slipped his hand into my pubic bush, then grabbed a handful and almost picked me up off the bed by my pubic hair. "Are you that stupid?" He asked me. He began to twist his handful of pubic hair. "I ask you a question, slut." "NO" I screamed in pain. "Then why," He asked as He released His grip on my pubic hair then gently rubbed my pubic bush like He was trying to erase the pain He had just caused, "don't you follow the simple rules I lay out for you?" He looked at me quizzically, then began to tighten his grip on my pubic hair when I did not answer quickly enough. "I don't know." I sobbed. To my own astonishment my cunt continued to beg for a fucking through all of this pain and humiliation. If anything my need grew stronger with the pain and humiliation. "Of course you don't." He said, once again soothing my pubic region with gentle massage. "We can't expect a slutty little cunt to know why she does anything." He moved His hand lower, curling one finger over my clit and into my sopping wet cunt. My pelvis spasmed and jerked my cunt up against the invading finger. "Oh, does my lil slut want to be fucked?" He teased me as He sank a second finger into me. "Yessssss.' I hissed in utter desperation. "Yesss, please fuck me." I begged with no regard for how slutty I sounded. Still fucking his fingers in and out of my cunt He moved around and knelt on the bed beside my head. Leaning over, He pushed the head of his hard cock against my lips. "You've got to suck me first." He announced, as He pulled His fingers from my wet cunt and teased my clit with the tip of one finger. I spread my lips and sucked His cock into my hot wet mouth more eagerly than I had ever welcomed a cock before. With expert precision He flicked my clit and kept me right on the brink of orgasm while I sucked His hard cock deeper and deeper into my mouth. I had never "deep throated' a man before. I had always gagged and pulled back, so I was completely surprised when my nose was tickled by His kinky pubic hair. In my lust and need to be fucked I had taken Him into my throat without gagging. With His right hand He continued teasing my clit. With His left hand supporting Him self He began to pump his cock in and out of my open mouth. I could feel the head of his hard cock fucking in and out of my throat with each stroke. Having my mouth fucked like it was a cunt turned out to be not so difficult after all. I just relaxed and swirled my tongue over as much of His cock shaft as I could reach. That and sucking in a breath of air every time his cock head was pulled out far enough to allow it. Every time His finger flicked across my swollen clit I'd moan against His cock in frustration. I kept thinking that if He'd just flicked it a hundredth of a second sooner I'd have cum. As I moved my hips trying to push my clit harder against His teasing finger I could feel a large wet spot already developing on the bed under my ass. He moaned a deep growly moan and pushed His cock as far down my throat as it would go. I felt it twitching deep in my throat as He pumped cum directly into my stomach. I began to panic, my air was cut off and He seemed to be in no hurry to let His "lil slut' breath again. My body began to buck against Him in desperation. Finally He slowly pulled His cock from deep in my throat and I gasped for air. I laid on the bed panting for a few minutes before I came to the conclusion that He must be right. I must be one of the world's biggest sluts. I'd just had my mouth raped and my need to be fucked was stronger and more urgent than ever. I didn't want to get slapped again (although as I thought back on it I realized that each slap was accompanied by a renewed flow of lubricant in my cunt) so I stayed quite and waited to see what He was going to do next. I began to gyrate my hips, with my legs spread, hoping to entice him with the sluttiness of my display. I felt both humiliated and excited by the slutty display I was putting on trying to get Him to notice my aching need to be fucked. I was encouraged by the fact that His cock stayed hard even after dumping a load down my throat, but my hopes for an immediate fucking disappeared when He turned and walked from the room. I pulled on my wrist restraints, but they were tight and I could not get my hands loose. All I would have done if I could have gotten a hand loose is to fuck my own cunt. He walked back into the room. "Oh God no." I screamed when I saw what He was carrying. I crossed my legs to hide my wet cunt and pulled my elbows in trying to cover my tits while I attempted to turn my body away from him. He held His Polaroid SX70 camera up and grinned at me. "No!" I yelled at him, "No, you're not going to take pictures of me like this." God, how could I allow pictures like this? No telling what would be done with them. I'd just die if any of my family or friends saw them. I could just imagine the snickering and whispered name-calling I'd have to suffer through if they got out at work. My reputation would be ruined. My parents would have heart attacks if they saw them. Never in my life, I told myself, would I cooperate with this picture taking. I waited, expecting a slap on the but, or for him to sit down on the bed and try to talk me into letting him take the pictures. Other men had tried to talk me into it and I'd never allowed them to. To my surprise He stepped over to the foot of the bed and grabbed my left ankle (the one on top) and pulled my legs apart as easily as I would have a wishbone. Holding my leg up He pointed the camera at my crotch and pushed the shutter button. The flash went off directly into my eyes since I had been looking directly into the camera without realizing it. I heard the whir of the camera's motor and the square undeveloped picture popped out. He took the picture from the camera and sat on the foot of the bed with his back to me. Realizing that He was going to take the pictures whether I wanted him to or not, I began to cry softly. I wanted to burrow my face into the mattress, but I could not get turned over that far. "Please," I begged him softly letting my sobs be heard hoping to soften his heart. "Please don't take pictures of me like this." I waited a minute for a response then continued. "You said it was just a game...I don't want this to be part of the game." "Did I ask you a question?" He finally responded without turning around. "No." I answered meekly. "Then shut the fuck up." He barked at me. "I don't give a damn what you want or don't want to be part of the game." He turned and looked at me in a way that actually scared me. "I say what's in the game and what's not." He grabbed my ankle again and pulled me onto my back. "You just do as your fucking told." He held the developed picture up where I could see it. I was amazed, the surprised look on my face was almost comical. But what really startled me was how clearly you could see the wetness shining on my cunt lips, pubic hair, and even the tops of my inner thighs. It was obvious that I was incredibly turned on by what was being done to me. "Now," He continued as He pinned the picture up on the wall where I could see it but would not be able to reach it. "I have a picture that proves what a dirty little slut you are, so you might as well cooperate with the rest of them." He grinned at me. "You know I'll take them anyway." He was right, I reasoned, what use was there in fighting it. "Lift your legs and spread them just as far as you can." He ordered. Even though I had decided that cooperation was the best policy it took all of my will power to force my legs up and apart. I watched as He moved the camera in close, about a foot from my cunt and snapped another picture. Then He moved back and took a picture looking up between my lifted and separated legs so my tits and face could be seen framed by my cunt and my spread legs. "Lick your lips and give the camera lens the sluttiest look you can manage." I licked my lips and tried to look slutty for the camera. To my amazement I was beginning to ooze cunt juice again. My nipples were rock hard and I was really enjoying looking slutty for the camera. I knew these pictures would give Him a level of control over my life that no one else had ever had and, I suddenly admitted to myself, I loved it. Suddenly a feeling of freedom and liberation flowed over my body. I spread my legs even further, tried harder to look like a whore and a slut for Him. "Fifty dollars for a fuck?" I said playing out the part of the whore. He laughed at me. I felt crushed and humiliated. "Fifty dollars?" He asked sarcastically. "You're a ten dollar whore." I felt like crying. I didn't mind being a whore for Him, but I wanted to be at least a fifty-dollar whore. I thought of myself as a classy call girl type, well dressed, seeing an exclusive clientele. He pushed my legs even further apart, then spread my cunt lips apart with his fingers so he could take a picture looking right down into my still wet pussy. "You my dear are a ten dollar whore. A slut walking the streets willing to do anything any man wants for ten dollars." He turned and walked out of the room leaving me leaking tears and staring at the bright light in the ceiling. I didn't want to be a ten-dollar whore, but what choice did I have? As it stood He could actually sell me for ten dollars and I couldn't stop Him. A moment later He came back into the room and pushed a folded up ten-dollar bill into my wet cunt then took several pictures of it. There was no question what those pictures communicated. They went up on the wall with the rest of the pictures and He left the room again. Leaving me with the ten-dollar bill still in my cunt. He came back moments later with a can of shaving cream and a couple of towels. After pulling the now wet ten-dollar bill from my pussy he squirted the cream on my pubies and began to rub it in. I had never had my pubic hair shaved before. I had always thought it was a really slutty thing to do. I mean what good decent girl would shave of her pubic hair and expose her cunt. I tried to picture what I was going to look like without my pubic hair. I pictured a bare "little girl' looking slit with my wet pouty cunt lips sticking out saying "hi' to the world. Once He had me "all lathered up' He produced that menacing looking bowie knife from underneath the bed. I started to pull away when it approached my crotch, then decided I'd better lay still and let Him do what He wanted to. The process of having my pubic hair scraped off with that huge gleaming bowie knife ignited my passion once again. The pulling on the skin, His hands pulling my pussy this way and that to get at my pubic hair soon had my cunt dripping more than ever. He finished the shave and after wiping off the remnants of the shaving lotion with a towel, ran his hands over my crotch to test its smoothness. God, I never expected the wonderful feeling of his warm hands on my now bare skin. When he wasn't touching me I could feel every little air current that wafted by my cunt. My clit stuck out above my wet cunt lips and begged for attention. After taking several minutes to feel the smoothness of my freshly shaved skin He ran his hand down over my cunt, curling one of his fingers into my hot oh so wet pussy. I moaned loudly with the pleasure of his hand on my bare skin and his finger probing into me. "Oh god please fuck me." I begged on the verge of crying from frustration. He moved his finger in and out of me a few more times then removed his hand from my crotch. "No," he said, "you're not ready yet." I began to cry, I cried like a little baby and begged Him to fuck me. He watched me cry and smiled that wicked smile that sends chills down my spine even today then turned and left the room again. I crossed my legs and rubbed my thighs together trying to bring myself to orgasm. He must have been watching me, He came back into the room just before I started to cum. "Stop that you dirty little whore." He bellowed so loud that it made me jump. I had closed my eyes both because of the bright light and to help with my fantasy while I rubbed my legs together. My fantasy had been simple He was fucking me hard and fast instead of leaving me chained and frustrated while he played with me and tortured me with pleasure. He stormed across the room and ordered me to spread my legs. "If you close your legs you will really be sorry." He warned me I spread my legs as ordered and watched as He produced a yard stick from behind His back and in one motion slammed it down across my cunt. I remember I screamed. I also remember I came, hard, harder than I ever had before in my life. As He pulled the yardstick back and prepared to slam it down on my cunt again I felt my clit and my cunt lips throbbing. The orgasmic wave subsided and it took all of my will power to hold my legs apart while I waited for the second blow from the yardstick. I wanted to close my legs. I wanted to protect my tender flesh from the bite and sting of that cruel wood stick. I don't remember how many times he brought that yardstick down on my clit and pussy. I only remember that each time it hurt worse than anything I'd ever felt. It hurt, but it also sent waves of orgasmic pleasure through my body. I'd heard about pain and pleasure mixing together but until that moment I had never really believed that it was true. Don't get me wrong it hurt like a bitch, but that pain drove my orgasm to levels of intensity I never new existed. And to be truthful, the intensity of those orgasms scared me more than the pain of the pussy spanking. The intensity of the orgasms scared me because I new from the very first blow of that yardstick on my freshly shaved cunt that I was addicted to those intense orgasms and that I would do anything, and I mean anything, to have them again. I also knew beyond any doubt that if He could make me cum like that then I would be his slave forever. After the last blow he turned and walked out of the room leaving me writhing naked on the bare mattress. My cunt hurt from the blows and I was panting from multiple orgasms but I still had an over whelming need to be fucked. Even the most intense cum does not satisfy my need to have a cock slamming into my cunt. Eventually I fell into an uneasy sleep and began to dream. In my dream I was moaning loudly and desperately for a fuck. He came into the room and set up a table with a cash register on it. Through the open door I could see a line of men stretching out to the horizon. He started calling in a loud voice like a carnival barker. "Step right up and ride the whore. Only ten dollars per ride. Step right up. Pay your Ten spot and ride the slut." In my dream I as so desperate for a fuck that I could hardly wait for the first man to climb onto me. The dream dissolved into a surrealistic montage of men climbing onto me to "ride the whore', His voice urging them to pay their ten bucks for a slut ride, and Him occasionally stopping the men to take a picture of my cunt. After labeling each picture with the number of men who had fucked me and the amount of money collected, He would pin them up on the wall then go back to the cash register. With all these men climbing on and off of me in the dream you'd think my need to be fucked would get satisfied, but it only made it worse. The feeling of frustration kept building. It seemed that the more the men in the dream fucked me the more desperate I got for a real fuck. Suddenly I snapped awake hearing my own voice screaming at him to fuck me. I laid on the bed, my hands and neck still chained to the headboard, and stared at the bright light directly over me. My breathing was hard and raspy. I squeezed my thighs together realizing that I needed to pee, desperately. I was going to have to call to him and tell him that. I put it off as long as I could. Having to tell him that I needed to pee was just too humiliating. You need to understand I've always had problems with going to the bathroom. If I think anyone will be able to hear the pee hitting the water I always turn on the faucet and the exhaust fan if there is one. At work I tell my co-workers that I'm going to get a coke then stop by the bathroom on the way back. Even at home when He was there, even if we'd just fucked, I'd close the door and turn on the water and the fan before I would pee. I always thought men were lucky, they could aim their pee at the porcelain above the water line so no one would hear them. Finally I had to call to him. If I waited any longer I'd pee on the bed, and I just knew that He'd make me lay in it all night. I yelled out "Hey, I've got to pee'. It seemed like an hour passed, I was squeezing my legs together trying not to dribble on the bed. I was just about to yell again when He walked into the room. I could tell immediately that this was going to be embarrassing, he was carrying a large metal pot and his camera. He untied my hands then loosened the chain attached to my collar. I was led to the foot of the brass bed then told to squat with my back against the foot of the bed. He made me reach over my shoulders and hold on to the brass footboard. Then he pushed my elbows and my knees as far apart as he could get them. I could feel my face burning with embarrassment already. He stood back and snapped a couple of pictures of me kneeling with my legs spread. All I could think of was how humiliating this was going to be. That, and how much I wanted Him to fuck me. He placed the metal pot under me, then produced a small recorder from the pocket of His sweat pants and after starting it running placed it right beside the metal pot. Then he stood there looking at me. Watching me and waiting. I could see His cock growing inside his pants. I looked up at His face and saw the superior looking smirk on His mouth. Despite the desperateness of my need to pee, I couldn't relax and let it flow. Every time I started to relax I would think about the sound it was going to make hitting that empty metal put underneath me, and I'd clamp down again. He reached down and began to stroke himself through His sweat pants while He watched me struggling with my humiliation and need to pee. Finally the need to pee overcame my humiliation and embarrassment and I relaxed. The sound of my pee hitting the bottom of the pot seemed to be louder than anything I'd ever heard. He immediately began to take pictures as fast as the camera would operate. Close ups of the pee squirting our of me and overall shots showing my red face looking directly into the camera. It seemed like the stream of pee splashing into the metal pot would go on forever. When it was finally over He dabbed me dry with a handkerchief, it felt like a jolt of high voltage electricity surged through my body when he touched me. Then picked up the pot and recorder and walked out of the room. He had not given me permission to move so I stayed, kneeling against the foot of the bed holding onto the brass railing over my shoulders with my legs and knees as far open as I could hold them. When He came back into the room, He walked over and stood in front of me I looked up into his intense eyes. I wanted to beg him to fuck me. I momentarily thought that he was going to pee on me and the thought sent an unexpected thrill through me. He pulled His hard cock out of his pants and pushed it up against my lips. I sucked him eagerly into my mouth. I'd always loved sucking on his cock, and I'd always loved the taste of his cum. The only problem was that I was aching to be fucked. I felt it like a physical need, like hunger, like thirst. I don't know how to get across to you how much of this was a real physical need, not just a desire. I admit, I whimpered like a dog when he pulled his cock out of my mouth. God, I thought, if your not going to fuck me at least let me suck on it. He pulled me to my feet and after turning me around pushed me forward over the brass railing. My head, tits and stomach were lying on the bare mattress. I spread my legs in eager anticipation. At last, I thought He's going to fuck me. I felt the head of his cock rubbing up and done my wet cunt lips. Don't tease me, I thought, I can't stand it. I felt like I'd die if he didn't push His cock inside me. "Does my little slut want to be fucked?" He asked me teasingly. "Oh god yes," I answered, "please fuck me." "What are you willing to do to get fucked?" His tone became much more serious. "Anything," I whimpered, "god I'll do anything for you just fuck me." I continued to beg. "Tell me what," He demanded continuing to tease me with his cockhead, "and be specific." "Every thing I have," a sobbed, "you can have it all." "Will you give your body to me?" he asked. "Forever?" "Yes, it's yours." I answered without hesitation. "Will you give me your soul?" he asked with total seriousness. "Yes, it's yours." I felt a sudden release inside me. I realized that this was what I'd wanted for years. Total submission to a man. "Yes, I'll gladly trade my freedom and dignity for a fuck." I finished. It must have pleased Him, He sank His large hard cock into me in one powerful thrust. I felt like I was being taken more thoroughly than I had ever been taken before and I started cuming before he was done with His first stroke. The rest of that fuck is pretty much a blur in my memory. I was cuming the whole time. I remember I screamed repeatedly for him to fuck me harder and harder. I remember promising over and over to be His slut, His whore, His slave. I fucked myself back onto his cock with more enthusiasm than I'd shown for a fuck in many years. I screamed every dirty, filthy, slutty, whorish thing I could think of while he pounded into me like a jackhammer. I don't remember the fuck ending. I just remember that sometime later I was lying in His arms on the bed. I was still chained by the neck to the brass rail on the headboard, but I no longer cared. He could keep me chained there as long as He wanted. I snuggled into His neck and kissed gently just below His ear. Then I whispered "thank you Master'. I didn't have to be instructed to call Him "Master'. I new down to my very core that He was my Master and that He always would be. ---------------------------------- The other day upon the stair I met a man who wasn't there He wasn't there again today I wish I wish he'd go away
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