BDSM Library: Anal Slut – Part 4

   Once it did, she moaned and let herself sink onto it, resolving not to pull the hurting monster back out, but to let it claim her all the way.  There was still about four inches of black cock protruding from her obscenely stretched asshole when she stopped sinking.  She paused to catch her breath before lifting herself a full ten inches off the floor, the head of his cock still in her, then lifting her feet, her hands pressed on his chest, as she let her hot asshole slowly slide back down the hot, greasy shaft.  At the end of her slide this time, there was only three inches of black cock remaining outside of her, and she reached between her legs to feel the immense girth that impaled her.  She felt that fleeting itch, that elusive, anal-orgasm itch somewhere deep inside her.  She spread her ass cheeks and rocked back and forth, and another two inches of meat disappeared into her ass.  She felt his stomach and balls only an inch from the cheeks of her ass, and she felt an orgasm overwhelm her. Her cunt squirted and her asshole spasmed and she felt herself sink that final inch, impaled on twelve inches of massive black cock.

   He was nowhere near to orgasm however, and when she recovered, he made her start over, sliding her body up and down the shaft, her asshole grasping his rod.  Her Master came over and had her suck him off while she was impaled, and as his cum shot into her mouth she had her second anal orgasm, even more intense than the first.  She had been impaled for almost an hour now, and her ass was very sore.  He made her sit there, motionless, and as she did she felt the fullness, and the soreness and pain, and in spite of herself she came again, sobbing, her body betraying her as it convulsed.  Her Master finally said she had had enough, so the huge man rolled her onto her back, his cock still fully up her ass, and fucked her, pulling his twelve inches out of her and thrusting it back in until he finally came, fully imbedded to the hilt in her ass. 

  After he pulled out, she spent some long minutes cleaning his cock and balls while both men stroked her and told her what a good little anal slut she was.  The black man told her that he had some friends that would like to come over the next day. She shot a quick glance at her Master, the greasy black cock still between her lips, and when he said that would be fine, she just sighed and went back to work.

 

                                                     End…  Anal Slut

BDSM Library: Anal Slut – Part 3

   “I am an anal slut. My ass is available for use by male cock, and I will spread my asscheeks for any male wishing to use me. Thank you, Sir, for using this slut.”  

   She then had to tell the man to spread the word to his friends if he thought that she was a good ass-fuck, and to have them call her Master if they wished to use her.

   When the man left, her Master printed the words out on a piece of paper for her to memorize, and he tested her hourly during the evening to make sure she had them right.

   The next day it was another stranger that showed up at the house. This time though, she was made to slowly strip in the living room, then get into her slave position on the floor while she recited her anal slut script.  Then the man watched as her Master made her take the belt from his pant loops and present it to him so that she may be whipped with it, and whipped she was.  Then she sucked the stranger to full erection, and greased up his cock with her own hands, then presented her ass to him , hands and knees on the floor.  He fucked her long and hard, and her Master again manipulated her clit, allowing her to cum with the man’s cock in her ass.

   Later that afternoon, another man watched as she stood naked in the living room, hands atop her head, while her Master strapped her, front and back. The man laid down on the floor on his back, and her Master had her squat over the man’s cock and take it into her ass, slowly impaling herself. As she ass-fucked herself on the stranger’s cock, her Master took his leather strap and whipped the front of her body; her stomach and the fronts of her thighs, and then directly across her tits. She screamed out in fiery lust, and as the man came inside her bowels, her Master cruelly pinched her nipples, stuck his cock in her mouth, and he came, too.

   Her Master told her that his goal in her training was for her to be able to orgasm just from a cock in her ass with no other stimulation. No touching of the clitoris, no whipping, no pinching of her nipples.  Just the friction of the cock in her anal canal, and the thoughts of what she was doing. She tried. She would get so close, yet the feeling was so fleeting, and then it would be gone. She had practiced on over two dozen cocks now, and could not quite get herself to cum with just a cock in her ass, and she knew her Master was a little disappointed in her.  Then one day a new man showed up. A big, bald, black man. He had the biggest muscles she had ever seen, and when she saw the huge cock on the man she almost fainted as she straddled him.  It took a full five minutes of lowering and raising her body on and off the huge black pole before she could let herself down onto it far enough to let the big black head gain an entrance into her greased ass. 

BDSM Library: Anal Slut – Part 2

   She thought she would die, and her Master put his hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair, and telling her, ‘be still, pet.’  She was trembling as he took the crop from her mouth, stroking the backs of her thighs and her burning ass with the stiff leather.

   She heard the crop whip through the air a split second before she felt the welt rise, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming. A few encouraging words from her Master helped her hold position, and the next twenty three strokes were briskly applied, and at that point she could have cared less who else was in the room.

   Her knees were pulled up as far as they would go towards her head, and she was frantically trying to rub her burning, welted ass on the cool covers beneath her. She felt the bed sag behind her and realized that a man was kneeling behind her. She felt a hard cock bounce off her ass, and heard the unmistakable sound of the lid pop off of a Vaseline jar.  To the side of the bed she could see her Master’s boots, standing next to her, and she now knew that the man behind her was the stranger.  His finger was now applying the grease to her anal pucker, and a finger slowly inserted itself into her asshole, all the way to the palm of the hand. 

   She heard her Master telling her that she was an anal slut, that this is what she had trained for, and as he stroked her hair she felt the strangers cockhead at the entrance to her ass, and she moaned as the flared head made its entrance, slowly easing into her.  The man stopped just inside her, and her Master untied her hands and told her to spread her ass for the man.  She reached back with both hands and pulled her ass cheeks wide, and as she did she felt the cock slide into her ass, until she could feel the hair on the man’s stomach against her beaten ass and thighs.  She began to salivate as she was stretched, the pain giving her a faint pang of pleasure as he withdrew, then slowly sliding into her again. 

   The man was re-positioning himself behind her, and she spread her knees wider, thrusting her ass back to him as he began to increase the speed of his fuck. She had taken six full, hard strokes of cock in her ass when her Master reached between her legs and stroked her clit, and she came against his hand, her cunt squirting on his fingers and her ass clenching on the strangers cock imbedded in her asshole, and she felt the man’s hot spunk squirting into her bowels.

    She was sobbing with the intensity of her orgasm as she felt the man withdraw, and she felt his sperm leaking from her gaping asshole, and then he was in front of her, his shrinking penis covered in the slime of their fuck. She sucked the juices off of his cock, and sucked the sperm from the hair around his balls as best she could, then her Master’s erection was in front of her, and she sucked her Master off with the most loving devotion she could muster, gazing lovingly up into his eyes as he held her head, shooting his seed into her sucking mouth.

  Her Master then made her walk, naked, to the door with man.  She was then made to assume the prostrate slave position, and thank the man for fucking her in the ass. She then repeated the words that her Master related to her. 

BDSM Library: Anal Slut – Part 1

   She had been with him for about a month when it started.  She had committed to being his slave after only a few weeks into their relationship, her life devoted to his pleasure. She found total release in submitting to his desires, and she found him to be a strict but loving Master. 

  She had never taken a man anally before she met him, and he took great delight in penetrating her there; holding her knees hard against her chest while he pressed his hard cock against her greased asshole, slowly letting the head pop into her ass while she gasped, making her open herself while he slid his hardness into her, then slowly withdrawing the entire length, all the way back out, to begin the process again. She was always spanked before the anal sessions, and she could feel the burning in her ass cheeks as she pulled them apart for her ass fucking. 

   He made her beg for them, too. The spankings. And the ass fuckings.  He would spank her soundly, sometimes for an hour or more, until she was reduced to sobbing.  Then he would make her beg to be fucked in the ass.  Even after the spanking, and after all the times it had happened previously,  she never failed to feel a rush of shame and humiliation as she begged for it, begged for the man that had just so mercilessly spanked her, to penetrate her between her spread, burning ass cheeks. He would manipulate the throbbing clitoris that protruded from between her waxed-bare cunt lips with his thumb, and he would make her cum while she was impaled on his cock, her ass muscles clenching the shaft while her cunt convulsed in orgasm. 

   He frequently did not cum while fucking her ass, and he would hold her there, impaled on his hardness, while telling her that she was in training to be an anal slut.  That her ass would be opened by others, and that she would gladly spread her ass cheeks to accept other male cocks, and that she would do it without hesitation.  She always agreed, knowing that it pleased him for her to agree, and her reward was usually more stroking of her clit, allowing her to cum again.  He would then pull out of her ass and straddle her head, and she would open her mouth to take his cock between her lips.  She could smell the acrid smell of her own asshole, and feel the greasy Vaseline on her lips as she slowly, lovingly sucked the hot sperm from her Master’s cock, swallowing it as if were the nectar of the God’s, which, to her, it was.

    She was on her hands and knees on the bed, and had just completed a long session squirming under her Master’s belt.  She held a riding crop between her teeth.  Her Master had told her that he wished to mark her with two dozen welts from it next, and she was to hold it for him, and as she concentrated on not letting it fall from between her teeth, she heard the doorbell ring.  She was told to hold her position as he left the room.  She heard voices; her Master’s and that of another male, and she felt herself flush as the voices entered the room.  Her head was on the mattress, her ass thrust up in the air. Her Master had left the belt draped across her bright red buttocks when he left the room, and he was now telling this stranger about how she had just been whipped with the belt, and that he was just in time to see her be whipped with the crop. 

Passion Under Pressure – Part 2

They stood staring at each other a few moments and then, as if they’d both heard a silent bell, smashed together in violent bear hug. Staggering around the room, they dug their hands deep into each other’s hair, ripping and tearing, as their legs fought frantically as each struggled to maintain her balance against the other girl’s violent pressure. Krys finally managed to trip her brunette opponent but Stephanie’s tight grip caused them both to smash onto the carpet with arms and legs flailing. On the rug they began kicking, punching, slapping and pinching as they rolled back and forth, each trying frantically to pin the other. Their cries of pain mingled with their harsh breathing as the intense exertion began taking its toll.

 

After about ten minutes of viscous back and forth action, their young slender bodies were covered with sweat and scratches but neither showed any sign of weakening. Stephanie managed to gain the upper hand for a moment, her sweat soaked panties pressing down on Krys’ flat tummy as she reached down and dug her claws into her rival’s scratched tits. Twisting and turning the tiny boobs she bathed in the sweet sounds of Krys’ screams but pleasure quickly turned to pain as the redhead’s hands got a double grip on her own pretty titties. They swayed back and forth a few moments, torturing each other’s breasts, both now crying from the pain they were inflicting, until Stephanie couldn’t take it any more.

 

She tried sliding off of Krys but the redhead reached out and grabbed her panties, pulling them down to her knees and exposing her smooth round ass and brown fringed cunt. Krys leaped on the tied up Stephanie and wrapped an arm around her neck, hoping to choke the fight out of her squirming opponent. Stephanie felt Krys’ grip tighten around her windpipe and knew she was in trouble. Kicking and bucking only managed to work her panties down to her ankles. Krys was holding on for dear life, knowing that she was moments away from defeating this bitch and winning Paul all for herself. Then she felt the hand in her panties, followed immediately by a wave of intense pain.

 

Somehow Stephanie had worked her hand back into Krys’ panties and found the crimson bush. Grabbing a patch of pubic hair, she ripped it out by the roots. Krys quickly rolled away, grabbing at her wounded crotch. Quickly kicking off her panties, the nude brunette jumped on the sitting redhead, wrapping her strong legs around her throat and smashing Krys’ head to the floor. Lying on her side, Stephanie ramped up the pressure, squeezing with every ounce of strength she had left in her body as Krys thrashed, kicked and punched her back, desperate to escape. After a few moments of futile struggle, Krys lay still.

 

Stephanie reached down and grabbed a fistful of damp red hair.

 

“Say it!” she growled.

 

Getting no response, she gave a firm yank. Krys moaned in pain. Stephanie pulled harder causing Krys to cry out in agony.

 

“I give up. He’s yours. Let me go.”

 

Stephanie released her grip and stood up. Looking down at her beaten and bloody rival she smiled a small smile and then put a foot on Krys prone body. The better woman had won.

Passion Under Pressure – Part 1

The afternoon was humid and hot. The sizzling sidewalks were a perfect match for Stephanie’s rage. Last night her boyfriend Paul had broken their Friday night date, claiming he had to work late. At 3AM a friend called to say she’d spotted Paul at a club with Krys, a redhead that Stephanie had gone to school with. After receiving the news Stephanie cried on and off for hours but slowly a transformation took place. Her betrayal built from self-pity to anger and from anger to rage.

 

Finally she looked up Krys’ phone number and address in the phone book. When she picked up the phone she was planning to give that cheap bitch a piece of her mind but she never dialed the number. Screaming wouldn’t give her the satisfaction she needed. She needed to face this man stealing cunt woman to woman. She showered and changed into a padded bra, heavy shirt, jeans and boots in preparation for a tough fight.

 

She arrived at her rival’s condo and mashed down the doorbell. When the door flew open she was eye to eye with her hated rival. They were just about the same height, five four or so, though Stephanie looked a bit taller in her boots. Glaring at Krys’ slender frame wrapped in the terrycloth bathrobe, Stephanie figured she didn’t weigh much more than her own 110 pounds. Krys’ long red hair hung down below her shoulders. The brunette couldn’t wait to rip it out by the roots but Krys stopped her with a few sharp words.

 

“Poor baby,” Krys said snidely, “looks like she lost her man.”

 

“Looks like I’m gonna bust you up so bad, he’ll never want to look at you again,” Stephanie growled.

 

“Well, you certainly looked like you’re dressed for it,” Krys said with sneer, “Bet you wouldn’t be so brave without all that padding.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Krys opened her robe to reveal that she was just wearing a pair of green bikini panties.

 

“If you want to come in, I’ll fight you for him,” Krys explained, “But we’re going to settle this fair and square, no padding, no boots, flesh to flesh to the finish.”

 

“Whatever turns you on,” Stephanie snarled, “I’ll kick your ass with clothes or without.”

 

Krys stood aside to let Stephanie in. While Stephanie undressed, she pushed the coffee table into the corner, leaving a large space of living room rug for their battle. Turning around she saw the brunette standing there in just a pair of white cotton panties. Her tits were small but firm, with dark brown aureole around the button like nipples. Her slender body was tanned and toned.  Krys let her robe drop to the floor. Stephanie stared at her rival’s strong, slender body. Krys’ breasts had a slight uplift, which accentuated the puffy pink circles around her pencil eraser nipples.

Kajira – BDSM Story

She knelt before him, awaiting his pleasure. Her nude body covered with a fine layer of scented oils so that she glowed in the candlelight; her head bowed in respect, her back arched to press her breasts out for greater display. She waited, and enjoyed knowing he was drinking her in with his eyes.

Her long dark hair was held back with a single leather strap tying it away from her face, her dark eyes emphasized with eyeliner until she had a stark, gothic look to her. This contrasted with the naturally angelic beauty she had, the innocence and serenity her face exuded.

Her breasts were adorned with shining jewels hanging from each nipple, carefully dangled in place with golden plated nipple clamps. Her shaved pussy lips were likewise adorned, the jewels hanging down between her legs and catching the candlelight, they seemed to shimmer.

As he walked towards her, his hard-soled boots clicking on the stone floor, he toyed with a whip in his hands. She could only see his feet and the tail of the whip switching back and forth, like a cat’s tail as it gets ready to pounce on prey. Her entire body was tingling with excitement and anticipation. She had no idea what he would do to her, and that made the wait delicious.

He paused before her, feet set shoulder-width apart, and gazed down at her. She felt so terribly small kneeling before him, so fragile in his presence. She trembled with excitement and fought hard to keep her breath measured and even.

She heard him breathe in deeply, smelling her, the oils aromatic, sensual, like spices from some far away market place, her own scent mixing with that and her arousal obvious in the air. She smelled like exotic sex and he was savoring her. He enjoyed every aspect of her, and for that she was so grateful to him, to be devoured by him, piece by piece, each morsel coveted and desired in turn.

Reaching his hand out, he allowed the harsh leather tail of the bullwhip to caress her back gently, toying it over her sensitive skin. It was like a long leather tongue licking her all over. She shivered, but held her stance for him.

The whip’s tongue slipped over her shoulder and licked across her breast. She bit her lip to keep from moaning. The rough leather tasted her, savoring her flesh. She was trying not to shake from the thrill. She was not doing a good job. Her body went through periodic spasms of excitement at its touch. At his touch.

The leather pulled away, and again she calmed. He had not moved an inch through all of this, his feet, like stone planted before her. Now his fingers touched her hair gently. He tasted how she felt, and she wanted so badly to just push into his light touch. He caressed her silken strands and then sighed. He loved the feel of her. He devoured another bite.

Music slowly lifted to the air and he tossed the remote to the couch, many feet away. The music was rhythmic drumbeats and cascading tunes. It was exotic and powerful and seemed to penetrate her. He stepped back a step and waited again for the music to sink into her soul and capture her.

She felt it in her soul, and he always somehow knew when it had finally gotten to her. She was Kajira, meant to dance for his pleasure. It was for this purpose she was made. She was pleasure . . . His pleasure.

He watched, and when the music was in her blood, coursing through her veins, he stepped back again and tapped one foot lightly. There was no need for anything grander. That was her beckoning to begin. She rose up gracefully, almost like she floated to her feet, and raised her eyes to him. He was smiling, she had pleased him. Her heart was about to explode in pride and that power swept through her, it was time to dance.

She let the music take her and her body swayed and then turned. Muscles strained and pulled and she seemed to flow from one stance to the next. As she danced he waited and measured. At the perfect moment, his whip swung back and then flicked out like a viper’s tongue, lancing her ass with pain. The pain becoming part of the dance, she swirled and leapt in the air in joy.

She landed gracefully, and her body moved on, never stopping, always in perfect fluid motion. The whip snaked out and cracked again near her feet, making her leap high over it, then above her head and she collapsed and writhed on the floor. The whip and she rose and fell and danced, perfect partners, both so fluid that they held no form for long.

The whip licked her other ass cheek, and her cry of pain melded with the music and became a greater chorus. She spun and faced him for a split second and then dropped and leaned back as the whip cracked an inch above her belly. The two moved with such unison that they were in fact one.

She was on one foot; her body twisted and paused in mid air when the whip cracked between her legs. She could feel its power course through her pussy, her sexuality released and aroused, it joined the dance.

As she moved, one hand found her slit and she bent, displaying herself, spread open for him. She knew that he would see how aroused she was by him. She displayed sex for his pleasure, so that he would know she was always ready to please him. Then she spun and moved to the next pose. Her body tensing and relaxing as she did.

She was, by sheer force of the dance, close to orgasm. The power of being his, of the dance, of the seduction of the whip, brought her to the edge of cumming but she held back. That energy added to the dance and made her more passionate. She danced on and the whip licked across her back, the searing pain making her flesh burn for him.

She danced and danced and the whip licked her all over. Legs, ass, breasts, back, all felt it’s kiss as she danced. She was pure fire now dancing for him. She was in fact pure sex. As she was meant to be for him.

Then the whip shot past her and cracked, the long leather tongue snapping back and grabbing her arm. The force of his muscles pulled her in a spin that ended with her kneeling before him. With a flick of his wrist he looped the tongue around her other hand. She was bound by his whip before him. She looked up, trembling, almost unable to contain her sexuality any more.

He dropped quickly in front of her, crouching like a tiger over her. He slid the handle of the whip back between her legs, grabbed it, and pulled the tongue up her ass crack and across her clit. She cried out in pleasure.

Grabbing her hair, he worked the tongue back and forth across her pussy, the rough leather licking her raw and forcing her bound hands into the act, pulling them down between her legs.

He pulled her hair hard and she arched her back in response, her ass cheeks clenching slightly and increasing the friction. He rubbed her with his leather tongue, her own fingers playing with her dripping wet clit. She cried out . . . begged. . . . pleaded . . . Finally he gave her what she needed.

“Cum.” Was all he said.

Her body convulsed and shook uncontrollably. She felt the fire of pain and passion exploding from her, the leather tongue not allowing her to simply collapse; it kept licking her and licking her until she was screaming out incoherently. She screamed and opened her eyes again, saw his smiling face and then collapsed on the cold stone floor. He released her hair an allowed her to slump into a pile.

With a gentle flip of his wrist he pulled the whip free of her pussy and ass, then another and her one hand was free. He leaned down and kissed her and freed the other hand. Caressing her for long minutes until she knew where she was again, he smiled at her. Giving her a last kiss, he stood and walked away again. His boots clicking on the stone.

She lay there and shook and trembled. She was fulfilled. She was his pleasure. She had danced for him, and in so doing, fulfilled all she was meant to be. She was Kajira. She was made for his pleasure. In this, was she complete.