OK nothing bloody about this one.
It’s only skin
I was working in an accounting office when I first saw him. There was something about him that caught my attention. He was about five foot ten and one hundred and eighty pounds. He had on some polished black cowboy boots, Levi’s, and a light grey dress shirt that sort of matched his graying hair. He was carrying a black leather jacket, like a sports coat not motorcycle, and was carrying an envelope. He was a little old, about sixty, but I was not a little girl anymore either, in more ways than one.
My name is Sarah and I am what the call a BBW. Well they have the B and W right but that middle B still has me stumped. I am five foot four and I have long since passed the 114 pounds of my youth. I have deep blue eyes and long brown hair, with some red highlights in them and they don’t come from a bottle. I am forty five, married, and I have never had an affair, I never wanted to. At least I never wanted to until now.
Men don’t look at me. I am not beautiful, I am big, and I like to eat. I have had one breast removed due to cancer and I am self conscious about it. I guess if I could think about it, maybe I am big because I want people to notice something other than the fact I have only one breast.
Unfortunately my husband seems to be upset with me for getting breast cancer. I mean he is nice enough, and I think he loves me and I guess I love him, but I have a problem believing we are “in love” with each other anymore.
He does not touch me very much, if at all. That is the hardest part of living with him. He ignores me and he does not touch me. We sleep in the same bed and we have sex, if you can call it that, but not the same as we used to have. I don’t mean the burning passion that we had; I mean the closeness we used to have.
So my stranger turns and looks at me. Not in my direction, not at my body, but at me, inside of me. For a brief moment I am afraid, not of being hurt, but afraid of what is going to happen. Now I know what a prey animal feels on the Serengeti when being stalked. We have all seen those pictures as the lioness walks at the outside of a herd of prey animals. They are not so much afraid as they are cautious of any sudden movement. But he is not a lion; he is more like a wolf, but he still makes me cautious.
The look was the sudden movement I feared, and it could not have lasted more than a second. There was no smile, no frown either. There were no words, there was just the look, the penetrating look that caused me to think he penetrated my eyes and went directly into my brain and took over my thoughts and my feelings.
He is at least fifteen years older than me, and his hair is short and more than just a little grey. He looks like a predator, hair short to be able to keep it clean during and after the kill. Yes his looks remind me of a wolf, a mature grey wolf, but still dangerous. Not that he looks like one, it is the feeling that you get from looking at him, or at least I get it. I am a married woman, maybe he is married to, but I don’t see a ring and he looked at me and I had a damn orgasm sitting at my desk because of it.
The woman in the desk close to mine asked me if I was ok because I was so flushed. She mentioned the change of life, you know, menopause. I smile knowing it had nothing to do with that kind of hot flash, but it sure as hell was a flash, and hot too, so hot that my panties are soaked.
I get up and waddle to the bathroom; I told you I was a BBW, not so much on the beautiful. I was right, soaking wet, and I have to use some paper to keep my dress dry.
When I come out he is gone. I look out the window and he is getting into a Jeep Wrangler, a nice one; one that has been used off road but still is new.
The movement was so sudden it caught me again. As I was looking out the window he suddenly turned and looked right at me. He did not turn and look around but right at me, right into my eyes; he knew exactly where I was standing without looking for me. All those windows and floors, all that space and he looked right into my eyes again. I flushed again. I wish my husband would fuck the hell out of me tonight was my thought as he touched me with his eyes. As soon as I thought it he smiled as if he read my thoughts. Then he got in the Jeep and was gone.
I was waiting for him and looking for him to arrive, but no such luck. Every day was the same, he was not there. I went back to work. It was a pleasant interlude in a horrible life.
I learned his name was Carmine Flow and he was a client of the firm. He had some substantial holdings that produced a lot of income but he did not spend much. I cheated, I looked at his books. So shoot me.
One day I was working hard on the books, my computer screen and I were carrying on one of those love and hate relationships. Suddenly I sensed danger and looking up I saw him as he swiftly push my lunch bag off of the desk and into the trash. He put a bag on the counter and left.
Not one word, no orgasm either, damn, nothing.
Let me guess I said to myself. I am fat and he can see it. He tossed my lunch into the garbage and left me some low cal crap to starve on. The nerve of that asshole I thought. The minute I thought it he turned and stared at me. This time there was a smile. Then he was gone.
I looked into the bag and no low cal rabbit food here. It was a nice fat Rueben sandwich; with all the sides that make it delicious. I love Rueben sandwiches. How the hell did he know that? Inside the bag was a smaller box of See’s candy, raspberry truffles and Bordeaux’s. That was the first day. Over the next few weeks he would just show up to see someone and then drop off something to eat. Never any words, just wonderful food, things I loved to eat. And always a few pieces of See’s candy.
One time it was salami and cheese, Bon Gusto Salami, Swiss Loraine Cheese, a layer of Mortadella, with pistachio, then a nice layer extra sharp Cheddar, and just for a kick, a few slices of Prosciutto Di Parma, just for the salt flavor and a few nice little garnishes, that will not fight the flavors on an Italian roll.
Another day it was a wonderful roast beef dip on a fresh French Country Peasant Roll. The dip was still warm, the roll was fresh and I have no idea where he got it.
Once there was a nice real crab sandwich on a Sicilian roll. And like always, See’s candy.
Nothing that would make you think he wanted me to lose weight or even gain weight; just things to eat. I got the feeling he was intentionally feeding me but I had no idea why. The other idea that crossed my mind is how does he know what I like to eat?
I thought about the wolf and bringing food home to its mate. Stupid thing to think about, I was no ones mate and he was not a wolf, he was just some lonely old man.
For a while he was not around and then he was and then he was gone again. I had a life and I sure as hell could not depend on some old man who was playing games. Why did I think “depend?”
My husband was taking off with some of his buddies to go hunting and that gave me five days on my own. I usually go into Palm Springs or someplace like that when I get time to myself. I like to go to the mountains too, as if living with someone who ignores you is not time by my self.
I had the car packed for five days in the mountains. I would drive up to Big Bear and take a room for those days. If my husband needed me he would call, but he never did. He used to call me all the time but not now. I was not supposed to call him because if he was stalking Bambi might hear it and run away. I had to laugh at that one.
Well I am staying late to close up and let the others leave first. It gives me a chance to change into some comfortable traveling clothes; long skirt and baggy top. I am a big woman. I can’t get on the road because of all the traffic but I will be ok after six o’clock. During the day I move the car right next to the door so I don’t have to walk through a parking lot as it gets dark. Pretty stupid, no one wants a fat old woman anyway.
I follow all the rules. I have the keys out, and I look around as I open the door. I take a second to check that the door is locked and then it happens. I am caught. Somehow my hands go behind my back and I feel the cold metal on my wrist. Before I can every cry out a ball gag is in my mouth and a black bag over my head. It has taken less than ten seconds and I am helpless. I think, I am prey and I have been caught.
I start to fall and I am held up by amazingly strong hands that control but do not hurt. With my hands behind my back it is not comfortable. I think I am sitting in a car and my feet are brought into the floorboard. The cuffs are released only to be fastened again but this time my hands can reach my side and are not under me. He must have put something under the seat to connect the cuffs. Maybe he used a longer chain. What the hell am I thinking that for? What do I care how he did it? The seat falls back, like someone has pulled the handle. I am lying down and I feel the seatbelt put on me. The car starts, it is my car. My hope that someone will find my car and report a problem has just disappeared.
We move and I am afraid. After a while I feel his hand on my legs, rubbing them. He moves my skirt higher and higher; damn I should have worn pants. Who would want to see my legs much less rub then? Not my husband that is for sure. As he rubs my legs I do something out of character. Maybe I am uncomfortable, maybe I need a little air, or maybe I need him to have more room to rub a little higher. I have that feeling again; of being pray on the Serengeti and facing a deadly predator.
I hear the radio, I hear the music, country western, the wolf is back; I open my legs wider. I am trapped and I must comply.
For the next hour and a half I lay on the seat, my legs spread as my captor takes liberties with me. He has run his hand up and down my legs. His touch is tender and at times rough. He reaches up to my panties and they are runny wet.
He makes me lift my legs so that they are apart. I am too fat to put my heels on the seat but he gets me as close to that as he can. I am laying on a car seat and my legs are spread in a V and he is playing with my pussy. I am being forced and I cannot stop him. I am relieved that it is force, I want him to do this, but I cannot allow it unless he makes me, overpowers me, eliminating any guilt for allowing it.
He has not said one word but I know what he wants. He had moved my panties to the side and my pussy hair is like I was just in a shower.
The only one to touch my pussy, my clit and my hole in many years has been my own hand and this one is just as knowledgeable and even more controlling. I have yet to have an orgasm but I have been on the verge many times today.
I can tell his nails are short, and his fingers are long. I wonder what else is long.
I am at his mercy. I remember a long time ago, a quarter of a century, a life time. He was older too, ten years older than me and I was just a young woman, a girl actually, only twenty. He had me worked up and soon he was waiting to enter me. I told him no but he did it anyway. In the end he just said I was not a virgin anymore. It hurt and I got no pleasure out of it. Deep in my mind I had wanted that to happen again. I wanted to be forced and forced to lose my virginity but this time for it to be different. I wanted to feel his strength, I want to be unable to resist, but this time I want to feel the pleasure I have learned can come from sex. I want to be raped but I want my rapist to love me and wash away the pain of a young girl being forced into sex.
Just as those thoughts pass through my mind I feel it hit. The largest orgasm I have felt in a very long time, ripping through my pussy, almost making me bounce and fold in two it is so intense. My juices flood the seat and my skirt. I yell out into the gag. There are fingers inside of me and two of his fingers are massaging and pinching my clit. The orgasm will not stop, he will not stop. I smell myself, I feel the wet. Finally he is just rubbing my pussy, letting my orgasm slow down. His wet hand travels along my legs, and he even puts his hand under the mask and rubs me on my face with his wet fingers.
Then I hear him taking deep breaths and I know it is me he smells. He breathes deeply, very deeply, taking it as deep in as he can. I hear him sucking his fingers, tasting me; he is making a lot of noise doing it. The noise is on purpose, he wants me to know.
Then it dawned on me. We are driving up, and I feel it in my ears. The air is different too; crisp and clean. I smell the trees and plants, earthy smelling. It is so strong I smell it over my own passion, which blotted it out for a while but now that I have calmed down it is present. And the road is winding. Yes we are going up into the mountains. I love the mountains, and I come here all the time.
Then the road changes and it is no longer smooth, but bumpy. A few minutes more we stop. He gets out and I hear him walking to my door. As he opens it I realize my legs are still in the V shape, he can see everything. What the hell I think. He moves around and undoes the seat belt, fondling my breast as he does so. He also takes advantage of my legs and gently rubs my pussy one more time.
I feel him unlock one of the cuffs and hear the chain; I was right, he put a chain under the seat from one cuff to the other. He sits me up and has never said a word to me. The chains go back on, behind my back. He walks me over to a step or two and finally tells me there are four steps and to be careful. He removes the ball gag but keeps the black hood on.
The smell of the forest is overpowering. We are deep in the forest.
“I have to use the bathroom” I finally address him.
He says nothing but walks me to a place and then lifts the hood. I can see the front room and the bathroom. He lifts the cuffs and unlocks one and then locks them in front so I can use my hands with the long chain that attaches the two sets of cuffs. He says nothing but he pulls the skirt completely off. It has a stretch waist and he just pulled it down, it falls to the floor.
I step over it and go into the bathroom but I have to hold the door frame. His look gave me another orgasm. He smiles and watches as I pee and dry myself. After I wash my hands I turn to look for my skirt, it is gone.
Now I am naked from the waist down, except for a very wet set of panties. I still have on my top though. I am grateful for that. This man wants me and it has been a long time since anyone has felt that way about me. For reasons I do not understand I want him too. I don’t want to take my top off, I am scarred and ugly.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“Yes” I simply say.
He smiles and gets me some water and has me sit down in the chair. It is cold on my big ass. He has me stand and has a towel in his hand. He puts the towel on the chair seat and I smile in thanks until I realize that he has just used a very sharp knife to cut both sides of my panties; they fall to the floor. It is so casual it takes me a second to realize he is talking to me.
“It is not healthy to sit on something so wet” he tells me.
I am still shocked. He has literally fingered me for over an hour, given me countless orgasms and now I am supposed to sit on a towel naked from the waist down.
Then he smiles again and walks a few feet and brings me back a good cold vodka Screwdriver. It tastes perfect.
He gets some rib eye steaks and lets them warm to room temperature as he lights the grill outside. We don’t talk as he goes about his business of making us dinner. I sit and drink and wonder what the hell is going on.
“How do you like your steak” he finally asks.
Those are some of the few words he has spoken. Then he starts on the salad, heats of palm. The potatoes are put into foil and onto the grill, and the fresh corn needs shucking.
I stand and walk over to where he is. I don’t even remember that I am naked from the waist down. I am still chained, I think I like it. the feel of steel on my wrists, the sound of the clinking as I move, the restraint I find when I forget I am chained and try to move both hands in different directions and the sudden restraint I feel when I reach the end of the chain. I start to help with preparations, shucking the corn. I notice a bottle of Gentlemen Jack and looking in the cupboards I find a suitable glass; big enough for ice and water. Then I hear a voice inside of my head and I look at him. I pour a double and leave everything else out, “neat” is his way, I just know it is. He takes it and smiles approvingly.
Words do not seem to be necessary.
As we move in the kitchen I keep touching him. He stops and turns to me. He pulls me into him, and I realize when I feel his pants that I am naked. He touches his lips to mine, and we kiss softly and then drink more deeply from the well. His hands fall to my butt and as he pulls me in I feel his passion through his jeans. It has been a decade since I felt this way; since a man has felt this way about me. We break and smile. He tastes of whiskey and I of orange juice and vodka.
I am still naked from the waist down and he removes his boots and his pants and then his sox and boxers. He is hard looking at me. I am old, fat and scarred, and he is as erect as a nineteen year old with a Playboy Bunny.
He grabs an apron when he puts the steaks on. I am glad of that. I may have plans for the rest of him tonight and I sure don’t want him to burn it.
The steaks are perfect, the dinner is perfect. Desert is strawberries dipped in chocolate with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Demi-Sec.
During dinner he has been feeding me again. He has cut parts of his meal, which is identical to mine but he has been feeding me. He is a very strange man. He is taking care of me. He smiles and he touches me. Not just sexually, he has been doing that too and I can tell he likes my feel and my scent; but he touches me. It has been so long since I have been touched, lovingly.
We sit in a love seat looking out the window at the sky coming to a close. It has been light for a very long time. Maybe it is a bright moon, I am not sure anymore. There are sounds outside of the forest. Crackling of leaves dry from the heat of the day, animal feet sounds on the dry earth, sounds of animals, dogs maybe; no wolves. I hear the sound of wolves.
Carmine does not appear to be alarmed as they are probably just sounds to him, familiar and comforting.
I am still wearing chains but I move easily with them on. Evening has now engulfed this oasis in the forest.
I have some freedom to move around but then I remember that this is not real. I am married and I am sitting around with a man who is not my husband and I am naked from the waist down, as is he. And I can’t forget that he has a hard on, a very nice big hard on. When he looks at me it vibrates.
I must leave and I see that he senses my change of feelings. As I stand the predator in him causes him to react faster than I can think. He has me again, kissing me. I try to fight but he is to strong and is too motivated to allow me my freedom. I feel his hard cock against my skin. It has been a very long time since a man, any man, has wanted me like this. My husband has not been hard with me like this for so many years, since the operation, since the cancer.
He moves me easily from one room into the next, the bedroom. He moves me to the bed and I attempt to fight him off but he is too strong and too fast. My hands are moved as he manipulates them until they are over my head. One cuff comes off and it is slid through the headboard only to return to its original place on my wrist. Now I am chained and he has full control. Looking back he has always had full control.
The knife appears and my top is being cut off of me. First the loose top and then the bra, all disappear. Now I am completely naked. My shame appears for him to see, but he looks like he did before. There is no disgust or aversion to my missing breast or the scars that take its place. Still I am afraid and upset that I am naked, more than just physically naked but emotionally naked. When my husband saw me he found me repulsive and does not touch me; what about Carmine and me now?
He has moved his mouth to my breasts. Yes I say breasts, as if I have two but I don’t. He treats each side as if they are the same.
Now I must put a stop to this. He has taken his shirt off and we are both completely naked. He has a nice body, even for a much younger man. He is not thirty years old and does not look like it, but he could pass for forty if his face did not show his maturity.
He has moved his face down between my legs, following his probing fingers with an equally probing tongue. I am losing control again. I feel his breath on my sex, it is warm, no hot, that is it, and it’s hot. He is as hot as I am.
As in my dream I cannot control what is happening, my older lover is controlling me and I must get free. I cannot agree to sex with him, I must fight for my honor.
This is my dream, this will take away my guilt if I cannot resist. But he is licking my pussy and holding my legs open. No one has been down there in a very long time. I fight to free myself but I am caught and his strong hands hold my legs apart. I realize my loss of any control and as the thought passes through me it is joined by another orgasm.
I squirt into my lover’s mouth. My lover, why did I call him my lover? He is a rapist. He is raping me with his tongue and I am powerless to resist. Another orgasm hits me.
He stops to let me rest, slowly, languidly running his tongue up and around my slit; softly blowing on my clit. He moves up on my body. Now he is kissing and licking my belly, it should be smaller and firmer but he does not seem to care. I try to move my legs together but he is between them and still holding me open as he moves up.
He gets to my breast. He does not hesitate to treat each side the same. He moves from the larger to the non existent side. He works the entire breast on each side, and entices my nipple as much as possible. There is little feeling on the smaller side but he seems to know that. He reaches over to the table, one I did not even know it was there. He takes a mouth full ice water and swallowing some attaches his lips to the removed breast. I may have limited feeling but I can feel hot and cold. Oh god, I can feel on that side again. It is the first time in a long time. He works my nipple with the ice water and then swallows and gets more, with more ice. The ice feels so sexy on my breast.
He changes over to the larger one and manipulates it but now he is touching the missing one with an ice cube. He keeps the attention going to both.
He scares me as he moves higher as if to kiss me. I feel his lips on my upper chest and my neck. He is nipping at me. Then I feel it; his cock. It is hard and he wants to put it into me.
This is wrong and once again I begin to fight him. I can’t move my hands or my legs. I can deny him my feelings, and I can and will deny him the pleasure of a response if that is all I can do to preserve my honor.
My legs are raised, my arms are restrained by the cuffs, and his cock touches my center and moves into me. I try to move so it can’t enter me but I fail. I have come a long way from being a naive farm girl from the Midwest, to a chained victim about to be fucked by a strange man that has kidnapped me.
As he enters me I lose all control. He splits me open and enters my center, which is dripping in contemplation of what is to happen. He moves deeper and deeper and I build again to another orgasm. I try to stop it, I try to remember that I am married, I know I am being forced, that I am not in control, and that is the key for me. I cannot be responsible if I am not in control.
I try to stop myself. Now I am nipping back at any piece of skin I can find. His lips find mine and I can’t even begin to fight his kiss. I scream into his mouth as my orgasm goes on and on. It has been more than a decade without this treatment from my husband I can’t help myself. Soon I just stop moving. That does not work. I feel him getting bigger, I feel him starting to fill me even more than before. I know that he is getting ready to fill me with his seed, he is getting ready to breed me; I move into his thrusts, I lift my ass to meet his downward thrusts. I raise my feet to help me get balance for the push. I change the angle to make sure he can get as deeply into me as possible. My body is getting ready to be impregnated by my rapist, the memory of that time a quarter of a century ago is being replaced with this one.
One final thrust by both of us and I feel the long ago lost experience of a man, longing to be with me, longing to make me his, longing to create life in me, spew his seed deep into my receptive body. There are bright lights and flashes that overcome my body. I am guiltless, I have been forced, and I have not cheated on my husband. My body has just responded to something it could not control, that is all. I fall asleep.
I am dreaming. I am back on the farm, a baby, sucking at my mother’s breast for food. I feel it as I make my sucking movements. I wake with a start. My rapist is looking down on me and the source of my sustenance is not my mother’s breast but his cock. I am sucking his cock. It is expanding again and I taste his juices and my pussy on it. I have never sucked a cock after it has fucked me, never. He is holding my head as he moves into me and out. Again I cannot resist, I am forced to do this. But he is not making me suck because I am doing that on my own. His hand plays with my pussy lips as I suck it back in and feel him begin to shoot into me. I swallow, what else can I do? I cannot drown, I have to swallow or choke. I am blameless. It was a dream and then it was forced.
Carmine looks down at me and smiles as I don’t even think about it and just suck his cock clean. He undoes the chain and takes me into the bathroom. There is a large claw tub and I have no trouble getting in. He washes me down and I still have on the chains but only in front now. If I run where can I go and what can I do? The answer is “nothing.”
He leaves me with some feminine products, for the front and back. I use them and following his instructions and get myself really clean. He comes back later and washes me in rose scented water. Then he dries me and takes me back to the bed, again in chains. He puts me back attached to the headboard and I do not fight him; how can I?
He feeds me Champaign and chocolate and keeps me naked. I look to see he has a glass ashtray full of blue pills cut in half. “For later” he tells me.
He brings me some food, which he feeds to me. Just a snack to keep my energy up he tells me. The warm oil is ready and he rubs my body with it. He is not repulsed by my weight or my lack of one breast. He is excited by me, it is obvious. Then he begins to excite me again. By the time I realize it I see that he is excited too, his excitement stands up tall and proud, not just for a sixty year old man, but for any man. I have had that in me, it is a mighty tool devoted to my pleasure. I am getting wet again.
He rolls me over onto my stomach. He oils my back, my legs, and even my feet and even pours some oil onto my ass. He rubs me with purpose, and that purpose is to excite me. Even though I am his prisoner he treats me with love. I begin to forget myself and move myself into the bed below me.
Now he has me spread my legs, to properly oil me. His oiling routine ends with two fingers deep into my pussy and his thumb in my ass. I feel like a bowling ball. Now I understand why the feminine products. He is using me again, finger fucking my pussy and my ass.
He moves behind me and now his tower of power is placed at the opening to my pussy. I am wet again, he has made me wet. He reaches under me and lifts me slightly and his cock slides in deeply and with ease. He begins to gently fuck me. God it feels so good to have a man fuck me from behind. It has been so long.
Then I come to my senses. “Pleas don’t I am married” I tell him. He pulls out and I sigh, I hope he did not hear that.
Then he pushes back in but this time it is the wrong whole. I know it is a mistake. The oil and the thumb have opened me up and relaxed my butt.
Fuck, his cock head breaks through and as big as it is it is followed by a thicker shaft. I am being butt fucked for the first time in my life.
It is like when I was raped 25 years ago. But unlike that first time this time I am building into a new and bigger orgasm. He is fucking his cock into me and I love it, especially when his fingers end up in my pussy. He is moving deeper and harder. Now he is working my pussy again as well as my tits. Now I call them tits and “them.” I am no longer a monster, because I am a beautiful woman to him. He is not my rapist he is my lover. I move into his movement, I am fucking him back. I don’t want to, I am a married woman, and I am being forced, I am still chained. I have no defense I tell myself. I am lying to myself.
When he splashes the inside of my ass with cum I manage to shoot out some pussy cum of my own. We fall to the side and he stays in my ass, gently rocking.
We sleep for a little while then he gets me up and washes me again.
“Her are your slut clothes if you are going to be my butt slut you have to dress the part.” He tells me.
I tell him I will in the morning and I sleep naked. We go back to sleep and he stops chaining me now. I am not sure of the time. The wolves are howling.
As he sleeps I put the chains on him and I go back to sleep. I am tired but I cannot let this opportunity pass me by. When we wake we will see who is in charge and who the prisoner is.
He wakes to me sucking his cock, I want it hard. I give him a drink and half of a blue pill and he takes both.
“Now you asshole, I am in charge! No one fucks me unless I want them to fuck me. If I want to fuck I am going to fuck.” I sit down on him, and for the first time in my life I am in charge of who gets fucked. I bounce up and down and at times I just slide my pussy over his cock hair, getting me ready to go off. I am a big girl but he does not mind the weight, he never complains.
I enjoy that he is struggling to get free and he can’t do it. “I am in charge” I yell at him. It is wonderful to be in charge.
The excitement drives me into a nice orgasm. “I want more but your little worm is not ready to play again.” Those blue pills are sure nice I think to myself.
I move over his face and let him feel the weight of a recently fully packed, recently fucked pussy. “Lick me! Do what I tell you, get me off.” I tell him.
He is a good pussy slave and I cum all over his face. “Eat it pussy slave. Get used to eating my pussy full of cum.” I taunt him. I am getting back at what was done to me all those years ago.
He eats me well. He likes me and my wet pussy. He drinks in our tastes and juices. It is only fair he cleans what he gets dirty. Maybe I will make him wear the slut clothes.
My orgasm approaches too quickly and I pass out from the control. I can see why men love to be in control.
I wake a few hours later. I feed him another half of the blue pills and I wait for the reaction. In the meantime I suck his slimy cock. “I am doing this because I want to, not because anyone can force me.” I yell at him. Soon he is hard again.
This time he is struggling even harder. He watches as my now bald pussy encases his hard cock. It gets even wetter inside of me. I reach back and pull his cock out of my pussy and put it to the hole in my ass and I change the angle. “Oh yes” I say. I rest on my hands but they are behind me. He has made me into a butt slut. It feels so good. I am lifting myself up and down I tell him “I am in control now.” Still I move up and down as the cock slides in and out of my ass.
I am on the edge, as I start to pass over into another orgasm I feel his thumb in my pussy and two fingers pinching my clit. I am moving up and down as I rest back on my arms. I want him to see my pussy open as I move his cock in my ass. I am panting now.
His thumb and fingers, he is chained, how? He smiles at me. His face is covered with my and his cum. But he smiles.
“We have made a choice, have we?” he said with a smile.
“Yes” I screamed as I realized that I did make a choice. I choose him. I hit another orgasm realizing my choice, “I chose him” I think. “I choose you!” I yell.
He pushes me back even further and I fall completely on my back, as much from the orgasm I just had as his pushing. His cock is still in my ass and he has moved up over me. He has not cum again and he is fucking me with long slow gentle strokes. He holds my hands back and I push my pussy up into his strokes. He kisses me and we duel with our tongues until the passion gets too much and we start biting each other. Not hard but hard enough. Cum in my ass I tell him. Cum in my ass again; and he does.
“And the demons my love, are the demons gone?” Carmine asks me.
“I think so” I tell him. “How did you know?”
“I knew it had to be something like that, a lucky guess” he tells me.
But I do not believe him. That was way too lucky a guess. I will know in the morning, in the morning I will know if the nightmares are gone.
We go to sleep to the sound of wolves in the night howling their greetings to the moon.
He has gotten up before me and I can see he went for a run, his wet running clothes are on the line to air dry before he washes them. He has taken a shower, it is wet. Even his razor is wet.
I get up and my ass and pussy are sore. It feels good. It has been forever since my pussy was sore from a good fucking. I don’t think I had those dreams again, the rape dream. Maybe it is gone.
I wash myself well, including my ass. “He will want it again today.” I think to myself. I shave everything all over again. I can smell the food cooking. He is feeding me again, just like a wolf.
I see the clothes on the dresser, and they are the ones that will make me look like a cheap whore and a slut. I put them on; I do it for him. I put on the garter, nylons, and the spandex type dress that barely reaches a few inches below my now bald pussy. It has an off the shoulder side and it hardly covers my tit. I put on the three inch heels. I look at myself in the mirror. I look cheap and slutty.
He has just finished cooking and plating the food. He turns to look at me. He is naked and was just wearing an apron that he took off. He stops when he seems me. I am afraid he will not find me attractive like this; just a fat old woman with one tit; maybe he will just laugh at me, at the spectacle I am making of myself.
As he turns and sees me he moves in my direction. He looks good naked. His skin has a healthy glow but what really looks good is his cock. It has been growing since he first saw me standing here. I may be making a spectacle of myself but there will be no laughing. At least part of him will give me a standing ovation. By the time he reached me his manhood is at full staff. He pushes me back so my ass is against the top of the couch as he raises my leg, holding it up. I am dripping pussy juice and he takes immediate action to stop the drip by plugging the hole. His lips find mine, his hands find my tit.
His lips break from mine and fasten on a nipple. His in and out movements reach their limit with each thrust. I push him away and his tool slides out of its proper place.
“Not like this” I tell him. I turn my back to him and lean on the couch. “Like this, do your bitch like this, make me your bitch.”
He smiles and enters me.
“I made all my holes clean for you. Use all my holes, they are clean. Make me yours and make me stay your bitch forever. Make me your alpha bitch, to your being my alpha male.”
After a few minutes I tell him again. “Now my ass, your bitch needs it up her ass too.” My alpha complied and I had another orgasm when he did it, when he forced the helmet into the ring, followed by the shaft. I have not cum this much in more than ten years I thought, if I ever did. Then I realized that I have never cum this much.
Finally it is over and we have both cum. I smile and turn to be in his arms. He holds me and we kiss; differently than just a few minutes ago.
“How did you know” he asks.
“I’m your accountant, or one of them; I know everything about you. I know you are rich, I know you have never been married and have no children. I know you have written a good number of books about wolves and I have read them all. Unless I am mistaken this is your place in the San Bernardino Mountains and it is a partial wolf sanctuary. You have a few thousand acres here and no hunting is allowed. Look Carmine, I may only have one tit and I may be scarred and fat, but I am not stupid. I wanted to know about the man who fed me for weeks, and could give me an orgasm with one glance.”
He just smiled at me and did not say much. “Breakfast is getting cold” and we sat and ate if you can call it that. His hands and mouth was all over me. He was still naked and I was playing with his cock. It was tired but I knew I could wake it up any time I wanted.
“Do you really like me dressed like this; like a whore?” I ask him.
He glanced down at me, my open legs, my bald pussy, cum dripping out of me, and he responds by getting another erection. We both laugh.
“Why me?” I ask him. “Look at me. I am old, fat and scarred, so why me?”
“Because what you just mentioned is only skin, you are inside of it. I fell in love with you when I first saw you, the real you. Remember, what others see is not you, it is only skin. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Well since you asked” I replied, “Yes it is damn hard to believe. But everything you have said and done, including your little kidnapping makes me know it is true. You did not have to do that you know. You could have just asked.”
He replied, “That would have been too easy, and you needed to know you had a choice and you had to make it. I also knew that there was something you were hiding, deep inside of you and I took a chance that it was what I thought. I had to let you kill the demon, if that was possible.”
I smiled and kissed him. After breakfast we went back to bed. My lover was old and he needed his sleep. I was old, but not as old as he was, and I sure as hell needed some sleep too. I just knew he would be with me for a very long time.
I have no idea what time it is or even what day it is. I know the wolves are howling again and it is dark. I don’t care what time or what day it is. I see my lover sleeping while holding onto me.
It is hard to live without touch. He is holding me like he loves me and I think he does.
I wake and decide he needs to wake up too. I have to feed my lover, he will need his strength.
He looks at me as I move down to his cock. I begin to lick and suck on it and he starts to move to pleasure me too; but I stop him.
“I am doing this for you. I am doing this not because I want to ready you to give me pleasure” I say between licks and sucks. “I am doing this so that you will know that is it you I want. I don’t want this time to lead to you giving me pleasure with you mouth, your wonderful mouth that has made my pussy purr with one orgasm after another. I don’t want you to take this marvelous tool and make my pussy cum over and over, or to make me cum by fucking my ass, your ass now, over and over. I want you to cum into my mouth because I only want you to feel this pleasure. You are my alpha male and I am your alpha female and I want you to cum so that I can drink it, pure from your cock.”
I began to move up and down his cock again and again and I see my alpha lay back and smile as he looks at me. He could have closed his eyes to heighten his pleasure but he has heightened it by looking at me. I felt it get bigger then the first blast came out. It was thick and creamy, a little salty, but I loved his taste. I swallowed like it was a delicious malted. I was rewarded with more and more of his delicious nectar. He finally stopped after four hard shots into me. I kept sucking until he started to go soft and when it was finally done I sucked the last of his cum out of his sleeping cock.