0 comments/ 12453 views/ 0 favorites Claimed By: MsVixen416 How I miss my Master! Here it is, Saturday night, and I'm sitting here writing a story, feeling the need to rehearse a memory or two. I am completely nude, as I was always in our home. I grew to love being nude before Him. Master wanted me always close to Him, never more than 3 feet away when we were together. He wanted me always available to his touch. It was so exhilarating. He loved me so tenderly, so wonderfully, so intensely. When we went out to dinner or a movie, I was expected to always be at His right hand, not across the table. Often, his fingers enjoyed an arousing dip in His vagina while we waited for our meal. I was never embarrassed when I was with Him. His love for me was obvious to all. Even now, my body aches for his touch. Even now ... I can close my eyes and feel his hands playfully and torturously twisting my nipples. He loved my nipples, and sometimes spent hours pulling and twisting them while reading or working. I knelt or sat by his side, and kept His breasts within easy reach. Oh Master ... I do miss You! How easy it is to remember the first time He touched me. For months we spoke online and on the phone. Daily conversations sometimes lasting hours were the norm rather than the exception. He taught me how to stand, how to sit, how to kneel, how to please him with facial expressions, with my eyes, and, of course, with my mouth long before we ever met. Plans were made. Reservations made. He had a room at an expensive hotel. He ordered me to come to Him, if I dared. I was to wear nothing but a skirt and blouse, nothing. He preferred the blouse to be white. He admitted He wanted to see my erect nipples through the blouse. He ordered also that my heels be at least three inches. No hose. I came. Trembling in my shoes, I arrived. I wasn't sure why I trembled. He met me in the lobby and graciously led me to the dining room. He offered me a single white rose. I accepted. I watched His eyes observe my hardened nipples, and felt my insides explode. I had to please Him. He spoke, his Australian accent added to His mystique. I was totally smitten. He had me in the palm of his hand, and we both knew it. I was His. He stood. Flashed His blue eyes at me, and I was compelled to follow. We went silently to the Penthouse. As soon as we had entered the room, He looked at me, or perhaps into me. "Come," he said simply as He welcomed me into His arms. How safe and protected I felt! Even that first time, it was so. He kissed me deeply, and I nearly collapsed on the spot. I did not understand my reaction, but He did. He stood patiently, His face smiling, and commanded me then to disrobe. I know He felt my struggle, and to His credit, his face never flinched. I slowly removed my white blouse and navy business skirt, laid them on a chair nearby, then stood before this relative stranger completely naked, trembling. He said nothing for a few minutes, but allowed me to adjust to my condition. Then He spoke. "You are completely and utterly beautiful, my slut. Come again, into Your Master's loving arms." And so I did. The first touch. His hands on my naked body. I felt my body cream immediately. Strange. I was aware, it seemed, of every inch of my skin. My skin tingled. My insides throbbed. He ordered me to lace my fingers behind my head and part my thighs. He examined me. Before He ever touched me, my nipples puckered and hardened for Him. His fingers, like electrically charged tools, examined my body, caressing my face, my ears, my neck, my arms, my armpits ... every inch of my body, every inch. His face was stoic. This examination process took a good hour as he weighed each breast, twisted each nipple individually watching it's reply ... all the way down over my tummy to each thigh to the tip of each toe. He took His time. We each understood. I was His. I was His property. A commodity that belonged now to Him. He studied me. He observed my responses to His touch, the way my body welcomed Him. When his examination was complete, he offered me an opportunity to use the bathroom, which I needed to do. He joined me. He watched as I urinated, and then He wiped my bottom and explained to me that it was His duty to take care of me. After wiping me, he slid a finger into my vagina to check its wetness. I was quite wet. He commanded me to undress Him. I did. He turned on the bath to an appropriate temperature and explained that I was to wash Him, then He would wash me. It was done. I was instructed to dry Him and wrap the towel around him, that I would drip dry and then position myself in a spread eagle on His bed. I obeyed. He gently laid down beside me on the bed and told me not to move, and He was going to make love to me, claiming me, body and soul as His. He was tender and affectionate, always, and as He pushed himself gently into me, He whispered into my ear, "I will always be Your Master." We became one. At the mention of His name, my body still responds. Within seconds I can still cum for Him with nothing but a thought. I can still feel His possession of me. Deep and strong. In many ways, He owns me still, and yet, I am strong and free and more than I ever thought because He saw it in me and drew it out. Thank You, Master! Claimed Authors Note: Dedicated to Darkness Ascending and His slave jesuil **** He entered the room, His strong form blocking the light from the hallway. The very sight of Him taking my breath away. My body trembling as fingertips find the edge of the silks. He leans on the doorway, His gaze sweeping over me. Chocolate gaze lowered as I stand as still as possible. He moves into the room, the door closing softly behind Him with a click. Candlelight flickering across my flesh, their very shadows tickling across my flesh. Slowly He walks around me, inspecting me. Those sapphire eyes piercing to my very soul. Remaining silent, wishing to only kneel before Him, I can't help but to swallow hard. I can feel the slightest of movements of my silks. With each rise and fall of my chest the silks further taunt my flesh. The light silks suddenly heavy, my knees tremble lightly, my very core stills at the sound of His voice. "Eyes closed" The command given softly, my body obeying before I can even understand what He had commanded. My sight gone I try to listen. My mind wondering where He is, what He is doing.... My heart racing over loading my senses as I try to listen to where He is. Then I feel Him. He is behind me. His chest pressed to my back, one hand resting atop my hip. His hand tracing up the curve, and then up the side of my arm. A shiver runs through me as I remain still. His hand finding my neck, rough fingers tenderly brushing the hair aside, His lips fluttering across my neck. A whisper of love shared. Again His lips flutter across my sensitive skin. My mind screaming out to Him. Begging pleading... just wanting to throw myself in His arms. His fingers trailing along the collar, then down my shoulder, finding the single knot He tugs it, releasing the knot yet holding the silks. A small gasp escapes me. Then suddenly the air is cold. He stepped back from me and the silks puddle to the floor at me feet. Trembling, aching, tears brimming I can do nothing but stand there. Even the air must tease me, its soft whisperings exciting my flesh more. I listen for Him. Any sign, any sound, anything to know. His silence is deafening, not even His footfalls reveal Him. Then His hand is tracing my jaw line tilting my lips towards Him. It takes everything not to offer to kiss Him, His thumb caressing over my bottom lip. His hand moving down to my chest, His fingers light across my flesh, a tear slips free. His finger finds the single tear, scooping it up, and then kissing it. I can hear a soft click as a leash is applied to my collar, His fist tightening in it pulling me to Him, His free hand grasping the back of my neck. He leans in, his kiss devouring my lips. Strong possessive, He claims my mouth, my heart and my soul, all in that single kiss. a whimper of a plea escapes. Desire, fire, my body of molten heat longing only to be fully claimed by Him. His grip tightens in my hair, I want to open my eyes and gaze into the endless blues of his, but reluctantly I refrain. His grip tightens as He guides me backwards. My back now pressed against the wall... He releases the leash and my hair, His hands traveling down my shoulders, across my arms. He captures both my wrists, crossing them above my head. The cold steel is felt then the click heard as he chains me to the wall. His hands begin exploring me. All that is His claiming every inch. His mouth trailing lightly over my nipples, exciting me further, His hands moving lower. "Open your eyes" He whispers as His fingers claim the heated treasure. Gasping as my eyes flutter open. The need in His eyes dark, possessive, demanding. His fingers delving deeper. Claiming, exploring all that is His. "They will remain open, you will see how I view you." My heart leaps, my blood boils, my heart calling out to Him. Words lost as I can only nod that I understand. His free hand gripping lightly at my neck, His right hand delving deeper, working my core. The fires lit as He presses me to the wall. His large form covering me as I fight to remain still my body wanting to press into Him, to beg to be taken. My throat tight in excitement, tears of love, of fire, of desire, of longing burning bright in my chocolates. Peering nervously into His deep sapphires I am almost lost. I can feel His desire pressed against my thigh, restricted by His pants. His eyes demanding, hungry, longing... hot. Hot to claim me, to be deep inside me. His hunger His love, ravaging Him as much as He ravages me. "Please Master" I cry out, my body needing His so desperately. His fingers slip free of my core, He steps back, scanning me, hips arched towards Him as the cold air replaces where He had been. "Please Master" I whimper, as another tear trails down my cheek. He brings His fingers to His lips and licks His fingertips lightly, His sapphires never leaving my eyes. Slowly His hands find His trousers, releasing His surging manhood from the tight confines of the material. He tugs them off and tosses them to the side. All I want to do is to run my tongue down His chest and kneel before Him. Licking my lips at the thought of tasting Him upon my lips. My hands pulling restlessly at the confines of the shackles. A small groan escaping me as He reads the desire in my eyes. His soft chuckle breaks the silence, making me long for Him even more. "Not this night little one, not this night." He closes the space between us quickly, His hand rough on my throat, His gaze never faltering. The roughness suddenly gone as His hand slips behind my neck, His mouth claiming mine again. His tongue delving deeper, our tongues entwined in a hunger dance. His knee pushes my thighs apart, slipping between them. His hardness pressed at my core, a soft groan escaping. My back arches out offering all of me to Him, silently pleading with Him. He breaks the kiss; His hungry kisses find my breast. Kissing around the nipples then nipping one lightly taking it in His mouth, then with a sudden thrust, He is completely in me. My back arches more as I cry out in pleasure, His intensity claiming me, His power, His strength... He owns me fully. And tonight He is reminding me. His strokes are long and deep, taking me to my very core. Small ripples of pleasure course through my body as my hands wring in the shackles. Tears of acceptances, of love, of being hopeless His fall. His strokes drive deeper and faster, His breath on my neck as he takes me, His hands on my hips driving me deeper, impaling me with His own desire. He growls softly in my ear. "Now en'safora... cum for me now!" my body yields completely to Him. My head thrown back in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure claim my body. My heart racing, breath ragged, He works faster, harder, deeper, intent on claiming all of me. Tears unhindered slide down my cheeks, I can feel Him tighten then release in me sending my body through another wave. His pace slows; my body weak as He reaches up ad releases my hands. He slides from inside me and scoops me up in His arms. "Tonight, en'safora, you shall sleep in My bed" Claimed Vanessa Roland stood in front of the kitchen window, the dishes still only half done in the sink, and decided that a good cry was in order. The tears were spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them, anyway. They wouldn't have cared whether or not she thought they were in order. Outside the window, she could see mountains in the distance, and half a dozen big black cows chewing on alfalfa much closer. In her own backyard. How had she gotten here? It wasn't fair. She missed the city. She missed her friends. She missed movies and shopping and good restaurants. She missed clean nails and hair that wasn't pulled up in a utilitarian ponytail. She didn't want to be a farmer's wife. Especially when the farmer wasn't really a farmer. Carl had a business to run. The ranch was his childhood dream, and he was content to come home to it on weekends and spend his weeks in the city. Vanessa hadn't decided how to confront the fact that she knew that the apartment he rented was for more than sleeping and showering. She allowed herself a gulping, hiccupping sob as she remembered the voice that had answered his phone earlier in the week. The very young feminine voice. And now she was stuck here, in this god awful place, far from everything and everyone that she loved. And she didn't even have a faithful husband. It just wasn't fair. "Mrs. Roland? Are you here?" Vanessa was torn from her self-indulgent cry. She turned off the water, wiped her hands on the floral apron she'd found in the back of one of the kitchen drawers when they moved in, and walked to the door. Her face was red and blotchy. She knew that without looking in a mirror, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. The man standing on her front porch looked like he'd walked out of someone's cowboy fantasy. Tall, leanly muscular, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt, boots and a cowboy hat. The brim threw his face into shadow. "Can I help you?" He took his hat off with one hand and held it near his hip. "I'm Jackson Anderson. Your husband asked me to come by and check on you, make sure you didn't need anything while he was gone." "He did?" Had Carl seen this man? His face was amazing. Strong bones, startlingly light eyes, skin that had been weathered by the sun. His hair was dark, and matching stubble colored his cheeks. She wanted to run her hands over his face. She fisted them in her apron instead. "My farm is down the road. Your husband hired me to take care of his cattle during the week." Vanessa raised her eyebrows, anger bubbling up again. "Cattle? Including his wife, huh?" "Excuse me?" "That's what I am to him. A fucking cow that he owns and keeps tucked away during the week, to play with on his days off." "Mrs. Roland, I—" "My name is Vanessa." "Vanessa. You need to take a breath, honey. You look like you're about to pass out." She felt it. She leaned against the door jam and tried to do as he said. He took her by the arm and ushered her into her living room. "I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry. I've met your husband." A slow blush spread over Vanessa's face. "He's not that bad...he just—" "He's not that good." What had Carl said the last time she caught him cheating on her? "It doesn't mean anything. He just needs things that I can't give him." "Can't?" "It doesn't usually bother me so much. When we lived in the city, I had things to distract me. Now all I have is the damn cows." She laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. Jackson led her to the couch, and she sat, looking up at him. He had a really good mouth. Amazing mouth. A complete foil for the hardness of the rest of his face. "I can't imagine what he's getting somewhere else that he couldn't have right here." Vanessa didn't know how to explain it. Or why she would even consider trying to explain the sexual component of her marriage to a stranger. "He loves me." Jackson sat next to her. Close to her, so that she could feel the summer sun that had stored its energy in him while he stood outside. She thought he was going to argue with her. Instead he reached one big hand out and smoothed it over her hair. His fingers caught in the clasp holding it back into a ponytail, and he tugged at it. Her hair fell over her shoulders and halfway down her back in a mess of neglected honey blonde curls. Jackson dug his fingers into it, his hands cupping the back of her head, and lowered his face until his perfect mouth covered hers. His kiss was hot, demanding. He held her head, and tilted her face up to him. Her lips parted for his tongue. He moved one hand down to her waist and tugged her into his lap. "Wait a minute." She leaned back, but settled her legs around him instead of getting off his lap. "I can't do this." He reached for her again, this time his thick fingers moved with surprising grace over her dress buttons. She tried to breathe as he undid them to her waist. His fingertips brushed against her bare skin and took her breath away. Work-roughened hands slip over her shoulders, under her dress, and eased the soft, light cotton down until from the waist up all she wore was a white cotton bra. He bent his head and kissed her neck, sending a rush of heat to her core. She felt good for the first time in so long that it was impossible to try very hard to stop Jackson. He slipped his thumbs under her bra straps and tugged on them until they hung loose over her shoulders. His kiss moved from her neck down one shoulder as his fingers flicked open the clasp between her breasts. Her full breasts spilled out of their confinement, and a low, deep growl rumbled through Jackson. She had the most perfect breasts he'd ever seen. Carl Roland was the biggest fool he'd ever heard of. If this woman were his, he would never let another man near her, much less hire one to make sure she was happy while he worked in the city and screwed little girls who were less than half the woman his wife was. Her body was like a luscious gift. Her waist was narrow under his hands as he bent forward and sucked one of her berry-sized nipples into his mouth. Her hips were full and round in his lap, and they tilted forward as she reacted to his pull on her nipple. "Please—" Vanessa wasn't sure what she was asking for. More, or for him to stop. His fingers plucked the nipple he wasn't sucking, and she slid her hips forward until she felt his cock through his jeans against her pussy. The bulge was startlingly large and hard. "Please." He pulled harder on her nipple, his teeth biting into the tender flesh, and the spark of pain was like a livewire to her clit. She felt her panties dampening as her body responded violently to him. She put her hands to the back of his head, letting her fingers tangle in his black hair. His moved his hands behind her waist and pulled the tie on her apron, then lifted the hem of her dress and she raised her arms over her head so he could take it off of her. She started to work on his shirt buttons, wanting to see the heavily muscled chest she could feel under it. He helped her, shrugging out of his shirt once the buttons were undone. She grabbed the hem of his white t-shirt and tugged impatiently at it. He laughed, a slow rumbling that moved his cock against her, and took his shirt off. His chest was broad and strong, a patch of dark hair swirled over it, narrowing to a peak that disappeared into his jeans. She wanted to see all of him, her fingers slipped down between them and caressed the huge shape of his cock through far too much clothing. He was large, more than large. He stood her up off of his lap and stood himself. When he was naked in front of her, his cock was more amazing that she'd thought it would be. It stood between them as hard as iron, too thick for her fingers to reach around. Kneeling down was a reflex that she could no more stop than she could stop her heart beating. He put his hands back in her hair and led her forward until the smooth, fat head of his cock was against her lips. She swirled her tongue around it, tasting the salt of his precum. He pressed against the back of her head and the tip of his cock pushed into her mouth, stretching her lips and sliding along her tongue until it hit the back of her throat and she gagged slightly. She had barely half of his cock in her mouth. She tried to move her head back, to fuck his cock with her mouth, but he held her still. Instead of moving back, he pushed forward. Her green eyes looked up at him with alarm, but he was relentless. He had to feel those lips around the base of his cock. He knew she could take it, and was determined to show her how far she could go. She gagged a little and he stopped, waited for her to start breathing through her nose, and for her fingers to tighten on his hips, for her to push a little forward on her own before he pressed deeper. Her tongue danced against the underside of his cock, sending sparks to his head. Her eyes never left his as he pushed her down on his cock, taking her mouth until he owned it. A rush of primal need pounded against him when he finally felt her mouth around the very base of his cock, her nose pressed into his groin. She was his. His. He finally dragged her back, his fingers tangled in her hair. When only the head of his cock was in her mouth, he started pushing her down again. Using her mouth like a cunt, enjoying the wet heat of it. She tried to push her mouth faster down, and he felt a thrill at her small show of greed. He pushed his cock several more times into her throat, felt her nose pressed to his flesh, and then finally let his cock head pop from her lips. He pulled her from her knees and held her against him. She was shaking as she buried her face against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist. "You're such a good girl, Vanessa. So good." He petted the back of her head, his other hand slid down the small of her back to her perfect ass. "You're my good girl." His words made her insides feel tight and hot. Like she'd been waiting her whole life to be this man's good girl. Her throat was raw and sore, but nothing could take away the pride she felt. She'd taken his cock, all of it. Carl was half his size and she'd never been able to take his cock the way she just took Jackson's. Oh god. She was a whore. A common slut. She felt like she was being torn apart from the inside out. He held her away from him, looked down into her face. "What is it?" She didn't mean to tell him, but somehow was compelled to anyway. "Only a whore would do what I just did." "I won't have you talking about yourself that way, Vanessa." She shook her head, her body shaking against him. "It's true." She was slipping away from him, and he had to do something to snap her out of it. Instinctively, he knew that a physical release of her anxiety would help. That pain would refocus her attention and break the cycle of destructive thoughts. He turned her so that her back was to him and walked her to the wall next to the front door. His hands slid down her arms and took her hands, lifted them and pressed them against the wall, held them there for a minute while he bent to kiss the back of her neck. "You are not a whore, Vanessa. You're a beautiful, sensual woman who deserves to have her needs met." She shook her head slowly. "I'm not." He brought his hand down with a shocking smack against her ass. She yelped, but didn't move. She couldn't have if she wanted to, he had her wrists in one hand and one of his feet hook around hers, keeping her legs spread wide. His big hand stung her sensitive skin, pushing the breath out of her. "You area good girl. I won't have you thinking otherwise." His hand came up and down again quickly, sending a sharp pain through her. Her pussy reacted so strongly that for a minute Vanessa thought she might faint. She arched her back, lifting her ass higher. Jackson watched her react. Saw the sensual woman push past the fear and self-recrimination. She was the most basically, naturally sexual woman he had ever known. Her ass was perfect, round and firm, and now had a pretty pink tint. He brought his hand down on it again, and heard her moan. He lifted an eyebrow and did it again, and then reached his fingers between her legs, sliding them along her slit and finding the edge of her hole. She was so wet. Drenched, dripping, her hole was so tight, and needy. She pushed her hips forward, trying to make him push his finger into her. He obliged her, sliding one finger deep. She pushed her forehead against the wall and cried out. He moved behind her, no longer able to deny himself the feel of that tiny, tight hole around his cock. She opened her legs obediently when he pushed against them, and whimpered when he slid a second finger into her cunt. Finally he pulled them out and put both hands on her hips, his cock found her slick, hot hole like a lost horse finds home. She cried out, arching and pushing back as he entered her. She stretched around him like a virgin, and he knew that she'd be neglected in more ways than one. He pushed his hips forward, taking her slowly and relentlessly. Vanessa felt herself fragmenting, dissolving into a million pieces as Jackson took her. How had she lived so long without this? He held her around the waist and pulled her on to him, manipulating her for his pleasure. His long, thick shaft reached parts of her that had never been touched. She was cumming before she was ready, going off like the fourth of July when she hadn't nearly had enough. His cock was thick enough to rub against her clit with every deep, slow thrust, and she couldn't stop the result. Her cunt closed around him, tightening almost painfully, and he held her while she came. Her head rested back against his shoulder and he moved one hand up to brush her hair back from her cheeks. He pulled out slowly, even though his cock complained bitterly at the idea of leaving its tight spot. He wanted her in a bed, on her back, her legs over his shoulders. She took his hand, as if reading his mind, and led him down a hallway. Her bedroom was simple. A large bed and a dresser, nothing else. The bed had a white comforter on it and several feather pillows, and a white curtain billowed in from the open window. She lay on back on the bed, and Jackson felt a gut-deep reaction to taking this woman in her bastard husband's bed. He kneeled over her and took her face in his hands. "I want you to remember this, Vanessa. Every time he takes you here, I want you to think about me." She opened her thighs for him. Lifted her hips in invitation. He pushed her legs up, over his shoulders, so that she was completely open and exposed to him. Her pussy was beautiful. Its perfect smoothness was a testament to the sexual woman that had been smoldering beneath her surface. He could imagine her sitting on the edge of her tub, her fingers teasing and exploring while she slathered her husband's shaving cream over her beautiful cunt and drew his razor across it. He put his hands under her hips and lifted, needing to taste her sweet honey. She would taste sweet, he knew even before his tongue wrapped around her swollen clit. He moved one hand, his finger circling the rim of her asshole as he fucked her with his tongue. She tightened her hips when he pushed the tip of his finger into her ass, a groan that was half pleasure and half alarm filled the room. He lifted his head and shushed her, his finger not stopping its exploration. When she relaxed, he went back to her cunt. Vanessa felt suspended in some kind of other world. All she felt was his hands on her, his mouth on her, and his finger doing something that she'd never let her husband do. It dipped more deeply into her asshole and she moaned loudly. He wrapped his mouth around her clit and sucked lightly until she felt her whole body giving over to him. Finally he pulled away and his body was between her legs, the movement brought her legs up high and he moved his hands up to her ankles, spreading her wide. He looked down at her cunt, watched himself sliding into her. He was so big, so thick, she could hardly breathe as he pushed into her. He was going to fuck her hard. She knew it like she knew her own name. She reached behind her and grasped the bars of her headboard, lifting her hips in invitation of the inevitable. Jackson rested her legs against his shoulders and took her wrists in one hand, forcing her to keep her hold on the headboard. The other went to her throat, not hurting her, but holding her so that she was forced to look at him, to watch his face while he fucked her. "You are mine, Vanessa. Every time he fucks you, I want you to remember that you are mine." She nodded silently, her eyes wide and brilliantly green. He pushed deep, his cock bottoming out and bringing a cry from her lips. He pulled out and pushed in deep again, needing to hear that little cry over and over. "Say my name. I want to hear you say my name while I fuck you." "Jackson." The word came out like a prayer. "Jackson." His cock slipped in and out, his hips pushing against her, her legs wrapped around his shoulders. His. Every thrust claimed her. His. He tightened his grip around her neck slightly when she tried to turn her head, to look away. "No. Look at me, Vanessa. Look at how good you make me feel." He pulled his cock out of her cunt, and her desperate, desolate moan washed over him. He moved his hand from her throat, sliding it between her ass and the mattress and tilting her hips up so that he had access to her tightest hole. All of her would be his. She knew what he wanted, and was both terrified and exquisitely excited. She wanted him to know that she could please him, could give him everything he wanted. She wasn't the tight little prude her husband thought she was. She was a fully sexual being, and if he wanted her ass, she could take it. But he was so big, so hard. She had to work to relax when she felt his fingers rubbing her juices into her puckered little hole. They eased inside, loosening her, and then she felt the thick, smooth head of his cock at the entrance. His fingers went into her cunt, curled against her g-spot as he pushed against her puckered hole hard, then harder. She screamed when his head opened her, he felt a shudder up his spine when he was finally in her ass. He took her slowly, slowly, savoring every second. Her cunt was dripping wet, her clit a swollen little treasure. He circled it with his thumb, his fingers rubbing against her sponge-y g-spot. He wanted her to squirt for him, coating him with her juices as he fucked her tiny little ass. He wanted to make sure that she could not separate pleasure from him. That every time she touched herself, or her husband touched her, his face, his hands, his cock were in her mind. She lifted her hips slightly, her knees were nearly to her shoulders, her hair spread around her in reddish-gold curls. She was like an angel, a beautiful perfect angel. His beautiful perfect angel. "I want you to say my name when you come. Scream it." She turned her face so that her cheek was against the mattress and he pushed into her harder, getting her attention. "Look at me, Vanessa." She turned back to him. His cock was buried deep in her. His balls were tight against her, and they throbbed, full and heavy. He flicked his fingers over her g-spot, felt it swelling, and rubbed it faster, a little harder. She bucked, her eyes wide but not turning from him. His name tore from her lips as juices squirted out of her and her hips bucked up. Her body tightened around him, his cock squeezed by her anal muscles. He didn't cum. Not yet. But it was a close thing. His balls ached, he could feel his seed hot in his shaft. He pulled out slowly, torturing himself, until he popped out of her asshole with an audible sound. She lay on the bed, limp and used, exhausted. But he still needed her. He needed her to find a reserve of strength, just for him. He needed to take more than she'd ever given before. Claimed He left her there, and she cried out, reaching for him. "I'll be right back. Don't move." The bathroom was just off the bedroom. He turned on the water and waited for it to warm up. He looked at himself in the mirror, looking to see if being with her had changed him. He saw his own face staring back, the same, but different. She was his. Every inch of him knew it without a doubt. He cleaned his cock carefully, giving himself time to recover from the experience of taking her ass. When he came back to the bedroom, she was asleep. Her arms were still stretched over her head, her fingers twined in the bars of her headboard. He opened a dresser drawer, then another, until he found what he was looking for. A silk scarf. He wrapped the soft fabric around her wrists and the bars, and she stirred. She tried to move, but he held her tight where he wanted her until he had her wrists tied tight to the bed. "Every time he fucks you, I want my name in your head. I want you to wish it was my cock. I want you to need me even more every time he touches you." He knelt between her thighs again, and she lifted her legs around his waist. "Say it." "I'll think of you every time he fucks me." "You'll scream my name in your head." "Yes." "I'm going to cum inside of you." Her eyes widened. "I'm not on the pill." "Good." He slid into her wet, sweet cunt. She pushed her hips forward, welcoming him. He took her hard, even though he knew it hurt her to take the whole of his length. She didn't complain, and whimpered in protest when he did try to use shallower thrusts. He rubbed his thumb over her clit while he fucked her, rubbing the hard little nub until she was moaning and begging like a whore. "Not yet. Don't cum yet, baby." She gritted her teeth, and raised her hips to meet his thrusts. He watched her struggle to obey. He had never wanted anyone like this before, had never needed a woman the way he needed her. Her breath came in pants, and he knew she was teetering on the edge. "Please...Jackson, please let me cum." "Not yet." He pushed deep, fucked her, driving her higher. Finally he couldn't wait any longer. "Now. Cum with me. Cum now, Vanessa." Her hips bucked and he arched his back, finally letting himself spill into her. Her cunt tightened and spasmed around him, milking him of his seed and demanding more. "Mine." He rubbed a hand over her belly as he collapsed next to her. "Mine." Her husband wouldn't be home for three days. Three days of planting his seed deep inside of her, over and over again, might be enough to ensure that she was his. Jackson had the feeling that it wasn't going to be enough to make sure he was in her mind when Carl fucked her. The man didn't deserve her, and Jackson couldn't stomach the idea of his hands on her. She curled against him, her body a soft, warm weight. His. Claimed He tried not to let it bother him. He already told her it didn't, a few times in fact. She was bent on testing him though. Just the idea of it made him curl his lip in irritancy. But now, here, tonight, watching her speak with every man who walked up was bothersome. He shifted in his seat again, the discomfort starting to annoy him but he wouldn't move. He contemplated another cigarette, and then another drink, something, anything to occupy him until she finally became bored of her little game. He decided on the drink and nodded his head towards the waitress who caught his eye. She started to smile at him, acknowledging his reorder but stopped a few feet and swiftly turned to make her way back to the bar, suddenly wanting to avoid him. The look in his eye unnerved her and she glanced towards the woman he watched, almost feeling sorry for her. His fingers started to tap impatiently on his thigh but stopped as he saw the hand of the man with whom she spoke rest on her bare thigh. She pushed it away, though, and shook her head at him, smiling that smile that would charm him into giving up and walking away without feeling like a fool. He let out a slow breath, glaring at the unsuspecting fellow as he walked past, and then returned to watch her again. What he saw infuriated him. She sat there with a smug look on her face, one dark eyebrow slightly raised, and her arms crossed, as if guarding herself from the reaction she knew she'd evoke in him. He seethed, he sneered, and he let out an audible grunt of annoyance, one loud enough to make the closest person to him turn and stare. He was about ready to walk out but the waitress suddenly appeared and dropped off the drink. He grabbed for it before she could even place it down in front of him and internalized the burn of the alcohol rushing down his throat. Again, he exhaled coming to the decision that when he finished, he would leave, without her. He'd had enough. He shook his head, watching a third man approach her. Unlike with the previous two, he paid close attention. This man was her "type" although she insisted she didn't have one. He was good-looking but not too much to be vain, tall without being towering, muscular yet not bulky. He could see her body language change in the instant she greeted him. Her arms uncrossed, she boldly held his gaze as they spoke, and her finger traced a small circle over her exposed knee. A shift in her chair and her back was arching, forcing the man to notice her ample breasts, which weren't that hard to miss anyway. He carefully sipped at his drink, the jealousy mounting inside him. Yes, he was ready to admit it, he was jealous and feeling possessive of her, in fact, feeling possessed himself by something he'd not felt in years and never this strongly. Everything she was doing was inflaming him and he needed to get them out of there, now. When she reached forward and gripped the man's arm, laughing loud enough to allow him to hear her across the noisy bar, he slammed down the rest of his drink and rose quickly to his feet. He strode in heavy even steps directly to her and upon seeing him, she pulled her hand away and pressed it down to the table. Her eyes narrowed a bit but she continued to speak to the man. Finally arriving at the table he stood behind him, giving her the opportunity to dismiss him like he did the others. She sighed gently and thanked him for coming over but that she had to leave. With a look of confusion at being so abruptly cut off, the man turned and walked away, leaving her to face him. "Well?" She asked softly, leaning back in her chair to fully survey him. She was unable to anticipate what he would say to her, hoping that what she sought out to prove wouldn't, somehow, just end things between them. He reached forward and pressed back a curl of hair that had fallen forward across her cheek, and then let his fingers slide against her soft skin to brush over chin. He reached for her hand and pulled her from her seat, leading her quickly from the bar towards his car. From the tight grip on her hand, she started to believe that he was angry with her, that he was about to tell her she was wrong, it was over, that what she had done proved nothing except that she was a flirt, a tease and deliberately did all she could to show to him that easily, there would be someone else there to take her and that she would go. "Darling, please..." She started to plead with him but, having reached the car, he pulled her around and pressed her back against the side of it, his hand wrapping into her thick dark hair to tug her head back and kiss her. She couldn't even relax against him; the tight pressure of his body against hers kept her tense and nervous for his answer. Her tongue slid over his, tasting the liquor still coating it and his delved deeper, forcing a moan from her. His hand pushed up her skirt and started to tug roughly at her panties, making her wince as she felt and heard them rip. He dropped his hands down to grip her thighs and hike them around his waist, then reached between them to undo his jeans and release his stiff cock. She felt it nudge between her spread thighs and would have let out a loud cry had his hand not planted firmly over her mouth the moment he thrust into her. Her eyes widened as he filled her up, her tight muscles wrapping around his shaft and squeezing, forcing him to groan as he always did that first moment he entered her. He eased back and drove in again, his hand squeezing over her mouth to mute her cries. A brief flash of panic overtook her, remembering where they were but she could neither see nor hear anyone close by and she let herself succumb to him. Her legs clamped tighter around him, pulling him in each time he pumped into her silky wet canal. His hand moved to clamp to her bare cheek, squeezing and pulling her to him and soon, they were both growling in their need for release. She pushed his hand off her mouth, needing him to kiss her and he did, their bodies frantically working together to reach their orgasms. She came first, screaming into his mouth, the tension of performing all night as she did finally leaving her, pounded out of her in fact. His thrusts became harder, seemingly deeper as he felt her cunt spasm and drench his cock, and it overwhelmed it. He drove in deeply, ground his cock into her and came, the pressure of his body crushing her, making her writhe and sob out, not caring anymore if anyone saw or heard them. She clung to him as they calmed down, both of them panting and trying to regain some sense of...anything. She couldn't look at him now; she didn't want to know his answer, for suddenly, for some reason, she doubted the statement she made earlier that he was finally believing this to be more of a fling, that what they had was more, that she had broken through that wall he had put up and that she would prove it to him by making him jealous. He had merely shaken his head at her and told her he wasn't the jealous type. Slowly, he let her down, helping her slide her skirt back down before he quickly zipped up and grasped her hand to pull her to him again. He cupped her face and pressed a soft gentle kiss to her lips before leaning back to look down into her eyes, shimmering with wetness. He shook his head at her, and her heart dropped. She took a step to the side and started to release his fingers that had wound with hers. He tightened them and pulled her back, and finally spoke. "Are you ok, baby? I mean, did I hurt you?" His fingers traced against her face and he gazed at her, the concern obvious. She felt where his hands had dug into her flesh, where the unyielding car pressed along her back and knew at least faint bruises would appear. But she didn't care. In that instant, hearing the tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, and the caress of his fingers, she had her answer. She smiled to him, with no trace of arrogance, and squeezed his hand, letting him know that yes, she was just fine. Claimed Wanda tried to hide the shaking in her hands as she served her family breakfast. Today was going to be her big day and for once she couldn't wait until she shoo'd all of her family out the door and she got the place to herself. The other reason she shook was that she could smell her aroused scent, and was sure that her family could smell it too. The alarm had woken her from a very pleasant dream, one in which she was collared, naked and tied over a chair, awaiting her Master. Instead the alarm awoke her to another normal day in suburbia, well not quite so normal she thought with a smile. She could feel her lower lips already engorged from her dreaming, and the reality of the date sent an electric shiver through her. As Derek claimed the bathroom first, calling for the kids to get a move on, she lay there, grabbing a couple of "me" moments. She let her hand drift down under the sheets, and gently stroked her full lips, enjoying the feel of her fingers teasing pulsating pussy. As she gently teased herself, she thought back to how this had all began, how today was going to be such a special day for her. It had all really started shortly after she and Derek married, although Derek was a considerate and skilled lover, there was something missing, at least Wanda thought so, and after many years and two daughters, she found that she craved, no needed to be dominated in the bedroom, but unfortunately, Derek didn't think the same way. For him it was lovemaking, not sex. She still remembers the look on his face as she tried to explain about her wants, needs, and his look of revulsion, and his harsh words that only whores and prostitutes enjoyed that sort of thing. So that was that, or so she'd thought at the time. With that rejection Wanda realised that Derek would never dominate her, so she learnt to dominate herself. Over the years, she made up little rules, set herself tasks and fantasized that these were being set by her Master. She'd kept her pussy as smooth as the day she was born, she always wore seamed stockings, and the seams were always straight, she was never without heels on, and so on, all little reminders to heself about her self imposed submission. Derek often complimented her on how good she always looked, on how she'd kept her youthful figure, little realising that she was doing this more for her fantasy Master than for him. If she kept all of her rules, then she'd reward herself with a good orgasm, a long luxurious orgasm as she took time out of her schedule, she'd kneel on their bed, ass high in the air, and slowly fuck her by now aching pussy with her rabbit vibe, all the while imgining that it was her Master, taking her from behind. If she had been bad, if she forgot or failed to follow the rules, she'd either deny herself any release, or much harder, she'd try to ruin her orgasm. Ruining her release was a challenge for her, it took a great deal of willpower to slowly bring herself to the point of orgasm, and to lovingly rub her hard clit until she started to cum. At that very moment, when her orgasm was going to be inevitable, she'd remove her hands and lie completely still, so that although she'd came, she was left still horny, and totally unsatisfied. This had been enough for many years, but still hadn't been enough, so she'd gone and bought herself a collar. She'd saved up, in an account that Derek still didn't know about and treated herself to a steel collar. A thick, heavy collar. As she listened to Derek showering, she fondly remembers the day the parcel had arrived, the nervousness she'd felt as the delivery guy had handed the parcel over to her. She couldn't but help imagining that somehow he knew exactly what he was delivering, and that his friendly smile was somehow a knowing grin. She'd look at it, sitting there ijn it's packaging for a couple of days, almost cumming from just imagining it around her neck. She'd first put it on after a particularly bad week in which she'd found it a struggle to keep up with her rules, but had somehow managed every task without fail. The feel of the cold steel as it slipped around her neck had sent shivers through her when she'd finally decided that she deserved to be collared. As she felt the collar click closed around her neck, she'd only needed the gentlest of touches to bring herself off with the most amazing orgasm. After that first time, she'd incorporated her collar into her daily routine, making it part of her little rules. After Derek left for work, and the kids had gone to school, she's rush into the bedroom, and strip naked and kneel, reaching under the bed and fetch her collar. she'd wear it all day as she did her chores, all the while feeling that wonderful sexual tension that her self inficted slavery imposed. She wore it to her weekly afternoon bridge game, neatly hidden under a polo neck jumper, whilst in the supermarket, hidden by a scarf, in fact she only took if off when her family was due to return home. Her Masters collar and her rules had kept Wanda satisfied for a couple of years now, but there was always a nagging feeling that she could, should do more in her slavery, but she didn't know what. it was only two months ago that she found what she'd been missing. She'd been tidying up one of her daughters bedrooms, and whilst picking up the scattered magazines, she took notice of one of the articles, an article about the Goth counter culture. What first captured and then held her attention was a single picture of a lass with too much makeup, dressed in dark colours, but it was the ring through her nose that kept Wanda staring in disbelief. She could feel her already damp pussy flood with her juices as she stared at that ring. She slowly sank to her knees, looking at the picture and almost unconsciously slipped a hand under her skirt to toy with her now aching cunt. She was no longer seeing the picture, but imagining that ring though her own nose, being led around like an animal on a lead, and with that thought, her fingers found her hot, hard clit and that was all it took, a single light touch and she came and came, kneeling there in her daughters room. After that, that ring was all she could think about and how she too could get one. She knew that neither Derek, nor her friends would ever accept her wearing one, but she thought there had to be a way, a way she could complete her slavery. She took to the internet, and after many hours of research she realised that there was a way she could do it. There was a way she too could complete her Master's wishes. Judging by the sounds coming from the bathroom, Derek was nearly finished, so she had only a few more moments before she had to rise and organise her family for the day ahead. she let her fingers slip into her aching pussy, filling her, as she cast her mind back to her trip to the piercers. She smiled as she remembered the look on the guys face as he looked out into his waiting room, full of teenagers and her, realising that his next appointment was with a respectable, middle aged woman. Little did he realise that in her mind she was here on the instructions of her Master. Her legs were shaking as she walked into his studio, and she almost laughed out loud as she realised that he took her reaction as nerves, not sexual tension. She almost came as she sat on the seat and explained what she wanted. All he did was shake his head, shrug and agree with her instructions. He had tried to talk her out of having the largest septum piercing he could do, especially as a first one, but she was adamant. She didn't have the time, nor the opportunity to stretch a more normal piercing, so the only option for her was the largest he could do in one sitting. She was tensing and relaxing her thighs, squeezing her sex as he set about his business, almost bringing herself off as she sat there waiting. The feel of the clamp as he gripped her septum, tightening it until it was almost too tight, tight enough to make her eyes water. "Oh God" she thought, the pain was mixing with her arousal, and she was sure that she was going to cum, right there and then. With a struggle she fought down the desire, and told him to go ahead. She almost backed out when he took out a sterilized leather punch, telling her that normally he'd use a large gauge needle, but for what she was desiring, only a punch would do. She nodded, just wishing he'd just get on with it. Her eyes widened in shock as she felt the jaws settle inside her nose, and before she could adjust, his arms flexed and she felt the punch slide through her septum. For a moment she was in shock, then the pain kicked in, it was like having all her nasal hair pulled out at once, but only slower. As she struggled with the realisation of an irreversible step, she realised that she'd came, that she'd had an orgasm right there and then. He then took out the matte black grommet, and carefully slid it into her new piercing. there was an unsettling click as the black grommet was settled into her new septum piercing. On unsteady legs, she walked over to the mirror and looked at her new piercing. If she tilted her head back, and a little to the side, she could just make out the grommet lined opening in her septum, but normally, well she thought no one would ever notice it. That evening was a struggle, her nose HURT, but she put a brave face on it, and already had an explanation for the swelling and bruises. her family was very understanding as she told them about slipping and breaking her fall with her nose. She reassured then that it wasn't broken, and that she'd be alright. She was terrified about either Derek or her daughters noticing the grommet now snugly hiddin inside her nostrils, but she managed to keep them from examining her wounded nose too closely. it was with relief that she slipped into bed that night. She'd managed to get away with it, and that neither Derek nor her daughters had noticed her new piercing. Reluctantly, she stopped frigging her aching pussy, and swapped places with Derek in the bathroom. The rest of the morning was a blur of activity as she dressed, and went downstairs to make breakfast. Normally she enjoyed the chatter around the table as she fed her family, but today, all she wanted was for them to leave, so that she could be alone, alone with her Master. It seemed like ages, but finally they all left, leaving her alone, alone with her newly healed piercing. She made herself do the dishes and straighten out the kitchen. Even though her whole body ached to experience the feel of a ring through her nose, her mental slavery wouldn't allow it. If she didn't do the chores, she wouldn't get her reward. All the time as she worked she couldn't help but be aware of the hard, hot button that was her clit as it throbbed between her thighs, and the slick coating of her juices, but her resolve was strong and she kept her hands away from her aching need. She hadn't been good enough yet to deserve such a release. The chores done, she took small steps into the bedroom, and turned on the radio. Slowly she stripped, lap dancing to the music, dancing for her invisible Master. eventually she was naked, bathed in a fresh sexual sweat. Every breath she took filled her with the scent of extreme arousal. She stood in front of the mirror, legs spread, her arms behind her back and stared at herself, imagining that her Master was judging her. She could see her sex, all red and puffy with desperate need, a need she was going to deny herself, well just for a little while. She knelt and slowly crawled over to the bed, before reaching under the bed and removing her special box. Her arms were shaking almost too much, but soon she managed to collar herself, feeling the reassuring weight of the steel around her neck. Now was the moment she'd been waiting for, she thought as she took out the small fabric pouch with its special contents. Her fingers were shaking as she took out her special purchase. The steel ring lay thick and heavy on the palm of her hand. Slowly, as deserved for such a special moment, she lifted her hands and opened up the ring. Taking a deep breath she slid the opened ring into her septum piercing, and almost before she realised it, she'd closed the ring. When she took her hand away she could feel the weight of the steel ring tugging at her nose, sending fresh waves of arousal coursing through her. Her poor clit was throbbing, begging for attention, and it was all she could do not to touch it and give herself some relief. As she experimentally turned her head, she could feel the ring freely move, swaying to and fro, gently banging into her top lip. She crawled over to the mirror and took her fist look at her septum ring, and that was all it took, she gave in and let her hands drop into her lap, and her fingers eagerly sought out that hard button that had been crying out for realise since she'd awoken that morning. As her body shook with waves of pleasure as she had her very first multiple orgasm, her body bouncing on her thighs as she knelt, her fingers frantically toying her clit, the orgasms coming on harder and harder as she lost control of her body. She was spasming, shaking, trembling all over as her eyes drank in the image in the mirror. The steel ring through her nose matched the collar around her neck, completing the slave look she badly craved. The ring was banging into her lip as she shook with pleasure, seemingly unable to stop cumming. Each touch of the heavy ring as it swung into her lip seemed to trigger yet another orgasm. Her final thought as she collapsed onto the floor, totally spent, was that now she was complete. Claimed by the Futanari He had pink skin. It was early evening and the setting sun streamed almost horizontally through the trees as I walked home through the woods, through nature at its most beautiful. Calm, undefiled by human presence, save for myself. Except today there was someone else. Someone who did not belong there. Not at all. He had pink skin. By 'pink' I don't mean the pink of white Caucasian, not even one who has spent the day in bright sunshine without sunscreen. I mean unabashed post-modern pink. I mean fuchsia - with dense clusters here and there of scarlet freckles. By 'he' I don't mean hairy, thickset and muscular, or even chiselled, handsome features. I mean tall - taller than me, certainly - and slender, toned without bulging muscles, smooth-skinned, and entirely hairless save for long waves of cerulean blue falling about the face. I mean large, expressive eyes, sapphire blue, and full, luscious, scarlet lips, parted as if in invitation. He was beautiful, and entirely naked, curved to perfection with the largest breasts I have ever seen, tipped with large, hard, scarlet nipples. He was also - and this is what absorbed my attention to the exclusion of everything else - possessed of the largest cock I have ever seen. I am not exaggerating. It was huge. As long as my arm from elbow to fingers, and easily as thick, and it glistened at the top where precum flowed like lava from a volcano, dripping down onto the earth at his feet. When a man, woman, or alien creature points a monstrously large cock in your direction, especially one that's fully erect and pulsing with a hungry determination, the only sensible thing to do is run. If you can. If your feet are capable of even the least movement, get as far away as you can possibly get. Of course I ran - or tried to. I stumbled and collapsed onto my hands and knees, my ankles caught in gnarled roots that inched their coiling way up along my legs, others simultaneously digging down inside my socks. I screamed and fought against the imprisoning roots, my mind desperately trying to make sense of this second impossibility. It was like being in a horror movie, except this was real. Despite my struggles, the roots continued to climb and dig, and thickened as they did so, straining against the fabric of my clothes. The pressure increased unbearably, so that it was almost a relief when first one leg and moments later the second leg of my jeans tore open from ankles to knees. The roots made quick work of the rest, ripping my knickers away even as my socks and shoes burst apart. I was naked from the waist down, bound and helpless, and still the roots wound and climbed higher, forcing their way inside my bra. Thin roots tightened around my nipples, while others thickened until the pain brought tears to my eyes. My top, my vest, my bra, were shredded from me, and again my humiliation was accompanied by relief. The roots withdrew, back into the earth, save for those torturing my nipples, a manipulation that, I'm ashamed to say, I was starting to enjoy. My wrists were tugged behind my back and held there, and I was pulled backwards until I was kneeling upright. By this point I had given up screaming, and was once again captivated by the huge pink cock that now stood eye to eye with me. I could smell it now, an intensely musky odour. Alien it might be, but it smelled like a man's cock, and despite feeling an angry refusal to touch that monster in any way, I couldn't help wondering what it tasted like, or wondering whether I would be able to fit even the soft, bulbous head into my mouth. A sudden caress of my clit by a root made me jump. 'No!' I cried out, trying to wriggle away from its stimulation, but I could not escape its gentle teasing. To my further horror, I felt the familiar stirrings of desire. The tip of the giant cock was pressed to my lips, filling my mouth with the salty taste of him, and filling my nostrils with that intoxicating musk. When I tried to pull away, a pink hand grabbed hold of me by the hair and held me firmly in position, my lips pressed to the tender head. 'Open!' he - or rather she - commanded, her voice musical and unquestionably female. I kept my mouth firmly shut, but cried out in shock as a root wormed its way into my ass. The soft tip of the cock pushed between my parted lips, and a spurt of precum filled my mouth. I swallowed reflexively, and felt a pleasant warmth suffusing my flesh in its wake. More precum filled my mouth gradually, until I was forced to swallow again, and again I felt pleasure radiating through me. Horrified and humiliated, yet increasingly aroused, I yielded at last. I couldn't fight it, so decided I might as well enjoy it. I stretched my mouth wide and carefully worked my lips around the weeping head, filling my mouth entirely with it. Despite my situation, I felt pride in that achievement. The pink woman still held firm to her grip on my hair, her big blue eyes burning with lust for me, and pulled on my head even as she thrust against my throat. I'd had some experience with deep throat, but this surely wouldn't work. I breathed out, determined to try. To my utter astonishment, my throat stretched to accommodate her prodigious girth. The pain of it was extraordinary, and she held me still for what seemed like an age as I convulsed in desperate need for air. She eased out my throat and slipped out of my mouth, and gave me a minute to recover, before pushing inside again and thrusting even deeper, until my nose was pressed against her belly. Again she held me still, but this time I did not panic. With long slow thrusts she fucked my mouth and throat. The initial pain of my overstretched throat mutated into an oddly fulfilling sensation that I welcomed as much as the warm pleasure of her precum. I stopped caring about my apparent loss of reality and control, and gave in to desire. My nipples were being delightfully abused, my clit was suffering a tormentful teasing, and the root penetrating my ass was growing thicker and thicker as it fucked in time with the cock penetrating me so unnaturally. Her thrusting increased in speed, and the pauses to allow me to breathe grew shorter and shorter. I could tell from her anguished expression that she was close. With the hand that wasn't holding me she pinched and rubbed her scarlet nipples until they seemed to glow. She whimpered as her enormous cock seemed suddenly to thicken even further, and then the shaft convulsed along its whole length and I felt the pressure of her cum filling my insides. The sensation pushed me over the edge too, and still unable to move much or even draw breath I convulsed silently about the monster in my throat. She pulled out of me and I filled my lungs with a huge noisy breath, but she wasn't finished yet. Thick white cum jetted from the still convulsing cock, splashing across my cheek, then another across my nose and my other cheek, still more and I closed my eyes just in time. I felt more streaking across my breasts and wondered if she would ever stop, but then she was between my lips again and my mouth filled with the familiar taste of cum. I kept my mouth wide open, a receptacle for her cum, and yet she filled it to overflowing before finally coming to an end. I swallowed carefully, drinking more cum in that one moment than all I had ever had before. The warm, thick fluid sank into me with an exquisite pleasure that provoked a long, mild orgasm. I must have looked like the women in those porn films I hated for their unreality, my face and breasts covered with cum, though in my case one woman had achieved more than a handful of men possibly could. Her mouth fastened about my left nipple, sucking gently as her tongue swept around the too sensitive tip. She kissed and licked my left breast, firmly and gently, then her soft lips pressed against mine and cum poured into my mouth as we kissed, our tongues dancing. She moved to my right breast, this time circling in from the edges to finish at the nipple, which she bit gently before kissing me once again around a stream of cum. How much had I drunk so far? Two mouthfuls? Three? More? Her lips and tongue explored my face and lingered warm against my sensitive neck, returning often to deliver more cum to my hungry lips. At last my eyes were clear, and I opened them to see her smiling at me. 'What's your name, my beautiful little cumslut?' she asked. 'Ali,' I said. 'Ali. That's pretty. I'm Annabel, and I think I've chosen an excellent partner.' Somehow I felt she meant more than just forcing herself on me in the woods. 'Partner?' I asked, but she merely pushed me backwards until I landed on my bum, the roots dragging my feet wide apart. There was no doubting what would happen next, and although I had been terrified of the idea earlier, now I welcomed it, although whether it would fit was a different matter. The affection in her eyes mingled with new lust, and the mighty shaft that had stretched my throat impossibly was undiminished from its labours. Once again it wept clear precum that she wiped against the lips of my waiting pussy, sending shivers of excitement through me. The thick root in my ass, that had rested since my earlier climax, woke again, squirming and wriggling inside me as she brushed and caressed my lips and clit with the tender head of her cock. Until I could stand it no longer. 'Fuck me,' I begged, and she grinned fiercely, pressing down firmly. I gasped as my lips were spread wider than ever before, and panted as my vagina was slowly stretched. When the head was fully inside she rested for a minute, allowing me to adjust, then she thrust deeper until she penetrated me to a depth no other cock had ever reached. Fully half that incredible length was buried inside me. She pulled out until only the head remained within me, then drove it back in, forcing a cry of pure pleasure from my lungs. She bent down to kiss me, her breasts squashing against mine, and moving only her hips she fucked me with short rough thrusts, though short for her was full length for an ordinary man. I kept expecting to feel the head batter against my cervix, but instead there was only the continual surprise as each descent delved deeper into me, impossibly deep, until she was buried to the hilt, in defiance of all I knew of human anatomy. I could feel the walls of my inexplicably long vagina being stretched all along their length, my belly distorted around the great invader, and surreal though it was, to be filled so astonishly completely was a satisfaction so intense that my last tenuous grip on human reality gave way, and for the first time I truly embraced what was happening to me. 'Harder!' I begged her. 'Fuck me harder.' Instead, she withdrew from me, slipping her great length free and leaving me painfully empty. At the same time the roots whipped away, back into the earth, even the thick root that had been working itself deeper and deeper into places no cock could ever reach. I was unrestrained, but had no thought of escape. I wanted her to finish what she had started, to fill every part of me, to claim my entirety as her own and never stop. She smiled, kind but stern. 'Stand up, Ali,' she ordered. 'Put your hands on that tree.' She pointed to a decaying trunk of a large tree that fell down some years before. I struggled to my feet and walked shakily to where she indicated. With my hands on the mossy bark, my ass looked back at my pink lover, and I prayed for her to take advantage of what was on offer. She knelt behind me and made love to me with her lips and tongue, burying her nose between my folds as she licked around my clit. I loved what she was doing, but I ached to feel her hard cock stretching my impossible depths again. 'Fuck me!' I pleaded. 'Do you give yourself to me?' she asked. 'Heart, body and soul?' 'Yes!' I cried. I would have promised her anything at that moment just to get her to bury that beautiful monster in me again. I suffered no longer. In an instant she was pressed against me, thrusting between my lips and deep, deep inside me. 'Yes!' I screamed, and she pulled out in order to thrust in again. With long, hard, fast strokes she fucked me this time. I climaxed almost immediately, and waves of orgasm washed through me in time with her thrusting, and time itself collapsed to meaninglessness as I lost myself in a sea of pleasure. Until Annabel too climaxed, her cock pulsing powerfully inside me, flooding my depths with her hot cum. Five, six times I felt that surge of fluid, then she pulled free of me and cum splashed out across the cheeks of my bum and striped across my back. She pressed the tip against that sensitive ring of muscle so recently loosened by the thick root that had invaded my ass, and cum spurted through. She craved more than just that peek, however, and pushed against the little ring that had never known anything so big, her hands gripping my hips fiercely until with a roar of victory she gained entry. She rested to catch her breath, the thick head of her cock lodged within me, still pulsing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. I struggled to stay standing at all, overwhelmed by the pain of that assault, but that pain was giving way slowly to a perverse pleasure too. She had abused my mouth and vagina with her monster cock, and now she was claiming my ass too, as indeed I had wanted her to do. 'Will you give me the same pleasure I have given you?' she asked. 'Yes!' I gasped, still trying to catch my breath. As she pushed against me, working her cock gradually deeper into my nether regions, the friction exciting my sphincter deliciously, I was distracted by an itchiness at my pelvis, from that region of pubic hair just above my labia. I couldn't see because my breasts were hanging in the way, and in this position they seemed larger than usual. Besides, it was getting dark now and difficult to see anything clearly. I reached back to explore, but Annabel stopped me. 'Keep your hands on the tree,' she said, thrusting in yet another inch of her cock, once again defying human anatomy. At last her pelvis was pressed tight against my bum, and she began fucking me in earnest, pulling out slowly only to thrust in swiftly. It was exquisitely painful and utterly wonderful, but the strange and increasingly intense sensation in my groin distracted me, prevented me from achieving the climax I craved. Annabel was fast approaching hers, her movements increasingly erratic, but just as I was sure she was there, she stopped and lifted me into a standing position, her cock still hard and deep inside me. Her hands circled my waist and grabbed me - I finally understood what I was feeling! With both hands she caressed the cock that had sprung from me. I screamed and tried to escape, but I was impaled on her, captured by her, and her cool hands against my erect cock felt incredible. It was nowhere near as large as hers, but it was still longer and thicker than any of my past boyfriends' cocks - some of them very well endowed - and I was suddenly sure that my breasts were larger than before. She resumed her thrusting from behind as her hands stroked and played deliciously along the length of my erection, her mouth nuzzling my sensitive neck, while my own hands squeezed and crushed my expanded breasts and pinched nipples that projected like bullets. She cried by my ear as she climaxed, and as her cum erupted deep within me, my whole body clenched with the impact of my own orgasm, more intense than any I had experienced yet. I convulsed helplessly in her arms, contracting fiercely about the cock that pulsed so wonderfully in my ass, my own cock pulsing within her hands, spurting cum into the night air. It seemed to last forever. She filled her hands with my cum and massaged my breasts with it, before seeking my clit with one hand and slipping the fingers of the other into my mouth. 'Taste yourself, my little cumslut,' she hissed in my ear. Her fingers against my clit forced yet another climax from me as I sucked her fingers. She brought her other hand to my mouth and pushed it in. 'Now taste both of us,' she whispered. Her fingers were soaked from her own cum that was leaking from my pussy and wetting my inner thighs. Annabel pulled her cock, still erect but softening gradually, slowly out of my ass, and I fell to my knees exhausted. She knelt beside me and we kissed tenderly. 'You belong to me now, Ali,' she said, and I nodded, instinctively knowing it to be true. 'Go home now, little one, and rest, but return whenever I call.' 'Yes, Mistress,' I said, feeling that to be the correct way to address her, and was rewarded with a smile. She turned and walked into the shadows between the trees and was quickly swallowed up by the dark. I forced myself to my feet and began the long walk home - not so far in reality, but I was shoeless, and indeed entirely naked, the cool air cold against my cum-splashed skin, my thighs increasingly wet and sticky as yet more cum escaped from my ass and pussy, some of which I scooped up with my fingers, wanting to taste again our combined pleasure.