Free + Fantasy Writing + Rape Forced Office Sex Stories And Rape
Xxx Hardcore Rape pic 4 Xxx Hardcore Rape pic 5 Xxx Hardcore Rape sample photo
New Tomahawk Band Video Rape The Day
Full Access to all Xxx Hardcore Rape sites and Stories And Rape pictures and videos! Check out our FREE tours and e-mail updates on some amazing Free + Fantasy Writing + Rape gallery. It's all exclusive and uncensored New Tomahawk Band Video Rape The Day. Here you will find never seen before Xxx Hardcore Rape stories, video clips and Forced Office Sex gallery thumbnails!
CLICK for exclusive Stories And Rape  videos!

Xxx Hardcore Rape story below

Stories And Rape Free + Fantasy Writing + Rape New Tomahawk Band Video Rape The Day Forced Office Sex

She hasn't come in a week. I know this because I keep track. Even when things are not good between us, I monitor. Unless I explicitly forbid it, she is allowed to pleasure herself. She tells me that she hasn't been in the mood, but I know that the reason she hasn't been in the mood is that she's angry. Or hurt. Or both. We have an agreement, an understanding: I could have approached her, commanded her to please me. But I haven't, because she trusts me to know what will break her. Her trust in me is precious. And tenuous. This submissive of mine has told me to stop diagnosing her and to listen to what she says she needs. Today, I'm listening, and although I'm not a praying man, today I pray I know what she needs.

I tell her to undress. "Lay on the bed, spread your legs, and wait to be fucked." She wasn't expecting this, and I can see the battle taking place behind her eyes. She's not sure if she trusts me. She's still angry, but wants so badly for me to fix things, to make it better. And I want so badly to fix it for her. Without any attempt at finesse, she removes her clothes. No wiggling free of her bra, no bending forward at the hips to pull her panties down. Normally she gives herself freely and strives to please me. Normally, she would undress the way I have taught her. Today, she is mechanical and functional. The first time I commanded her to undress for me, I required her to fold her clothes neatly and place them on the nightstand. I never had to ask again. Today, her clothes lay in a heap on the floor, and she lies flat on her back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her legs spread. I surreptitiously kick at her clothes, moving them out of my way.

And I wait. Two, maybe three minutes pass. I don't want anxiety to set in, but I want her to know that I'm making her wait for me. That she will be fucked when I'm ready to fuck her. Three minutes is as long as I can last. It's not that I have to fuck her now, but I'm impatient to make her feel better.

She is spread eagle on the bed, no restraints, no expression on her face. She doesn't appear to be aroused, but I expected this. I sit at the foot of the bed, her feet on either side of me, and I deliberately put on my boots. They are brand new, never worn outside the store. I have no plan for the boots, but I want her to feel my presence, my weight on the bed. I want her to be aware that I am fully clothed, down to my boots, while she is naked. I unleash my shirt from my jeans and slowly unbutton it, revealing the T shirt underneath. I methodically roll up the sleeves of the shirt, making sure they are perfectly symmetrical. Just stalling. Making her wait

I drop two objects on the bed: a clip and a metal plug. I take a deep breath, and without looking at her face, cup her mons with the palm of my right hand and place my thumb on her clit, rubbing it up and down. She doesn't react, except I sense that she is more tense than when I started. I know her. She wants more psychodrama. Some rough playacting. Something to arouse her, to push her beyond her embarrassment. Not this intentional clinical display.

I slide my finger between her labia and find her dry. The walls of her vagina are like rubber, so dry that if she were another woman, I would suspect she is about to develop a yeast infection. I am tempted to call it off, as I don't want to hurt her, but I will myself to persist. I tell myself she is dry only because she doesn't want to betray herself. I continue to stimulate her clit. I do not look at her face, and I know she thinks she has become an object in my eyes. This both excites and repulses her. When she has been abstinent for a period of time, she can come very quickly, with little stimulation. I can feel a tightening of her muscles in her pelvic floor, but still no moisture. She is physically aroused, but not mentally or emotionally so. "You don't want me to make you come, but you can't help it, can you . . . slut?"

We play with erotic humiliation. It's a minefield, but I have found that it arouses her more than any physical stimulation could. Engaging in it when she is so angry with me is a calculated risk. Normally, I'd call her "my" slut, but I sense she would be offended by it today. I dab my finger between her labia once more, finding her only as moist as a normal unaroused vagina, but a definite improvement over my last inspection. I chuckle, and shake my head, making a show of mocking her, implying that I know her body better than she does. Then I return my attention to stimulating her clit.

She is so lovely to me. I want to give her pleasure, to lick my fingers to moisten her genitals. I want to suck her labia between my lips and slide my face back and forth between her legs, swabbing her with all the moisture she needs. But I don't. She needs something more from me. She needs to feel her body betraying her. I want to embrace the struggle in her eyes. She wants release, but she is so angry that she doesn't want to share her darkness with me. She wants to trust me, but doesn't feel she can. And silly submissive, she still thinks I'm doing this for my pleasure. I'm not. I'm doing it because it's what she needs.

I order her on her hands and knees, and she woodenly complies. I take the metal clip and clip it to her clit where it dangles, where it can stimulate her with her every movement. I lubricate the small metal plug with my saliva and gently insert it in her anus. It is so firm and heavy that it doesn't need to be large for her to be aware of it inside her.

I inspect her labia again and find her moist enough to be considered aroused. Not as wet as I can get her but wet enough to embarrass her. I chuckle. "You're wet," I accuse her. "Such a pretty little whore. You know what whores do, don't you?" She doesn't react. "They suck cock on their knees." She doesn't respond, because I haven't given her an order. I sit on the bed again and then enunciate each syllable carefully: "Off the bed. Get down on your knees where you can suck my cock."

She raises herself from the bed and slowly makes her way around to stand between my legs. So far, I have only instructed her to do things that she can pretend don't affect her. But this is different. Kneeling in front of me requires a show of cooperation and exposes her submission, especially now, when she wants to resist. Her breath quickens as she wills herself on her knees, finding it both shameful and erotically humiliating. I know she must have a knot in her stomach, as she unbuckles my belt. I help her by lifting my buttocks and loosening my jeans. She pulls on them as if to remove them completely. "No. That's as far as they go. I don't need to be undressed to feel your mouth on my cock, now, do I?" I see the question in her eyes. "You're naked so I can watch you." My jeans are midway between my knees and my ankles. Still clothed, but allowing me to part my knees and allow easy access to my genitals.

She takes me in her mouth. I enjoy the sensation, of course, but I want her eager, willing, pliable. Not shamed. For the moment, I pretend to enjoy her shame. I'm actually uncomfortable with it, knowing this isn't what she wants. But I pretend to be oblivious to her discomfort.

"You were such an aroused little whore before you got on your knees. Tell you what. You have permission to come, but you have to make yourself come, and you can only touch that pussy when my cock is all the way down your throat." She says nothing, but I can see comprehension in her eyes. She takes me further into her throat, allowing her throat to relax to accommodate me. I can feel a bit of a strain, but she controls her gag response quite nicely. When she comes up for air, I bend at the waist to remove the clip from her clit. I check her labia and find a string of moisture dripping from her pussy to one inner thigh, and across to the other thigh. Nothing arouses her like being used for my pleasure. I rub my thumb across my finger tips, as though testing the moisture. "If you want to finger that wet pussy, you'll have to do better than that. I want to feel your lips around the base of my cock. Oh, and did I mention no retching? If you gag, you can't touch yourself again until you have regained control of yourself. Now spread those knees further apart. I want to see how wet you are."

She opens her knees wide, wider than my own, and eagerly takes my cock in her mouth. I know the tricks she has learned, tricks I have taught her: exhaling as she takes me in her throat, swallowing and sticking her tongue out to prevent gagging. "That's it, lick the bottom of my cock. Show me what a good cocksucker you are." She whimpers. It's barely audible, but I notice a change has come over her. She wants to please me, something she hasn't wanted in a week. She thinks that's what she needs, but I know better. What she needs is to feel alive and sexual with me again. She has been sleepwalking for a week. Her tongue stimulates the bottom of my cock, and I have a brief impulse to use my hands to guide her head to where I want it, but I resist. It's sluttier for her to take me voluntarily.

Her throat opens, and I can feel her lips on my cock, close to my body. "Good girl. You may touch your clit."

She frantically rubs at her clit, with three fingers, trying to provide as much stimulation as possible before releasing my cock so she can breathe. I have held her head in place on my cock before while she struggled, and found it made her more aroused. She struggles now, not because I am holding her in place, but so she can continue rubbing her clit. She manages to hold my cock in her throat for about thirty seconds before having to come up for air. She's still composed, no evidence of strain on her face. "Get those fingers out of your pussy," I say sharply. She complies. "You'll have to get that mouth back down on my cock if you want to touch that wet pussy again. My pleasure before yours, remember?"

She already has her mouth on my cock as she mumbles acknowledgment around my cock. This time, she easily takes my cock down her throat. She reaches between her legs and rubs at her clit. I reach down and roll her nipples in my fingers, and she moans. Distracted by her own arousal, she is no longer stimulating my cock. "Get that tongue busy!" I tell her sharply. She immediately complies, working the flat part of her tongue vertically along the bottom of my shaft. "Don't forget my balls." She's struggling now, as she needs to come up for air. "Lick my balls first," I tell her. She does. Her tongue darts out twice and barely jabs at my ball sack. "Good girl."

She lifts her head, gasping for air. Again, I tell her, "Get those hands off that pussy, and don't make me tell you again." She gasps and jerks her hands away. I relish the control I have over her. I can show my displeasure at her behavior with a look or a slight inflection, and she will react as if I have struck her with a crop. I am the dominant, but there are times when I am humbled by her obedience. Today, especially, when she has been so angry, so hurt. And she still responds to my voice as though by instinct.

I test her further. I snap my fingers and look at my crotch. She hasn't fully recovered from the lack of oxygen, but she immediately puts her lips around the head of my cock and licks it. It feels fantastic, better than her throat, actually, but I want her more submissive. "You can do better than that. Or are you trying to tell me you don't want to touch that pussy again today?" She exhales, then forces herself down, swallowing as she engulfs my cock with her throat. I can feel her throat pulsing as her diaphragm contracts, attempting to draw air into her lungs. I don't feel much, just slight suction and pressure against my cock.

Her hands are between her legs again, and her tongue is busy swirling against the underside of my shaft again at a frantic pace. "Slower. I want to be able to feel your tongue on my cock." It doesn't feel better to me, but it forces her to focus on pleasing me. She slowly spirals the flat part of her tongue in a clockwise motion against the bottom of my shaft. Her tongue slides out and again caresses my balls, further this time than before, and the idea that she can lick my balls with my cock in her throat is more arousing than the actual stimulation. "That's it. Show me what a good cocksucker you can be when you're horny. You just need the proper motivation, don't you, my little slut?" I allow myself to caress her head, smooth her hair. It's a gesture of ownership as much as affection, and she knows it. She is struggling for air now, but willing herself to remain on my cock.

I know how she feels, as I was a swimmer. The butterflies in the stomach are the hardest barrier to overcome, but she wills herself to accept the discomfort, to ride out the panic. I can see she is doing exactly that, just to continue stroking her clit. She breaks free of my cock, gasping for air, not self conscious at all. Like an athlete who has exerted himself, and not the desperate horny submissive she is, kneeling between my legs. Again, I am ironically humbled by her desire to please me. She doesn't even wait for a comment from me this time, a few desperate gasps for air, and she is immediately back on my cock, her fingers at her pussy. She is moaning a blunted subtle moan, evidence that there is no air entering or leaving her lungs. And her abdominal muscles contact repeatedly, perhaps an effort on her body's part to compensate for her diaphragm's inability to draw air in.

I can tell she is about to come, and she makes a Herculean effort to remain on my cock so she can continue stimulating herself. But she can't last. She breaks free, gasping, wheezing, a sort of inverse moaning. She is probably a bit lightheaded by now, and is struggling to decide what her body needs most, more oxygen or more clitoral stimulation. My princess chooses her clit. I chuckle so she can hear it.

She forces her mouth and throat on my cock once more, her hands fly to her pussy. And it occurs to me that I can take this a step further. I lightly kick her hands away from her pussy. Surprised, she raises her head, but I hold it in place, her nose in my pubic hair, my cock in her throat, her tongue on my balls. I simply hold her head firmly against me for a few seconds. After she regains composure and adjust to this change, I lift my right foot and press the leather upper of my boot against her smooth pussy lips.

"Hump it," I say, and, amazingly, without hesitation, she does. My boot is shiny where her pussy has glided across it. I help her along and rub in the opposite direction to create more friction. When she comes up for air, I move my foot away. I've never asked her to lick my shoes before, and I wonder what her reaction will be. "Lick it" I say. "You might as well make yourself useful while you're catching your breath." She doesn't comprehend immediately. "Your pussy got my boot wet. Lick your pussy juice off my boot," I say in a patient but no-nonsense tone of voice. "Now, please."

I love the struggle in her eyes. Pushing her to do something she has never done before is the most erotic and intimate act I can perform. I want it from no other person, but I feel at times I want it more than life itself from her. She is already kneeling between my knees, and she lowers her head to my boot, slowly, as if clinging to her dignity for as long as possible.

I have the feeling I always have when pushing her into new territory, that once we pass this point, there is no returning to our previous lives. I hold my own breath as her head lowers closer and closer to my boot. Her mouth opens, and, yes, her tongue darts out. Just one small flick of the tongue. And she recoils, as if disgusted. I already have my hand poised to correct her, and I brace her head with my palm. I lift her chin with my other hand and force her to look me in the eye. "Good girl. Once more, but longer this time. You are cleaning my boot, remember?" I'm gentle with her, but I want her to fearlessly acknowledge to me what she has done, and I have found no better way to do that than having her look me in the eye when she is most vulnerable, most embarrassed.

She swallows, takes a breath, and lowers her head again. This time, her tongue laps at my boot, one long swipe. "Again. Lick it. Clean it with your tongue." Once more, she laps at my boot. Her juice has long since dried, but I know she can still taste it. "Lick it until it's not salty anymore. Clean your pussy juice off my boot." She licks in earnest now, lapping at my boot, rubbing her tongue against the roof of her mouth, getting her tongue moist enough to lick again. She repeats it several times. "Beautiful. You're absolutely beautiful like this." Now back up here. Get my cock back in your mouth. Lick and suck the head."

She complies, and I roll her nipples between my thumbs and fingers until she is moaning again. "You know the rules. You can rub your pussy on my boot as long as my cock is in your throat. Just remember that you'll have to clean it afterwards." She is transformed. She eagerly takes my cock down her throat, denying herself air just for the opportunity to rub her pussy back and forth on my boot. She is leaving a film of her juices on my boot, and I press harder into her. I can feel her starting to come, I can hear her muffled grunting around my cock. But she won't be able to last without air throughout her orgasm, so she comes up, gasping for air before going back down on my cock, before rubbing herself on my boot. "Hold it," I say. "You forgot something." She stops. "Clean your juices off my boot." I enunciate "juices" and "boots" and raise my eyebrows, as if surprised she forgot. She looks at my boot, shiny with her juices. My disappointment seems to have motivated her. This time, there is no hesitation as she opens her mouth while easing herself down on her forearms.

She licks long slow licks, seeming to savor it. She purses her lips and slides them around the boot, smearing her juices and saliva across the top. She's so sexy and submissive like this, that I file an idea away for the next time we play, to have her clean my boots with her mouth before an evening out. She is now making small slurping noises, almost repeatedly kissing the boots, trying to collect as much moisture as she can from them, taking care not to drool or let her teeth touch them. When she is satisfied they are clean of her juices, she looks up, and I nod my permission. "Yes, you may suck my cock." She raises into a kneeling position, takes my cock down her throat and immediately begins grinding her pussy into my boot. She is close to coming even sooner this time, but still, there is not enough time for her to come without having to stop to breathe. She continues deepthroating me and lapping at my balls while she delays her orgasm until the next round.

When she has to draw a breath, she kneels down, panting and gasping, licking her juices off by boot. There is no hesitation, and the gasping and panting creates an erotic image that she is getting off on licking my boot. I regret that I do not have the video camera set up, as I'd like to show her how slutty she appears. She is making the kissing movements again, and now seems to be genuinely enjoying the task. She has had time to recover from oxygen deprivation, and yet is still eagerly sucking and licking at the leather, still breathing heavily, and now moaning. I let her enjoy her depravity for a few moments and then I question her. "Have you forgotten my cock?" She freezes momentarily, raises up, and takes me deep into her throat and grinds her pussy against my boot, and begins lapping at my balls again.

She might make it this time, but I think that she may have waited too long. She begins to grunt as before, ready to come, but again, cannot do so before having to breathe. Again, she kneels down, gasping, licking and sucking at the leather on my boots. It's different this time. She is not the embarrassed submissive tentatively darting her tongue out at my boot. She's not moaning at the sheer depravity of being so turned on she'll humiliate herself. She is simply trying to clean her pussy juice off my boots so she can come. She licks and sucks, draws the moisture from my boots into her mouth as quickly as possible, then raises up to continue grinding and deepthroating. She gets my cock in her throat with no difficulty, but before she can grind her pussy against my boot, I tell her, "You missed a spot." With a moan of sheer frustration, she pulls her mouth off my cock, surveys the boot, sees a bit of shine and foam, and quickly laps it up.
More Xxx Hardcore Rape HERE!