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Daughters Forced Into Sex Acts

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I was finally forced down the stairs into a gloomily lit basement – this creep probably jerked off down here in his little hidey-hole. He shoved me onto a double bed, with a cheap, thin bedspread. I instinctively rolled over onto my back, wanting to view the surroundings.

I don’t even want to go in to how I was here in the first place. Stupidity on my part, to leave my door open like that.

I was still fully clothed, but the way my kidnapper had been groping me as he forced me from the trunk of his car down into his basement left me no illusions that this probably would not end with just a kidnapping. My hands were secured behind me by some kind of weird plastic twist tie. I’d seen them used by cops in news programs on TV. I’d also seen them used by contractors who’d called them “cable ties”. Anyway, my wrists were closely bound together with these cable ties. I was effectively helpless.

He was huge, standing at the foot of the bed, well over 6’ tall, white, broad-shouldered, he looked to be in his mid-30’s. He probably had brown eyes, but they looked to me like black pools of evil – no hint of human kindness there.

I fixed his face in my mind, for the future…I could make it out only dimly in the weak light, but I would know him if I saw him again – his physical size would make him easy to pick out, even if he was nondescript otherwise.

“You ready to service a real man, you cock-teasing bitch,” my kidnapper said.

“If there was one here, I might,” I shot back.

“We’ll see about that, whore.” Getting on the bed, he straddled his knees on either side of my ribcage. He was even bigger up close then he was a few feet away. The breath was forced from my lungs as he knelt astride me.

He grabbed a handful of my hair, arching it backwards, down into the mattress. My chin was forced back, exposing my neck. With his right hand he grabbed around my neck, enveloping it with a huge hand as he brutally pulled my hair with his left. Although he didn’t look to have a bodybuilder’s physique, he was strong as an ox.

He slowly turned my head from one side to another, leering at me. I couldn’t help myself.

“Let me go, you bastard, let me go!”

“I may let you go, later, depending on whether you learn how to behave like a good girl,” he replied in a menacing tone.

With that, he released his grip in my hair, unzipped his fly and took out his semi-hard cock, along with his balls. It was big, probably bigger than average, but not obscene – probably about in proportion to his physical size. He scooted up along my torso a few inches, holding his thing right above my face.

“You ready to suck some cock, whore?”

“Not if it was the last one on Earth, asshole.”

He proceeded to rub it up and across my cheeks, over my mouth. I kept it firmly shut, tossing my head from side to side in an effort to keep his thing away from me. It was disgusting, having him rub his filthy tool all over my face.

“I’m running out of patience, you cunt. Are you going to open that hole of yours?”

I didn’t grace him with a reply. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

He slapped me across the face with one hand, while still keeping his now-hard cock poised above my mouth. It hurt, but he’d have to do more than that to break me down. He switched his prick to his other hand and slapped me on the face again, this time from the other side. While the physical sting of the slaps hurt, the shock of the slaps hurt even more. I was beginning to realize the hopelessness of my situation, my own complete vulnerability. Here I was, handcuffed and helpless in some strange man’s basement, kidnapped from my own home, manhandled and mistreated, probably about to be raped. Would I have to actively participate in it as well? It wasn’t enough that he could simply force my legs apart and rape me? I had to suck his cock as well?

It was one thing if he just forced himself inside me (good luck getting in, mother-fucker, I was as dry as a bone), but sucking his cock, as he was demanding, would be active participation on my part. I couldn’t bring myself to do that! It would take more than a few slaps in the face to make me to open my mouth.

“I’m not going to suck your cock, you fucking bastard!” I shouted quickly between face slaps, shutting my mouth again before he could stick his dick inside it.

Then he stopped slapping me, instead letting his now-hard dick rest against one of my cheeks as he looked down at me. I shuddered at the heat emanating from his prick as it lay on my cheek…large and stiff and menacing. Let him try to fuck me if he wanted. I wasn’t opening my mouth so that bastard could stick his filthy tool down my throat.

He reached into his back pocket and took out several of the cable ties that he’d used to cuff my hands behind my back. “You had your chance, bitch” was all he said as he shuffled his body back down my ribcage.

He took the first cable tie and wrapped it around my neck. I was screaming obscenities at him by the time I realized what he was doing, but he ignored me. He must not have been concerned about the noise I was making. Maybe he’d custom soundproofed the basement. I wouldn’t put it past an obvious sicko like him.

As he tightened the first cable tie around my throat I immediately realized my predicament. These things were set up so that one end looped through the eye of the other end. They tightened, but they didn’t loosen! He tightened one at the top of my neck, just below my chin. He tightened another one at the base of my neck, just above my shoulder. He put another one right in the middle, right below my Adam’s apple.

Now my breathing was restricted as I gazed up at my tormentor. I was still calling him every name in the book but I was also scared shitless. He reached down and quickly pulled all three cable ties tighter and I was cut off from the most precious substance on Earth – air.

He moved back up my frantically twisting body, keeping me pinned under his massive frame. I was unable to make loud sounds now. Again, he put his dick in front of my face.

“How about now, bitch? Have you changed your mind?” He was smirking in triumph.

Looking up at him, gasping for air…but unable to take any in, I began to panic. I could die here, I well knew. He’d beaten me for the moment.

I opened my mouth, letting him slide his cock right in – he didn’t waste any time shoving it deep. I frantically made some back and forth movements. I’d do anything, at this point, to get air back into my lungs. My body was beginning to burn from the lack of oxygen. My legs were thrashing, but my arms were still firmly secured behind me and my torso was held down by my attacker’s body.

But he showed no signs of accepting my change of heart. He just kept sliding his cock back and forth as I suffocated from the cable ties that were around my neck. I thought about rebelling again, biting his dick…but I was too scared for my own safety. Pissing him off even further wouldn’t help me.

I began to fall into blackness, everything getting far away. The action of his cock sliding in and out of my mouth faded into the background as well. What a way to die, tied and raped and suffocated…


…I woke up later, coming to my senses both slowly and quickly. I immediately noticed that I was naked, but that my hands were free. I felt more cable ties around my neck, snug, but not shutting off my air. I fingered them. They were a silent but obvious threat. I was still terrified from what, in my mind, had happened just a few seconds ago.

He was still in the room as well, seated in a chair next to the doorway leading up and out of the basement. I had no idea whether I’d been unconscious for a minute or for a few hours. I was completely disoriented and scared.

“How about now? Had a change of heart? Ready to suck cock?”

I looked at him, looked at the door and knew it was hopeless. I was just a woman, after all. I’d never get past him. I knew making a commotion was also out. He didn’t seem to mind that I had made noise earlier.

He smirked in amusement at my silence and unzipped his fly, not getting out of the chair. In silent defeat, I moved and kneeled in front of him, taking his cock inside my mouth, resigning myself to giving my would-be rapist a voluntary blowjob. My face burned hot in humiliation. My naked status in front of him, while he remained fully clothed, reinforced my beaten status.

There were no further words between us for the next 10 minutes while I sucked my kidnapper’s fuck-tool. As the minutes passed, I was both disgusted at myself, murderously angry at him, fearful for my life and, (very strangely) turned on at the situation. I had determined that obedience was the safest course as, blacking out, I thought my life was over. But as my head bobbed in a rhythmic motion up and down his dick, I couldn’t help but pay close attention to my body and his body. My nakedness, in the cool air of the basement, reinforced my sexual ministrations. My nipples had hardened, whether from the air or from the situation (or maybe from both). My hands and lips were clamped around his cock. He had a definite male odor, but he wasn’t grossly dirty or anything. It was actually slightly intoxicating. His tool, being kind of big, was something that had to be reckoned with. Large dicks, in my experience, had a power all of their own to mesmerize me. This one was no different.

I heard (and saw) him reach into the top drawer of the dresser that was positioned next to him. He did this nonchalantly, continuing to enjoy the blowjob I was giving him. He pulled out a small black rubber butt-plug with a long tail attached to it. It looked horrid and another spasm of humiliation and disgust flashed through my body.

By the hair, he lifted my face up and off his cock and shoved the plug into my mouth. Only my extreme fear and terror of the way he’d suffocated me before allowed me to keep still at this fresh indignity. First, because I didn’t know where the damn thing had been…it only had an awful rubber taste, but still! And second, because the very act of not protesting (because of my fear) made me feel even worse. It was like I was a whore or something…first sucking his cock and then sucking on this butt-plug with a bunch of fake hair attached to it. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to figure out where it would eventually go.

My suspicions were confirmed as he turned me around, still on my knees and roughly forced me to bend over, pushing the plug right into my ass without so much as a fare-thee-well. As butt-plugs went it was pretty small, no more than 1” wide and 3” or so long, but I could feel it.

He pulled slightly on my new “tail”, silently ordering me to get back up on my knees, kneeling again in front of him and his cock. As soon as I lifted my torso, he gripped my hair, turned me around and forcefully shoved my mouth back down on his cock. Now, ass-stuffed, with some cheap horse-hair hanging out of my ass, I was really beginning to forget my prior terror.

I put my hands on his thighs in an effort to lift my mouth off his cock, but he must have known what I intended and shoved me brutally back down onto him. I bared my teeth, considering whether I should bite him or not.

THWACK! …across my right cheek.

“Don’t even think about it, you fucking whore! You bite my cock and it’ll be the last thing you do on this planet.”

Dazed from the face slap and chastened from the threat, I resigned myself to more cock-sucking, naked, still on my knees, hands wrapped around the base of his cock and his balls, but now with a butt-plug in my ass and a tail hanging off the butt-plug, like a long-tailed dog or something…probably a pony in his twisted mind. This was the most objectified I’d ever felt, like an animal…nothing more.

But still, in the back of my mind, despite the horrific nature of the moment, I was startled to realize that I was getting a warm feeling in my stomach. I’d never been used so roughly by a man before. How could I be feeling like this? Maybe I was misreading my body.

My mouth continued to bob up and down, like an oil derrick, obedient to the rhythm my rapist had set. From past experience, I knew the inevitable results of a steady rhythm on a man’s cock…especially a rhythm set by a man.

He’d soon cum. It was only a matter of time. The question was where. Would he force me to taste his cum, even swallow it…like some slut? Would he spray it on my face or my body…like some whore? Would he do the ‘gentlemanly thing’ and simply shoot into a tissue or onto his basement floor? I doubted that!

I continued to suck, intimately aware of the plug in my ass, the feel of the horsehair tail caressing my calves, his hand in my hair, his dick in my mouth, the air on my hard nipples, his male smell and (the worst thing I was aware of)…a warm fluttery feeling in my stomach.

When he came, it was almost a relief. I instinctively drew my head back in disgust, not wanting to swallow his load, but he would have none of it. He kept me on his prick until he’d spent himself fully inside my mouth. I wasn’t strong enough to resist.

“Get on the bed, bitch. Get on all fours.”

I looked up at him questioningly, still struggling to hold down his cum down without retching. He gave me a lazy slap across my left cheek as he continued to relax after his orgasm.

“Do what I tell you. I want your legs spread and on your hands and knees…like a whore begging to be fucked.”

“Please. Won’t you just let me go? I won’t tell anyone? I promise.”

A harder slap this time, but no words. With a heavy sigh and an unpleasant aftertaste in my mouth, I got on the bed. The only way out of this was through the door and I knew I couldn’t get past him. I had to bide my time.

As I placed myself on the bed, on my hands and knees, legs apart, I did feel like a whore. He’d told me to basically put myself in a doggy-style position. I felt ridiculous and ashamed kneeling on this cheap bed in a dingy basement with his cum settling into my stomach and a ridiculous “tail” hanging out of my ass. If I’d felt objectified before, I felt doubly objectified now. I was even more distressed by the thought that I’d basically accepted his “orders”, willingly or not, still unable to contemplate disobeying him again and having these new cable ties around my neck tightened like the last ones were. He was a bastard to put new ones on me like this! As if I didn’t already know what they could do!

The only consolation I could take was that he’d just come and unless he was superhuman (and none of the men I’d ever met before were), he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of fucking me in this position…he couldn’t get it up so soon after cumming in my mouth.

He just sat there for a few more minutes, enjoying the view, resting in his post-orgasmic bliss. Motherfucking Bastard!

Soon enough, he reached back into the top drawer of the dresser, from which he’d pulled out my butt-plug horsetail earlier and pulled out a second butt-plug, again with a horsetail…this once noticeably bigger.

I tensed in dread, feeling my anal muscles pucker around the existing probe in my ass. As soon as I saw it, I knew where it was going. He made me suck this second one too, licking and mouthing the hard rubber of one plug while still speared by the other plug. I was right. It was bigger…probably 50% longer at 4 ½” or so and 50% wider at 1 ½”. After he was satisfied, he wasted no time in pulling out the first plug and shoving the second one home quickly. It hurt going in whereas the first one was just humiliating. I could feel my ass mold itself around the hard rubber. I could feel the tip of it probing deep into my anal cleft, one side pressing against my cunt. I could feel the horsetail hanging down across my lower rump, brushing my outer cunt, tickling my thighs.

I stayed on my hand and knees, “like a whore begging to be fucked” using his term, but couldn’t resist grunting in disapproval as he shoved the rubber tool home. My tormentor didn’t take kindly to my attitude and gave me several powerful slaps against my ass. He was strong. I quieted down.

“You’re just a cock-teasing bitch, like all the rest. How do you feel being put in your place, you fucking whore?”

His outburst didn’t merit a response from me, so I remained silent.

And he slapped me again, right on the ass, striking the plug as well, making it hurt even more.

“Don’t ignore me cunt. Answer my question!”

“Let me go. Please let me go!” I cried.

Unsatisfied, he spanked me again and kept spanking me.

“I feel like a dirty whore. I’m scared to fucking death, you bastard!” I yelled. “You’ve had your fun! Please let me go!”

He was in no mood for mercy, though. I heard a click and, looking around, saw him slide his belt out of his pants. I heard myself begin to whimper in fear and sympathetic pain. He doubled the leather belt over in his right hand, fisted his left hand into my hair, wrenching my head back brutally and taking complete control over my body, and began striking me on the ass with his belt.

It hurt! It hurt like hell! He was brutishly strong and seemed to be using all of it in landing the belt across my ass. It would be bad enough with just the belt, but it seemed like every second strike also hit the now-larger and now-painful plug that was screwed into my butt as well and that made it worse. I thrashed underneath him, trying to get away, but he held me down like I was no more than a small dog, easily able to control me with just his single hand while he continued to strap me with the horrid belt in his right hand.

At some point, I began crying from the pain. I felt like a little girl being spanked by Daddy for something awful. I began babbling as well, begging him to stop, telling him I’d do anything…just please stop. I tried to bury my head into the bed, but was unable to as he kept my neck firmly arched back with his grip in my hair.

I could only endure.

As time passed, however, I felt my body temperature rising from the beating. The constant thrum of the belt against my ass also served to transmit vibrations to my cunt. In a strange way, I was being stimulated by the ass-spanking even though it was so brutal. I’d experimented around in the past with one boyfriend with a light spanking…it had never really floated my boat. This was nothing like that. It was a hard strapping, painful, but also somehow sexually stimulating, whether from the butt-plug, from my rapist (I hoped not from him) or something else I couldn’t be sure.

Anyway, as he continued to spank me, forcing my head back, moving from my ass to my thighs with the belt, I descended into incoherent sobbing, begging, pleading…and arousal. He totally broke me down, punishing me and now arousing me at the same time. I was terribly confused and disoriented.

He also continued to talk a blue streak of obscenities at me, calling me every name in the book, awful names, like cunt, bitch, whore, cum-slut, cock-tease, pain-slut, and gold-digger with equally objectionable adjectives like filthy, worthless, and shameless. And even though I knew I wasn’t any of these things, his right hand on his belt, his left hand in my hair, the plug in my ass, the pain radiating through my body, the cum digesting in my stomach, my own budding sexual arousal and my own stupidity at being so easily kidnapped all combined to more and more make me feel like I was all of those things that he was calling me.

Eventually, through the haze of the spanking, I understood him to be telling me to repeat all of these awful names. He was telling me to call myself a shameless cock-tease and a worthless cunt. And he was strapping me ever harder until I actually did it. I could feel the intensity of the belt striking my ass and thighs actually increasing as I continued to cogitate on his mind-numbing request.

“I’m a worthless cunt,” finally, breaking down, sobbing.

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