Aphrodisiac's Stories

Link to Chapter 1  

Keith ravaged my virgin ass the night before, then promptly went to bed. I passed out on the kitchen floor in a puddle of my sweat and Keith's cum with more of his cum slowly leaking out of my ass. I woke up the next morning to a foot in my side. Keith stood looming over me.

"Where's my breakfast, slut?" He demanded. I scurried about making him bacon and eggs while he sat at the table outlining what would become my new morning routine.

"My morning should start with your mouth on my cock. I'm tired of alarm clocks. Get used to giving blowjobs. Then breakfast, you'll need to ask me the night before what I want and whether I want it in bed or not. While I'm at work, you need to keep the house clean, starting with that (he pointed to the sticky spot where I had collapsed the night before). Also, join a gym and take yoga or something. I want you fit and flexible. I'm going to fuck you while you bend over backwards for me sometime. As for fucking, no more "headaches" or "I'm tired" or even being on your period. I'm taking you when I want, and if you're on your period, I'll take your ass. I'll be coming up with some formal set of rules sometime later, but that's enough for now."

I nodded my assent to this long list of demands.

"Now for my morning blowjob. Your ass will pay if it's not to my liking."

I kneeled and put my mouth to work while he calmly finished his eggs. It's hard to explain, but even though the thought of his penis in my mouth still repulsed me, I enjoyed it this time. It had something to do with knowing I was his slave, and I was performing my purpose of serving him, and that's all that mattered. Maybe this was what love and devotion meant for me, serving him in whatever way he wanted.

Her head was bobbing at a satisfactory rate. She didn't seem to mind as much as last night, then again I wasn't ramming it down her throat. I swallowed my last bite of eggs, and she started swallowing her first mouthful or sperm. I zipped, picked up my briefcase and headed out the door. Life was good. I'd have some slow afternoon sex with Blaire during a "conference meeting", and then head home to a slave waiting to do my every bidding. At work I kept getting compliments and people asking me if I had lost weight or cut my hair or what not. I realized later that day it was the added confidence in my stride knowing one person thought so much of me she answered to my every whim. Jim, one of my co-workers, asked what was up.

"It's my wife."

"Oh? Been a while since she put out?"

"Well... she found out about Blaire."

"You sound pretty happy about it..."

"She agreed to become my sex slave if I stayed with her." Jim paused stunned.

"Well, that's a little odd."

"Why don't you come tonight and watch, say at 8?"

"That's weird, man. What you do with your wife is your business."

"She's my slave now, besides I know you think she's hot."

"Well..."

"If you come tonight, some day I might let her give you a bj."

"You said she doesn't give those?"

"She does now. She does whatever I want."

And that convinced him. On the way home, I picked some items up for Kara at the local sex toy shop for our play that evening.

Walking in the door, I met Kara kneeling in the middle of the hall with her head bowed and wearing a skimpy blue cocktail dress. I was stunned, taken a back a bit at how sudden she had taken to her new role. She came to me, took my briefcase, as well as my bag from my shopping, and set them down on the counter. Then she guided me to my chair in the living room and took my shoes off for me. The smell of chicken pot pie wafted to me from the kitchen. The table was set for one, and I was pleased. I instructed her to pour herself a portion into a bowl and eat on the floor at my feet. When we were done, I watched tv as she cleaned. After finishing, she came in and looked at me expectantly. Waiting to be commanded to give a blowjob or kiss my feet or something, no doubt.

"Take a shower and shave your snatch. Then come out here before you dress, I have something for you."

I nodded obediently and headed off. Shaving my pubic hair was a relatively small change in the scheme of things even though I would've protested at the suggestion a week ago. Half an hour later, I presented myself to him, and he inspected me. He asked me to bring the razor out here, and he took care of a few spots I missed. It was a different feeling, being totally bare there. It felt cold, but baby smooth to the touch. I felt very naked.

"Now for your gifts."

I brightened up even if I knew not to hope too much. The first item he pulled out of the bag was a ball gag harness, and I knew not to hope at all. It fit uncomfortably in my mouth, then he fixed it into place with straps running from the corners of my mouth to over the bridge of my nose that obstructed my vision. Then he collared me with a fleece lined collar with a leash attached. He next brought out a pair of high heels that were one size too small and two inches higher than anything I had previously won. Then a corset with the lacing down the back which he tied tighter than I wished. The last item was a sheath which encased both my arms together up to the elbow behind my back. He led me by the leash to a mirror, and I surveyed myself.

The ball gag kept my mouth obscenely open, and lines of drool were already beginning to form. The straps from it made me look like a muzzled dog. I was several inches taller with the heels, but considerably less stable. Obviously Keith wasn't going for a stable look. The corset gave me the coveted hourglass look, but left me a little short of breath with the result you could see me breasts heaving at each breath. My arms disappeared behind my back, the sheath pulling them back. The collar around my neck was a slim and simplistic piece of leather, and then my eyes followed the leash to the one holding it, my master.

"You look exactly like I wanted." The doorbell rang right at the moment, and I could see the panic spring into her eyes. It was eight o'clock, and she was unprepared for any visitors.

"Answer the door," I ordered. She shook her head and started to form words of protest only to be prevented by her gag, causing more drool to run down the corners of her mouth. I took out a switch which I had conveniently purchased this afternoon and smacked her breasts, and a bright red line quickly appeared. Her mumbled protest faded to quiet whimpering as I raised my arm for a second time. She walked clumsily to the door stumbling several times in her new footwear. I trailed behind her still holding the leash. At the door, I pushed her to her knees and opened the door.

Jim, who I had met twice before at Keith's company Christmas parties, stood there with his mouth open. From behind me, I heard Keith invite him in, and he brushed past me on his way.

"Close the door, bitch." Keith told me. The words sounded ever harsher with an outsider to observe them. He then led us to the living room, but the combination of the leash and the heels led to me falling down when I got up from kneeling. I struggled to right myself, but found it difficult without the use of my hands. Keith openly laughed at me, and even Jim let loose a few nervous chuckles. After a few failed attempts by me, Keith told Jim to help me. He reached for the sheath which held my arms, but Keith told him to use my hair. So this stranger who I met twice pulled me up by my ponytail that came out from the harness of my gag. My face was beet-red with humiliation once again.

We finally made it to the living room, and Keith and Jim sat down, while I went into the kitchen to get drinks. When I came back in they were talking about me. The size of my breasts, the shape of my ass, how I became Keith's slave. They started comparing me to other women, sometimes favorably, sometimes not. Claire came up several times, and that always ended up with an unfavorable comparison for me. All this time I stood there, fetching them drinks when needed, but otherwise ignored. Then Keith started talking about how I was in bed, again sometimes boasting, sometimes belittling my skill. They felt me up some, and finally Keith offered to demonstrate my skills "in the sack." First, he took out the ball in the gag leaving the harness there, and he facefucked me. Constantly, pulling out and slapping my face with his cock. My face was a mess of my drool, his cum, and makeup. I gagged several times before he finally ejaculated down my throat.

I got them another round of drinks, and Keith set me to kissing his feet until he was ready to go. Jim watched in amazement as I made out with Keith's toes, threading my tongue between each one. After several minutes of that, Keith reached down and brought my head back to his crotch where I licked until he had an erection. Then he turned me around and pushed my head to the ground. I shamefully raised my hips instinctfully. Pleas for him to fuck me came unbidden to my tongue. Partly, my desire since I hadn't orgasmed last night. Partly, my conditioning from Keith's training. I was anxious to feel his cock. Would it be on my pussy lips or at my ass, I wondered.

Her face was buried in the carpet, her hips raised into the air, and now she was begging me to do her. I looked over at Jim who was impressed with my display of prowess over this helpless female . I lined up my cock with her pussy, then thought again. My cock was resting in the cleft of her ass now, and I looked again at Jim who now looked doubtful, and I rammed it home.

I felt it, but at the wrong place. His hips swung, and his cock hammered home. I muffled my scream of pain into the carpet, but then my sexually hungry body took over. I humped my ass back onto his cock.

I felt her hump back, and I let her do a few strokes so Jim could witness my continued mastery. Then I leaned over her, grabbed her ponytail, and drilled her ass. I rode her, feeling her body react to mine, thrusting in time, and her moans and groans.

I felt his hot cum erupt in my bowels, and I felt an orgasm come upon me. My body shook, and I experienced my first anal orgasm not mention one of my few orgasms ever. I collapsed, but then Keith grabbed my head by the hair and wiped his cum off on my face. Then he said goodbye to Jim who left blueballed.

I should've seen it sooner. The odd glances and whispers at the office parties. The unexplained and sudden business trips. The stern disposition he affected when I visited him at his office. The disinterest in me, and the seeming boredom in our romantic life… Then again the boredom and disinterest had been there a lot longer than what brought this about. Perhaps what kept me in the dark so long was our unabated sex life. It was boring, I admit, but regular (two or three times a week), Keith would climb on me missionary-style for a little five minute rut, business trips notwithstanding. This all changed when I found he had been cheating on me.

We were at an office party, and I had by then accepted the whispers and stares as my own self-consciousness. But midway through the party, a wife of one of Keith's coworker came over and told me in a hushed, confidential tone that perhaps I should see what Keith was up to. My search for him found me peaking through a cracked bedroom door behind, which Keith was showing our five minute love-making sessions to be the quickies they were. His secretary's legs firmly wrapped around his back, he humped slowly and steadily into her. To my near-virgin eyes (Keith being the only man I'd been with), it appeared evident they were aways from being finished despite seemingly having been at it for a while as well as they obviously were quite familiar with each other in such an intimate fashion. I left quickly and quietly, torn up inside.

The rest of the party was a blur of mixed feelings. Maybe I should've left, but I didn't. Riding home silently in the car that night, I was going back and forth on plotting on how to win back my wayward husband's heart and planning his death.

She insisted on sex that night. A rarity that I took advantage despite my earlier adventures at the office party. Kara, like any wife, rarely asked for sex, occasionally refused it on basis of a "headache" or being "tired", but for the most part put up with it. She came to bed in one of those silky baby doll lingerie pieces I routinely gave her for Valentine's and anniversaries, but she never wore. I smelled a scent of perfume on her that hadn't been there before at the office party. And she appeared to have touched up her makeup and hair, though I was never sure about those things. Altogether, she was an arousing sight. At 5'6" and probably 135 pounds, she could afford to lose a little weight, but for the most part it was in the right places. Wide doe brown eyes and honey brown hair down past her shoulders and ample (but not large) cone-shaped tits describes her pretty well.

Lounging on the bed, I was enjoying this strange twist of events. Kara insisting on sex, then doing herself up for it (although I suppose that's to be expected of women). I was expecting the our traditional five minute quickie, maybe tack on another five minutes due to the special circumstances, then we'd roll over and go to sleep. Business as usual in the Carter household. Then crawling onto the bed, she dipped her head down to my growing man-member and started licking. This caught me by surprise as Kara is revolted by blowjobs and had only tried twice before, and both times rushed to the bathroom with claims of nausea. This time she pleasantly succeeded in getting the head into her throat and keeping it there, even managing to bob up and down a couple of times. She paled in comparison to Blaire, who I couldn't help comparing her to. Still, a pleasant experience nonetheless. After a couple of minutes of her mouth ministering to my cock, she got up and sat on me in the cow-girl position--the first time she had done something besides missionary position since she refused doggy-style calling it degrading. After a couple of minutes of her slow strokes despites my encouraging hands on her hips, we were going no where; so I turned her over and finished it off in missionary. Boring, but hey, I had work in the morning. I came, and she either orgasmed or faked one. I couldn't tell and didn't really care. All in all, it took ten minutes. Pretty good for the wife.

Then she started talking. We had scarcely talked it all after leaving for the party besides the bare minimum, and Kara's little suggestion to have sex (I didn't take much convincing), and also we never talk after sex, so I was understandably surprised.

"See I can be a good lover."

"What?"

"I can be a good lover, too."

My stomach rolled. She knew. But why sex? A cruel stab before leaving? A final lay until she finds another man? Maybe we could make up… And then it started pouring out of her.

I decided to try to win him back. I loved Keith, all 180 pounds of his handsome 6'2" frame. I had even resorted to sucking him off, keeping on even with my stomach rising higher each second his penis was in my mouth. And I had even used a different position, before he pulled me back into the missionary position.

"I know I need to lose weight. I'm going to start dieting. If you want sex more often, we can do that. And you wanted me to find more recipes you like, I'll do that. And you don't have to mow the lawn anymore, I'll take care of that while I'm cleaning the house."

I was babbling now, and I knew it—offering everything that I had to offer.

At first, I was panic-stricken. Just the shock of having my affair discovered. Then the pang of fear that came with the thought of divorce. Not that Kara meant that much to me, but I was a wealthy man with my job, and I wasn't anxious to lose half of it. Then I realized she was begging pathetically to make up. Stunned, I let her go on.

"And if you want a no-fault divorce, we can do that. But anything I can do to stay with you, I'll do." I stopped as I realized the second to last thing I had said. Oh, well, he probably realizes how desperate I am now anyway. If not, surely the last would tell him.

Relief hit even further at the thought of a no-fault divorce. Blaire would be happy with that. Then her last sentence… "Anything", that sent thoughts running through my head. Specifically:

"What about anal sex? And that bj?"

I wasn't even thinking just nodding furiously. I hadn't even let him try anal, as I had heard horror stories from my girlfriends of the pain and bleeding anuses, but pain would be a small price to pay to keep my husband.

"Let's sleep on it, and we'll talk about it tomorrow."

I told Blaire the whole story when I got into work the next day. I know having an affair with your secretary is so passé, but Blaire was a blonde, blue-eyed beauty aged 23 whose curves would take some serious calculus to figure out. She was also kinky and was always reading the Kamra Sutra or the Training of O or some other sex book. I didn't really keep track.

"She said 'anything'?"

"Yup." I said a little cocky at the power I held over my wife.

"Then do it."

"Do what?"

"Anything. Throatfuck her until she gags, fuck her ass, make her kiss your feet if you want. Just make sure she knows her place, then let her know I'm going to stay in her life."

"And what's her place?"

"At your feet, her nose buried in your pubic nose as you shove your fat cock down her tender throat. Make her your fucking slave."

When I woke up Keith was already gone, at work with Blaire no doubt, and at that thought, the pangs of jealousy shot through me once again. I wondered at the things I had offered. Being a virgin before meeting Keith, I had no idea about his size relative to other men, but during normal sex he filled me, I wasn't looking forward to having his thick tool plumbing my bowels. The rest of the day, I alternated between moping around the house, wondering how I could compete with a girl five years younger than me, thinking if maybe I should divorce Keith, and doing setups in the vain hope I could lose the ten pounds I needed to before Keith got home. Finally with a couple of hours left before Keith usually returned from work, I got dinner going and started preparing myself—shaving my legs, shampooing my hair two times over, putting my little black dress on (when in doubt, go with the classic), then probably an hour alone on my makeup with trips to the kitchen in-between to keep the meal from burning.

At 6:30, Keith walked in. Everything was ready, and I was waiting by the door. I stood in anticipation is he walked through, watching his mouth for the words that would come through that would determine where we stand.

"If you really mean everything, and I think you did, then I think we can stay together."

I sighed with relief and ran up to him giving him a kiss, then bending down to help him with his shoes and coat. When I straightened up, he spoke again.

"Let's start by you taking off that dress."

I was surprised at first, but after a momentary hesitation, I pulled it over my head.

"And your underwear."

I did that too. It felt strange standing there nude in my dressy heels, while he was fully dressed, but I guess that's what he wanted.

"Now serve me dinner."

By the tone of his voice, I could hear that serving him dinner probably did not include eating any of my own, but I did so. He ate in silence with me filling his glass after every sip and fetching everything at his command.

"Now time for you to eat."

I was surprised he was giving me this opportunity, but as I was lowering myself to take my seat, I realized he meant differently than I thought. He grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me down to my knees in front of him, eye-level with his zipper. I tentatively opened his pants and pulled out his cock. As I slowly inserted it into my mouth, he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my mouth all the way down. He pushed until I felt his cock pushing my gag reflex. Being ordered to relax and swallow, I did the best I could, and his hands in my hair did the rest bringing his cock into my throat—my nose poking into his pubic hair. He pulled back and forth, raping my throat with his thick tool, occasionally he'd bring it out of my mouth to slap me with it, only to push it forcefully back in. A couple of minutes later, my face already coated with my own drool, he came down my throat then wiped himself off in my hair.

"You want me to stay?"

You may think I'm dumb not to have seen this coming, but it was then I realized this wasn't just a momentary to thing to win him back, but if Keith stayed, this would be the new status quo. Me on my knees serving him as he gave me cruel orders. And… that's what I wanted.

"Yes, please stay." I begged, whining almost, still terrified at the thought of losing him.

"Beg. Beg for me to take you. Beg for me to fuck you up the ass."

I whimpered. This was it. He was cruelly commanding me to offer myself in a most vulnerable way—to be taken violently in an unnatural way.

"Please… Please do it. Take me… fuck me even."

"Then kiss my feet."

I bet and kissed his feet, kissing my last dignity goodbye as well. I wasn't just pressing my lips lightly against his ankle either; I was smothering his foot, his toes, his heel with the caresses of my lips and the lapping of my tongue.

I looked down with pride at the woman at my feet. Only earlier this week, she had peacefully co-existed with me as an equal; now, she begged me to take her, bending her head to my feet. I grabbed her by the hair, pulling her up. Leading her to the open kitchen, I pushed her to the floor. She was on the hard, aching tile, but I'd be on her soft, tender body. Her elbows and knees pressed to the ground, she lifted her hips up, rising her ass in the air. I aimed my dick up with her tight and crinkled anus and attempted to ram it in. I was still slick with saliva and cum from her earlier bj, but her ass was tight. A quiet plop was heard then as the head of my prick pushed past the anal ring into her bowels. She muffled a yelp from the pain. I rode her like a horse, one hand in her hair using her tresses as reins, the other mauling her tender tits and sensitive nipples—something I dared not do before because of her complaints. After a few minutes of humping against her, I came. My cum slowly oozing out of her ass. She collapsed panting to the ground, and I rose, standing over my new fucking slave.

I first met Nick on a tour of the offices that the firm gave to all the prospective recruits. We were competing even then for the two spots that our prestigious law firm had open that year. At first sight, we didn't get along. He went to Harvard for his undergrad, and I went to the arch rival Yale. He seemed to me that he thought himself God's gift to women, and he probably thought of me as one of those women who "had" to prove I could make it in a man's world.

We both won that first competition, thanks to the two open spots. But it's been head-to-head since then. Stuff like the first to pass the bar (me by 20 minutes), the first to get a secretary (he did), the first primary lawyer on an account (me), the first to a corner office (him), and throughout this all the competition to see who could get the most clients and the better cases. Early on, I held my own, but it seemed of late that he was winning an increasing amount of the time.

Then the most important contest of them all arose. A partnership in our firm was available, and Nick and I were the front-runners. A four-week long process consisting of interviews of clients, co-workers, and ourselves as well as reviews of our past work was undertaken. This all culminated in December, and the decision was to be announced at the office Christmas party.

The night was off to bad start when moments after walking in, Nick caught me under the mistletoe. He slipped me the tongue as well as copping a generous feel of my ass leaving me a little flustered. But as the evening wore on, I started enjoying myself. The wine was flowing, and I was one of the few single women at the firm while there was plenty of men (both single and not), so I went getting plenty of attention in my little black dress. There was music and dancing, which was fun, except for Nick. It wouldn't exactly look good to the partners if I turned him down, but he always danced a little closer than I was comfortable with. Close enough that the combination of my 5'7" height and his 6'1" frame meant I was looking straight up, and he seemed like he was staring straight down... into my cleavage.

Then the announcement came. The senior partner chimed his cup, and called... Nick forward. I nearly lost my composure. I was seething, so I downed a couple more glasses of wine. Shortly after, it was getting closer to the end of the evening, and I was feeling a little tipsy. Nick approached me.

"You lose again, Kate."

"Yes." I nodded, then managed to squeak out a congratulations. But that wasn't what he was looking for.

"Looks like I keep fucking you over, doesn't it?" He said with a smirk on his face.

I shrugged, biting my lip not to say anything job-threatening. He was my superior now.

"You know what would be fun? Really fucking you over."

I blushed then turned to leave.

"Can you picture yourself with my cum over my face?" He taunted. He obviously had his share of alcohol tonight too. As he said that though, that very image appeared unbidden in my head. Me naked kneeling in front of him with white sticky goo covering my face. I froze with my back towards him. It was kind of hot actually.

"Why not? You've already lost the best cases and clients to me, and now, the partnership. Why not go ahead and give me everything else?"

I stood frozen, unbelieving I was considering such a thing, but I was. No doubt due to the late hour, the wine, not being laid in a while, and that musky scent he was wearing. Meh, the scent probably had nothing to do with it.

At the moment, one of the other partners walked up, shook Nick's hand in congratulations. He was midway through asking if everything was alright between us, when Nick assured him, then grabbed me by the arm, and escorted me to his car. He helped me into his sports car, and we headed to his place.

"You made the right decision, slut."

No one called me slut. No one I worked with, and definitely, no one I slept with. But that was about to change.

We got to his house, and he led me into the living room, where he promptly took a seat and left me standing there.

"I want to see you strip." He commanded. I nodded and began doing so. He critiqued me as I did, everything from how I took off my shoes to the complexion of my nipples. It was embarrassing, but I kept on. When I was done and completely nude, he snapped his fingers, motioning me to come.

"Give me a bj, then I'm going to give you that pearl necklace I promised."

I knelt, unzipped him, and slowly inserted his cock into my mouth. Swirling my tongue around it, I could feel it growing. Apparently he had enough of the take-it-slow treatment, Nick shoved me onto my back, sitting on my chest, he started thrusting in my mouth. Movements later, he pulled out and exploded on my face as he promised. He laughed at me. It's a horribly embarrassing and humiliating thing to be laughed at while you're having sex. He reached out his hand and smeared even more the cum across my face, chuckling still, then offering me his fingers to lick, which I did.

Getting up, he pulled me by the hair. "C'mon, bitch. I'm not done with you yet." He took me down to his basement, leading me by my hair all the way. Soon I was on my knees again with a spreader bar at my ankles, and my arms tied behind my back.

"Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to whip your breasts, then you're going to kiss my feet, okay?"

I couldn't believe the nightmare I had seemingly gotten myself in. He pulled out switch, and started delivering stings of pain to me, leaving long, red slashes on my cantaloupe sized teats. I was in tears when he stopped, and he stood in front me and waited expectantly until I remembered my part -- kissing his feet.

He yanked me up once again by my hair and retied my hands from behind my back to the spreader bar I had on, so I was bent over holding my ankles. He lined himself up behind me and started fucking me. I just stood there and groaned, doing my best to maintain my balance. Then he started thrusting harder, and I fell over, and he kept hammering away at me, making contact with my cervix, slapping my tits, and leaving red hand prints overlapping the brighter red slashes from the switch. Then he came. He got up and walked upstairs, leaving me in a crumpled heap with my hands still tied to my spread ankles. I heard the door close and lock.

Life at the office wouldn't be the same.

I moved away when I was 12. My dad took a stab as a security contract for an oil company, so we spent the next six years constantly moving to different Middle Eastern countries. Eventually, he burned out and went back to being a PI in Auburn, and that's how I found myself here.

Here is Auburn, Mississippi – a small town with 400 students enrolled at the local high school. Here is where I grew up playing with my older brother, Tim, and his best friend, Matt, who was between us in age. The last time I saw Matt he was a gangly 13-year old boy who had cooties. Of course, I was a chubby 12-year old girl who had cooties too. We were still friends despite the cooties part, in the "I can climb that tree faster than you can" kind of way. A lot had changed since then. For example, I now had a reason to wear a bra, and I hear Matt was the starting quarterback on the football team.

I wasn't sure if it was him at first. He was taller, but no longer gangly. 6'2" and well-proportioned, I recognized him more from knowing he was the quarterback than the image I had of a 13-year old boy.

"Matt! I haven't seen you in forever," I gushed. He paused, and my stomach clenched as I saw a shadow of doubt cross his face now angular instead of the chubiness of youth.

"Samantha?" He said after a moment's hesitation. My heart was, of course, crushed. The transition from new kid in school to dating the star football player wasn't progressing as hoped.

"Uh, no. Sarah, actually. Remember? Tim's little sister?" Maybe not the greatest way to be remembered, but it was something.

"Sarah? Oh, yeah. I remember now." He paused again looking me over, then I realized he was checking me out. I guess I had changed too. No longer chubby, my chest was topped with cantaloupe sized breasts, and my legs showed no signs of their former flabby selves, and my hair had gone from girlish pigtails to a womanly mane down just past my shoulders.

Nothing really happened for the first couple months of school. We had a few classes together, so we talked occasionally, even flirted a few times, but for the most part life was normal. Then November came, and guys started asking girls to homecoming. I turned a couple of guys down in hopes that Matt would ask me, but I was starting to regret that with only two weeks left. Then he did. I was walking on air for most of the day, and my girlfriends were congratulating me knowing how badly I had wanted to go with him. Except for Tara. Tara had gone out with Matt last year though, so I wasn't really surprised. Until we talked...

"Sarah, I heard Matt asked you out," Tara said as she primped in front of the mirror in the restroom.

"Yeah?" I replied somewhat timidly, aware of their history.

"He'll expect you to put out, you know."

"Not exactly surprising. He's the quarterback after all. I'd be surprised if he wasn't expecting it."

"So you're going to?"

"For him? I think so." Not that it was really any of her business.

"Well, Matt has a very... 'strong' personality, so just watch out." That was a bit mysterious.

"What do you mean?"

"Just don't be expecting missionary style."

That was an odd conversation, but I didn't let it worry me. The next two weeks were spent finding the perfect dress and gloating to my friends about my catch. The dance came, and it was wonderful. I looked gorgeous, and I could tell by the way the guys were looking at me as I hung on Matt's arm. After the dance was over, we headed back to his place, which didn't surprise me. I knew I would have to "put out", and for Matt, it was worth it. We pulled up to his house, and he pulled the keys from the ignition, but remained in the car.

"Sarah, there's something I have to tell you." I gave him my best expectant look.

"Sarah, I'm not looking for a girlfriend. Or a lover. Or even a 'friend with benefits'." Now came my best confused look.

"What are you looking for then?" I asked.

"Someone to fuck. I want to dominate and control, and I need a girl who's willing to let me do that." So this is what Tara meant. I was speechless for a moment. I really did want him though.

"Let's start with tonight..." I said trying my best to keep my options open.

"Fair enough. Strip." He got to the point, didn't he?

I took off my dress, then he had me walk in my bra and panties to his front door and into the house. Soon, my bra and panties were puddled on the floor as well, and the next ten minutes were spent with him ordering me through various positions. Arms over my head with breasts sticking out, bending over, spreading my legs (something I would be doing a lot of), on my hands and knees. Then he ordered me to play with myself. That I resisted. I whined and complained, but he insisted, commanded. I found myself with my fingers in my snatch. He had won. Just as I was getting into it, he brought a piece of rope and tied my arms above my head. Throughout my lewd display, he had still been in his suit pants and dress shirt from the dance. He unzipped, and it was pretty clear what was expected of me. I opened my mouth, and the rest was all him. To call it a blowjob would be putting it mildly. He was facefucking me. He quickly popped past my gag reflex and buried my nose in his pubic hair. He pulled back, leaving me gasping for air, then wiped his cock with his precum and my saliva on my face. My makeup which I had spent nearly an hour on was streaking. He pumped in a few more times then repeated the process slapping my face with his dick. My throat was raw, and I was sure I'd be unable to speak tomorrow. It continued until he finally erupted covering my face in semen. Oddly, I didn't wasn't mad. Instead, I sat contentedly on my heals with my arms tied over my head wearing this boy's cum on my face, waiting for his next command. I was satisfied... I think... because he was satisfied. He left for a minute.

He walked back into the living room (we had never made it past there) sipping the beer in his hand. I was on my knees, panting, trying to catch my breath. "Get up," he ordered, but he didn't wait, pulling me up by the hair. He roughly felt me up for a minute, squeezing my tits, cupping my pubic mound, then grabbing my chin, he fucked my mouth for a couple seconds with his tongue. Once again, he grabbed me by the hair and led me outside to his backyard. He pushed me down to the ground, and with my arms above my head, I couldn't catch myself and face planted in the mud (it had rained the night before.) He knelt down behind me and yanked my hips up. He must've had quite a site of me, my ass in the air, my face in the mud. He fucked me there. His cock pumping savagely in and out. His hands searching, then finding my nipples, he cruelly pinched and twisted and squeezed my flesh, mauling my breasts. My hands still tied above my head there was nothing I could do. With each thrust, my face was pushed farther into the mud. To an observer, it might seem like rape, but it was completely consensual. He didn't need to ask my permission to use me. I was completely willing to fulfill all his perversions, and I think he knew it. A moment later, he plunged deep, stiffened, and I felt stickiness fill my insides. He pulled out, leaving me once again gasping for air. This time my face was covered with mud and semen.

"Did you climax?"

"No." I was a little surprised he cared.

Pointing to a log lying beside me, he ordered me to hump it until I did climax. Humbly, realizing I would be depending on inanimate object to satisfy me, I did so, rubbing my pussy raw in the process. It took me an embarrassingly short period of time, since I had already been on the precipice of cumming.

"Okay, time to get you home. Do I need to pick you up tomorrow night?"

Looking down, I meekly nodded. Even with my only orgasm coming from a log, I felt more sexually alive than I had ever before. And I wanted more.

This site is primarily a place for my stories of sexual submission and humiliation, but it will also feature pictures from select bdsm sites, as well as some thoughts of mine on the bdsm lifestyle. Please leave comments and feedback (positive and otherwise). I'll do my best to respond. Also, if you have any requests or ideas for future stories, differing opinions from my thoughts on bdsm lifestyle or anything else, please speak up. Thank you for coming. I hope you find what you're looking for and enjoy your stay.