Poor Little Cassie – Chap 11 – The end
Cassie gets rescued and Tony is held accountable
Cruelty
Someone Save Me: Pt. 4
We left off with Father beating Tavia and raping Brad, and the young couple planning to run away that night. Also, if anyone in my small but (hopefully) growing fan base has Facebook and would like to add me, message me! I’m actually a 21 year old female, not a creepy old man in a basement. 😛
RUNAWAY Chapter 18 “Time Alone with Viktor”
Holly, continues her journey by the name Sammi Shepherd, hitchhiking across the country facing the dangers any teen might encounter while trying to establish a new identity and life for herself. No matter how hard she tries she doesn’t seem to be able to push the horrible memories of the things that happened out of her mind. But were they all so horrible? The other chapters to this story and my other stories are here: www.sexstories.com/profile269763/brokenwing
Three Can Keep a Secret if Two are…Servicing the Plan
Chapter Ten–Ron goes past the point of no return with the plan. And what about the Russians?
When In Rome – 05
Author’s NotesScene two is slightly violent / degrading.
_____________________________
CHAPTER THREE:
Scene 01: Lykos – Sex? Yes.
Scene 02: Atticus – Sex? Yes.
Scene 03: Cassius – Sex? No.
_____________________________LYKOS
Lykos opened his eyes and glanced over at his son.
“What was I saying?” He fisted his hand in Callia’s hair as she stroked his cock. It was soaking wet from her mouth, but she’d taken a detour. He heard her hungry moans as she sucked on his balls, pulling them into her mouth. He watched her little hips rock for a moment, fucking the air as she slapped his cock against her own lips.
Cassius sat across from him, his head tilted as he stared at his sister’s cunt.
“What?” Cassius glanced up at him. “Oh, something about thirty new whores showing up on your doorstep.”Right. Lykos groaned as he felt Callia begin to guide him down her throat. He patted her head. She’d been such a good whore today. The emperor had been extremely pleased with the show she put on. He’d always been pleased with her. Callia had fucked six of his guards in front of him. Then bathed, and served the emperor for hours.
And here the little whore was, on her eighth cock of the day. Her own father’s. And she was hadn’t slowed a bit. She was sucking him greedily, lust filled little moans as she placed sloppy little kisses on his shaft.
“Right. This whore situation is a problem,” he informed his son.
Cassius’s eyes never left Callia. Lykos didn’t blame him. Callia in action was a sight worth seeing. Gods, she had worked those fucking cocks today. He was almost proud of her.
“Failing to see how more whores is a problem, Father.”
Lykos pushed his daughters head down on his cock, filling his throat until her mouth was nestled snuggly at the base of his cock, and then he fucked it. Short little strokes deeper into her mouth until he knew she needed to breath. She pulled back choking, but her mouth was back on his cock in an instant.
“The whores aren’t here just for work. They want to work here for sanctuary. Another half dozen whores, and two noble girls have been found dead. That the whores are showing up here makes it look like we had something to do with it, like we’re behind the killings because we have something to gain by it.”
Cassius rubbed at the dark circles under his eyes.
“I need you to find this killer, my son. I need him broken and confessing. And then I need him killed. Publicly. Violently.”
His son’s eyes narrowed. “I prefer killing in the dark.”
He felt his daughter’s mouth tense around his cock.
“Don’t frighten Callia while she’s got a cock in her mouth,” he chided. “I’d hate to have to whip her for using teeth. She was such a good girl today.”
Cassius stilled, and then he stood up abruptly. “I’ll leave immediately. I may not be back until Sun’s Day. The whore is mine when I return.”
He leaned forward and slapped his little girl’s ass, spread her cheeks wide open to trail a finger up her soaking wet slit.
“I’m sure I’ll be done with her by then.”
Cassius left, the door slamming behind him. He gently pushed Callia’s head off his cock. “Lean back, show Daddy what they did to your pussy, Baby.”
His little girl grinned up at him, and leaned back against the floor. She spread her legs wide open for him, tilting her pelvis up to give him a good view. She spread her cunt wide open, her fingers pulling apart her tiny, pink inner lips.
“Touch it, baby. Show Daddy how you play with it.”
She moaned and leaned her head back against the ground as her fingers trailed up her wet little slit. She slapped at her clit and then worked slow circles around it. He slid down onto the floor next to her, and squeezed one of her little tits in his hand as his little girl rubbed her own pussy.
Her hips rocked off the ground as she fingered her clit, and her eyes met his. She stared into his eyes, her tongue sliding over her bottom lip.
He kissed her forehead. “You like when Daddy watches you touch it?”
She giggled and moaned up at him. “I like it better when Daddy fucks it.”
He laughed, stroking one of her nipples between his fingers.
“Do you want daddy to fuck your little cunt, Callia?”
Her hips rocked off the floor to meet the finger she’d just slid into her wet little cunt. “I always want my daddy to fuck my wet little cunt.”
Who was he to say no? After all, that little cunt – and her mouth, and her ass – had earned him an obscene amount of coin today.
He climbed between her legs and she spread them even wider. He pushed his cock against her entrance, and grabbed her hips. When he slid inside her, it was hard enough that her little tits bounced with the force of his stroke. He dug his fingers into her hips, stroking slowly now, pushing himself so deep inside his little girl’s willing, soaking body. She threw her head back, and pushed her hips against his. Her strokes were lazy, but her little hole was so wet, so fucking hot around his cock.
She bit her lip, smiled up at him. Gods, when she made that face, she looked just like her mother. He’d fucked Breena just like this, so many times. Her naked and wet, legs spread as she begged for his cock.
He leaned over Callia and kissed her mouth, tentatively, the way he’d kissed her mother. He’d never kissed their child before.. The thought had never crossed his mind. Callia froze at first, and then she pushed her mouth against his as his cock drove in and out of her cunt. He pounded her after that, fucking her rougher than he ever had before. His cock filled his child, the little girl that the only woman he’d ever loved had carried in her belly. He covered her mouth, squeezed her tits, fucked her until her cries consumed him. And then he fucked her harder. He felt his daughter’s cunt spasm around him. She was going to cum with his cock inside her.
He didn’t last long after that. She’d taken so many cocks, and he’d loved watching it. Every minute of his little whore preforming and he stared at her sweet little face as his balls emptied deep inside her cunt.
She laid on the ground, torn, spent unable to move, and he spread her legs wider to see the thick white cum inside her cunt. The same cum that that he’d pumped into her mother so many years ago.
She smiled up at him. “Thank you, Daddy.”
He kissed her head. “Go to bed, child.”
*ATTICUS
He’d managed to find the little whore before she’d been given breakfast.
He sat back on the edge of his bed, naked. Cock throbbing.
He’d made her sit and watch as he ate his own meal. He’d savored every bite, chewed slowly. Ensured that he fully described how delicious it was.
Callia had sat naked at his feet, hands bound behind her back. She tried so hard to look patient, but he could hear her stomach growling beneath him. When he finished, he didn’t move immediately. He just sat back, arms crossed over his chest. Atticus fucking hated his father’s bastard daughter; the whore he’d whelped on some Celtic slave. His brothers couldn’t see past their own cocks. They saw her as a pretty whore, a willing mouth, a wet cunt. He saw her as something disgusting. A piece of filth that didn’t deserve the air she was allowed to breathe.
He dumped what was left on his plate in a little bowl and sat it in front of her. He poured the smallest bit of water in a matching bowl and placed it beside the first. He checked the rope he’d tied around her hands. It was secure.
“Eat.”
She bit her lip as she looked down at the dishes he’d given her, and she looked back up at him.
“I.. I c-can’t. Now with my hands tied, Atticus.” She kept her eyes on the floor, as if that would somehow make up for her disobedience.
He slapped her, back handed her, with all of the force he could put behind it. He felt his knuckles against her mouth, and when he looked down at her he smiled as the small trickle of blood on her bottom lip.
He took her jaw in his fingers, digging hard into the skin and bone.
“You want to fuck like a dog, little sister? Stick your ass up in the air for every cock that passes by you?” He guided her face down to the bowls. “Then eat like a dog, Bitch.”
He could see her jaw tightening, the slow blush of red in her cheeks. Her eyes were shiny, bright with tears. His cock tensed. That’s it, cry for me, you little whore.
He stroked his cock slowly as he watched her bend forward to eat the scraps off his plate. At first she sniffled and whimpered, but then some fucking kind of resolve, some determination, crossed her eyes as she finished. She stuck her ass up in the air as she stuck her face in the bowl, and when she finished, she looked up at him. She looked pleased with herself. Defiant.
He slapped her again, this time with enough force to knock her off her knees and to the floor. She curled in on herself, the trickle on her lip bigger. More red. Her arms were tied behind her back, and she struggled to get up off the floor.
He grabbed her by the back of the neck, his other hand fisted in her hair, and guided her face to her water bowl. “Drink it, bitch.”
It was a struggle, but the little cunt obeyed. She tried her hardest to lap up water with her tongue, but it was difficult. Such is the problem with bitches in little girl bodies. His cock was hanging heavy between his legs, and he was growing impatient.
He pulled her back up on her knees. “Time for tea, little sister. Can’t have a whore like you breeding, now can we?”
He grabbed one of the two cups of whores-tea he’d grabbed from the kitchens and held her by the throat with the other hand.
“Face up to the sky. Open your mouth.”
Her body shook, but she obeyed.
He poured the tea sloppily into her open mouth. It ran down the sides of her cheeks as she choked on it. This was why he’d brought two cups. He knew the little cunt would spill. He didn’t expect his hound to have table manners, why would the little whore be any better?
He filled her mouth with the rest of the cup, and she managed to choke a little less this time. The tea still dripped down her cheeks, and her eyes watered with hot tears that he hoped were painful. He rubbed her jaw with his thumb.
“Looks like you need a bit more. Do try not to spill so much this time.”
He emptied half of the second cup into her open mouth, and she choked. Coughing, gasping for air, spat the foul tea all over his floor.
He backhanded her.
When she looked up at him, her eyes were bleak and tears were pouring down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Atticus.”
He laughed. “Not yet, you aren’t. But you will be.”
He shoved her forward, hand on the back of her neck. He pushed her face to the ground. She was on her knees, hands behind her back, dirty face on the ground, looking at him. She trembled, whimpered, but she kept her ass high up in the air, her legs spread wide for her own fucking brother. She was disgusting.
When he slid his hand between her legs, her cunt was wet.
“Tell me, bitch. Which of your brother’s cocks do you enjoy most?”
She looked back at him, her eyes wide. He could see her mind spinning.. In fear. That puzzled him. That question should have shamed her, not made her afraid.
He frowned. Titled his head. “It’s a simple question, Bitch. You spread your legs for every man in your family. Whose cock do you like best?”
“Father’s,” she finally admitted. But..
“You’re lying.” He grabbed her chin and twisted it up to meet his face and she cried out in pain. “Why are you lying to me? It’s a simple question. Hector’s? Gaius’s? Surely not Marcus’s.”
“I’m not lying.” Her voice shook. “I j-just.. I’m a whore, Atticus. And I like it best when Daddy fucks me. I like it best when my own father cums inside my cunt.”
He flipped her over on her back. She was still lying, but hearing the little bitch talk about how much she loved her father’s cock.. She made him sick.
He forced her legs open. She was so tiny. Such a filthy cunt to be so little. He laid his cock between her legs, on her stomach. He slapped it against her, his balls heavy as he measured it against her. If he just let his balls lay against her cunt, the tip of his cock was higher than her naval. He did like that. Having such a tiny little whore at his mercy. He slapped one of her little tits, and she cried out.
Her nipples were so hard, and no matter what he did to her her cunt would be wet and slick. For her brother, no less. She would enjoy his cock, probably cum around it.
He slapped her face again. Harder, ripping open the little barely-healed cut on her lip. And then he slapped her again. He hated that she made his cock so fucking hard, made it throb and ache to be inside her. She was worthless. She was disgusting, and yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself from using her. It was her fault. Not his.
He rolled her over, gripped her legs, forced her on her knees and her head back to the ground. “That’s it, ass up in the air like a bitch in heat. You want this cock, don’t you? Want to be fucked?”
She whimpered.
“Yes,” she whispered softly, her voice full of tears.
He would not fuck her cunt. That’s what she wanted, wanted his cock to slam inside her wet little hole.
He didn’t bother himself with getting her asshole wet. He wiped the tiny bit of her wetness that was on the tip of his cock on her leg and positioned himself right at the entrance to her ass.
He didn’t work it in. Didn’t try to make it easy on her.
He positioned the head of his cock, raised on his knees, and wrapped on arm around her waist while he forced his cock deep in her ass. Her body tightened, and he could feel the muscles clench as her scream echoed in his room.
Her body, subconsciously, tried to deny him entrance. She fought against him, but she’d taken too many cocks in her ass the day before. It was still tight. Still deliciously dry. But just loosened enough that she could do nothing to stop him. On his second attempt, he was inside her. His balls rested against her wet cunt and he felt her ass so fucking tight around him. She was screaming, but not in pleasure. Begging, but not for him to fuck her.
He pulled out, and forced himself back in. Again. Two hard thrusts as he took her hair in his hands and pulled her face around so he could see the hot tears on her cheeks.
“Why pretend like you don’t like it? I heard how many cocks you took in this little ass.” He pounded her, his words punctuated by heavy thrusts. “I heard about how many times you came with strange men’s cocks inside you, you worthless little cunt. Don’t pretend.”
He forced her knees closer together, making her even tighter around him. He wanted to fucking destroy her. When he pulled her face back to him by the hair. “Did you beg for their cum while our father watched?”
She didn’t meet his eyes, but she nodded. And when he felt her ass starting to move back against him, he hit her in the side of her head with his fist. Then he let go of her hair.
Her face slammed into the stone floor, and she writhed, trying to push the hurt side of her face into her shoulder. She was really crying now, and his cock pounded inside her, jerking, making his stomach tighten as he heard her weeping quietly.
“You think you’re special, don’t you Bitch? Because men can’t keep their hands off you.” He hissed. “I know Callia. You think you’re something because the fucking Emperor used to pump that sweet, tiny little cunt full of royal cum. He couldn’t keep his hands off you when you were a girl, and you think that makes you better than me. But that was a very long time ago, Bitch. You’re nothing. Nothing.”
He stroked her back. With his fingernails. Dug them into her flesh, watching red tracks spread behind where he touched. “What’s wrong, darling sister?”
She tried to arch away from him.
“You’re h-hurting me.” She whimpered, and it undid him. He pounded her, harder, faster, trying to fuck through her. He heard her crying beneath him, and he felt powerful. Alive. Strong. He pulled out. He gripped her ass in his hands, pulling it wide open to see the red, fucked raw little hole. The hole his cock had violated, stretched wide.
And then he stood up and kicked her. Used hit foot to roll her over onto her back.
“What’s wrong, Baby Sister? Didn’t get to cum?” He bent over and spat in her face. “Good.”
He gripped his cock, slapped it hard against her cheek. Then he stroked it, his eyes focused on the blood on her lip, the tears in her eyes, and his spit pooled just to the left of her nose.
Three strokes. That was all it took, and he shot his cum right onto her disgusting little face.
He sat down next to her, watching her sniffle and try to pull herself together.
He smiled to himself, a cruel, triumphant grin as he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “By the way, father’s waiting for you. And he’s so very, very angry with you Callia. And if I were a betting man, I’d bet I might not have to see that filthy little face around here for much longer. Today may very well be the day. What have you done this time?”
*CASSIUS
Cassius arrived home early, covered in blood. His sword needed cleaned. Desperately. His knuckles were busted open, swollen and inflamed. Every muscle in his body ached. Gods, was twenty-eight really that old?
He wanted Callia. Now, underneath him, wrapped around him. He was too tired to beat her. But he hadn’t been able to sleep the night before replaying her over and over in his mind, taking those cocks like a little champion.
Someday, she would be his, and he would be the one arranging for her to be fucked. And then he’d beat her, while she was still covered cum and fuck her senseless. Show her how it was really done.
He stripped off his blood-stained clothing as he turned down the hall that led to the underground slave pens and frowned.
The door to the Hole was open. He hadn’t seen it open in years. Two slaves were inside, mopping the floor under the flogging rack. Both were sobbing quietly as they cleaned, and when he entered, both jumped.
He gestured around. “Who was punished in here?”
Neither answered him, their sobs had become louder as they both backed away from him, away from the instruments of pain his father kept in that room. Lykos didn’t enjoy pain as a part of sex. But he was skilled in the art of punishment. His father took pride in that.
“Who was punished? I order you to fucking tell me.”
A slave whose name he didn’t know stared at the ground.
“C-Callia, Dominus. Your sister.”
He didn’t remember grabbing the girl. The next thing he knew, his fingers were digging into her arms and she was screaming in pain. Begging. He shook her, hard. The small bowl of water she was holding clattered to his feet.
“What did they do to her?”
Tears were pouring down the terrified slave’s face. He could see red spatter on the floor. The other girl had been cleaning a.. He shook the girl harder. His voice thundered.
“F-flogged. Dominus. About an hour past.”
A theives’ punishment. He felt every muscle in his body tense. He could barely see the girl he has holding through the sheet of red in front of his eyes. His heart, raging beats pounded in his ears.
“Why?” His voice was flat. Eerily calm, even to him.
“One of her men. A regular. He left and realized he was missing a r-ring. He said she must have taken it.”
He tried to breathe. To ease up on the girl’s arms.
“How many times?”
“Twenty-seven. O-one for every d-denarii he said the ring was worth.”
He let go of her arms. “Do you know where she is?”
“G-Galla took her to clean her wounds. The slaves’ baths, I t-think, Dominus.”
He was out the door before he realized he’d moved, heavy, running footfalls as he took the stairs down to the slave pens. The door to the baths was locked and he kicked it open, a satisfied smile as the lock splintered through the wood.
Galla rushed at him. The weathered old woman in charge of cleaning and feeding the whores had terror in her eyes but she lunged at him any way.
“You get out of here, Cassius.” The old woman seethed as she tried to march him to the door. She barely came up to his chest. “She’s hurt. You’ll just have to wait. I’m not letting her leave this room.”
He couldn’t respond to her. Couldn’t look at her. He barely noticed her as he stared at Callia’s poor, little bloodied back. She was passed out, sleeping or unconscious on the island of the bathtub. He staggered, and Galla slapped at his chest.
“For the love of Jupiter, she can’t take another beating.”
His little sister stirred, and her eyes opened wide with fear. And then she saw him. And the relief in her eyes hurt him somewhere deep in his chest.
She was on her feet in a second, staggering over to him. She shoved past Galla and then her arms were around his neck. He melted. He struggled to find a way to embrace her without touching her back, and settled for one hand on the back of her head, and another on the curve of her arm. He gripped her to him, and didn’t let go even when he head Galla’s surprised gasp.
Callia was crying into his chest, and Galla was staring at them, not bothering to hide her shock. Fuck. That was not good.
She pushed Callia away from him gently, but what he did next was nowhere near gentle.
He was holding the old woman against the wall, his sword to her throat.
“I don’t know what you think you just saw, old-”
“Cass.” Callia was pulling at his arm, her eyes wide as she stared up at him. “Don’t.”
She looked afraid.
The old woman, however, did not. She just stood very still, and met his eyes. She gave him as much of a nod as she could with his sword against her throat.
“They could kill me. I won’t say a word. I raised that girl, Cassius. My own daughter nursed her after her mother died. I love her, too.”
Too. Fuck. She knew. The cunning old woman had seen it. He knew he’d probably live to regret it, but he released her. He helped Callia back to the edge of the tub.
“I need someone to go to the market. How’s your memory, old woman?”
“Sharper than yours.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to remember what went in the salve he needed to make.
He was a killer, not a healer. He listed off the few ingredients he remembered, and Galla stopped him.
“You want to make the salve her mother used to put on your back.”
He frowned. “How do you know of this?”
She smiled, her eyes sad. “Breena was my friend, child. And you were always her favorite. She loved you. She didn’t hate your mother because she wanted her husband. She hated how Lyssandra treated you. She’d have killed her for it, given half the chance.”
Instead, Lyssandra had killed her.
Galla patted his arm, a gentle gesture he wasn’t used to from anyone but Callie.
“I’ll go get what you need. Take care of her until I return.”
He was left alone with his little sister, and he watched her whimper as she slept. She burned with fever and he burned with rage. He was going to kill them all. Dance in their blood. Give their heads to Callie as a sign of his love.
He wondered if she’d like that.
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God is a Slut Chapter 4: The Gang Rape Movie
This is the fourth chapter of the “God is a Slut” series. Rachel has changed since she was the scared, virgin Jesus-Freak. Now, she’ll face her toughest challenge yet: getting gang raped by demons.
The Kennel Master Part 2
More, very dark, taboo, nonconsensual stuff – DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’t ENJOY THIS SORT OF THING. It is not my intention to upset or offend anyone.
Rachel’s bitch chapter 2.5- Tobin’s beggining
Miss Tobin gets recruited
“RUNAWAY” – Chapter 4 “Tonight It Was Special”
Follow along as Holly, traveling by the name of Sammi Shepherd, hitchhikes across the country facing the dangers of being an attractive young lady, while having daydreams and nightmares about the sexually depraved things Roger did or arranges others to do to her, while she does everything she can to establish a new identity and life for herself. You can find the other chapters as well as my other stories here: https://www.sexstories.com/profile269763/brokenwing
The Power of the Illuminati – Ch. 04 – Iraqi Prisoner Part 2
While visiting Iraq, he is given a wonderful gift by the local Dictator. An Iraqi prisoner for Alexander to rape. This is the second part of that story
Teaching Carol, Ch.6
A young student-teacher learns the joys of submission
My Mom and my Sis are my Sex Slaves Part 1
David has captured and trained his Mother Kendra, and his Sister Kayleigh, into becoming his obedient sex slaves. Now he strategically moves towards the next phase of his plan to build the life he always fantasized about.
Broken Birds, Part 18, Full Circle
Part 18
Full Circle
They found her on a fairway of an exclusive golf course.
She lay where she had fallen, curled in a fetal position, her face resting in a pool of vomit. Duct tape wrapped around her head, eyes and ears prevented her from most sensory input. It had some writing on it. One earlobe hung down, ripped when they had used her earrings to impale her mouth. She still tasted the female juice, semen, feces and piss. She smelled foul. Her hands were taped behind her back. Dried blood caked her knees and one of her nipples. Fresh blood dripped onto her hideously bruised inner thighs. Dark, angry lines crisscrossed her ass, thighs and breasts.
The message written across the duct tape said, “Tell Robert how it feels.”
Mercifully, she would never remember the ride to the hospital or the horror of her examination.
Her first conscious memory was of her father yelling into his cell phone about castrating the bastards.
The nurse touched his arm, nodding to the bed. He quickly terminated the call and went to her bedside where his wife sat, holding her hand.
The girl lay perfectly still, staring at the ceiling, one eye covered with a patch where her eyelid had ripped when they removed the duct tape. Caked blood lined one nostril.
Her mother spoke in soft, gentle tones, trying to reach her. It was no use. The girl was reliving a nightmare she could not understand.
Finally a nurse came in and injected a liquid into the drip and the girl closed her eyes, never having moved an inch or uttered a sound.
********************************************************************************************************
“I’m sorry Senator,” the graying female trauma counselor said softly, “She’s trying to process it all. She’ll begin reacting when she’s ready. I have no idea when. When she does come out of it, she’ll need a lot of love and help.”
“But she’ll be OK, right?” asked her mother.
“I don’t know, Mrs. McDale. I hope so, but there are no guarantees.”
He took his wife in his arms as she started sobbing uncontrollably. Senator McDale’s blood pressure caused his face to redden and bulge, but he comforted her.
A State Police Captain approached him.
“Do you have the bastards that did this to her?” he demanded.
The Captain looked unhappy. “They apparently used condoms, so there’s no DNA. They washed her down, flushed her colon and douched her thoroughly, so most forensics are gone. No fingerprints that we could find. They used common tape and marker. She walked quite a way based on her foot cuts, so we don’t even know where they put her out. No fingernail scrapings. They apparently came up from behind and used an electric prod to subdue her. She’s not able to tell us anything. This was a planned attack. Based on the message, it was by someone angry with your son. We’ll look into other complaints against him. There were a number of girls that came forward after that Shannon girl’s message. We’ll check them out.”
“In other words, you have nothing.”
The Captain nodded.
“Do you think it has anything to do with the Shannon girl?” he asked reluctantly.
“I don’t think so. It would make no sense. That was several years ago. If her family or friends wanted to hurt Robert, they had a perfect opportunity. Instead, she helped him. She’s a rape victim. After what she went through, I doubt she could even think about hurting another woman that way,” he thought a minute, “I think it is probably the brother of a victim. Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing if the victim is one of those that came forward.”
Actually the Captain had a pretty good idea of the attackers, or at least two of them. He also knew he would never prove it. Sons of the rich almost never got charged. His sister had not been raped, but his girlfriend had.
The nurse scuttled in, asking the McDales to come with her.
The doctor sat with them. She was a younger version of the trauma counselor, slender with kind eyes.
“Physically, your daughter sustained a number of injuries. First, when the cops ripped the tape off, they damaged her eyelid. That needs to be repaired immediately as those nerves and muscles are pretty complex and can be permanently damaged easily.” They nodded. The doctor signaled to the nurse. “Get the room ready.”
“Second she has sphincter and vaginal tearing that we’ll need to repair. Fortunately, her cervix and uterus are OK. She has esophageal bruising, but not so severe that we needed to do a tracheotomy.”
“She has jaw bruising and possible ligament damage from having her jaw stretched too far by some sort of dental device. She also has some lung damage from ingesting urine or vomit.”
Mrs. McDale sobbed uncontrollably. The doctor patted her hand. “All of that we can fix, but I can’t promise anything about her emotional health.”
Senator McDale was famous for holding composure when others lost theirs. His mind raced, knowing there was something that had been said that might help.
His eyes tightened at the thought. The Shannon girl had come through her hell. He wondered how. He knew Peter was dead, but Senator McDale had many friends. He had to find out, completely forgetting his word to Peter.
********************************************************************************************************
Two days later Tim called on the sattelite phone, never a good sign. He explained what had happened and what the Senator wanted for his daughter.
The last thing Michael wanted was to help McDale again. Beth had nightmares for weeks after giving her statement. Now he wanted her to break cover and expose herself.
First he went to Alice and explained. Alice knew Beth well. It had to be her decision.
They found Beth in animated discussion with Maria. Maria had blossomed in the days since they made love, becoming quietly confident rather than insecurely cocky. She had been right after all. Even Alice agreed. They had fixed her, after a fashion.
After explaining that the McDales wanted Beth to come to them, she looked at Michael. Inside she fought her natural empathy with her own needs. It was a testament to her recovery when she said, “No. I won’t be away from you or the girls for months helping her.”
Alice put a hand on Michael’s arm. “Would it be safe to bring her here? We have Alice and Jennifer.”
“I’ll have to think about that one,” Michael said trying to buy time, his mind racing, slowly shaking his head. Rafaela and the Walsh women were still too vulnerable.
He phoned Tim. “Tim, what if we brought the girl to a neutral place or here? Beth won’t be away from us and, I Goddamn well don’t want to be away from her. What about the safe house in South Australia?”
“Let me check if we can get some surrounding houses.”
“Don’t commit to anything yet, I just want to know my options.”
He returned to Beth and Alice and explained the possible option.
Tim called back and said he could make it happen, though it would be expensive, but the Senator would pay.
Tim contacted a friend who, in turn, contacted the Senator. It was weak security at best, but Tim also saw the upside. If he helped the Senator’s daughter, his security work would double or triple.
********************************************************************************************************
Senator McDale took his laptop into his daughter’s room, her refuge from the world since being discharged from the hospital. The doctors were hopeful that her eyelid repair would work, but privately they doubted it. The tear had cut major nerves.
The trauma counselors were concerned with both Kat and Robert who blamed himself for her rape.
She had been lying on her bed staring at the ceiling. She rolled away from him, hiding the bandage over her eye. She gasped as the movement ripped new scar tissue from the stitches in her vaginal floor.
“Come on Honey. I wanted to show you something.”
He opened the laptop and played the message from Beth.
A lovely blonde woman was on the screen, “Hello Kat,” she said softly, “my name is Beth, and yes, I was raped by your brother.” She paused as a brief flashback of Robert on top of her sent chills down her back.
“I won’t lie to you. I still remember that terrible night and will for the rest of my life. But with the help of an incredible man and my family, I’ve learned to live, love and laugh again.”
“I’ve been told you’ve seen my before and after video, so you know it can be done. I can’t promise it will help, but if you like, we’d like to try to help. But I will not abandon my family, even for you, so it will mean leaving your family for a time, maybe a long time. I know, I am still healing.”
“So it’s really up to you. Reach out to people that have been through the hideously painful hell you’re in or sink ever deeper into it.” Beth paused.
“If you’re coming, Honey, come soon. You won’t be sorry.”
Kat looked up at her father, her lower lip quivering. The pain in her eyes ripped his soul.
“Do you want to go, Honey?”
She nodded many times, over and over, “it can be done…” For the first time since her rape, she slept without pills that night, clinging to the hope of salvation from another tortured soul.
Robert came home from his University two days later to say goodbye. He and Kat had always been close. Kat was preparing to leave. He looked into her eye and saw the unbearable agony, understanding for the first time the terrible impact of the rapes. He reached out to her. She just looked at him, her face blank.
“Now do you understand?” She walked away, tears filling her eyes.
*******************************************************************************************************
Tim had arranged the trip so Michael, the harem and Michaela would be settled into the safe house in St Kilda before Kat arrived in Melbourne. It was far smaller than the main house, but comfortable nonetheless with three stories. The difference between Queensland and South Australia in winter was, however, quite large.
Michael began to regret the trip. The girls were uncomfortable and snappish being away from their home for a total stranger.
The moment Kat walked in the door, however maternal and empathic instincts kicked in.
Beth hugged her first, feeling Kat shaking, then handed her off to Rachael who stroked her hair, telling her it would be all right. Each of the girls hugged her. Finally she stood in front of Michael who held Michaela.
He put one arm around Kat’s shoulders and spoke to Michaela, “Meet your aunt Kat.”
Alice watched with open admiration as Kat began to relax, “Hi Michaela,” she cooed putting out her finger to be grasped. Alice thought wryly that she should just give up and let Michael sort things out.
After three days, Kat was part of the family; after seven, she knew the basics, but no last names or geographic information about each of them; after two weeks of intensive therapy she had stopped descending into her private hell. Now she had to climb out.
Unfortunately, her eyelid nerves had been damaged and the lid drooped disconsolately, so she was reminded of her rape every day. It became the center of her hell until one day, feeling sorry for herself, she wailed, “I’m ruined” in front of Shoshana and Beth. Shoshana slapped her. Not hard, but it was a slap. Shoshana was so kind and gentle that you could have heard a pin drop.
“Don’t say that. You’re not perfect, but you never were! Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Beth my mom or I would trade places with you in a New York minute! You can create life. We can’t. What’s more important, holding your child to your breast or a drooping eyelid? We gave up our lives to help you and all you can do is feel sorry for yourself!” Shoshana stormed off.
Time seemed to stand still.
Slowly, as if in slow motion, Kat’s face seemed to come apart, tears of shame streaming down her face, as she repeated, “I’m sorry.”
Alice took her into her arms. Shoshana had played her part perfectly. Not even Michael knew, but his eyes suspected.
That night was a harrowing trip through hell for both Kat and Alice. By taking away her sight and sound, her rapists had intensified her other senses, indelibly printing each and every moment in her brain. As Michael rose early the next morning, he found Alice sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of wine.
“Shoshana slapping her was a set up wasn’t it?”
Alice nodded, “Kat was stuck. I didn’t want you to un-stick her, so Shosh and I worked out the little play.”
“Now?”
“A couple more weeks and she’ll at least be functional.” Alice hesitated, “She could use a change of scenery. We all could. Can you see what Tim thinks about us going home?”
Kat slept till noon, coming out as they were eating lunch. She looked different. She went over to Shoshana, pulled back her hand as if to hit her and, seeing Shoshana’s eyes widen, threw her arms around her. “You’re a pretty good actress.” Giggling.
“I think I would have liked Michael’s way better,” she said smiling.
As they ate, she interacted with the family as an equal, not a victim.
“Kat, I have a big question to ask. Can you keep a secret? I mean really keep one, no matter what?” Michael asked, searching her face.
She looked at him a bit fearfully, but answered with conviction, “If it’s important, I swear I will.”
Each of them looked her in the eye, “then I think you better pack. We’re leaving tomorrow. We’re going home. A home you can never tell anyone about. Deal?”
She nodded firmly.
Their relief was obvious when they entered the main house. Within hours, they were in the lap pool with Michaela cooing happily in Kat’s arms.
Whereas the focus had been on helping Kat at the safe house, the focus in the compound switched back to the Michael and his harem. How a woman could share her man puzzled Kat. She approached Beth and asked, knowing that it had been her decision.
“Two parts to the answer. First, I had come to love Rachael, Lynne and Shoshana while we were in hiding. The others came one at a time. Rafaela, Alice, Jennifer and Maria joined. It’s a little sad for me, but they all need my Dad and they make sure I am happy. When I get down, he makes sure to refill my love bucket, and I don’t mean my pussy.” She grinned, knowing she had shocked Kat.
“The other part was practical. I can’t make a child. God knows, I would give anything to hold a baby I had made with Dad, but it just wasn’t possible, so I will be the aunt who looks great in a bikini!”
Kat realized just how much Beth meant to her. “Do you think your Dad would let me give him a child?
Beth shook her head slowly. “He could never live apart from his child and you have a world to return to. Besides, any sharing has to be agreed by his entire harem.”
“But you come first. Everyone knows that.”
Beth just smiled and left the room. In the bedroom, she wept for happiness. Dad was right, he’d loved her longest and would never leave her.
********************************************************************************************************
That night, Kat had a nightmare reliving her rape in vivid detail.
She felt a jab of something with two points. Her body exploded as the stun baton discharged into her back.
The strong arm across her throat, while others grabbed her arms, quickly taping her hands behind her back. She tried to kick, but her legs would not obey. Each leg was caught, effectively immobilizing her. Then the tape across her eyes and ears. She was on the ground, twisting and trying to get enough air to scream…”
“Get it in her Goddamn mouth,” she heard faintly through the tape. Something metallic tasting was jammed in her mouth, the lips of the device folded over her lower and upper teeth. Two strong hands pried her mouth open wide. She could hear and feel it clicking by her ears as it ratcheted open, holding her mouth obscenely stretched open. A rag was stuffed in to prevent any sound escaping.
Her captor twisted her around and slammed her face first into the ground, knocking the wind out of her. Other hands picked her up and she felt herself being thrown in the trunk of a car. She tried to kick, but her body wouldn’t obey her. As the short circuits calmed, she tried to make enough noise to attract help, but they had chosen their route carefully.
She heard and felt the trunk open and kicked out hoping to catch one of them unwary. A hand slapped her face hard.
She was carried down a flight of stairs and dumped on a bed. As she continued to struggle, something with points was pressed against her pussy with only her thin thong as protection. Unimaginable pain shot through her body as electric shock passed through her clit into her body. Whoever used it, knew how to cause a woman unbelievable pain!
She could hear faint mumbling, but the center of her being was her clit. They stripped her, cutting her shirt and bra clear so her hands remained bound. Once naked, strong hands pulled her into a kneeling position. She felt the bed sag near her head. The rag was pulled from her stretched mouth and was replaced by a man’s shaft. She had performed a few blow jobs, but this penis tasted and smelled funny.
Behind her a man fumbled a bit and slid his condom clad cock along her opening to part her inner lips, finally finding his target. He grasped her hips and thrust forward brutally. The condom insulated his cock from the brutal chaffing of her dry tunnel. As she tried to scream, the cock in her mouth slammed against the back of her throat. The man in front pinched her nose, forcing her to gasp for air and open her throat. On the next thrust into her pussy, his cock entered her throat.
Her mind reeled at the double penetration. The man in front pulled her forward violently by her ears, ripping an earring out as it tore through her earlobe. His cock started to pulse, sending jets of semen down her throat. She desperately pulled back, trying to clear her air passage. His hands let her go and she violently impaled herself on the rapist behind her. In her dark, silent world of pain, another pair of hands pulled her face up and another cock shoved roughly into her mouth.
She felt the man behind pulse and shoot his cum into the condom. Another man took his place, but aimed higher. He at least used a lubricated condom, but she felt her sphincter rip as he thrust forward without preparing her in any way. She felt every bulge and vein of the impaling cocks. They hammered her in rhythm. The man at her head shot his cum into her mouth.
The man behind began circling his hips, ripping her sphincter a little more with each movement. A thin wooden switch slashed across her back. Her muscles tightened involuntarily, her damaged ass contracted. Again and again the switch found her back and ass. After an eternity of pain, he shot his semen into his condom.
They used it on the back of her thighs, then her feet.
They flipped her over. A woman lowered her dripping pussy over her mouth, rubbing her slit on her nose and lips, brutally twisting her nipples. She screamed into the wet folds, unintentionally extending her tongue. The pain in her nipples subsided. She understood and began to lick the slick labia above her mouth. Another man pushed her legs high, the woman on her face pulled them further, locking them behind her back, effectively bending her in half. The position exposed her violated ass and ravaged pussy.
An enormous cock slammed into her ass. Mercifully, she had passed beyond pain into numbness. After him, another man slid into her pussy. The woman moved and a man’s ass replaced her pussy, twisting her nipples until she extended her tongue and licked his ass hole.
Six men and one woman used her. Finally they released her legs. They picked her up and laid her on a cold tiled floor. A woman’s hands pushed her down. She lay on her back as they began to urinate into her open mouth. Female fingers pinched her nose closed so she had to swallow the pee to breathe. She vomited. More pee poured into her stretched mouth. She swallowed and vomited again.
A feces covered cloth was finally shoved into her mouth to keep her quiet. Soft, female hands spread her pussy lips. The cold prongs pressed again and Kat’s world exploded into a universe of pain.
She remembered being in a cold shower and then being back into the trunk of a car. She curled into a ball n the trunk, in part from cold, but more because she was broken. They pulled her from the trunk. She could feel them writing something on the tape, removed the rag and mouth device and kicked her to the ground. Someone delivered one final kick to her solar plexus to immobilize her as they escaped.
She heard them drive off and began to crawl and stumble away from the car noise. She could feel the blood running down her leg, smell their urine and taste their feces.
She was screaming, feeling the pain and humiliation. She violently shoved away loving arms until steely arms engulfed her. She slashed with her nails and connected. Then her arms were pinned to her sides. She tried to knee him, but he easily dodged. He lowered his lips to hers. Her eyes snapped open. Her first thought was that Michael was raping her. But she saw the other women.
“You back in control, Honey?” he asked with genuine concern in his voice.
“God, you’re strong,” he felt the deep scratches on his face now dripping blood, “and good with your nails,” he chuckled.
“Why’d you kiss me?”
“You were out of control. We were afraid you’d hurt yourself. When that happened with Beth, I kissed her. She snapped out of it. I took a chance you’d wakeup too.”
Kat surveyed her room. Broken glass from broken picture frames littered the rooms. She looked at her hand and saw blood.
Jennifer had been riding his cock in a reverse cowgirl position when they heard Kat’s screams. She looked sadly at the retreating harem. Now she was their doctor.
“We’ll clean it up in the morning. Use the spare bedroom.”
“Go with them,” Kat said to Alice and Jennifer. Kat felt very guilty. Both shook their heads.
“Michael, you better come too. Those are pretty deep,” Jennifer said as she looked carefully at the scratches.
They led Michael and Kat to the infirmary.
As Jennifer treated her hand, Alice listened as Kat detailed her rape. After detailing the use of the taser on her clit, Jennifer put on a band with a magnifying glass. She had Kat lie with her feet in the stirrups. She found a tiny burn scar with a little blood clot beneath on the underside of Kat’s clit.
“Fuck!” Jenifer spat, “What kind of an OB/GYN missed this?” Turning to a frightened Kat, “Sorry Honey. Why didn’t you tell me you hurt?” Kat looked near to tears.
“I was afraid I’d been ruined.” She wailed, sitting up.
Jennifer gently pushed her down. “I’ll fix you up.”
Then Jennifer went to Michael. “Dueling scar or stitches?” Normally Michael really didn’t care, but he thought about Kat. “Better stitch it up, Honey. I don’t want Kat looking at my mug and remembering her rape.”
Jennifer went to work.
Twenty minutes later with Michael stitched up, they slowly walked back with them to the main house, to home.
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Life Sucker part 1
Part one of my latest story
Forced to be Used. Part 2.
This is part two of Maddison’s story. At the end of a night out she was taken and used by a stranger. Now she wakes to find herself still at the mercy of her attacker.
Live-in Maintenance Man
Isabelle, a widow with three children needs a man at home to fix her and the home.
The Peeper
Three jocks decide to punish a girl who’s been selling pictures of their girlfriends to a porno mag.
“RUNAWAY” Chapter 10 “Feeling The Pain”
Holly, continues her journey by the name Sammi Shepherd, hitchhiking across the country facing the dangers any teen might encounter while trying to establish a new identity and life for herself. She also must face the memories of the forced sex and violence, Roger mom’s boyfriend does or arranges done to her. The other chapters to this story and my other stories are here: https://www.sexstories.com/profile269763/brokenwing
Home Ec
Zach and Jackie are cleaning in the home economics room but their minds are on each other’s bodies.
For sadists only – My second torture session
This is the second story after “For sadists only – my first time with the lash”.
After the horrendous beatings by Gary, I had it in my mind that I’d been absolutely crazy to have so willingly put myself into that situation. I knew without the slightest doubt that never again would I ever want to do anything like it again.
On the long drive back home I’d been tormented with wondering what my husband thought about the whole affair. Admittedly he had been a party to arranging the whole visit, and had seemingly enjoyed every minute of it, even to the point of holding me down so that Gary could beat me untill I was screaming in agony. Perhaps he had done that because he’d lost all respect for me.
Rob, my husband, certainly seemed still loving. He seemed concerned at my tender and bruised condition, but we had hardly said a word about the affair and each seemed preoccupied with our own thoughts as we drove home.
My own overwhelming feeling was one of shame that I had been such a wanton slut, yes, that’s the only word to describe me, … a wanton slut for Gary, openly, enthusiastically and shameless with my husband watching.
Over the ensuing week this feeling of shame persisted, especially when my husband and I played in the bed. Rob was still the same loving and caring husband though, and I slowly began to think that perhaps, just perhaps, he wasn’t put out by what I had done. Perhaps, just perhaps, he did still respect me … why else would he be so loving, seemingly much more loving than prior to our fantastic weekend away.
The thing was that neither Rob nor myself spoke of what had happened, each one of us, I realized later, being completely uncertain of what the other one thought.
The ice eventually had to break, and it did break about a week later when we were fucking and sucking on the bed. I was on all fours with Rob up behind me and pumping his cock into my pussy doggie fashion.
My bum was still very bruised and tender from my beating, and as Rob fucked me he pressed onto my bruising, causing me to wince a little and give an “ouch”.
“What’s wrong,” he asked with concern.
“The bruising is still a bit tender,” I replied, feeling a little embarrassed at mentioning it.
Rob must have been embarrassed as well because he was silent for a moment and then quietly said, “can you forgive me for doing that to you?”
I was surprised at his words because I’d thought that it was I who needed forgiveness, but it seemed that my husband was feeling pangs of guilt at setting me up for such a session.
“But I was hardly an unwilling party to it,” I replied, and then added, “you must be disgusted with me for the way that I acted.”
“Disgusted!” my husband exclaimed. “Why, I thought that you were the most, wonderful, beautiful thing!”
A cloud lifted and our true feelings came into the open. It transpired that Rob was thrilled with my lustful sluttiness and with the awful thrashings that I had been able to take.
In turn I let him know that I had been thrilled at being beaten and treated in such a degrading manner.
We were both filled with lust as we began to relive the experience, comparing thoughts about every little aspect of what had taken place.
“But you couldn’t have enjoyed it?” my husband asked in wonderment.
“No,” I admitted. “I certainly can’t say that I enjoyed it at the time and yet I did want it to happen and now I am so glad that it did.”
Most of the markings, that the lash had left on my body, had more or less faded away after a week or two. Some of the bruising though, lasted longer and I was quite tender in places.
Likewise, my emotional healing followed a similar path.
A few weeks after my thrashing, I began to look at my experience in a slightly modified light. Whereas at first it had seemed so very stupid to willingly submit to that sort of treatment, I now took the view that I indeed had to try everything at least once, and that having submitted to such a beating, I could now feel a pride that I had actually gone through with it.
It was comforting too, that my husband hadn’t lost any respect or regard for me as I had at first feared. In fact his view of me had taken quite the other direction and whenever we spoke of my treatment at Gary’s hands, he was full of admiration and pride in me as his wife.
Because of this admiration, I eventually suggested to my Rob that he might like to whip me. His reaction was rather surprising to me in that he shunned the idea and told me that he could never hurt me.
We quite openly discussed our feelings and, it transpired that while my husband had an abhorence of hurting me himself, he nevertheless thrilled at the idea of my abuse and punishment at the hands of other men.
Time continued to alter my attitude until after a couple of months I was looking back upon my beating with fond memories and I knew that if an opportunity arose, I would enthusiastically submit once more.
From that point onwards I purposely, at nights when my husband and I were fucking, would bring up the subject of what we had done, in the hope that Rob might suggest a repeat performance. I was too embarrassed to make a direct suggestion myself.
Because this tack didn’t bring the desired result I, after a time, took a different approach and asked Rob if he was still emailing with Gary.
I eventually got out of him that Gary was enthusiastic to again thrash and beat me.
“Is he pressurizing you to take me there again,” I asked, trying to keep too much excitement from showing in my voice.
“Well he’s pressurizing me to pressurize you,” Rob laughingly replied.
“But it’s not up to me,” I said, trying to put a surprised tone into my voice. “I would do it again if you wanted me to.”
“Would you!” Rob exclaimed, his face lighting up with joyous surprise.
The “start” button had been triggered in our minds. It was all now enthusiastic discussion and planning.
The next day Rob told me that he’d passed on the good news to Gary.
“What did he say,” I asked.
His exact words: “I always knew that the little slut would be back for more,” my husband related with a grin.
It certainly wasn’t without apprehension that I planned this next visit to Gary. I could certainly well remember the terrible flogging and the pain and misery and suffering at Gary’s hands, and I knew that this next trip would be no different and yet I very definitely wanted it to happen.
It was lust that drove me on. Lust for being degraded and humiliated. Lust to satisfy both Gary and Rob in their perverted, sadistic desires. Lust to be a slut and a whore for them.
Saturday finally came and we headed off on the six hour drive to where Gary lived.
Being so far to drive there, only added to my feelings of debasement and humiliation. How many women would make a six hour trip for the opportunity of being thrashed, beaten and treated like trash.
It was a long day but eventually we reached the town and booked into the motel.
Rob said that he was starving and ordered a big meal, I however only had a light snack as I knew that being whipped and beaten on a full stomach wouldn’t be the right thing.
I showered and took great care with my makeup. I dressed in my sexiest, most delicate underwear and put on a light, summer dress.
Rob phoned Gary and then left the motel and made the ten minute drive to Gary’s house.
Gary and Rob met enthusiastically and shook hands. Gary then turned his attention to me. “Hello slut,” he said with a leering grin and then, with his left hand, grabbed a fistful of my hair, tipping my head back as he kissed my mouth and ran his tongue inside, while his right hand pulled my skirt up and groped my pussy.
“Hello,” I smillingly replied when he released me. I used the sweetest voice that I could muster, even though I could feel the pain of having had my hair wrenched.
We had parked on the roadside and were standing on the pavement. Gary nevertheless told me to strip off.
It was not long dark and I momentarily glanced up and down the street before beginning to undress.
Gary undid his pants and took his hard cock out. “Get down and suck this,” he ordered as soon as I was naked.
I glanced at my husband who was standing, watching approvingly, then I knelt on the hard concrete of the pavement and lovingly sucked Gary’s cock into my mouth.
“I told you the fucking whore would be back for more,” I heard Gary telling my husband, and he had a tone of triumph in his voice.
I sucked Gary’s gorgeous hard cock for some minutes. Slowly pressing my mouth forward onto his cock, and then slowly easing back so that my tongue could slide and slip around and around the hard rim of his cock head.
Suddenly there was a resounding slap across my cheek as Gary pulled his cock away from my mouth. “That will do bitch,” he said. “Get inside and I’ll thrash the fuck out of you.”
I shuddered but immediately obeyed and moved towards the house.
Inside I was led to the bedroom where I was told to lie face down with a heap of pillows beneath my hips so as to present my naked bum high in the air and ready for whipping.
Gary now selected the multi-strand leather lash that had hurt me so much on the previous occasion. Moments later I heard the swish of leather sizzling through the air and immediately the leather strands impacted my soft flesh and I felt a sharp biting pain surge across my bum, stinging horribly.
I involuntarily gave a squeel of pain and a whimpering gasp.
“Nice?” Gary laughed.
“Nice for you,” I replied as I waited in trepidation for the next lash.
My words were cut off in another cry of pain as the leather strands splayed out over my bum and their individual thongs each stung painfully, leaving my bum stinging.
The thrashing kept on and soon I was gasping and half whimpering with cries of distress.
The pain of the lash was stinging and biting. Gary kept it up continually without pause.
Soon my fingers where clawing at the bed as I struggled to withstand the pain. My tearful face was pressed against the sheet as I gasped and panted and cried out as I tried to maintain my position and keep taking my beating.
Eventually it was more than I could voluntarily suffer and I quickly began to wriggle off the bed, protesting that I could take no more but knowing from my previous experience that I would be forced into taking more. My bum was like fire and the cruelty of the lash had left my body in constant sensation of the sharp, burning pain.
“Time you were tied down then,” Gary said sadistically as he tossed the lash aside and took up a handful of leather restraints.
“No, no, I can’t take any more,” I sobbed as he told me to hold my wrists for him to buckle.
A swift lash across my breasts with an end of leather made me shriek. “Hold your wrists out,” Gary repeated demandingly.
I stood there sobbing as I held my wrists out and watched Gary firmly buckling them into the leather straps.
I lay back onto the bed sobbing pitifully and felt my arms stretched firmly apart as Gary fastened the straps to the bed.
I was soon screaming uncontrollably as the thrashing continued on and on. In between my screams I was crying and crying and crying.
My body and mind knew nothing but pain. My whole world, my whole existence was horrible, agonising, stinging pain.
Eventually the whipping ceased and I lay there an exhausted, spent, sobbing wreck, unable to move.
“Fuck!” I heard my husband exclaiming enthusiastically. “Isn’t that fucking fantastic!” “Look at her, she’s just absolutely fucked!”
“What about some electric shock torture next,” I heard Gary laugh. “No!” I cried in terror. Gary’s words having instilled me with animation once more, but my fear was only greeted with laughter.
Now then my dear readers, I was, at that stage of proceedings, already a bit vague as to what was happening around me. You can well understand then, that when my electrocution got under way I was half out of my mind with the ghastly horror of it all. For these reasons my dears, you are to have the benefit of now following the tale from Gary’s point of view.
I now pass my narrative to Gary.
This was the most fabulous thing that I’d ever experience. My cock was huge, red and throbbing as I looked at Yvonne laying there sobbing. Her ass was glowing red and was striped with raised whelts of an even more fiery red. A few of those whelts had strayed down her thighs in a criss-cross of red abrasions and had invoked especially agonising screams from her when the whip had landed.
I leaned over her body which was shuddering with her pathetic sobbing. Unbuckling the leather straps from her wrists, I rolled her onto her back and gave her a firm slap over her face. “Come on Yvonne, that’s finished for now, time for something else.”
She began to control her emotions and her crying, and eventually sat herself up on the bed.
Opening a cupboard I took out the electric device which consisted of a large, thick metal dildo attached by insulated wires to a couple of metal clips, all of which were wired to a black control box.
Smearing a bit of petroleum jelly over the metal dildo, I handed it to Yvonne and told her to work it well up her cunt.
She knelt with knees apart and began to work the device up herself, pausing when I told her that this treatment would send her crazy, but then continuing until the object all but completely disappeared right up her cunt.
“These can clip onto your nipples,” I told her as I snapped the clips open and closed menacingly. She now pulled her shoulders back and thrust her breasts out for me to clamp her nipples.
She gave a whimper as the clamps squashed into place, but then knelt there in a lewd and lascivious manner, awaiting my pleasure.
My hand trembled in sadistic anticipation as I reached for the control box. I had inadvertantly shocked myself with it when I’d first made the device, and knew that it delivered some horrendous bolts of electricity.
I glanced at Yvonne’s husband who seemed content with what I was about to do.
I turned the control dial half way and flicked the switch.
The result was fabulous. Yvonne’s mouth gaped as a half a scream was choked off by the total paralysis of her muscles as the voltage raced high. Her eyes bulged and her body shook and quivered to the frequencies of the surging currents and voltages that pumped through her body from her cunt to her tits and back again.
She fell forewards on the bed her arms and legs jerking uncontrollably and her body shaking violently.
It only lasted some ten seconds or so before the circuitry automatically reduced the voltage and then shut down. Immediately that it did, Yvonne let out an uncontrolable, blood curdling howl and tried to struggle up from the bed.
Her face was fabulous, reflecting the horror that she was experiencing. She seemed to be grasping to try to remove the dildo electode from her cunt, but was completely disoriented and found that her limbs would not respond to her wishes so that her hands merely fumbled about at her cunt without achieving any result.
I gave her a light shove, causing her to fall backwards. I then reactivated the device and the same partial screech half emanated from her throat before being choked off by the surging voltage. Her mouth gaped, her eyes bulged. Her body glistened with a light moisture of perspiration as her body twitched and shook violently. I took up a leather whip and gave several violent lashes across her breasts, leaving fabulous red abrasions in their wake.
Yvonne’s horror lasted much longer this time as I’d wound the control dial higher.
This time, when the machine shut down, Yvonne had no ability to move whatsoever. She just lay there blubbering, a mental and physical wreck.
Several more times I activated her body. Each time being fascinated with the uncontrolled leaping and lurching of the slut’s body as every nerve was tortured into stretching or contracting her muscles causing her body to jerk about in fantastic, random actions.
After watching her fabulous and fantastic convulsions I unclipped the cables from her breasts and knelt astride her face and pushed my hard, cum dribbling cock into her mouth. Unfortunately the bitch was too fucked from the electrocution to be able to suck on me, she just continued blubbering in a half witless manner.
I tipped her over face down and dragged her senseless body to the edge of the bed so that I could get to fuck her ass. I pressed the hard, bulging head of my cock into the tight bud of her ass, then slowly pressed forward and slid my massive cock right up into her tight little shit hole. I reached around her shoulders and tightly grabbed her small tits in my fists and began to squeeze and twist.
I pumped and pumped my cock slowly, lustfully, in and out of the whore’s body, driving hard up her until my belly pressed hard against her glowing and marked ass, then slowly eased back until my cock was all but out. On and on I fucked her in this way, occasionally withdrawing my cock completely so that I could admire the gaping hole of her ass that my thick cock had stretched wide.
Slowly, slowly, Yvonne’s sobbing subsided and slowly, slowly was replaced by sounds of lustful enjoyment as I buggered her asshole.
I held myself in check for a long time but then as my lust increased as I fucked the meat I felt my balls swelling and soon my cock thrusts became deep and violent and my cum gushed forth into the whore’s ass.
I lay there on top of her, exhausted. Finally I stood up and rolled the bitch over. Her tits were red from my crushing grasp. Her face was tear stained but in spite of all, she managed a slight smile.
The fucking whore!
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Stephanie Twist
I’ve written a several books, and I just thought I’d post a few sample chapters on here just to see what kind of response they get. Comments are welcome, but my computer is a dinosaur without spellcheck, so give me a bit of a break there. I hope you enjoy.
“RUNAWAY” Chapter 5 “Meeting The Belt”
Follow along as Holly, traveling by the name of Sammi Shepherd, hitchhikes across the country facing the dangers of being an attractive young lady, while having daydreams and nightmares about the sexually depraved things Roger did or arranges others to do to her, while she does everything she can to establish a new identity and life for herself. You can find the other chapters as well as my other stories here: https://www.sexstories.com/profile269763/brokenwing
God is a Slut Chapter 8: The Final Test
The story reaches its climax as Rachel tries to defeat Lucifer at her own game, all while wrestling with her own feelings for the devil. I included an extensive epilogue that resolves open plot points and catalogs the fate of minor characters that have appeared throughout the series.
Step Daughters’ Desire chapter 5
Slave Sandra hesitates and question a command and tries to push her task off on her younger sister. For this Master Frank beats her, forces her to multiple orgasms and lets the family dog fuck her while she is tied to a bench.
Rachel’s Debt (Chapter 3 – The Past and the Pain)
Rachel discovers a key to my past and tries to use it to end our arrangement; however, she doesn’t understand quite what she has and it costs her.
When In Rome
Author’s Notes[b]When In Rome isn’t exactly a series of erotic stories. When it’s completed, it will (hopefully) read more like a novel. Plot, subplots and all. There will be (on average) three separate scenes from three separate Point(s) of View (POV) per chapter. While every chapter will have sex in one form or another, every scene will not. If you want to skip through and only read the sexy bits, every chapter will be headed by listing which scene(s) in that chapter include sex.
Chapter one starts with a fairly vanilla blowjob, but don’t worry. The sex gets dirtier and more violent. And will continue getting dirtier and more violent throughout the series.
I hope you enjoy.
Each POV will be headed by the character’s name.
_____________________________
CHAPTER ONE:
Scene 01: Appius – Sex? Yes.
Scene 02: Callia – Sex? Yes.
Scene 03: Cassius – Sex? Yes.
_____________________________
[center][b]APPIUS[/center]
Lykos was the most powerful man in Rome. And he wasn’t even a true fucking Roman.
His mother had been a Greek whore, but a beautiful one, gifted to Lykos’s father by a rival he’d later killed in his sleep.
His money wasn’t the reason he was respected, though he was rumored to have more than the Emperor. It was not his skill in battle (which was legendary, Appius knew all too well – he’d served with him in the Roman Army). Nor was it the five vicious, sword-wielding, murderous sons he’d fathered. Though they were legends of their own.
It was his whores. Lykos had the best whores in the world. He catered to every whim, every desire. Legal or not, moral or not… you could get it from Lykos.
At least that’s what Appius had heard. It had been fifteen years since he’d last stepped foot in Rome. Almost that long since he’d seen his old friend. He was only here to… pay a debt. Right a wrong.
It hadn’t been hard to find the find the place.
Mention Lykos’ name, and any man with two denari to rub together could give you directions. It wasn’t like you could pass by the building without knowing it was what you were looking for. His friend’s tastes had always verged on the obscene.
The front of the whore house was littered with stone statues; exquisitely carved women with round asses, full breasts and open mouths were crowded around a grotesque rendering of Hades, Greek God of the Underworld. His large stone head was thrown back to the sky in rapture; a stone woman was at his feet, her ass high in the air, her lips eternally circling the head of his cock. Near her knees were two more stone women, one with her face buried between the other’s legs. Various statues surrounded them, all engaged in some sexual act or another.
He’d arrived.
He gave his name to the guard at the door, and paid his way inside.
The air was thick with the the sweet heady scent of wine, and the sweeter smell of poppy smoke. There was music, a hard beat on a drum. And there were women. Naked, all of them. Some were selling their wares right there at the entrance, begging, moaning, screaming as they got filled in every way he could imagine. Some were dancing, their soft skin oiled so that it shimmered in the firelight. Some danced on tables. Some danced chained in cages, pressing their breasts against the bars as they begged to be used by someone, anyone. Every girl was beautiful. Every girl was young. Most looked barely old enough to marry, let alone be selling their cunts in a place where the proprietor claimed to be descended from Hades himself.
“Finally made it back to Rome, I see.”
Appius turned to find his old friend. Age had been kind to the man; he only had a few scars and a head of gray hair to show for the nearly fifty years he’d managed to live.
Appius gripped Lykos wrist as they shook hands. “And in one piece, no less. All I heard on the way back were tales of Hades’ spawn and his famous whores.”
“See anything you like?”
He looked around, but he knew he’d already seen exactly what he wanted. He pointed to a little slut in the middle of the room, apparently glorying in the attention she was getting from her audience.
Lykos’ smile grew wider, and he laughed. “You always had a good eye. Come.”
They rested on twin high-backed chairs as another man rushed off to procure the whore. She turned as she realized she was wanted, her body damp with glistening oil and a little sweat. She pushed her hair, light red – almost blonde, out of her face and bit her bottom lip as she watched him. He watched her too. She was young enough, new enough to the game to still look sweet. Her body was slim and soft, and he could see the firm hint of muscle in her belly, just above her tiny, almost hairless little cunt. He reached for her as she came to him, just grazing his fingers over her pussy. Her breasts were small, but they were firm, and her little pink nipples were already hard.
“You like her? She’s called Callia.”
Callia, his pretty little whore, was already wet as he slid a finger between the lips of her pussy. Her little pink tongue darted over her top lip as she watched him with heavy lidded eyes.
“I like her very much.” Appius worked his finger into her tight little hole, and then deeper as she gasped.
Callia giggled as Lykos slapped her ass.
“Come here, show my friend what you’ve learned.”
She smiled, both proud and excited, as she dropped to her knees as Lykos’ feet. He adjusted his robes, and the girl wrapped her lips happily around the head of his cock. After a few strokes of her tongue, she winked at Appius, and he watched, cock throbbing, as she took the other man’s cock between her pretty little lips. She was on her knees, but she spread her legs wide open as she took his cock deep into her throat. He heard her soft moan as she took it all, her little hips rocking in pleasure as her mouth hit his pelvis. Little slut had swallowed the whole thing. And she wasn’t finished.
She bobbed her head back and forth, fucking his cock with her throat in quick strokes. Her little cunt was glistening wet. She barely took time to breathe.
“That’s enough. Off.”
She pouted as she sat back on her heels, her eyes still longingly fixated on her boss’s cock.
Lykos nodded his head toward Appius. “Now him.”
Her eyes flashed with excitement as she climbed over to sit between his knees.
She grinned at Lykos as her fist circled Appius’ cock. “Yes, Father.”
He barely had time to react. Her mouth was already on his cock, her expert little tongue working over his shaft, getting him wet and ready for her mouth. His cock throbbed as she placed a soft little kiss on the head, and he glanced over at Lykos as she began to slide him down her throat.
“Father?”
Lykos laughed. “Forgot to mention that, did I?”
“Wasn’t aware you had a daughter.” Appius groaned as she guided him past her mouth, hands curled into fists as the tip of his cock worked its way into her hot, tight little throat. He thrusted his hips up, just the slightest bit, to feel her tighter around him.
“Its been awhile. I didn’t have her when you last saw me.”
He looked down at the little whore at his feet, his cock sliding between her full little lips as her father watched. “And how is it a daughter of yours is on her knees sucking cock in a whore-house? I find it hard to believe your wife would allow it.”
“She doesn’t belong to Lyssanda. Whose dead, by the way.”
That made more sense. The slut had fair skin, big blue-green eyes, light hair. Even more telling, she was, as far as he could see, pleasant to be around. Obviously not Lyssandra’s child. He fucking hated Lykos’ wife. Always had. Couldn’t say he was sorry to hear that. He doubted Lykos was either.
He groaned as her hand cupped his balls, her mouth fucking his cock at a furious pace. He was too close, and he was enjoying this far too much to let her taste his cum this soon.
He slapped her hard across the cheek and fisted his hand in her hair. “Slow the fuck down.”
She jerked. Her watery eyes lowered away from his as her father laughed. Her cheek bloomed with the red imprint of his fingers.
“Little whore gets too excited sometimes.”
She slowed. Obediently. He liked that in a whore. He leaned forward, rewarding her with soft slaps to her little tits. Her throat vibrated around his cock as she moaned, and tightened as he pinched her nipples between his fingers. He slammed his cock harder down her throat as he stood up. He took her by the hair, and guided her head. He wanted it faster now. He looped her hair around his fist, pulling her hard, yanking her head back and forth as he set the pace. He could see the saliva, wet around her mouth as she gagged around his cock. Patrons and whores alike were watching him fuck her throat, and he liked it.
“You like that?” He asked her, knowing that she did. Her round little ass was up in the air, her hips rocking back and forth and her strangled, muffled cries carried over the music as his cock pounded into her little open mouth. He watched her eyes as his dick disappeared and reappeared past her lips, watched as her mouth stretched wide to take him. She was sucking hard, her little pink cheeks hollowing and her tongue worked fast little circles on the underside of his shaft even as she choked.
She sucked a dick like she was born to do it. Her cheeks flushed, eyes half-closed, pussy soaked; she loved it. Loved getting her face fucked in a room full of people, loved that she was being watched, that she was desired. He wondered if she liked that her own father was watching.
“Stay on your knees, lean back, open your mouth,” he commanded.
She obeyed. Her little breasts shook as she panted. Her eyes were watering from the assault on her throat, but she opened her mouth wide. She wanted his cum. She was desperate for it.
“Please,” she begged. She squeezed her tits with a soft little whimper as he stroked his cock. He was so close to her that his dick slapped against her lips as he pumped his fist over the length.
He groaned as he finally came. Thick cum hit her lips, her nose, her tongue. She whimpered, struggling to keep her mouth open. Her tongue twitched, she looked like she was fighting herself not to try to lick the cum off her lips. When he was finally spent, she closed her eyes, head tilted back. She trembled as he looked down at her, her pretty, lightly freckled face covered in his cum.
“Swallow it.”
She grinned as she obeyed. Her moans were soft, but he heard them, as she licked the cum off her lips.
“Good girl.”
She blushed as she got to her feet, and Lykos pulled her closer to him. His hand snaked up between her legs and pushed to of his fingers into her cunt. He head rolled back, face to the ceiling, eyes closed. Appius watched her thin, young little body shake as her father finger fucked her cunt right there in the open.
Lykos slapped her ass and beckoned to two of his guards. “Take Callia to be cleaned.”
Her eyes widened like she’d just remembered something and her hands flew to her mouth.
“Yes, yes. Your brother is waiting for you. Go.”
Her body shook as the guards took her by the arms. She looked afraid.
Appius had heard all about Lykos’ sons. There wasn’t a man in the country who didn’t fear them. Especially the eldest, Cassius. He’d met him, some fifteen or so years ago. He’d been a sullen, angry fourteen year old boy who wanted nothing to do with anything but a sword.
Apparently he’d grown into a fearsome man. He hadn’t expected anything less.
He felt sorry for the poor little whore if that’s where she was headed.
[center]CALLIA[/center]
Callia shifted, wincing as the stone floor dug hard into her knees. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest. The chain attached to her metal collar was jingling; that’s how she knew how badly she was shaking. Her stomach churned, her was mouth dry. Tears gathered in her eyes. She was having trouble catching her breath.
She was chained to the bedpost of her oldest brother’s bed, and she’d been late getting to his room. She was supposed to be getting ready when her father had called her over to suck that man’s cock. She’d forgotten that Cassius was expecting her, but even if she hadn’t forgotten, it wasn’t like she could have told her father ‘no.’ Lykos expected complete obedience from all of the women he owned, and she was no exception. The fact that she shared his blood made no difference to him. Her mother has been a slave. That made her a slave as well.
Her brother’s slaves had been furious when she’d arrived late. They were usually gentle with her as they prepared her for him, but not this time. She wasn’t the only one who would be punished, even though it was her fault alone. So they’d bathed her with water far too close to scalding, scrubbed her skin with wire brushes until she was bright pink and begging them to stop. They had been gentle when they held her legs open to shave her, though. Cassius would have been livid if they’d marred her skin before he got his hands on her.
Now she knelt, freezing on the stone floor. Her skin had been freshly lotioned so it would be supple and soft under his hands, and his cane or whip. Her hair was still damp, curling softly around her face.
She trembled, from both cold and fear as the door opened. How angry would he be with her? She tried to keep her eyes trained on the floor, but he was undressing. He didn’t look at her or speak to her as he took off his clothing. He never did. It was their secret little game. She’d pretend like she wasn’t watching him, and he’d pretend like he didn’t notice. It was the only disobedience he allowed.
She dropped her eyes as he stalked over to her, as he stood in front of her. His cock was hard already, long and thick and curved slightly to the left, bigger than their other four brothers’ cocks. Even far bigger than their father’s. She reminded herself not to lick her lips. She had to obey, even though she craved him. Even though she was terrified of him.
He didn’t speak even as he unhooked the chain from her collar and jerked her to her feet. She could tell he was furious; his body hummed with pent-up rage and her stomach dropped into her feet. Would this be the day he lost control? Would this be the day she met the side of her brother that the entire Republic was terrified of? They were both frightened and reverent of him, Rome’s own personal God of Death in mortal flesh.
He pushed her hard against the apparatus he’d had made especially for her body, and strung her arms up and tied them high above her head with coarse ropes. She was facing away from him, her arms tied just high enough that she could barely stand on the tips of her toes. A belt circled her waist, preventing her from any freedom of movement.
She didn’t even have time to brace herself before the first blow. It was the cane. And it landed across the backs of her legs, just under her ass with a stinging thwack. She hissed in air, it felt like a line the length of the cane had been sliced with a straight razor. It burned, even more than usual, on her icy skin. She whimpered. Five more hits followed, each one harder and more painful than the last. Each accompanied by the sound of the cane hitting her flesh, and the burning, searing pain. She slipped, sagging against her ropes. Had it not been for the belt, she’d have hurt herself. Maybe separated her arm from her shoulder.
Her brother was against her back before she could find her footing, holding her still before the belt could dig into her skin. Her toes found the ground again as his lips found her ear.
“You disobeyed me, Callia. What was your order?”
She shivered against him. His skin was warm, hot even and she could feel his cock pressing hard against her back. “I was to go to work. To dance for the men, to let them touch me. To make them want me. But not to let them fuck me.”
His teeth grazed her neck. “So you remembered. I’d hoped you’d just forgotten.”
He pulled away from her, and the cane cracked hard against her ass. She bit down hard, but couldn’t keep from crying out. It hurt; it hurt so fucking badly on her soft, oiled skin. Her breasts heaved against the board, the material rough against her sensitive nipples. His cane worked up her back in strokes that seemed to grow harder with every count. By the time he reached her shoulders, she was choking back sobs.
His hand snaked around her body, and he caught her nipple between his fingers. At first it felt good and then he pinched harder… twisted it between his thumb and forefinger until she cried out.
“Why did you disobey my order?”
She could taste her salty tears against her lips. She’d finally done it. “F-father commanded it. The man was his friend. He told me to suck his cock. I wouldn’t-”
He was back against her, his skin pressing hard against the welts that covered her skin. He kissed her neck before pulling away. He struck her again. And again. This time working his way back down starting at her shoulders. He criss-crossed the strikes over the last set. Her back, she knew, would look like a finely drawn grid. Every lash, every inflamed red strike, would be perfectly equidistant from the last. They would cross in the exact same place, every time. He was that controlled. That methodical.
“You wouldn’t what, Sis? I saw you. I watched. You were enjoying it. You loved that father was watching your face get covered in another man’s cum.”
Callia whimpered after a hoarse, tear-filled laugh. Her voice was raw. “Of course I did.
She tried to turn to face him. He moved so that he could look in her eyes.
“Thats what I was trained for. How old were you when you got your first wooden sword, Cassius? Before you had ever received one day’s training? I was far younger than that when I began mine. I was taught, and trained and educated on how to please. How to dance, how to tease. How to suck, how to fuck. I started so early I barely remember the early years. Of course I loved it. How could I not?”
She tensed as his hand neared her face, she never knew if he would stroke her cheek or slap it. He brushed away the tears on her face. She tried to ignore the hope that rose in her chest.
“Who owns you Callia?”
She gritted her teeth against the fear. She knew that answer he wanted. She also knew the truth. She could lie and please him. Or she could tell the truth. No one lied to Cassius.
“Father.” She admitted defiantly, knowing it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Father owns me. Body and mind. He controls when I eat, when I sleep, when I fuck, and if I get to live, Cassius. And daughter or not, if there is ever a day when I refuse him, he would not hesitate, nor even blink, as he killed me.”
Her brother’s body tensed against her, shaking and seething with anger and she knew she’d given the wrong answer. When his blue eyes met hers, she was paralyzed with fear. She’d never seen that much rage in one man’s face. She should have lied, she should have-
He jerked her face to his, their noses touched. His jaw clenched and she could feel his hand shaking, jerking with fury. But his voice was quiet. Calmer than she’d ever heard him. It was terrifying.
“Do you think I’d let that happen?”
Her body sagged with relief. She finally felt like she could breathe. She leaned her face against his, and his lips found the tears on her cheeks.
He licked away the salty tears on her face and stepped behind her. He kicked a step between her legs for her to stand on, and moved the belt up, holding her in place at the perfect height for…
“Tell me, little sister. Do you think I’d let him?”
“No.” She breathed hard as he pushed her legs open. Her wrists were still tied, the coarse material chaffing her skin. She wasn’t wet, not yet. She’d been too afraid; but not afraid of being hurt. Afraid that she’d lost his favor.
He didn’t care. His cock was between her legs, and then, in one fast, painful, burning stoke he was inside her. She screamed against the board she was tied to as he filled her. His cock, it was so thick. So hard, it hit so deep inside her cunt. It even hurt when she’d had time to fully prepare, time to get wet… But he liked it when it hurt her. Liked to force his way in dry and feel her cunt get wet around him. And she liked when she pleased him. She could feel his skin against hers as she stilled, and his mouth hot against her neck. His teeth dug at her skin as he stretched her tight little pussy to fit around him. Short strokes, never pulling out more than an inch.
His teeth grazed her ear. “That’s it Callia, just like that. I love feeling you get wet around me. So wet.”
He pulled back, leaving only the thick head of his cock in her pussy, and then drove it back in. Harder, faster than the first. He pressed his chest against her, and the welts from her beating burned and ached, but it didn’t matter. The pain didn’t matter because he was inside her, fucking her, pounding her little cunt while she screamed for him. It was worth it.
He was deep inside her when she felt him fumbling with the belt, could hear his frustrated gasps as he tore it off the board. He pulled out and spun her until she faced him. He stared into her eyes, bit at her lip and knelt to pick up his sword.
She shivered as he traced the razor sharp point up her belly, and up, between her breasts. He turned it horizontal, and held it to her throat as he slammed his cock back inside her. He stayed there still. Watching her, his blade to her throat.
Callia met his eyes, holding herself perfectly still. Still as a statue. And then she squeezed her cunt hard around his cock… and smiled. She felt his cock jerk inside her, his muscles tighten as he stroked one more time. She knew what was coming. She wrapped her legs tight around his back, and his mouth covered hers as he cut the ropes that bound her wrists.
It had been a test. To see if she feared him in that moment. She’d passed.
He wrapped his arms around her, lifted her like she weighed nothing and threw her on the bed. And then he was on top of her, between her legs, cock once again buried in pussy. Where it belonged.
He wasn’t gentle. He slapped her face as he fucked her harder and deeper than any man ever had. He held her hands, still braceleted with rope, above her head, pining her still as he filled her, over and over. Her back arched off the bed as her legs began to shake, and she writhed underneath him.
“Cassius.. I’m-”
He kissed her neck softly before his hands moved to circle her throat. “I know. Cum for me. Cum with my cock inside you.”
His hands tightened on her throat as her cunt tightened on his cock. Her screams were muffled, and he choked her, hard, as her wet little cunt shook around his cock. Her eyes were wide open, watering as she struggled to breathe, struggled to scream… but it was Cassius’ name on her lips as she came with her brother’s cock deep inside her.
He released her throat as she collapsed, breathless and smiling, back against the bed.
The door slammed open. She barely tilted her head until she she could see her brother. Well, a different brother. Marcus. The youngest of the boys, but still almost six years older than her.
“Cass, they’ve found another one. We need to leave now.”
Cassius ignored him. She smiled. He wasn’t done with her yet.
[center]CASSIUS[/center]
Fucking Marcus.
He ignored his youngest brother as he drove his cock back inside his sister’s wet, still trembling cunt. She was breathless underneath him, pussy still gripping his cock hard, still shuddering with aftershocks. He’d wanted to taste her, kiss her mouth, bury his face in her neck as he filled her with cum… but they had an audience now. He would not show his brother his weakness. He only had one. He’d kill anyone. Sit back and watch anyone be killed if he could gain from it. Brothers, father… He hadn’t shed a tear or blinked an eye when his mother died. But he could not lose Callie. He’d kill anyone who tried to hurt her. No one could know that. Because then she could be used against him.
They all fucked her. His father, all of his brothers. But she meant nothing to them. She was just a pretty toy to be played with. Something to amuse them, to pass the time.
He needed to hurt her. Needed Marcus to see. He hauled his hand back and slapped Callia hard across the face. He felt the slap himself. His palm stung, but she’d squeezed tight around his cock, and her hips pushed off the bed, driving her little cunt up to meet him.
He could hear himself, a low, steady growl barely audible over her frantic cries. Could hear the sound of his cock driving inside her, his balls slapping against her ass.
Her lips were full, red and swollen from his rough kisses. Her eyes were still watery and his hand print blazed red and angry on her cheek. Her throat was red and raw. He knew that tomorrow it would be bruised with the perfect impression of his fingers and every time he saw her he’d think about his hands on her throat and that look in her eye. Fuck, he needed to slow down. Slow.
He hovered over her, her back arching as she grinded against his cock. If he was the type to smile, this was one of the rare moments when he would. He turned to look at his brother, a look that had prompted many a man to turn tail and run. A look that promised a slow and painful death.
“Enjoying the show, Brother?”
Marcus shrugged. “Seen better. Done better, probably to the same whore.”
Cassius tensed. He was not going to kill his brother. He wasn’t. He repeated that to himself. Made it a mantra. “Get out Marcus. I’ll meet you downstairs when I’m finished. Go.”
Marcus was only twenty. And not that bright. But for once, he listened.
Cassius waited for the door to click shut, and this his mouth was on Callia’s.
He slid inside her, his pace still slow. But deep. If he slowed his strokes he could go so much fucking deeper inside her, drive it up until his sister’s pretty little eyes rolled back in her head.
“I love hurting you, Cal.”
She smiled. It was a weak, exhausted, sated smile and it made his fucking cock jerk.
He wrapped his hands around her throat. One last time. He tightened them as he impaled her, his hands catching the breath in her throat. He choked her, watching her gasp and struggle against him as he pounded her cunt, fucked it raw, made sure she’d be sore afterward. His cock throbbed inside her as he watched her face turn red. He could push it to the last second. She wouldn’t fight him. Even as his cock drilled her and she gasped for air and started to go limp and dizzy, she wouldn’t try to pry his hands off her neck.
She stared up at him, choking, and he stared down at her tear filled, bloodshot eyes. There was fear in her gaze. Of course. But there was something else, something he’d never seen in the eyes of another human soul, not even his brothers. Trust. No matter how badly he hurt her, she knew she was safe. He lov- Don’t even think it, Cassius.
He let her go, and she gasped and choked against his mouth as he came. He covered her body with his, spilling hot, thick cum deep inside his little sister’s soaking wet cunt. He could feel her shaking again, coming again with him, his mouth catching her screams as she did.
She was breathless, still whimpering as he pressed his forehead to hers.
“I want to kill them all Callie.” He finally admitted, his cock still buried inside her.
She looked up at him, exhausted and completely satisfied. “Who?”
“Every man I see inside your mouth. Inside your cunt. Or your ass. Every man that touches what belongs to me. And when I see you cum, screaming like that with another man inside you… sometimes I want to kill you, too.”
Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”
He smiled. He couldn’t help it. He kissed her lips.
“Never,” he promised.
“You want me all to yourself?” She grinned as if that were the craziest thing she’d ever heard.
“No.” He watched her tremble as he ground his hips against hers. “I still want to see you get fucked. But I want them to have to go through me, to know that the only reason they get to touch you is because I allow it. I want them to know that I own you.”
She bit her lip as she grinned up at him. “I’d like that.”
He sighed. There was work to be done. He pulled his cock out of her pussy slowly, watching her shudder. “Clean me up, Callie.”
She smiled and got to her hand and knees. She knelt between his legs and he stared at the patchwork of angry red welts on her back as she licked his cum and hers off his dick. He closed his eyes, reveling in her soft moans as she kissed and licked and sucked him greedily.
He stroked her face one last time as she helped him dress.
“Stay in here tonight, Callia. I’ll tell father that I wasn’t finished with you. I want you in my bed when I get home.”
She looked puzzled. Unsure. Scared, even. “You… you want me to sleep in your bed?”
He kissed her forehead as she strapped his sword to his waist. “Yes. Now turn around. I want to see your back one more time before I leave.”
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