I struggled, I just couldn't struggle enough to get out of his grasp, his strong hands holding both of my hands behind my back. As he rubbed me, teased me. . . I felt so worthless. He pulled my hair and made my eyes water. . I began to cry around that time, but he didn't notice. He tied me to a chair in my own house. The ropes stung as they were tightened around me, I was trapped. Even without those ropes, there was no chance of freedom, it just turned him on to see me tied up.
"Its your fault for teasing Witney. In fact, its your fault for being a little slut. " He laughed in my face at my own ignorance. More tears ran down my cheeks.
"Boo hoo" he mocked me.
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I was 17, and probably the most ignorant out of all my siblings. I was the one that led him on. The one who was to blame here. The same one, that wore really short skirts, and left my blinds open at night so he would see me change.
Turner was 21, he was well muscled and had very defined feautures. Out of all the men id met in this new town, he was the only that had shown no interest. So I decided to tease him. . . make him want me.
And now I was tied up in my own house, my own living room, while the rest of my family were on vacation. I had wanted to stay. I don't know why now.
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. . I couldn't have forseen this.
He took out his dick and started jacking off. . He grunted and groaned in pleasure as his hand worked up and down his shaft. As he played with his balls, and furiously told me what a little slut I was, im sure that turned him on too. . He had his head almost level to my face. I figured he was gonna make me suck it. .
Until he busted his load all over my face and told me to use my fingers to clean it off, and then lick it off my fingers. . He untied my hands.
I had never done anything like that.
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In fact id never had a guy cum on my face before. Though I have to admit it was arousing. . So I did as he told me, like a little slave.
I even licked my lips after words. His cum was of course salty, kind of a framiliar taste, and I loved it. .
He tied my hands back where they were and started rubbing my clit, he did it slowly. . And then stopped right before I reached my peak.
Teasing me, god I wanted to be fucked so bad.
He waited a little bit, then stuck his prick in my mouth. It grew larger and it gagged me.
I sucked, and he grabbed my hair and began pusshing my head deeper onto it. He tasted amazing.
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Though somehow I still wanted him to think I hated all of this, that this was torture. It was kind of like roll playing. . But better in my opinion.
He shot his load deep down into my throat, I could feel the warm liquid washing down. I wanted that inside of me. . .
"Please don't fuck me!" I yelled, hoping that it would make him want to. .
He didn't really say anything, he just knelt down and shoved his face into my pussy, fingering my whole with his tounge and flicking my clit. He rubbed and sucked, and found all my special places untill once again I was about to orgasim and he pulled away and watched me suffer.
I needed him inside of me. .
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Finally after torturing me like this for what seemed like hours. He untied me from the chair and bent me over.
His large prick rammed inside of me with such force I almost fell over. It hurt. . . he was the biggest id ever had, and so I was not used to that.
The stubble of his hair tickled as he entered, but barely for one minute because he shuved it in so fast. I couldn't help but to scream, and I didn't know if he knew wether in pain or pleasure.
That was a personal satisfaction to me. .
He put my right leg on the chair so he could get deeper inside me. And once again he slammed himself into my tight little pussy. .
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. he felt impossibly deep inside of me. It was incredible. He slapped my ass with incredible force several times, and even slapped my face sometimes. He loved when I got mad and tried to struggle again.
Each time it was unexpected.
At some point I just closed my eyes and started moaning uncontrollably.
"You like this huh? You dirty little slut, you love when I fuck your cunt" he moaned.
Everytime I thought he couldn't do it harder, he found a way.
His speed increased a lot, and he was going in and out of me so fast we probably looked like animals.
my forhead was beaded with sweat, I tried not to moan to much, I still got a kick out of feeling like it was by force. And it was somewhat. . . but as I loosened up to it, it was an incredible thrill.
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I orgasmed and moaned so loud it was impossible not to feel exsauhsted afterwards, so he plopped out, and started fingering me rapidly. Then he fingered my ass hole, which was a shock, and an unexpected feeling. He then put his head up to the enterance of my asshole. And I screamed in protest.
He pushed it in, as hard as it mightve been, he succeded, and now I was crying again. . It hurt so bad, I didn't wanna do that. I tried strugging again but he grasped me tight and rammed into my ass again and again, each time it hurt. Until finallly my ass started to grind back into him and I started moaning . . I liked this feeling. . A lot.
And so it was impossible to hide this one. This new sensation taking over my body.
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So I got into it as much as possible and didn't give a shit if he knew I liked it.
He slapped my ass, harder then any other time and I whailed in pain. He just groaned at that and pumped even faster. He pulled my hair so hard my head was forced to tilt backwards. . .
And finally he tired of me, and pulled out. He untied me, and I fell over, I just didn't even have the energy to hold myself up. I fell asleep, and woke up with him gone. . .
I went to go look at myself in the mirror . .
I had hand prints on my tits from him holding onto them like knobs
I had brusies on my ass cheeks. And I was soar in both my asshole and my vagiina.
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I felt so much more loose then when I had started, but I knew it would go back down to size. Though all in all, I was satisfyed.
It was early morning when I looked outside. Right before the sun rises, I looked out my window to see an empty house next door, he was gone, and all he'd left me were these bruises. . A reminder of an incredible fuck. . . .
