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Breaking Down

By: serenite



It was a hot day, the breeze barely blowing, a fine day for her car to break down on the side of the road. She was on her way to meet a friend, they were due to go to a long awaited concert. They had planned it for months. She would take off work that day to drive the 70 miles to her friend's house. They will be spend the day being lazy, and getting ready for the concert. As luck would have it though, her car decided it was time for a break. Not only did it take a break, but also in a spot where the cell phone couldn't pick up a single. She had sat in the car thinking someone would come along shortly and help her, but it hadn't happened. She waited by the car for an hour, deciding she was getting no where just standing around she started walking down the highway, hoping to reach the nearest store.

It seemed she had been walking forever. Her throat was parched from the lack of drink and her feet were hurting her from walking on the hot pavement. An hour, she had been walking, an hour, not one car had passed by her. She hadn't see any signs of a near by store either. She had hoped her friend wasn't worrying about her. She hated to cause anyone grief about her.

In the distance it sounded like a vehicle coming down the road. She turned, putting her right hand up to shield her eyes, she look back down the road. Yes,.. it was.. it was a vehicle coming towards her. Her spirits heighten as she heard the roaring of the engine coming closer. As the vehicle approached her, she noticed it was a man, driving what appeared to be a nice sports car, with the top down.

He had been out just driving, leaving the week of stress behind. He had been driving along when he spotted the vehicle on the side of the road. Pulling behind the vehicle, he got out, walking towards the driver side. He looked inside, but no one was there, deciding all was well he got back in his car and started back down the road.

He hadn't been driving to long when he noticed someone in the distance walking. He thought it was a woman from the silhouette against the sun, but wasn’t sure. As he got closer he could tell it was definitely a woman. She had shoulder length hair, and nice looking body. She wore a short skirt, reaching almost to the top of her ass and a thin white blouse. As he pulled closer and stopped, she turn towards him, he could see the blouse was unbuttoned to the tops of her breasts. She smiled at him. 

She was surprised to find an older gentleman driving the car, but was happy all in all that it was a person and a vehicle. He was a very nice looking gentleman, with slightly graying hair and dark complexion. He was wearing a white shirt, open to the second button, not showing a lot of chest and a pair of jeans. Casually dress, he was very good looking. 

She placed her hands on the car and leaned over just a little. She didn't realize this gave him a great view of her breasts. He could see the sweat run down her cleavage and had a yearning to reach up and wipe it away. "Hi," she said with a warm smile, drowning his attention back to her face.

"Hi," he replied back to her. "Is that your car I seen parked on the side of the road back there", he asked.

"Yes, it is. It just up and died going down the road. I'm not sure what the problem is and my cell phone won't work out here in the middle of no where," she giggled. "Would you be so kind as to give a lift to the nearest store. I can call a friend from there and have her come and pick me up."

"Sure, hop in. It's not a problem. I think the nearest store is about ten miles up the road." He reached over, opening the door for her to slide in. As she got in, he noticed her skirt rode up her thighs, revealing she wore no panties. She became aware that her skirt had ridden up and tried pulling it down. The more she fought it, the worse it became. It was like the seats of the car loved her skirt and wanted it. Finally she gave up, leaving him with a view of her sweet snatch.

They talked easily as they drove down the road. He's eyes kept going back to the lovely view her skirt provided for him. He's cock grew hard and painful as they drove. He could hardly stand it, she sat there with her legs open, almost giving him the invitation to her. He wonder if she was wet and how good she would taste.

She noticed the bugle that was beginning in his jeans and could tell it was strained against the material. She became wet looking at he's hard cock, wondering how easy he would slide in her mouth. She unconsciously licked her lips as the thought danced through her mind.

"You must be thirsty after all the walking you have done. I have some bottles of water in a cooler in the trunk, if you like I can pull over and get you one," he spoke this with a smile on his face, all the while having a idea dancing in his mind. He was remembering the rope and hand cuffs he had in the trunk and was picturing her being his pretty captive all tied up.

"That would be great, if it's not too much trouble," she softly spoke.

"Not a problem." He quickly pulled the car to side and jumped out. Walking to the back, he popped open the trunk acting as though he was getting her some water. He reached in the trunk, grabbing the rope and hand cuffs, tucking the rope into the back pocket of his jeans and holding the cuffs in his hand, he walked to her side of the car. Thinking he was glad he had the top down, it would make it so much easier to over power her. 

She could hear him in the trunk of the car, then his footsteps as he walked up to the side of the car. Thinking she was about to be handed a bottle of water, she placed her right arm on the top of the door, instead she felt the cool metal of the hand cuffs being slapped on her wrists and them being pulled behind her back. Her heart started racing, as the panic rose in her. 

"Please don't hurt me, just let me go. I won't tell anyone," she begged him as fear and panic seized her.

He could hear the fear in her voice and he became even more excited. "I think not, sweetie. Now then, continue doing as your told, and nothing bad will happen. Understand?", he asked her.

She answered in a nervous voice, "Yes." 

He looked at her sternly, "It's yes, Sir." 

"Yyyes Sir," she managed to get out.

He walked to the back of the car, closing the trunk and the proceeded to the driver side. Climbing in, he started the car again and they took off down the road. She sat silently, tears running down her face. "No need for tears, Sweetie, you might even like what I have planned," he spoke to her in a soft gentle voice. He's voice had a calming affect on her. Like a child she sniffed a few times and the tears were gone. He reached over and stroked the top of her thigh. He's hand was hard, but warm and gentle. She could feel the wetness beginning between her thighs. "I forgot one thing I need to do, Sweetie." He pulled to the side of the road as he told her this. He reached into the glove box of the car, pulling out a silk scarf. He placed it over her eyes, tying it securely behind her head.

"Why did you that do, Sir", she asked him.

"It makes things a little more interesting," was he's only reply. 

After blindfolding her, he started the car back on the road. With her sense of sight gone, she became fearful of what was to come. They continued driving, only now in total silence. She could feel the car starting to slow down, then it making a right hand turn. She could tell they had gone from the pavement to gravel road. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her mind racing. She visible shook as they drove farther down the gravel road.

He watched her as they turned from the highway. He could tell her demeanor was gone and she was becoming afraid again. "It's ok, remember what I said, as long as you do as you are told nothing bad will happen," he spoke to her in soothing tones. He watched her as she started relaxing and smiled knowing he was controlling her. He knew they would have fun, he could tell she would enjoy the sweet torture he was soon to bestow on her body.

She felt the car slowing down again, this time coming to a stop. "Sit still and don't move," he instructed her. She heard him opening the car door and getting out. Again her heart started racing and her breathing became labored. She wondered why he was doing this and what he had planned. She jumped when he opened her car door and grabbed her arm, half dragging her from the car.

He lead her deep into the woods, he weaving his way through as though he had been there before. He was looking, searching for the perfect spot. Finally he found what he was looking for. "Stand here." She didn't move another step. Listening, she could hear him moving around, but she couldn't make out what they were.

He stepped away from her, taking the rope he had brought with them, he threw it over a large pine tree branch. He tied a loop in one end of it and let the other fall to the ground. He walked back over to her, taking her by the arm he lead her to the rope. He uncuffed one her hands from behind her back, and brought them both in front of her, re-cuffing them. Then he took the looped end of the rope and placed it around her already bound hands. "Don't move." Again she could hear him moving way from her. As soon as he stepped away, she jerked the blindfold down and start to run. 

Just as she thought she might get some distance she felt the tug on her hands. He yanked on the rope, catching her off guard, causing her to fall to the ground backwards. She felt her hands being roughly pulled up over her head. She struggled to her feet, trying to keep up, but she fell again as he continued to pull the rope. Finally he stopped, "Stand up," he growled.

Rising quickly to her feet, he finished pulling her hands up. She stood there flat footed, with her arms over her head, looking like a frighten rabbit, quickly he tied the rope off to the tree. He took another piece of rope and secured it to her left ankle, grabbing the other end, he walked to a tree on her left side and tied it there. He did the same to her right ankle, this time pulling the rope tight, causing her to spread her legs wide. He walked back over to the rope that held her left ankle and tighten it as well. She was well bound, not able to move, much less to escape him. 

He walked over to her, and place the blindfold back over her eyes. He put his mouth up against her left ear, "I told you not to move, now you will have to pay," he said in a cold whisper. He stood back and watch as she shook from the fear that over took her. He pulled out his pocket knife and opened it. He stepped back up to her, taking the back side of the blade, he slowly drew it down her cheek. She shivered as she felt the coldness of the blade.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I will behave. I will do what you tell me, just please don't hurt me," she begged him.

He reached his other hand into her hair, pulling on it gently, he kissed her tenderly. She was shocked by his tenderness, and even more shocked by how quickly she surrender to his kiss. As he traced his tongue along her lips, she opened her mouth as an invitation to him. He excepted it, greedily, and enter her mouth with his tongue. He kissed her deeply till he heard her moan, he pulled away, leaving her confused and dazed. 

She felt her blouse being ripped opened at the front, the small buttons to fly in different directions. Her face burned as she hung there exposed to him knowing there was nothing she could do about it. Feeling the coldness of the blade against her skin, he was taking the knife and circling her breasts with it. Despite the fear she felt, her nipples became hard under he teasing of the blade. "Nice, very nice," he said to her. She could feel the heat rise up once again in her face. He took her left breast in his hand, squeezing it, massaging it. He gripped her harden nipple between his thumb and index finger, pinching it, and pulling on it. She gasped from the pain and pleasure that pulsed through her breast. She felt her wetness starting to form between her open thighs again. He slowly let his hand travel to her right breast, giving it the same attention, this time a small moan escaping from her lips. Smiling, he asked her, "You like that?" 

She knew she shouldn't, but yes, yes she did. He continue his play with her breasts, asking her the question again. When he didn't get an answer he pinched both of nipples at the same time harder, she gasped loudly, "Answer me. Do you like this?", he asked her in a commanding voice.

"Yesssss," she moaned more then spoke. Her wetness now starting to run down the inside of her open thighs.

He stepped behind her, grabbing the back of her blouse, he took the knife and cut down the back of it, then ripping it off of her. He then cut the sleeves from her arms. Moving to stand in front of her, he stepped back and admired his pretty captive. Watching the rise and fall of her breasts as she took each breath, trying to calm her body.

He looked around at the trees surrounding them, he spotted a small pine tree sapling, walking to it and breaking it off. He walked back over to his captive. Slowly dragging the pokey needles of the sapling across her breasts. She moaned as she first felt the needles as they teased her breasts. Swoosh.. she felt the sudden sting of the needles. She gasps from the shock of it, not the pain, he hadn't swung it hard enough to hurt her. Again, he dragged the sapling across her breasts, then down her stomach causing her to suck her breath in. Back up to her breasts and around her sides. He watched her closely as her body quivered with each stroke. He could see she was breathing hard, fighting against herself to not to surrender to sweet the torture he bestowed on her body. 

Taking the knife, he it dance against the smooth skin of stomach. He smiled watching her flesh quiver from the teasing touch of the blade. He then stuck the knife in waist band of her skirt, ripping first one side then the other, the skirt falling to the ground. He watched the blush from her face spread across her body, the humiliation of her being naked and bound before him, unable to stop him, completely at his mercy. Stepping back, he noticed the wetness running down her thighs.

She was mortified as she stood there, legs spread wide, her hands and feet bound. There was nothing she could do to stop this man from taking and doing what he wanted. She hated herself, she liked what he was doing to her. Her mind screamed at her, telling her shouldn't be enjoying this, but her heart, was screaming, begging him to do more. She could feel her the evidence of her lust running down her soft velvet thighs.

He stood beside her, his body touching hers, his hand gliding over her breasts, across her stomach, traveling lower till his hand rested at the top of her lovely pussy. He could feel the heat rising from her, smell her sweet essence of arousal. Watching her face as he teasingly slid his hand over the lips of her aching pussy. He watched the emotions play across her face and could hear her sighs and moans as he teased her. He slid a finger between her soaking lips, touching her clit. She thrust her hips forward and he chuckled at her. "You are enjoying yourself, aren't you, whore?" Smiling he knew what her answer was.

Her hung head down, ashamed of herself, answering, "Yes, Sir."

His cock was hard and straining against his jeans as he tortured his captive. Needing to relieve his lust, he decided to change her position. He walked over to the tree and loosened the ropes that bound her hands and feet. "On your knees, slut," he demand. She dropped to her knees, and he tightened the ropes, pulling her arms back over her. Casually he strolled back over to her. “Spread your thighs, cunt,” he said to her. Kneeling down, he pulled the ends of the rope to him that bound to her ankles. Wrapping the ends around her thigh, making her feet rest against the back of her thighs. Taking another piece of rope, he circled her waist with it, pulling the end through the loop. Taking hold of the end, he push it between her spread thighs from behind and. reached through in front of her, he pulled the rope towards him. The rope pulled snuggly into the crack of her ass and upwards, sliding against her swollen clit. Holding the rope in his hand, he rose up to stand in front of her and slowly unzipping his jeans. His swollen cock sprung forth, the glistening with his pre-cum.

She could hear the zipper on his jeans as he lowered it. She knew that the position she was in what was coming. She licked her lips in anticipation of tasting his cock. She had a strong desire to taste him, to please him with her mouth. She wanted this, yet she couldn't understand why. Why she was so willing, so wanting for this man to use her.

He snickered at her, "You want to suck my cock, cunt?"

Chills of desire ran down her body as he called her the vulgar name. "Oh yes, Sir, please let me suck Your cock, Sir," she was begging him.

Taking his hard cock in his hand, he smacked it against her lips. "You like that, slut?" She tried grabbing his cock with her lips as his smacked it against her lips. "Answer me, cunt," he said.

"Yes, Sir, I love it," was her reply, her voice laced with lust.

He grabbed her by her hair, "Open your mouth wide, whore. I'm going to please myself with it." 

Opening her mouth, he slowly slide his cock in, savoring the wet velvety softness of her mouth. She wrapped her lips around it greedily as he slide his cock all the way in. He started thrusting his hips, shoving his cock in and out of her mouth. As he increased his rhythm, he started tugging on the rope that ran against her clit. She moaned on his cock and he knew he had her where he wanted her. The faster he pumped her mouth, the hard she sucked his cock, the more he tugged on the rope. He was getting close to his release and he could tell by her moans she was too. He let the rope fall from his hand and heard her moan of frustration as the friction against her clit stop. He grabbed her head with both of his hands and started really thrusting her mouth. He feeling his cock swell to it's fullest, he shoved it deep down her throat and held it there as he grunted loudly, emptying his seed in her throat.

She gagged trying to swallow the hefty load he shot down her throat. He held her tight against his cock, not allowing her to pull away. She swallowed hard, the feel of her throat muscles clinching on his cock, milked him of the few drops. He moaned as his cock finally emptied it self’s completely. He remained in her mouth as his cock grew limp. Loosening the hold on her head, he gently stroked her cheek, "Mmmmm, such a good slut." She thought her heart would jump out of her chest, she was so happy. But why? Again, the strange feeling crossed her. Why should it matter if she pleased him, she was tied up. 

He pulled his limp cock from her mouth and kneeled down to untie the ropes at her thighs. He stood up and walked to rope that held her hands. Untying it, he slowly pulled on it, telling her to rise to her feet. Instead of leaving her flat footed, this time he kept pulling till she was on her toes. Securing the rope, he walked over to her saying, "Let's see how wet, my sweet slut is." He slid his finger down barely touching the top of her cunt when he felt the first traces of her juices. "My whore is very wet, I see," he said aloud. He slid his fingers down to her lips. They were slick with her cunt juices and swollen from her lust. She moaned as he moved his fingers over them. 

Pushing her thighs apart, he reached between them, pulling the rope back through. Holding on to it, he tied a knot in it. Pulling up on the rope, the knot slide snuggly against her clit. She moaned loudly as the knot rubbed against her clit, while he tied the end of rope to the handcuffs. Pulling it snug, so if she let herself down off her toes, the rope would pull the knot against her clit. He sat himself at her feet and slowly slide his hand up the inside of her right leg. Her moan was almost a purr as his hand traveled upwards. He let his fingers brush against the knot, then travel deeper into her folds. His finger circled and teased the entrance of her pussy. Holding his finger barely outside of her , he waited. Finally she begged him, "Please, Sir, stick Your finger in this cunt's pussy." 


Breaking Down



We were halfway through New Mexico when the car broke down. I told Denise we should have rented one for the cross country trip we were taking to Florida for spring break, but she insisted her old Mazda clunker would be fine. So, by chance of fate, we found ourselves in the middle of the desert, completely stranded. Luckily, we broke down near this little motel. It didn't look great, but it was a place to stay for the night. Walking into the office, Denise sat down while I checked us in.

"We need two rooms, please." I told the teenaged clerk who looked as though she'd rather be anywhere but where she was. 

Sighing as though I had troubled her greatly, she muttered "Only one room left." And she jerked her head toward a single key hanging off the wall. 

Shrugging, I told her "We'll take it." What else could we do? After signing a few pieces of paperwork and giving her a credit card number, she handed me a worn wooden cactus attached to an equally worn key that I was sure went to an even more worn room. Grabbing the backpacks we brought with us from the car, we headed back out of the office and down the street to a tiny mini-market for dinner. 

In the market, we picked up nutritious foods like twinkies, cheetoes, and snickers bars. To go with all that, I grabbed a couple bottles of cheap wine and some plastic cups. Just as we were paying for our purchases, the ground rumbled with the sound of thunder and rain began to pour from the sky. Wrapping our meager tee shirts around our arms as best we could, we darted back to our little motel and into our seedy room. To no avail, we were both soaked to the bone. Rain dripped from my nose and down my cheek. Flipping a quarter, we decided I got to shower first, while she set up our dinner and drinks. The warm water steamed over the tiny bathroom in no time and I had almost forgotten about being cold when I was done. By the time I came out, Denise had already eaten her twinkies, and drank half of the first bottle of wine. 

"Your turn." I said to her, grabbing a cup of wine for myself. She smiled a little crookedly and giggled her way into the bathroom. I poured the rest of the bottle of wine into my cup as I flicked through the channels on the television. There were only three channels, so I flicked through them a lot while I waited for her to come back out. I finally settled on some cheesy western show. Sipping my wine, I took in the decorum. The room was painted sea foam green with little dark green cactuses everywhere. A wicker chair sat in the corner, looking as though it were a decade old. In the center of the room sat a sagging king sized bed with a cactus-speckled tan comforter. Settling myself on the bed, Denise finally came out of the shower, her long dark hair dripping down the front of her shirt. I couldn't help but notice that her white top fit very snug against her large breasts. 

Smiling into my cup of wine I said "Only one bed...Where should the other one sleep?" Stopping in her tracks, she looked around the room. She looked back at me and gives me a shrug 

"It's big enough for both of us. We can share." 

Throwing back the last of my wine, I joke "Okay, but don't kick me, or I'll kick you back." Giggling, she grabs the second bottle of wine and jumps into the bed next to me. 

"That shower felt so good" She moans. I nod and open the new bottle and pour us two more cups of wine. We sit there in bed, drinking wine and talking about what movies we want to see, what we were going to do in Florida, things like that. 

We finally finish off the last of the wine, and somehow the talk turns to our sex lives. 

"You know, Miranda, I don't know if I've seen you with a guy for a long time." She points out. I simply nod, not acknowledging that it had been a long time since I'd had a guy around. 

Smiling evilly, she says "Maybe you just aren't into guys anymore. Maybe you bat for the other team." I just grin and give her a good natured shove. 

"Is that it? You like girls more than guys?" She keeps on. 

Pretending to think for a moment, I grin and tell her "Maybe I do. Maybe I think girls more fun." 

Winking at me, she asks in a terribly fake English accent "Do I make you randy, Randy?" 

Trying her hardest to give me a seductive look, she leans in close to me and asks with a bit of a slur "Do you want to fuck me?" Before I knew what I was doing, my lips were all over hers. A small gasp of pleasure escapes my mouth just when I realized what was going on. As fast as I had started, I stop myself and roll over onto my side. Muttering an apology, I close my eyes as if to make the room disappear. There is nothing but silence from her side of the bed, but I'm too embarrassed to look at her expression. Blushing furiously, I bury my head into my pillow. 

Just then, I hear the mattress groan from Denise's movements. I feel her fingers graze my hip and slide under my shirt. Before I can react to what's going on, her hand is cupping my breast. Electricity shoots through my body and my nipples are instantly erect. Slowly turning me onto my back, she slides her other hand under my top and begins to caress me. Gazing deep into her eyes, I can't find a single word to say. Her fingers begin to pinch and pull at my nipples and I can't help but let out a soft moan, my back arching slightly. It'd been so long since anyone had touched me at all, and she was so good at it. Slipping one hand behind my back, Denise raises me to a sitting position and slips my shirt off with the other. Gently laying me back down, she lowers her mouth to my breasts, gently sucking and licking. My skin tingles with every touch. Finally sitting back up, Denise takes her hands from me.

"Denise..." I begin in a whisper, but she stops me, putting a finger to her lips with a soft 'Shh'. With that, she slowly pulls her own top off, revealing her big beautiful tits. My eyes lower to take in the sight, and I find I can't stop staring at her breasts. They are more beautiful than I had ever imagined. Smiling coyly, she slowly lowers herself next to me, stroking her hand up my side and back down my leg. She begins to nibble on my neck, causing me to moan again. My eyes closed, I focus on the feel of her mouth on me. I can feel her hand resting on my stomach, playing with the band of the pajama pants I'm wearing. Moving her mouth up to lick and nibble my ear, she slips her hand into my pants and rests it gently on top of my thigh. I inhale sharply and bite my lip in anticipation, in desire. Stroking my thigh, she moves down to the soft inner section at the very top of my thigh. She's so close to me now, she can probably feel the heat coming from between my legs. 

Sitting up again, she pulls my pants from me, leaving me in only my little white boy shorts. She can see how turned on she's made me, how soaking wet I was. I see a look of lust in her eye as she gazes at my naked body. Just then, she slips her hands down my panties and thrusts a finger into me. My whole body spasms with excitement. My back arcs with the incredible pleasure going through me. I'm dripping wet, and getting wetter by the second, and Denise is using her free hand to rub her own clit. My moans get louder as she brings me closer and closer to an orgasm, pumping her finger in and out of me faster and faster. I'm right on the edge when she slows suddenly and begins to rub me, barely going in me at all. 

All I can do is whimper, my thighs trembling with anticipation. I watch her as she touches herself, getting even more turned on by that image. Finally, I can't take it anymore and I push Denise down on the bed. I rip the last thin piece of fabric from my body and straddle her head, bringing myself down onto her mouth. Pulling her pants down, I bury my own head between her legs, licking and sucking at her dripping pussy. She licks me softly at first, gently. I moan into her and that seems to drive her wild. She grabs my ass and pulls me down tighter against her face, sucking wildly. It feels so good, I get louder and louder, all the while my face is buried in her wet pussy. The more noise I make, the faster and harder she goes, a vicious cycle. 

"Oh shit, you're so good." I moan. I begin to lick just her clit and shove two fingers inside of her, thrusting them in and out hard. She screams into me, and that finally pushes me over. I cum hard as I suck on her clit. 

Pulling me away from her face, she sticks her thumb into my drenched pussy, rubbing me from the inside. I'm still driving my two fingers into her, and she lets out another ecstatic scream as she cums. Pulling myself away from her pussy and off her face, I turn my attention to those huge tits of hers, licking and pulling on them. She moans and squirms as I rub her tits. 

I lock my mouth onto hers and kiss her deeply, running my hand up and down her body. I pull her on top of me so I can rub her back like I did her front. I want to feel every inch of her. Her mouth stays locked onto mine, and my hand explores her shoulders, the small of her back, her sexy ass. Nibbling her lips, I stick a finger down between her legs, letting her juices run over me. Raising my hand back up to her ass, I stick it in. With all the lubrication, I have no trouble at all. She lets out a surprised gasp as I slip in, then a soft moan. I very slowly begin to stroke her there. Her breathing gets harder but less frantic. Using my lips, I kiss her neck, nibble her earlobe. 

All Denise can do is lie on top of me, not daring to move a muscle. 

"Oh, Miranda, oh god YES!" She cries as I begin to speed up the movement inside her. She's panting with desire now, wanting more, but wanting it to stay the same. She raises a hand to my breast, rubbing and flicking at my erect nipple. Her eyes are closed in delight, and her shoulder muscles are tense with pleasure. Slowly rolling her onto her side, never taking my finger out of her, I lift up one of her legs. I take my thumb and insert it into her pussy. Denise's eyes snap open as she gasps for breath. I'm going much faster now, not as worried about causing any pain. Her pants turn to moans that get louder and louder with every thrust I make. 

Finally, she cums again with a gasp that seems to take her every breath away. We're both sweating and the room smells heavily of sex as we fall asleep in each other's arms. Needless to say, I never called her car 'junk' after that.



Breaking Down a Professional Woman



1.

We were having coffee for the third time when things took a surprising turn.

She said "You're very good at talking about the game of submission in this sort of academic way, that follows the stories you like to read; limits, safe words, theatrical dungeons, stone floors, chains, stylish leather wear, dramatic lighting, pain and release, a defined play time. It's not far from the rest of your life, where you are always planning and always on a schedule and usually achieving your goals, even if your goal is a different erotic direction. But you are missing what's in it for me, why I end up talking with women like you."

I looked up from my hazelnut latte with skim milk and my face was hot, not used to being criticized so quickly. I had dressed carefully for this coffee shop meeting, gunmetal gray silk blouse, 2 buttons open, hint of lace bra visible, slim expensive black skirt, tall heels and dark stockings, the fashionable submissive look, a heavy silver wrist cuff to hint at the idea, my hair carefully done. I was trying to collect my thoughts, to respond to this unexpected comment.

"My interest is in the power of control, of taking people who think they are erotic and submissive out of their comfort zone to actually find out for themselves a new depth of feeling about what brought them to need to do this. For most of your life you were a good girl, now you are an educated submissive who has read all the classic books. You want to fit this in with your other roles, as an office leader and a self- sufficient woman with gym classes and a weekend schedule, to get that extra sexual thrill but in a moderate and controlled way." 

She reached over, and took my coffee cup away, and took my wrist firmly. "What interests me is undoing all that, deconstructing you to get to the essence of what you need. It is a simple plan, though; you will do as I say, with no negotiation, but you can walk away any time." She bent my wrist and slid her hand down, to squeeze my fingers together and dunk them into the warm coffee. And I let her.

She was watching my eyes, and she saw my first small defeat. Fashionable, professional, well-dressed women did not make a mess with their hands in the coffee. It wasn't a dramatic demand, it was just a small piece of physical control which I accepted, knowing that it would be embarrassing to speak loudly about it.

"Give me your keys, we'll take your car. Whatever you had planned for this afternoon has changed." She had let go of my wrist, leaving my fingers still in the latte, and she sat back with an appraising smile, sipping her double espresso. She was watching my eyes and my thoughts, as I removed my hand and sucked the fingers clean. I reached down to pick up my purse, the clever find at the Kate Spade outlet store, and took out my ring of keys with the Lexus key tag.

"You've been a good girl for 40 years now, it may take a while to chip away all those layers. You know all the rules, to dress carefully, buy nice things that suit your looks, take care of your grooming and your health, move with modesty, eat politely, do your share, be quiet about your sexuality, cooperate with others. As I find the edges of your old training I will keep pushing them back, to get you to new places. That is the part I enjoy, having to read you in order to break you down."

2

She took my keys and stood up to slip on her coat. As I got up, she took my coat from me. "It's not all that cold, let me keep that for you." It was cold, in fact, an early winter day with a look of possible snow, and as we walked out I was shivering in only my silk blouse. She beeped the key ring to find my car, walking ahead of me to the dark burgundy sedan with the lights on. She walked around to the passenger side, to open the door for me, but before I could slide in she kept me standing and shivering in the open door. She slipped the keys into her pocket and took my chin with one hand, tilting my head up. Her other hand went to my right breast, cupping and lifting it through the thin blouse. She was looking directly into my eyes from a few inches away.

"Good girls are careful to wear a coat when it's cold, and would never let anyone touch their body in public like this. Or be as excited about it as you seem to be. Take off this blouse and the bra, right here right now." We were in the parking lot of the suburban local shopping center, as a few snowflakes drifted down and cars came and went. I had to see what came next. I fumbled in the cold with the silk-covered buttons to open and un-tuck my blouse, and handed the gray silk to her, then the cream lace bra. I was topless in skirt and heels, freezing with aching nipples in the cold. I had never before been undressed like this. It was probably over in 30 seconds, before I slid into my own car, but she was smiling as she closed the door with a solid thunk.

In the car, she reached over to fasten my seatbelt and study the controls. "We are going to be driving for about 20 minutes to my house, I want to see you touching your nipples the whole time, but not covering yourself. Start thinking about what you are becoming." She drove smoothly, with the wipers brushing the falling snow. She was normally dressed and busy with driving, I was half naked and touching my body as she glanced over. 

Another first, I had never touched myself this way with an audience. When we stopped for a red light, in front of the library on Spring Street, she reached over to lift my chin, so that I was sitting straight up in the seat, and turned my face toward the window. The woman in the next car, in her winter coat with a baby seat in the back, turned to look at me and her face showed surprise- I was obviously half naked with my breasts swaying. We were gone with the change of the light, and she kept driving until we turned into a drive in the winding roads of the Hills neighborhood, much more expensive than my own.

The house was set back in the trees, a modern box of gray cedar and large windows with balconies and decks. She parked on the curved drive at the front door and turned to me, with her gloved hand cupping my left breast. My pale cold skin was a contrast with the dark leather. 

" Remember, from here on in stop trying to think ahead and just pay attention and react, you will learn new things about yourself." She went around to open the door and lead me to the house, where I was shivering as she unlocked the green door. Inside, the stone floored hall was high with windows up above, and dark modern furnishings.

Holding my wrist lightly, she led me into a narrow corridor and stopped there. 

"Put your hands on the walls, and stay here for a moment." I was left with my arms out to both sides, standing alone wearing my skirt and heels from before, but naked from the waist up, still shivering. She disappeared into a room, and then came back without her coat. She was wearing a charcoal sweater and skirt, with tall dark boots, but it was a very fashionable upscale suburban look, not a black leather domme costume.

"You need to learn your first position, for inspection. The books always talk about kneeling, or being in some stress position, but the reality is that floors are hard on the knees and you need to be able to do this anywhere I ask, even if we are out somewhere, and it needs to be comfortable for a long time. Turn to face the wall, lean forward with your arms out." 

I shuffled to face the wall, braced my heels and leaned into the wall, with my arms out beyond shoulder width.Her hand went to my shoulder, then slid down my back and around to my side. It was warm on my bare skin. 

"This way you aren't going anywhere, and I have good access to your body. The first thing you give up in submission is privacy and control." Her hand went around to cup my breast roughly, then down to my belly to feel its embarrassing curve, and up to my lips to open them and explore my teeth. "Spread your legs wider."

I moved my legs apart a bit, as far as I could in my narrow pencil skirt. "The second thing you need to learn is to dress to allow me this access, nothing that you wear should be a problem for anyone I allow to touch you." She brought her other hand around into my field of vision, holding a large shiny pair of sewing shears. 

"From now on, all your skirts and dresses will have full A line skirts, so your legs can move freely and be seen better." With the scissors, she began at the hem and cut my skirt upwards so that it flared open, and pushed my legs wider. I was thinking about my favorite new skirt, the one I had searched for and spent more on than I intended, to have just the right look, and now it was ruined.

She cut the skirt off, and then cut through the two sides of my lace panties so they dropped away. In just a minute, I was spread naked as I stood in stockings and heels, with my expensive former clothing puddled on the floor at my feet. She inspected my body with both hands now, touching and probing everywhere as she stood behind me. I felt her hands up my legs, parting my labia,reaching between my legs with her finger tracing my slit, spreading my ass, hefting my breasts, touching my belly and armpits and the back of my neck.

"You see the point, now. Every part of you is mine to touch when I want to, here in my home or anywhere we happen to be, and I will ask you to take this inspection position every time. So, are you excited by this in spite of your training as a better girl than this?" Her fingers explored my hardening nipples, and slid into my vagina to touch my clit and check my wetness. I was wet, breathing slowly, with my nipples aching.

She slid the cold steel of the scissors down my outstretched arm and her fingers trailed into the hollow of my arm pit. "Perhaps we should not allow you to shave anywhere, would that excite you as a means of control? Uncontrolled hair here under your arms and on your legs, a womanly natural bush to remind you someone else is making your choices now?" She cupped my breast and hefted it. "I could decide to transform you with some plastic surgery, maybe instead of this nice C cup I should make you a D or EE, what do you thing? Something so exaggerated it will be all anyone notices, that woman with the huge breasts? I might just decide to get you only padded bras, to have you on display in your clothing in a way that would amuse me."

"We both know a lot more about you than we did an hour ago, when you were that cool fashionable woman sipping her latte. You have not objected as you gave up control, gave up all privacy, and presented yourself to me and others as an object. You are in a submissive position, ready for more. Does that sound like the person you thought that you were? So let's be clear before we go on: this is about trading control for attention, which both of us want to do, but we are not mildly kinky lovers who will laugh and hug later. I never believe those stories about domination as seduction, who would want to allow a submissive to touch them? I have a lover, and she is not you. The power trip for me is to break you down from who you were, to the point that you allow me to make the decisions for you and to keep reminding you what a sexual being you are now. I will have you touching yourself and others, and to be used by others in ways that I think you need. If you leave now, all this hour of excitement has cost you is your fine clothes, I know you'll want me to keep the silver cuff and the silk blouse for myself. If you stay, all you have is reduction to your lowest level."

I leaned on the wall, feeling her hands running over me, taking away my areas of privacy. I spread my legs wider and stayed where I was. "Ok then, we know where we are now. Sit on the floor, with your back against the wall, legs out wide and use your hands to present your breasts. Mouth open, too." The stone floor was cold as I sat on it, and the rough plaster of the wall pricked my back. I was holding my breasts and watching as she took the picture, not smiling but with my mouth wide open.

"This will be your Day One class photo, I'll send it to you so you can study it. Remember how this felt, to give up your privacy and offer body to me and anyone who sees this." She showed me the photo on her phone, and I could see the way my high heels and legs in dark stockings framed and emphasized my naked center.

I thought there would be more now, and I was surprised when she stepped away for a few minutes and came back carrying some clothing. She had changed from her sweater to my gray silk blouse, and she was wearing my Tiffany silver cuff on her wrist now. "Stand up now, sub, and I will take you back to pick up my car, I have a full afternoon today. We'll get you some proper outfits later, just wear these for now." She handed me a bra, and a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. I saw that the bra was my own, the cream lace Wacoal imported one that had cost much more than I had ever paid for one before; she had used the scissors to roughly cut away the center of the cups, so that my nipples would be exposed. The stained old shirt was cropped off to expose my belly, and the running shorts were sizes too small. When I had dressed, I saw in the hall mirror I looked like a whore in a 30 year old movie, wearing heels and stockings with small shorts and a belly shirt. She, of course, looked fashionable and sophisticated, which was the point. I knew what I was now.

3

She didn't call me for days, as I studied the photo in her email and remembered the loaned clothing tucked deep in the back of one my drawers. I heard my phone chime and saw her name on the display. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Good girl, you remember your place. I think to begin your training we need to get you the right things to wear. I will pick you up at the coffee shop where we met before, bring your credit card, your tallest high heeled shoes, and do not wear more than two pieces of clothing plus a coat. Be there in an hour."

I checked my watch, and then looked at my closet. Two pieces of clothing: skirt and blouse? Dress and panties? There were not a lot of choices. I settled on a dark print button front dress, something I had worn before to the office, and a new pair of black bikini panties. I slipped on the tall black patent heels and a raincoat as I went out the door, feeling my loose breasts moving under the dress, something I was not used to at all. 

When she picked me up at the curb, I slid into her dark car with its leather seats.

She drove me to a small store I had never noticed, in a building set off by itself along a street of professional offices and small apartments. I waited while she came around to open my door, and she took my arm to lead me in. It was a small women's shop with a French name I could not translate, apparently only open by appointment. A bell on the door rang as she led me in, and we walked across an Oriental rug to a small lounge, with a sofa and chairs. There were no display racks, just few mannequins with what looked like very expensive cocktail wear or brocade suits.

The two women sipping tea looked up and smiled at her, one an older woman with short gray hair and the other with glasses and a smooth blond haircut. Both of them seemed to be wearing the kind of expensive imitations of designer looks which this shop specialized in.

"So you've brought in another one, dear? You seem to have such a talent for finding these women."

"Yes Marie, I seem to attract the needy ones. I brought this one in for your evaluation, and she needs a new wardrobe. Honey, give her your gold card-I'm sure you have one." My face was red, as I looked in my purse and handed the shop owner the credit card from my wallet. She already knew me too well.

Marie smiled and stood up to take the card. "Yes, let's begin, we have another bridal party fitting upstairs now. Dear, step up on the low platform by the mirrors." I moved onto the low riser, with my back to the mirrors. She stepped closer and casually unbuttoned my dress without asking, smiling as she saw I was almost naked under it. She slipped it off me and tossed it aside, leaving me standing in heels and panties as she took pictures from all angles. "Stop holding your breath, relax, let your tummy out. We need to see your flaws so we can work around them." I sighed, and stopped holding in my stomach and keeping my chest out.

"Actually, Marie, I think this one needs her flaws pointed out and then accentuated, she is way too full of herself I think." The woman ran her hands over my body, feeling the shape of my belly and breast, pushing my thighs apart, stroking my mound in my panties then sliding them down to my ankles.

" Well, clearly, nicely shaped breasts for someone her age but small, with small nipples, a bit of a belly on her, too many donuts perhaps, wide hips shaky ass and thighs pressing together. Hardly a sexy young 20-something like you usually bring us."

"So instead of concealing her flaws, help me show them off. What do you suggest?" I had to stand naked, reflected in all the mirrors, as the three women looked me over and ignored my blushing.

"I think we accentuate her curves; a padded bra will remind her she is inadequate and you want her to show more curves, when she is dressed; small g string panties and bikini will make her belly and ass look bigger and her thighs heavier, short pleated skirts will show off her ass and look a little ridiculous on someone her age at the same time, and if we use a fitted bodice like a corset in her dresses it will keep them from being loose and comfortable and accent her new padded bras. And of course all the bras with a front closure for easy access, and dresses with front buttons all the way down."

"Sounds good, take her measurements and make up a selection of things for her, when I take her home we can collect her other clothing to donate somewhere." The shop owner went over me with a tape measure as her assistant took down the data, with her hands all over my body, touching everything as she studied my body.

"Ah, let's see, with your usual discount, it looks like $2,250 for her new clothing, shall I put it on her gold card?"

"Absolutely, and while she is here do you think she could entertain that bridal party? Has the Champagne started flowing up there?"

"I think she might be amusing for them, let me think how to dress her for a moment." I was still standing naked in heels; she handed me a tiny piece of fabric. "Put on this thong, let me give you some flowers." It was awkward and embarrassing to have to struggle into the small tight thong as they watched. She came back with a band of flowers laced together, draping it over my shoulders to hang over my breasts like a feather boa. She had a dark red lipstick, that she applied first to my mouth and then to my nipples. "Now, she looks like she could entertain them."

I turned to the mirror, to see myself as a display and looking foolish, not sultry. The decorative flowers did not cover anything, the small hot pink thong made my belly look more prominent and my ass look bigger, and the high heels left no doubt this was some sort of costume. The woman who had brought me took a leather collar and a silver chain leash out of her bag and fitted it around my neck. She took up the leash and led me to the stairs in the corner. At the top of the stairs, she slipped a rhinestone trimmed blindfold over my eyes. "I don't think these girls are ready for eye contact with a slut, yet. Just do as I tell you and learn about yourself."

She opened a door and we stepped out into a flurry of voices, laughing young women here to get their bridesmaids dresses it seemed. "Madame Marie sent you some entertainment, use her as you like." I felt a tug on my collar as she pulled the leash sharply, and I followed her into the room. I felt a thick carpet, like the one downstairs, and their voices faded as they turned to look at me and then to laugh. I was almost naked, in heels and thong and flowers, collared leashed and blindfolded. I felt my nipples harden and the embarrassing dampness between my legs.




Breaking Down a Professional Woman



"This is, well, just call her S. She is very obedient but still needs more training I'm afraid." 

She pushed me forward, and then down to my knees on the carpet, close to one of the younger women. "S, this is the lucky bride, show her some appreciation." I waited a beat, and then leaned forward and found her leg as she sat in the big chair. I kissed down to her feet and felt my lips on her skin. There was a tug on the leash, and I kissed and licked up her legs and leaned between her thighs. All the girls were talking and laughing as I kissed her panties and felt someone else pull them down. My tongue was in her salty musky wetness as she moaned and opened her legs for me and the others laughed. The leash pulled tighter and I licked her faster, tracing her lips and finding her hard clit. With her thighs alongside my face, I kept licking deeper and sucking until I felt the wave take her, and then I was lapping up the wetness.

A tug on my leash led me to another, and I was lost in a confusion of licking and tasting as my tongue tired and I felt the women's hands all over me, laughing and joking as they pulled at my breasts and fingered me and slapped me behind. My face was between five pairs of legs, as the bridal party shared my services and treated me like a slutty joke, not a lover. I heard the clicks of phone cameras as they used me. 

I was on my hands and knees, with my face coated in women's juices drying to a sticky mess in my hair and on my skin. I was still blindfolded but could feel my own hard exposed nipples and the dampness in my tiny thong. 

"I hope you ladies enjoyed the extra services, can we give S some of that Champagne for a job well done?" I heard the pop of the cork and the fizzing and pouring, but then she was pushing my head down. I realized my drink was being poured into a bowl on the carpet, and I had to lower my head and lap it from the bowl like an animal on the leash, with my hanging breasts grazing the floor.

Her pull on the leash had me standing up with creaking joints, as she led me out of their room and downstairs. Before taking me back to the lounge, she posed me against a wall for a photo. In the photo I was naked except for the small thong, heels, and my collar and leash, with my face and hair a mess and Champagne on my chin. My nipples were hard and red from the use they had been given. 

"I'll mail you a copy so you can remember your training. You are doing better but as I break you down you will be begging women like that to use you in more ways."

Back in the lounge, the shop owner handed back my card and the receipt, and my coat and a small bag. "Your dress and panties are in here, she wants you to go home as you are, in just the thong and heels. I will send everything over to her when it comes in." I was led to her car, shivering in so little clothing, and curled against the door of the car when it stopped at my car near the coffee shop.

"When you get home, stay like this until the morning, just wearing the wet thong, and see yourself in your own mirrors like you are now." She kissed me quickly as she opened the door.

4

I didn't hear from her for a week or more after that, until early on a Saturday I heard the doorbell ringing. I was surprised to see her at my home, and fumbled with the lock to open the door. She was wearing her long dark winter coat, and dragging a large antique trunk and shopping bags with her. "Time for the next step in your training, here, take these." She handed me the bags, and pulled the old trunk into my living room.

"OK, first things first, get those clothes off."

I was wearing the long sleep tee and panties I had worn to bed; I pulled them off and stood naked in my home, brushing my hair back and trying to wake up, She had her back to me, busy unlocking the big trunk. 

"Go empty your closet and your drawers, bring everything here and put it in this trunk. Dresses, skirts, blouses, pants, lingerie, sweats, whatever you have, bring it here now. If I find you held anything back I will need to punish you later, and I am keeping time here, GO." 

I had to process this new idea, but then I was trotting naked with armloads of my clothing, to dump it by the trunk as she packed it away.

"Inspection position, now." I stood by the wall and leaned forward, naked and braced on my hands with legs wide. I waited then felt her standing close behind me, with her hands running over all of my skin, from my hair down my back and my legs, around in front of me to cup my breasts and belly and mound, between my legs to check my state of wetness. 

"All of this is mine now, you've given it to me; of course, and you can stop anytime if you just say so. But then you will never again have this level of excitement, you know that too." 

She was touching me as she chose and I said nothing. She left me by the wall, and then came back with her shopping bags. "Here are your new things from Marie's shop, the ones you've already paid for. From now on, you only wear what I select for you, though of course I'm making you pay for them, which seems only fair. Put these away, then put on a pair of the new panties and some heels, but nothing else, and come back here." 

I took the bundles into the bedroom to sort them out: new minimal g-string panties and heavily padded bras, all in a burgundy color, thigh high stockings, very short pleated skirts, low cut blouses, a few dresses with low cut tops and short skirts. There was nothing casual or sporting, no comfortable sleep tees or wraps. When I put on the panties, they were a size too small and curved below my belly.

When I came back into my living room in the heels and panties, she had sorted out a few coats and was tossing my personal photos and belongings into the trunk with all my regular clothes. She latched the large trunk, but instead of a lock she sealed it only with a plastic strip. "I want you to see that you are collaborating in my making you over, there is no padlock here, so you have to choose to go along with this new you we are creating."

"Now, before I go, inspection position once again." I was leaning against my wall, in heels and panties, while she looked through the other rooms, then without saying more went out into the hall. Time ticked by, and I knew my only choice was to stay in position. I heard the door open, and was surprised to hear voices. "...really appreciate you taking this on at short notice, I am so glad we met last week, let me just show you where everything is."

"Well, it was an unusual opportunity but I hope I can help." The new voice was a woman, younger it seemed with a Southern sort of accent.

"OK, well, this is S, we just got her new things put away. This is her inspection position, just tell her when you need it. You can touch her if you want, I don't care and she has nothing to say about it." 

I sensed the new woman move closer and then felt her cool fingertips trace down my back and my thigh, and her longer nails. "S, just turn around and stand by the wall."

When I turned, my face was hot with embarrassment and my nipples had hardened. The new woman, I saw with shock, was someone who lived in my building. We didn't know one another, but I had seen her from time to time at the mailboxes or in the parking lot. She was about ten years younger than me, a tall slender woman with short gray blond hair and an academic kind of look. She was laughing now, looking me over frankly, studying my exposed body.

"I found Sabrina here to be your caretaker, to help me out. You are going to be paying her $100 a week to start out, I already arranged it from your bank account. She has the extra key, and you'll see I already removed the chain bolt on your door, so she can come and go any time. You will have more rules and tasks in this new life, and I have asked Sabrina to be sure you are doing what I ask. For example, when you are at home I want you just like this, in panties and heels but topless, even if you are just working or cooking or cleaning or watching TV, because I want you to be thinking all the time of how you are putting yourself on display and ready for use anytime. You will probably have to dial your heat up the winter. On the other hand, when you go out you will wear these panties and the new clothes, as another reminder of what you are becoming. Sabrina is in apartment 4B, so I want you to go and see her and have her verify you are properly dressed, every time. She will drop in other times to see if you are following the rules, and once I have you start the web chat service, she will supervise that for me. Sabrina, go ahead and touch her, to get used to it."

The new woman stepped forward and watched my eyes as she stroked my side, the held my breast to feel its weight and fullness. She kept holding it, with her eyes on mine, until she saw my embarrassment and my obvious arousal too. She snapped a finger nail sharply against the nipple and watched as I absorbed the sharp small pain. "I think that S here and I will get along fine." She was laughing.

5

On the next Monday, I got dressed for work for the first time, in my new outfits. The g-string panties seemed symbolic but not useful, and my new bras were thickly padded to increase my 36c natural look to something more like a E cup, exaggerated and attention getting in a foolish way. The dress buttoned up the front and was shaped to be close to my body and flared out with the increased bust, and with a full skirt for easy access. I gathered up my purse and briefcase, glanced at my watch, then went down to apartment 4B. Sabrina answered the door, wearing casual at-home clothes, and had to laugh at my new look.

"Well S, she has certainly put you on a new road. Lift your skirt and show me." I was standing in the hall, waiting to be invited in, and I saw she did not intend that. My face was hot and red as I lifted the hem of the dress to my waist. I was wearing dark thigh-high stockings and the tiny g string, and as instructed I was no longer allowed to shave myself anywhere. My dark natural bush of hair curled around the g string, and the stubble on my legs was only partly hidden by the stockings.

"You are doing well so far, I may come by to check on you this evening, so be sure to follow her rules on how to dress. She also told me to ask for your watch." 

I was puzzled but unfastened the Rolex. "She wants me to wear that one while I am supervising you, so she gave me this one for you." I handed over the expensive watch I felt so good about, and she tossed me a pink plastic Hello Kitty girl's watch. "You can explain this as part of your new style, when you tell everyone why you are suddenly dressing so differently. Have a great day at work!" 

She swung the door closed as I rearranged my dress. When I saw myself in the reflection of the lobby glass, I was someone new- very high heels, short wide skirt, fitted bodice and padded bust, someone who could no longer just slide into the background. All day at work, I had to deal with people's surprised looks, at my newly exaggerated figure and shorter skirt and higher heels, and their feeling that there was something different now in my presence. 

When I got home, I spent my first evening in the new way, hanging up the dress as soon as I got home and reducing my clothing to just the panties and heels. I tried to do normal things, cooking a simple grilled chicken breast, making a salad, trying to concentrate on the TV news, but every glance in a mirror or a window showed me the look of a slut, and even with the heat turned up I was shivering.

The next morning, when I rang the bell at 4B, Sabrina opened the door to invite me in. Her apartment was pleasant and filled with books and plants and comfortable furniture. "Skirt up, S." I lifted my pleated skirt, to show I wore only the tiny g string." OK, put it down, but wait; I realized yesterday what else you needed." She stepped into the other room and came back holding one palm out flat. "Tits out now, S." My face went red as I slipped off my coat and opened my blouse and bra, to display my breasts for her. When she stepped closer, I saw her hand was holding two glass marbles, and a roll of surgical tape.

"This will accent your look, hold still." 

She was taping the marbles over my nipples, with the thin tape forming an X over my breast. She refastened my padded bra over them, and buttoned my blouse. Now the hard marbles poked out the bra and blouse, giving me the look of cartoonishly hard nipples to display today. I realized that my important staff meeting presentation today would be forgotten as the men and women saw only my large padded breasts and hard nipples. Once again she and my mistress had taken me down a notch.

6

When I got home from work, my apartment door was open. Sabrina was waiting for me, smiling to see my in short skirt with apparently rock-hard nipples. There was a new rolling garment rack in my living room, with my new clothes on it. "She asked me to help set up your apartment, and the two guys helping me just left. Go ahead, just take off your clothes now like she told you to." I took off everything except the g string and heels, and she hung the items on the rack. 

"This slut slave look really suits you" she laughed. I saw that the new bras and panties were now stacked on the shelves in the living room, where my books used to be. "OK, all the things you won't be needing any more as long as you serve her, we sealed in your guest room, take a look around." 

I saw that the bedroom and bathroom doors had been removed, and the closets and the back guest room doors taped closed. In the bathroom, the toilet seat and shower curtain were gone, and the big towels too. There was only a roll of paper towels to dry myself, and I would have to sit directly on the cold porcelain to use the toilet, exposed to view from the hallway.

In the bedroom, my large bed had been turned into a fake bed, with a sheet of plywood covered in pink satin sheets, and there were new spotlights and a webcam on a tripod. "This is the set for your new webcam show, 'Doll Slave', and so you will sleep on the sofa now. I saw that the fake bed had loops of rope for my ankles, so that I would appear to be tied with my legs spread, and a tray of sex toys and fake handcuffs. 

"I have to get home, but I promised her I would feed you dinner before I go, come into the kitchen."

I followed her, in the now-overheated apartment, with my breasts swaying and my heels clacking on the wooden floor- she had removed my Oriental rugs too. In the kitchen, she opened a drawer to show me that all of the silverware and cooking spoons had been removed and stored away. She poured cereal in a bowl and added milk, then placed it on a placemat on the kitchen floor and looked at me, waiting. 

I sighed and then got down on my hands and knees with my face in the bowl, lapping up what was now my dinner. My breasts were hanging and my nipples brushed the cold floor as I ate. "You'll want to have more for lunch from now on, she feels you need to look less chubby so dinner will be like this. The log in instructions for the web cam are in the bedroom, she said you should be on camera there at 9 pm and she will call you with instructions. We packed away your computer and the TV, and the phone of course. Bye, see you for your morning inspection."

She was gone, and I was left alone, blinking back tears as I saw my new role. I noticed my reflection in the dark glass and realized she had removed the drapes too. I would either be sitting in the dark, or on display in my panties and heels when I was home.

7

She called me just after 9 as I was trying to understand what was next, and I saw the phone speaker next to the webcam. "Good evening S, I hope you are enjoying my taking control of this new life you wanted. Remember, you can unseal the extra room and stop this anytime, but then I will never talk to you again. Sabrina is doing a great job organizing things, so now that I manage your bank account I gave her a raise to $150 a week. You also paid $500 for the guys who helped her, and I offered them each a free web chat, so they may call in later. This new web cam and Skype phone cost you $1240, I wanted you to have the HD version for a really sharp picture. I increased your credit line to cover some future costs, so you need to keep doing a great job at work. Have they commented on your new look, with the short skirts and padded tits yet?"

I walked around to sit on the bed, and felt the hard plywood under the sheets. 

"Now, S, I decided that this private humiliation you have been enjoying will not be enough for you for very long, so I set you up as a paid web chat. You're probably scared of being seen by people who know you, but I took care of that too for you. Open the drawer next to the bed." I crossed over and slid it open, to see masks. Not party eye masks, but the transparent plastic kind from costume stores, each one a woman's face with the lower chin part missing.

"Go ahead, try one on, and look in the big mirror. I slipped one on and faced the wall opposite the bed, where she had placed a large wall mirror instead of the artwork I had there. The translucent plastic had makeup printed on it, giving my face the look of a plastic doll, with my mouth and chin exposed. I was looking at a living sex doll, with a plastic face but an exposed woman's body and my mouth obviously also available for use. After not shaving for several days, my legs and underarms had dark stubble and my tangle of dark pubic hair flowed around the g string.

"Sit on the 'bed', we made it a platform you can work with, not a real bed to sink into. Sit down, put your feet in the loops." 

I crawled onto the hard bed, and fitted my feet through loops of rope and put my heels back on. "The rope loops make it look as though you are tied up with a spreader bar, which is fake of course, and the cam controls are under that pillow behind you, so you can pick up calls and switch it on. The whole thing is simple, but listen carefully. I put your "Doll Slave" name in the online directory sites, so you should start getting calls later tonight. The web service books them and connects them, and the users pay $1 per minute for basic calls plus they can pay for more nudity and little gifts. The service keeps the accounts, and you earn 50%, which goes right into your account. I will pay myself a management fee out of that, and if you want me to keep controlling your life you will need to earn at least $100 every day. We will review your scores, and I will punish you if you fall short."

"But, what do I do, what is happening now?"

"Wake up S, why do you think men, or maybe couples or women, call for web chat? They see a live picture of you on the site, sitting here, and they want to see more and control you. You need to do as they ask and try to keep them online and spending money, and if there are any complaints about your service I will have to deal with you. Put on the robe here, they like it better if you are not already naked when they start. We will have coffee again after work tomorrow, and you can tell me how all this has affected you. When you see the red light next to the mirror flashing, press the button under the pillow to take the call, and speak clearly, the microphones are over the bed. Good luck."

She was gone, and I slipped on the robe and took my place on stage. When the light flashed, I clicked the button, and realize the voice I heard was computer generated from the users' texts, there was no voice link. Whatever I said appeared on screen as a text, so I did not have a keyboard.

-what is your name Doll?

-no name sir

-take off the robe now

-you need to pay for full nude sir

-show us your tits

I opened my robe for them, and followed the requests to touch myself, use my nipples, tell them breast size, rub my breasts with a dildo. When the screen told me someone had paid more, I slipped off my robe and did as they asked, and it became a routine. Naked, legs tied wide open, using the dildo and pretending to cum quickly so they would move on and others could do the same.




Breaking Down a Professional Woman



On the monitor screen I could see I was a plastic faced doll with an older woman's body, acting out humiliating sexual poses without any real arousal except my humiliation in serving this way, and I seeing how far I had fallen.

After two hours of this, the spotlights went off on a timer and I realized I was done with the first night. I left the robe on the stage, as it was only a prop, with the mask, and went to get ready for bed. In the bathroom I had to sit on the cold porcelain, and I saw that Sabrina had taped off the hot water faucets. In the morning I would get only a cold shower, and the paper towels. I slept on the sofa, wearing the g string and covered only by a threadbare torn piece of a blanket she had left for me. I slept dreaming of this new life.

8

When I showed up at the coffee shop after work the next day, she laughed when she saw me. Apparently Sabrina had not told her about the marbles she taped inside my bra each day, which with the padded bra, short skirt, and high heels gave me the look of a slut with hard nipples in permanent arousal. It was a long way from my cool and fashionable older woman look of a week or two earlier. We sat at a small table off to the side, and as she sipped her double espresso she reached over to slide her hand up my skirt without a word. I felt her fingers check the tops of my stockings, the bare thighs above, and the tiny g string she had chosen for me.

"You are quite amazing, S, with each new turn you respond to the humiliation and ask for more, just by not refusing and walking away." She took my cappuccino for a taste, then spit in the cup and handed it back to me and smiled as I sipped it. "You did well for your first night, the web site reports you were ranked # 87 out of the 200 women they had chatting, perhaps you can improve on that. You earned $224 as your split of the fees they paid, which after deducting my management fee leaves you with...$24. How does it feel now, to be you? Is this the excitement you wanted?"

I thought about how to answer this. I had given up my privacy at all levels, and I had done everything a good girl and a professional woman would never do, allowing myself to be touched and displayed and made to do things, and to pay for my own degradation. I was wearing clothing that advertised my sexual nature now, with a short tight dress and heavily padded bra I would never have chosen for myself. I was living like a guest in my own home, I had become a masked regular on a web chat site, and this morning after eating from a bowl on the floor I had allowed a neighbor I was paying to check my private parts for proper grooming and clothing.

"I know this seems crazy to say, but this is the most exciting time in my life, ever, and finding this side of myself is actually empowering somehow; it is like your control gives me the power to have these intense feelings, even as I give up everything else to your control."



Breaking Down the Law



The day began like any other for Caspar Pollock. He got up for work, fried up some eggs, blasted down the road in his truck, and made it just in time to be five minutes late. Pollock was a tall, bald man with an expansive set of tattoos and small, rather cruel eyes that seemed to narrow in on whoever was unlucky enough to cross his path. He was a heartless bully, known around his neighbourhood for a nasty criminal record, a tendency to abuse women, and a drinking habit that made him a nasty customer at any time in the evening.

Work was the usual tradesman kind of labour. He worked as a welder in an automobile line, doing some of the finer work that the bigger machines did not handle. Caspar had steady hands, steady and strong, and they seemed immune to any heat and any strain, so that he rarely took his unpaid break through the course of his nine-hour shift. At the end of each day, he was sweaty but far from exhausted. Usually he would prowl the streets as though looking for trouble. Often he found it.

He joked with his workers, from time to time. They often told stories about the beautiful women they had intimidated into sex. Not one of them admitted to having intimate, loving sex; and between the lot of the blue-collar men, none of them cared for this kind of attachment. Each knew what they liked, and found their way to get it. For Jacques, it was seductive words and hooded eyes. For Freddy, it was a look of elegance and decency -- that collapsed as soon as his prey was in his arms. For Caspar, as often as not it was rape. Once he had been jailed for a time, until the woman refused to testify and the charges were dropped -- though not before a trial had been gone through, even in the absence of the woman's testimony.

At the end of this sunny Wednesday, Caspar found himself stuck in traffic on the way home. The heat was beginning to rise degree by cruel degree, until the interior of his truck was beginning to almost bake him. He was stuck in the middle of a busy roadway, flies buzzing around his head -- Caspar occasionally pulverised these with an idle, meaty hand -- and the radio screaming out his favourite heavy metal songs. His truck was caked with mud, on the front, the sides and even over the license plate. It seemed to steam like some infernal engine, overheating in the sun.

Growing fed up with all the blistering heat and the annoyance of the conditions, he threw open the door of the truck and stepped out, looking for somewhere to shoot up on heroine. Glancing around, he barely bothered to obscure the tube hanging from his pocket as he sauntered over to an area overgrown with trees by the side of the road. He did glance around a little, but seeing no police, he was not concerned. He vanished into the trees.

Meanwhile, May Frost, an elderly woman of conservative background and timid but insistent demeanour, watched in fury from her car. SHE knew what was going on, and her small, fierce little eagle's eyes watched from her tiny car, as the long-legged working fellow vanished into the trees. Youth these days! Shooting up and getting drunk -- probably beating their wives -- May knew, and judged, and smouldered. Her own car smelled strongly of pine, filled with air fresheners, and she looked around for someone to help her out. She almost dialed the police using her antique, oversized cell phone. But she froze as the phone reached her ear. Someone was coming down the road -- looked like a cop. She pulled open her door and stepped out. 

The traffic was back-to-back, bumper-to-bumper, and an occasional car honked as the day steamed on. The sun was sending them all slightly mad. A few sighs of relief emerged as the cop car pulled closer.

Constable Heather Westfield was a fresh recruit, straight out of police school. Being something of a looker, a rather cute blonde with short hair in a bun, and cool, collected blue eyes, she was the heartthrob of the academy. That she was relatively inexperienced in sex hardly seemed to matter, as she wore her uniform with a special pride that imbued her with womanly charm, and a strange grace. She was like an angel trapped in the clothes of a mortal. A little overheated, she had cranked down her window. Today, she was riding alone for her first time without a partner, for the heat had given her usual partner Michael a spat of migraines once again. Heather felt confident that the few hours she would be alone, should be fine. She had been dispatched, in this case, just to deal with a traffic backup, to nip any road rage issues in the bud.

Exiting the squad car, she stretched her short legs, pulling her arms over her head to stretch for a second, before remembering herself. Glancing around, there was no sign of hostility from anybody, save an occasional honk. She looked around for anyone in distress, and May took her by surprise from one side, a bundle of nervous elderly energy.

"Hey there! Hey there, officer! I have news for you, I have news...the man from that truck, he went off down into the trees there. Yes, into the ravine. No, you can't see him from here. But trust me! Trust me. He was there, and he had one of those -- you know, those drug tubes. He meant it, officer. Believe you me, he meant to use it. He's probably shooting up even as we speak!"

Heather paused. It was against procedure to rush off into the trees alone, but there was no reason to think the man was armed. And if he was doing heroine, he would not be paying attention to who was sneaking up behind. She had her gun and nightstick. She was hardly concerned. She shrugged. "Well, policy is..."

"Never mind policy, officer! Never mind that! C'mon now, he's just a big bully I expect, all muscle and no action. Probably will pee his pants when he sees a police officer with the cuffs and all." May squinted at Heather awfully, almost threateningly, and suddenly Heather knew that if she did not act, there would be some stupid report against her, some needless paperwork to fill out. Well -- it was only meters from the roadside. What was the worst that could happen?

Westfield scratched at her forehead where a mosquito had bitten her. Under the blonde bangs that had snuck out from her hair bun, her eyes were still calm, but a little annoyed. "Alright, alright. Just please get back in your car. Traffic isn't moving anyway, I guess it'd be a while until help could arrive. And in the meanwhile..."

Suddenly, she was a little excited. She was really going to catch her first 'bad guy', and even red-handed if she was lucky. She headed down towards the trees, away from the noise. The young female officer was surprised by how quickly the road noise vanished behind her as the first couple of trees flanked in around her. Rising up in deadly crescent, they seemed to engulf her rapidly. There was no sign of a man down here. Heather was inclined to rather doubt the story. Her head swiveled. Left -- right -- then she saw something. It looked like a towel.

This was a little odd. Heather crept towards it, her lean body leaning forward like a hunter stalking its prey. Where was the man who had left it here? Or was this just coincidence? She crept closer. Suddenly, she saw a tall, bulky shape in her peripheral vision. Turning quickly, she almost saw who was there -- before something struck her on the side of the head, and she fell...

***

Heather came back around as something slapped against her face. The constable blinked, coughed roughly, and tried to stand, only to find this surprisingly difficult. Her arms were behind her, and despite her struggles, they remained there, fastened somehow. Her handcuffs...? Yes, it was them alright, jingling behind her stubbornly. Her wrists were forced roughly behind her back, in a harsh position. Again, she was slapped. This time, the source was more obvious: a rough, hairy arm was angling in from behind her, and contacting her face to rouse her.

She tried to bark out that she was a policewoman, and that he should rethink assaulting her like this -- but no words came out. Something filled her mouth, leaving it dry and feeling stuffed. It was some kind of rag, tasting of dirt and salt. She spluttered against it quickly, but found her mouth too full-up to even moan properly. 

The constable's head spun. This was all wrong, terribly wrong. How was this not working out for her? Where was her gun?! That last point could not be certain, but her holster felt light; or maybe that was just her imagination?

Behind her, Caspar looked down with cold eyes at the woman. Well. She hadn't seen his face before he had struck -- that much was almost certain. Come to think of it, his truck was dirty enough that she probably lacked his license plate. And now she was good and helpless. A job well done. He squinted up at the road. There was still plenty of traffic. Thinking it over, he realized he had at least fifteen, twenty minutes to kill; maybe more. There was no risk down here. He could stake it out, careful not to let the idiot policewoman see his face. Thinking more carefully, he pulled off his shirt, folding it with surprising dexterity before wrapping it around the top half of her face. She was effectively blinded by it. Caspar grunted in satisfaction. 

Shirtless and tattooed, he stood in the wooded copse, naked from the waist. Below him, the woman looked adorable in her uniform; neat, tidy and prim. Probably a little prude, he thought idly. Probably never put out. This gave him an idea. Something to kill time, and mess with her psychology a little. The thought of terrifying this young officer gave him a certain thrill. His experiences with the police had not been positive ones. 

Drawing out a knife he carried in his pocket, he knelt down behind her, squeezing her legs between his own strong thighs. This stopped her from kicking back at him. With the knife, he traced a line along the crack of her buttocks over her uniform trousers. She writhed violently against this, but it seemed to be ineffectual in throwing off the weight on her legs.

Blinded and gagged, she felt confused and disoriented. What was he doing? Was he really going to try anything -- sexual? Her face flushed and burned in anxiety and fear. Her whole body felt flooded with nervous energy and terror. The knife poked more insistently, winding down between her legs to her cleft...she shuddered at the damage he could do to her down there, if he pleased it. WHO WAS THIS PSYCHO? She tried to scream, but the gag was effective at silencing her. Her arms strained uselessly at the cuffs, as though trying to squeeze her wrists out through the chains. 

There was a muffled, dry bout of laughter from behind, and strong hands grabbed her thighs, pulling them apart as a hand reached between her legs to her stomach, tugging at the button, then the zipper of her trousers. Her pants were forced down rapidly, leaving her only in the silk panties she was wearing today. Every Wednesday, she treated herself to a masturbation session at home after work, and she wore silk panties through the day because they felt sexy, and had her worked up by the time she got home. Even now, moisture still clung to the panties. They were not quite a thong, but rather closely rode up her backside, leaving her cheeks mostly exposed to the air now.

The horror of the situation -- her ass exposed to a complete stranger, gave rise to a growing, stifled scream in her throat. Heather kicked hard, but her legs were crushed against the earth by her attacker. 

Caspar smiled lustfully at the flesh laid out before his eyes. So smooth, so spotless and hairless...he just loved a woman's ass. Grinning, he began to smack each cheek in turn, spanking the poor, half-naked officer with the palm of his hand. A satisfying crack accompanied each strike. The cop had a wonderfully tough tush, firm and almost hard. He spanked harder and harder, until her cheeks shone red, and he grinned at the sight, leaning in to lick at her buttocks soothingly. She writhed under him in hate and fear, disgust flooding into her head. 

Heather felt terrified as the touching stopped. He was just a dead weight on her legs. Then...

...her panties were ripped away, with the aid of the knife. And she heard a bloodchilling sound. Another zipper.

She fought and tugged and kicked as much as possible, but every effort was neutralized by her attacker. He was all over her now, stroking her thighs, smacking her buttocks, and then suddenly he caught her clitoris between his fingers, and she froze up entirely, the fear of what he might do stopping Heather in her tracks.

"Got yer attention, do I, constable? Okay. Your choice. Your cunt or your mouth. You bite, this knife turns your throat into ribbons."

Heather didn't know what to say. Nor how to say it.

"Ah, hell. The gag. Well..." Caspar slipped a single finger into her pussy opening, an inch or two at the most. "...squeeze once for your mouth, twice for your cunt."

Heather despised herself for acknowledging him at all, but eventually her fear of being forcibly fucked drove her to respond. She squeezed her vaginal muscles once for yes, head hanging in shame.

"Alright then, copper. But you'd better make this good. And smile for me while you do it." This was a strange request, Heather thought, but it was all part of the humiliation she assumed. 

She welcomed the removal of the gag. "Please stop this," she whispered, knowing that he would kill her if she screamed for help. "Please, just let me go. You win, okay. And all my money...hell, have my gun. But don't make me do this."

Caspar chuckled at her pleading words, but stopped laughing when the garment on her head almost slid off. "Bitch!" he yelled, backhanding her on the face with a fling of his hand. As she fell, he pounced on her again, wrapping a cloth around her eyes so that it was secure and left her mouth unobstructed. He reached down, dragging her up to her knees.

"There you go, officer. On your knees, like the little cocksucker you are. Probably busted up my boys at some point, didn't you? Enjoyed that?"

Heather was confused. "No, no, I'm a new police officer, I've never...I've never arrested anyone, let alone anyone you know...please, just stop this -- "

Caspar could think of nothing witty to say. She sort of had a point. Not that he cared for morality or anything. "What's your name, bitch?"

Heather mumbled: "constable...I'm Heather Westfield. Westfield." Caspar listened attentively. "Westfield," he repeated carefully, as though keeping this in mind. Covertly, he opened her wallet, left in her trousers, and rifled through it while she kneeled, mouth dry and clamped shut. Caspar's own mouth nearly dropped when he saw that she had some five-hundred dollars in cash on her. But he left it. He didn't want her to know what he was learning. He memorised her address, confirmed that she was telling the truth with her name, and admired her picture. It was a little hard to get a sense of her face with the blindfold on.

He liked blondes, though, and now he knew -- from the modest patch of carpet that he'd seen -- that she was a natural, it filled him with hunger. His erection was beginning to push against his jeans. He lowered them, and a huge tent was pitched in his boxers. Replacing her wallet, he shuffled towards her, then grabbed her hair and thrust her face against his pelvis. "What do you smell, Heather?"

She was almost crying now. "I don't -- please don't -- "

"I said what do you smell, whore? Tell me or I swear to God -- "

Heather broke down. "Your penis...I smell your penis..."

"My cock. It's my cock you smell. Now lick it, sniff it, get ready for it. Got that, my little slut?"

Heather's mind was spinning. She was a policewoman, not some streetwalker. How was this happening? Nevertheless, she complied. She had given head before, and the smell set off something in her that was undeniable, much as tried to ignore it. She licked reluctantly at the cloth, feeling the swelling erection contained within. Reasoning that she might as well get it over with, she licked harder, with broad strokes of her tongue.

"Keep smiling while you do it. Then pull down the boxers with your mouth."

She had little choice about that, anyway, with her hands cuffed behind her back. Heather smiled as much as she could, and it seemed weirdly natural to Caspar. He drew out his cellphone, and started filming her silently with one hand, while the other stroked her cheek. "Oh, Heather, that's sooooo good," he whispered with a quiet laugh. "I love how you're so kinky."

Heather did not know what was going on, and feared contradicting her tormentor, so she said nothing, but smiled up towards him painfully, the smile hurting every bit of her but seeming genuine enough. Her teeth slipped around the elastic of his boxers, and drew down, grazing past his erection as it flopped out at her, striking her forehead. It was already wet, and left a cool mark on her brow. Her smile faded for a second, but returned when she remembered the knife.

Caspar was proud of his phone camera. It was a high-resolution beast, could shoot for a good ten minutes, and captured all the important details every time. It was small enough not to capture the knife, large enough to capture the smile -- yes, and the fine cavity of the mouth as it opened to accept him inside. Before she started, she whispered, "please..." up at him. Caspar, for the sake of the film he was making, simply said, "thank you for asking first, my slut; you may...begin."

Her lips wrapped around his cock and she slid her mouth down onto his bulging erection. It filled her mouth quickly, and she felt that it was at least seven inches long, maybe eight or nine. It was too much...far bigger than her previous boyfriend. It felt meaty and salty in her mouth, like sucking a great sausage, and the humiliation of knowing that it was some stranger's dick overwhelmed her. The worst part was the sound. She made a wet, sucking kind of vacuum sound, like she was enjoying slurping on the dick jammed in her face. Noisily she sucked at him. She continued her strategy of trying to get him to blow his load quickly so this could end.

What she didn't know what that Caspar had an incredible staying power. He could happily let his cock be blown for a half-hour without difficulty, and this little tart, gorgeous as she was, was hardly going to be an exception. The purple head, like a heavy fruit, was engulfed by the ocean of her mouth, again and again. Her mouth began to water increasingly, as though trying to dissolve away all the salt being introduced to it. Caspar made a kind of rumbling, purring sound as she worked. Now and then, he would comment, and the words stabbed her to the quick. "That's right, my little officer slut. Whatever would your cop friends think of you if they saw you now, happily gagging on my dick? No, not gagging. Speaking of that..."

He began to transform the fellatio into more of an assault for a bit, penetrating her throat with a full-on facefuck. She gagged helplessly on him as his shaft was shoved repeatedly down into her mouth and then throat. This generated far more spit than before, and his cock ended up fully drenched. "Yeah, get my dick nice and sloppy, constable. Just like that. Oh, Heather..."

She wished she had given him a fake name. Hearing it said like this was the worse part. Blindly, she kept thrusting her face upon him. "Now you do it voluntarily. Take it down your throat. Deep-throat me, slut."

Being called slut was also a terrible insult for her. She was so careful with her body, who she chose to sleep with. This was unfair, so profoundly unjust, to be raped and called a 'slut' for it. She tried to force him down her throat, but struggled at it. She wanted to bite him, and use his shock to escape. But handcuffed like this, and him with knife and possibly gun, she just could not take the risk. When would help arrive? Her base pussy was attracting a fly, its juices drawing the fly in for a taste. It hummed and buzzed between her legs, making her vulnerability all the more obvious. She shook, trying to get rid of it, and Caspar noticed.




Breaking Down the Law



"Let it be. I want it to tickle your pretty pussy while you slurp on my dick like a nice big Popsicle. Go, slut! Continue."

The fly was indeed a torment, as it landed on her splayed-open vagina, tickling her with its minute adjustments. On some weird level, however, it was stimulating her, tickling her clitoris and providing a constant reminder of how bare her lower half was. 

Apparently, her rush strategy was failing. She felt her prized uniform being torn from her upper body too, and moaned around his cock while this happened, trying to object. He was rough, bursting buttons and tearing cloth at a few points. "Don't talk with your mouth full, my cop whore," he complained. He was using up too much camera time, and pocketed it for now. Her bra-encased tits sprang free, and he sighed, feeling them up, bouncing them in his hands while she continued to suckle him. "Are these little nipples hard for me?" he asked in a singsong voice, taunting her. She didn't respond. She hated talking 'with her mouth full', especially with it full of a stranger's erection; it was the ultimate indignity.

Ripping the bra off too, left the young policewoman completely naked amidst the trees. Another fly buzzed down, landing on her back and crawling around there. She moaned in misery, feeling the two insects toying with her body even as this strange drug-user molested and raped her mouth...or rather, made her rape herself on his dick. Heather found herself having to raise up off her knees a little to reach his dick when it slipped from her mouth, and this made her breasts bounce a little each time. Her tough, wiry young body, naked as the day she was born, was revealed to the whole world, her uniform cast apart in pieces and scraps around her. Her humiliation was nearly complete, thought Caspar -- for this day, at least. But he definitely wanted her to drink his cum. Nevertheless, to make things worse for the buxom young cop, she offered her the choice. "When I blow, bitch, you can either guzzle it down, or take my batter all over your face. Up to you."

Already naked, Constable Westfield contemplated with dread the idea of walking back to her car with uniform torn (or stolen, depending on his food) and her face crusted over with dry cum. She chose to swallow, hating the thought of his fluids being inside her. She told him so, when her mouth was free. Caspar considered making her beg, but thought better of it. Better to leave some degeneration for later. He grabbed her nipples, one per hand, and squeezed firmly, making her squeal around his thick tool as it dribbled with her own saliva.

Feeling his balls tighten, Caspar drew out the camera again. He let it rake over this fine white woman's athletic body, let it take in her frantic sucking and the beauty of the blowjob she was reluctantly providing. He slapped her tit with his spare hand, watching it bounce and knowing he would love showing this to his friends later. Her tight lips glided up and down the long tool, the whole thing shining with her spit as though she were polishing his knob with her drool. And seeing a cop do this...was so hilarious, and so delicious that Caspar felt like giggling like a small child. 

He wanted to see her eyes, though.

Heather felt her head bobbing rhythmically along the strange phallus, in time with her own heart's beating. His request for her to choose to swallow or not clued her in that this encounter was about to end -- after twenty minutes of furious blowing. She had never been so embarrassed or dehumanised in her life. All was blackness, and the taste of cock in her mouth, and occasional choking as it pushed into her throat. The knowledge she was giving him pleasure, overwhelming pleasure in exchange for her capture and rape -- was horrendous.

Suddenly, she could see again. Blinding, painful -- she could see a little. She saw something shining in the sun, as she glanced up in pain, mouth still garishly grinning whenever her lips were free from their busy work. Was it some kind of electronic...was it a cell phone? A CAMERA? She objected noisily, and pulled away and off of him -- or so she intended. Heather's face was impaled by a strong hand on the back of her head, and she was forced to deep-throat the foreign cock once more. Hot jizz pumped into her throat as the cloth was thrown back over her face again, before she saw anything more than rough details of a face through the blinding sun and the epiphany of this being filmed. It fired again and again into her throat, and she felt like she was drowning in his cum, but she swallowed dutifully, afraid of choking. Nevertheless, she choked a fair amount. Her breasts swung freely with the uniform almost entirely sliced off her torso, and the flies dislodged at last as she writhed on his dick, impaled by the throat. As she pulled back, he had more cum to spare, and her lips were coated with it, though at least her face was spared the cum treatment. "Clean me", he commanded briskly, and she did, lapping at the shrinking but messy dick. This was the worst part by far, knowing he was being cleaned up by her small, delicate tongue. She heard footsteps crackling through the grass and her handcuffs popping off at last. The steps headed away.

Caspar's parting words to her were "catch you later. Keep this a secret, and the film stays with me. I think I know what Mr. and Mrs. Westfield will think of this little film of mine. Think about it...it'll look beautiful once it's edited. As I said -- catch you later..."

Heather, hardly heeding what he said, curled into a ball, wrapping her freed arms around herself. She already knew she would keep this a secret, a dreadful secret, simply hoping nothing worse would come of it. She coughed up cum onto the soil, but knew that most of it was already inside of her, a part of her now. She cursed his name into the dirt, knowing he was gone and would not hear. Still...she had to admit, she was still somewhat wet. When she was quite certain he was gone, and she was alone, one finger grazed over her wet pussy. Teasing...beginning to...



Breaking Down Walls



I was walking down the dimly lit street, confident in my ability to take care of myself if trouble should come looking for me. I know i was asking for it as much as it was looking for me. I smile to myself and flip my long blond hair over my delicate shoulders. The little black dress, chosen by my friend Sarah, hugged my soft rounded curves lovingly, like a lover hugging their mate. The color contrasting with my pale skin dramatically, my skin practically glowing.

As i approach the club, i swear i hear running footsteps approaching. Suddenly, a gloved hand covers my mouth from behind before i can even scream. He pulls me deep into a dark alley, shoving my face down into the filth when he finally stops. I try to break free but this trouble is even to much for me. I feel his hand rip my dress, tearing my panties off with one yank. Tears begin to spill from my terrified eyes as he painfully shoves three fingers up my dry pussy. Over my weeping, i hear him grunt painfully. His massive weight is suddenly gone. I scramble to my feet, looking around half crazed.

The man standing over my attacker does not look like any kind of guardian angel. He stands about 6'3, his dark hair shaved close to his head, dark eyes peering cautiously back at me. He is wearing a tight black tank top, baggy faded jeans, and a dangerous looking pair of black boots. He's holding out a long leather coat towards her.

"Are you hurt?" his gruff voice piercing my clouded thoughts. 

"Uh, no, I don't think so," I say, carefully wrapping the coat around me, "just a little bruised."

He nods and turns to disappear back into the shadows, I reach for him quickly, grasping his arm, "Who are you?" I sob.

He turns back to me and looks deep into my eyes, "I'm blade." he whispers. 

I gasp in shock, it can't be the same blade I've heard about. He pulls away and disappears into the night. "Come back!" I cry out into the shadows. 

My eyes glaze over as the shock finally settles over me, i stumble back to the main street. Flagging down a cab, I climb in and tell the driver my address.

As soon as the taxi stops, i bolt into my apartment and collapse. The angry tears pour from me, deep sobs shaking my body. The last coherent thought in my mind is of Blade as i slip quickly into an exhausted sleep.

The nex t morning I wake up on the floor. Standing up to stretch my sore muscles, i head straight to the trash can to dispose of the nasty reminders of last nights attack. Except for the soft leather duster Blade had given me. Clutching it like a security blanket, my mind spins wildly trying to make sense of last night. She definitely knows the name Blade. But he's the head of the most powerful street gang in the city, the black scorpions. Not the caring man who saved me last night. His reputation painted him as a criminal, a dangerous man. But last night, Blade had protected me, far from dangerous in my book. 

I finally decide to try to find him, using the excuse of returning his coat to justify my decision. I rush through a luke warm shower,pulling on some jeans and a fitted tank top as soon as I had toweled off. I slide my black boots on quickly and grab my keys as i head out.

I head to the local library directly, planning to search the local papers and public records for anything to do with Blade. With any luck, I'll know where to start looking for him by tonight. 

I spend all damn day looking through the papers published within the last two years for any mention of him. Just as I'm about to give up when a headline grabs my attention. "The back story of Blade: Trent De Marco becomes Blade." My eyes fill with tears as I read the article detailing the childhood of Trent, her savior. 

He had been abandoned as an infant, his parents had traded him for drugs. He had only been discovered by chance, the drug dealer had been killed, the target of a drive-by shooting. As he grew, he was bounced from one foster home to the next, never understanding the meaning of family. The interviews with the former families depicted him as an evil child, yet the case workers that had handled his case blamed the families. Stating that they had never gave him a chance, never showed him any love. I silently made a vow right then. I am going to find him, I am going to show him what real love is. He saved my life, now I can save his heart. Gathering the notes I had taken, I rushed to my car. 

As I climb in my car, I notice a black envelope on my passenger seat. Opening it quickly, I'm eager to see what it contains. I grasp a folded piece of paper, unfolding it. My face lights up with a huge smile. Its from Trent! His sprawling cursive politely asking me to meet him on the corner of 10th and Liberty at ten tonight. I can't believe my luck, I think to myself. Starting my car and heading home to nap.

******* 

Its 9:45 pm and I'm nearing the intersection of 10th Ave and Liberty Ave. Driving slowly, I search the area in case he has showed up early. I slam on my brakes, screaming when a hand taps on my window. I whip my head around and my eyes lock onto Trents dark eyes. I smile up at him softly, noticing how sexy his full lips are when he smiles back. I motion for him to get in. 

"Hi Trent. My names Kara. I'm so glad you wanted to meet. I need to talk to you." my voice raw with emotion, watching him settle into her car, His dark gaze studies me for a long moment, softly whispering, "You know how to get to Trinity cliffs?" 

I nod, "If you'd like, we can go there and talk with no interruptions." he says, staring out the passenger window.

I drive silently, taking quick peeks at him. The grey tank top he's wearing is snug, showcasing his muscled chest and abs. His bronzed skin intricately decorated with body art. 

"Damn," i think to myself, "he is so incredibly sexy." My stomach flutters wildly with lust, my aching nipples push against the taut fabric of my shirt. A soft moan escapes my lips before i can stop it. Cringing inwardly, knowing he heard cause he was looking at her intently.

Trent smiles and kinda chuckles, seeing her blush a lovely shade of pink. He wonders if her whole body flushes to that color when she cums. His cock jumps rapidly as he imagines her naked body writhing beneath his as he thrusts his cock deep and hard into her tight pussy. Her long legs wrapped around him as he pumps harder and faster. They reach climax together, his cum filling her pussy as her cum covers his probing cock. He shakes his head, coming back to reality. The front of his jeans were painfully tight. His cock was as hard as a rock. He hopes she doesn't notice.

I pull into the empty parking lot, getting out quickly. The huge bulge in his jeans is making me dizzy with desire. Hearing the other door, I turn towards him as he walks towards me. I throw myself at him, hugging him to me tightly. He gasps in surprise but wraps his strong arms around me, holding me just as tight. 

"Oh Trent, thank you for saving me!" my hot tears falling onto his shoulder. 

"Shh. Its ok, Kara." his voice muffled against my neck. He begins to lightly kiss up and down my neck.

The desire pooling deep inside explodes. I move my hips slowly, rubbing up against him. I feel his hard cock pushing against my stomach. His low moan telling me he wants me just as bad as i want him. 

He gently sweeps me up into his arms, carrying me down a path towards the cliffs. I feel so safe and warm in his arms, tracing his rigid jaw with light kisses. My hand slips into his tank top to tease his hard nipple, his answering groan excites me even more. His mouth captures mine in a slow and deep kiss. Our bodies are on fire for each other. 

He carries me into a rustic cabin at the end of the path. The only furniture I see is a huge bed and a small table with a lantern. He sits me on the edge of the bed and lights the lantern. He returns to me, gripping my hips. I peel my top off slowly, pulling his shirt off after throwing mine across the room. He gently cups my soft tits, his thumbs rubbing my nipples till i cry out with pleasure. Pushing me back until I'm laying on the bed, he makes short work of my boots and jeans. Completely naked, his eyes hungrily land on my smooth cunt. 

"Ah god, Kara!" he growls, lifting my hips off the bed as he kneels between my thighs, breathing deeply. His mouth grazes kisses up her inner thigh until reaching my wet lips. Gently sucking as his fingers tease the opening to my sheath. 

My hips start to buck against his mouth, sharply moaning. He flicks his tongue over my swollen clit teasingly, pushing two fingers deep into her agonizingly slow. 

"Oh my god, Trent! Yes baby!" I scream out loudly.

He shoves his tongue deep into me, licking and sucking hungrily. My body trembles as he brings on my orgasm, the force crashing through me wildly. He clamps his mouth around my hole, drinking all of my hot cum hungrily. Before I can fully come down, he stands and takes his jeans and boxers off, letting his thick 8 inch cock spring free. He starts rubbing his cock head against her dripping slit, his moan making her shiver in delight. 

He looks into my eyes, his eyes glistening with raw emotion, "I need you so badly, Kara! Be mine, please!" he cries out as he shoves all 8 inches into my slick sheath. 

I passionately scream his name over and over, "I'm yours forever, Trent! I'll love you until the day I die!" my eyes widen as the words come out.

He freezes, his throbbing cock buried in her pussy. He stares down at me, his smile making my heart swell. "I love you too, my sweet Kara." 

His hips begin to move slowly, sliding his big hands up to squeeze my soft tits gently as he thrusts faster. Our gasps and moans urging each other to explode. His balls start slapping against my ass as his thrusting becomes frantic. The sweat on our bodies glistening as we both cry out loudly. My pussy milking his spurting cock of every drop of cum. 

He collapses next to me on the soft bed, pulling me close. I kiss his sweaty chest, gently stroking his trembling thigh. "Your so amazing, Trent."

Trent smiles down at me, whispering, "No, you are, Kara. You broke down the wall around my heart, baby. You just showed me what it means to love."

We kiss gently and hold each other until we slip into sleep. Both of our hearts beating as one.



Breaking Down



He laughed at her, knowing this would add to her frustration. Becoming angry with him, she yelled, "You asshole. You get your release and deny me mine."

He quickly jumped to his feet and standing right in her face he spoke his reply, "All you had to do, slut, was lower yourself on my finger. Now you have earned yourself to be gagged." He reached down and picked up a piece of her ripped skirt. Taking the material he pushed it roughly against her my mouth, tying it securely behind her head.

He slid his hands down her body, caressing her. He lovingly stroked her breasts, watching her nipples grow even harder under his skillful hands. He took each nipple between his thumbs and forefingers. Gently he rolled the buds back and forth, her moans came from deep with in her throat, "The slut likes this?" All she could do was nod her head. He then started squeezing the buds, her moans became deeper. He pulled and pinched her nipples, causing her to rock off her toes and the knot pulled tight against her clit. He watched her as body shook from the thrill, the pain, the pleasure, that was coursing through her body at once. She quickly gained her footing on her toes again.

"Now, whore, cause you made me gag you, you will be punished." She could hear his foot steps as he walked away. Her mind racing, thinking he was going to leave her there like that. She was so deep in the woods, she knew no one would find her for days. Her heart racing, her breathing labored, panic was rising quickly in her. She started fighting against her strains, as she did, the rope pulled the knot against her clit, sending waves of sweet torture thru her body. She tugged and pulled, trying to free herself. Her struggles making her need to cum greater the then the fear t of him leaving her there. 

He stood not ten feet away, watching his captive become caught up in the pleasure and pain of being bound. His cock was quickly rising again as he watched her. He picked up a small switch from the ground and made his way back to her. He stood behind her, slightly to her side, he swung the switch back and let it smack against her ass. 

So caught up in the of pleasure from her bounds, she never heard him walk up behind her. When the switch smacked ass her, she jerked hard causing the knot to slide right past her clit. The pain and the pleasure at the same time, almost sent her over the edge. Again he swung the switch, again she pushed forward, this time the knot slide back into place, sliding over her swollen clit again. He continued his punishment to her ass, till she was breathing hard, sweating, and tears of frustration and pain ran down her face. He would take her so close to release then deny it to her.

He had turned her ass a nice rosy red with the switch. He could tell she had enjoyed it, she had kept pushing her ass backwards to the switch. He walked in front of her, "Does the slut need to cum," he taunted her.

She nodded her head yes and he could hear her muffled pleas of as she did so. He reached up, pulling the gag down from her mouth. "Please, pleaseeeeeeeee, Sir, let me cum," she begged him. He then took the blindfold from her eyes, she blinked rapidly trying to adjust eyes to the light. When they were adjust and she could see him clearly, he spoke to her.

"Do you know what I want to hear from you?" She looked at him confused, then searched his eyes for the answer. "Do not search me for the answer, search yourself," he said.

As he watched the confusion play across her face and eyes, he began he's torture of her body again. He tugged on the crotch rope, watching his captive being swept up again in the pleasure of her ropes. Her mind raced trying to figure out what he wanted and the statement of having to find it in herself. As he toyed the rope she gave in, "Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, Master, let this cunt cum. Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeee." Finally the words he had waited for, she gave herself to him.

Walking behind her, he took his knife and the cut crotch rope. Letting the knife fall from his hand to the ground. Slowly he placed the tip of his cock to her dripping pussy. "Tell me what you are," he said to her.

Breathless she began, "i am Your cunt. i am Your whore. i am Your slut. i am Your slave. Please take me my Master, pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeee." With that, he rammed his cock as deep into her as cunt as he could. Reaching around to her breasts, he grabbed one with each hand. Squeezing her breasts he used them to hold her in position as he pumped her sweet pussy.

"Don't cum till I say you can, slut." She was so close, she wanted so badly to cum, but did as her Master told her. She moan with each thrust of his cock and her pussy quivered. She felt his cock swelling and knew he would soon be releasing his seed deep in her cunt. As he felt his orgasm starting he yelled to her, "Now cunt, cummmmmmmm." At his word she went over the edge, she no longer knew where she was nor did she care. The sweet release of her orgasm had her in the clouds. Her body took over, her mind no longer functional. Her pussy clamped down on her Master's cock milking him. He groaned he came deep inside her. They stayed in that position for so long, neither knew which one came to their senses first. He slowly pulled his cock from her dripping pussy. Her pussy tried to cling to his cock as it left her. 

He walked over to the tree, untying the rope that held her hands over her head. She slowly fell to her knees. Her breathing starting to return to normal. He walked back to her and was about to untie her hands, when he felt her lips and tongue on his limp member. She lovingly sucked and licked till her Master's cock was clean of his and her juices. He looked down at her and stroked her cheek, "I knew you would be a sweet slave." With that he bent over and kissed her tenderly on the lips. He kneeled down in front of her and uncuffed her wrists, rubbing them to get the blood flowing back thru. 

"Do you think you can walk now, my love," he asked her.

She answered him timidly, "Yes, Master." 

He rose to his feet and assisted her to hers. They walked the short distance back to the car. He walked to the trunk, and removed a blanket. He wrapped her up in the blanket, covering her body, sense her clothes were in ruins. Opening the car door for her, she climbed in and he walked around climbing in on his side. As he started the car, she looked at him, "Master, do have any water?"..

THE END...