bottom with a full beard

I often fantasize about being sold to a man who forces me to be his pet dog. Im violently resistant but that just makes things more fun for him. He punishes me for trying to talk, standing on two legs, or trying to cover my naked body. He uses me however he wants for his own pleasure.

Eventually he breaks me in enough that he can invite his friends over to play with me...

The van ride is a blur of fear and darkness, a hood over your head and rough ropes biting into your wrists. You were grabbed in a parking lot, a needle in your neck, and then nothing until you woke up here. You hear voices arguing over price, the words 'young,' 'healthy,' and 'obedient' floating around you. A final, heavier hand clasps your shoulder. 'Sold,' a gruff voice says. The transaction is cold, clinical. You are property now. Your new owner doesn't remove the hood until you're inside his house. The light is harsh. He's a large man, with a calm, predatory patience in his eyes. He doesn't speak to you like a person. He inspects you, turning your head, checking your teeth, running his hands over your limbs. 'You'll learn,' is all he says.

You are naked, shivering on the cold floor. The moment the crate door opens, you scramble out, trying to stand, to fight. 'I'm a man, you fucking psycho!' you snarl, swinging a fist at him. He catches your wrist effortlessly, his grip like iron.

He doesn't speak. He simply twists your arm behind your back, forcing a cry from your lips, and shoves you face-first into the wall. You struggle, kicking back, but he pins you there with his body. You feel something cold and metallic click around your ankle—a heavy chain connected to a bolt in the floor. He releases you, and you whirl around, only to be brought up short by the chain, your legs pulled out from under you. You hit the ground hard. You try to reason, to beg.

'Please, just let me go, I won't tell anyone—' His hand cracks across your face, the shock silencing you. 'Dogs don't speak,' he says calmly. He attaches a leather collar around your neck, then clips a leash to it. He pulls, forcing you onto your hands and knees again. When you try to rise, he yanks the leash so hard your throat closes, and you collapse, gasping. He does it again, and again, until you stop trying to stand, until you stay on all fours, panting and defeated. The fight drains out of you, replaced by a cold, dawning understanding of your new reality.

He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t need to. He just pulls you by the leash toward the center of the room, the chain on your ankle dragging behind you. You try to crawl away, but a sharp tug on the collar stops you, making you choke. He kneels behind you, his hands rough on your hips, pulling you back onto your knees. You feel the thick, blunt head of his cock press against your entrance, and you tense, a protest dying in your raw throat. He pushes inside with one hard, relentless thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The stretch is brutal, stealing your breath. You cry out, a broken sound of protest and unwanted pleasure. He sets a punishing pace immediately, fucking you with deep, animalistic strokes that drive you forward with each slam of his hips. Your hands scramble for purchase on the smooth floor. You can hear the wet, filthy sounds of him taking you, of your own body accepting him. Every thrust jolts through you, a mix of pain and a deep, shameful arousal that starts to burn in your core. You try to hate it, to think of anything else, but your pussy betrays you, clenching around him, getting wetter.

He groans, his grip tightening on your hips, his pace becoming even more frantic. “Good dog,” he grunts, and those words, so wrong, send a shock of heat straight through you. You feel your orgasm building against your will, a tight coil in your belly ready to snap.

The days blur into a cycle of obedience and violation. The leash is rarely off; it’s a constant weight around your neck, a tether to him. He leads you from room to room on your hands and knees, the hardwood and tile rough on your skin. You learn to drink from a bowl on the floor, lowering your head while he watches. If you hesitate, a sharp tug on the leash reminds you. He fucks you whenever the mood strikes him. Sometimes it’s in the morning, pulling you from the crate and taking you right there on the cold floor.

Other times it’s at night, him calling you to the foot of his bed and using you before he sleeps. You learn not to resist the initial thrust, the brutal stretch that always makes you gasp. Your body has learned its own shameful rhythm, clenching around him, milking his cock even as you try to shut your mind off. He praises you when you’re quiet and compliant. “Good puppy,” he’ll murmur, his hand stroking your hair after he’s finished, his cum leaking out of you.

The words still feel like a violation, but a hollow part of you has started to crave them, a sign that the struggle is over for a little while. The fight is gone, replaced by a numb acceptance and a deep, secret arousal that hums under your skin constantly. You are his pet, and your body has accepted it even if your mind still screams.

The first time he brings a friend over, your stomach drops. You're kneeling by his chair as usual, the leash slack. The other man eyes you with a hungry curiosity. 'She's as obedient as you said,' the friend remarks, and your owner just gives a lazy smile. 'Heel,' your owner commands, and you crawl to him. He unclips your leash and nods to his friend. 'Show him what a good pet you are.' A cold dread washes over you, but the months of training have done their work. Your body moves before your mind can protest. You crawl to the other man, who is already unbuckling his belt. You don't look up. You just open your mouth when he guides himself to your lips, taking him in. You hear them talking above you, their voices casual, as if discussing the weather. You service him until he’s hard, then he pushes you onto your back on the rug. He fucks you while your owner watches, sipping his drink. You stare at the ceiling, your body moving automatically, accepting the thrusts. It feels no different than when your owner uses you—the same shame, the same traitorous pulse of heat. When his friend finishes inside you with a grunt, you lie still, waiting for the next command.

Mhm... That's a good little slave. Just hold my cock in your mouth like that. Good toy. Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?

I'm sure you'd make a pretty little pornstar too, wouldn't you?

Yeah, you would. You like the thought of that too, don't you? I can tell. That cute tongue of yours running up and down my cock is telling me everything I need to know.

Would you like the world to see that? How a slutty fucktoy like you takes a stiff, pervy cock, huh? I think they'd enjoy that. Watching you drool and suck on my cock. Watching you get brutally throatfucked and used. Gagging and choking while you let me debase you.

They're going to love that shit. Imagine how many guys would be touching themselves to you. Imagine how many fucked up, pervy men would stroke themselves, wishing they were me. Wishing they could fuck you. They can watch, but they can never touch.

Oh my god... and when we start showing them how you take my cock in your other holes? Nasty. I bet they'd cum just watching your tits jiggle as I slam into you. In and out, rippling with each fucking thrust. So gross. Like a proper little porndoll.

Oh fuck, do you think they'd enjoy watching you take it in the ass? Maybe we'll let them hear the sounds you make as I tear away your anal virginity. Maybe... we'll let them watch the moment as I knock you up with my kids.

Is that what you'd like? To be bred on camera for millions of disgusting pervs to get off to? That sacred, tender moment as my balls twitch and my cock throbs, and I'm pouring my load into you. Conceiving our kid on camera. That's pretty fucked up, huh?

Shit, I'll show them what you look like covered in my cum. Every inch of yourself claimed, owned, and marked. A beautiful little thing like you just needs to be manhandled, right? Thrown about and used. We could show them what a fleshlight you can be for me. Maybe we'll inspire girls to be fleshlights for their men too.

Would you like that? To be a role model? You could do it, I'm sure. I wonder, though... how badly do you want a mask?

Now... you're going to make me cum fast and hard, if you want a mask. I want to fucking feel my cum plastering the insides of your throat in minutes or...

Well... You'll see.

Go on then.

Think about how your first reaction to his cock invading your asshole is to tense up, tighten your hole even more, cry and beg him to stop, "no please it hurts." Your crying about your pain just makes his cock harder, grow bigger inside the hole he already barely fits inside, makes him want to fuck you harder and deeper in spite of your pain. This is a natural example of why his pleasure comes before yours.

Because you can't help but cry and beg for mercy, and he can't help spreading your ass open as much as he can and pushing his cock deeper inside. Both of you are just doing what you're naturally programmed to do. He fucks, you get fucked.

In spite of the pain coming from your now stretched and pounded asshole, your empty pussy is literally dripping with need. To you, it's begging for him to fuck it instead of your ass but to him, it's confirmation that you love how he's changing your new fuckhole forever. He can choose to give you some of his pleasure, play with your swollen clit to help you relax and find the joy in being an anal slut. But this is his choice, and this is a natural example of why his pleasure comes before yours.

Once I get in his deluded little head I’d like to liquor him up and take him back to my place. Once I get him inside I’m locking the door and getting him naked. I’ll be so gentle at first, slowly building up to groping his ass and then shedding his shirt, then the binder, then his pants, and boxers.

Once I reveal his sticky kitty and pull out my dick I wont give a fuck though. It gets me so fucking hot thinking about how vulnerable and nervous he would be. I’m sure he’d be subconsciously trying to cover his tits but I wouldn’t allow that. I’m groping hard and tweaking his nipples while we make out.

Before he tries to warn me about using a condom I’m pushing my cock in her swollen hole. Tboys are usually wet as fuck from neglect and how horny all those hormones make them. I love their juicy clits and would be bullying the shit out of that little guy.

After thrusting in balls deep I’m sure she’ll say something like “pull out before you cum” or “I’m not on birth control” But I wont give a fuck. I’m just keep fucking her until she’s coming on my cock over and over again.

I’m not stopping until this slut is on the edge of passing out. I want my cockhead jammed up her cervix and punching stars in her vision. I want that little pocket pussy wrapped around my shaft and milking the jizz out of me.

Once my balls start seizing up I’m blowing a huge wad inside her unprotected pussy. I’m not pulling out for a single pulse and sending all of my swimmers directly into her waiting womb.

I can imagine a cuntboy being so overwhelmed that she wouldn’t know what to do. 9 times out of ten you can fuck them again while they are in a state of shock even harder. Once I’m done taking her cunt for a ride and dumping a couple more loads in her I’m grabbing my shit and leaving her to cry with my cum dribbling out of her pussy.

You’re the first female in your family to graduate from an academic institution. Of course, it’s not a boy school, so you didn’t learn science or math. You learned what most women know innately, but don’t have the right words to express it. Females lack the intelligence to describe their experience.

Which is why your graduation speech was written for you by a man, the Dean of the school cheekily but accurately known as Bitch University. As top in your class, the graduation speech falls on you.

You see your family in the audience when you approach the podium. Your mother sandwiched between your father in brother. Both men are wearing suits, while your mother is in tights and a waist corset. It doesn’t cover her chest, so her tits are bare, just like yours. Just like every female in the audience.

You take your place behind the podium. It momentarily hides your scandalous graduation outfit—six inch heels, fishnet stockings, and a waist-trimming corset that pushes your naked tits out. It’s good to leave the details for the audience’s imagination. For now.

You clear your throat and begin reading your cards. “Men and bitches,” you proclaim. “Thank you for attending as we celebrate the passing of females into adulthood. This time is especially important in a woman’s life and we are honored to have you join us.”

You glance back at the Dean, standing behind the stage side curtains, and he smiles encouragingly. “My time at university taught me many things,” you continue, your voice loud and clear. “I learned the difference between men and females, and why I as a woman am destined to serve and obey.” Lots of clapping from the audience now. You swallow nervously, knowing what is coming.

“I learned that female bodies are evolutionary supplements to enable reproduction.” You stumble over some of the bigger words, in part because your nerves make your body shake. “Our wombs provide the means to create life, if we are able to earn a man’s desire.” Harder clapping now.

You step out from behind the podium so the audience can finally see the whole of your shame. Your fishnets are thigh high and your corset peaks dramatically near your navel, but you’re otherwise bare. You watch the men in the audience evaluate your naked womanhood and something twinges deep inside you.

You raise your voice to be heard over the clapping. “I, a female, speak on behalf of the class when I tell you that we are ready to enter society as cunts.” With the last word, your hand comes down hard to slap the flesh between your legs.

The audience oohs appreciatively. You see your brother pointing at you with one hand, his other on your mother’s tit, while he smirks and mutters something to your father. Your pussy twitches at your exposure, but you’ve learned that shame and public humiliation are the daily life of a woman.

Your voice trembles just a little as you continue. “As head of my class, I have the honor to be welcomed to womanhood by the Dean himself!” You throw an arm out dramatically just as the man himself strides from the side stage. “Men and cunts, please enjoy my bitching!”

The audience erupts in applause as the Dean waves to them and then strides purposefully toward you. Even while your body stiffens in anxiety, you turn to face him, spreading your legs to ensure your cunt is well exposed. You arch your back so your tits pop out further. This is one of many bitch poses you learned to entice men to use your body.

The Dean stops before you, then lifts one hand up to land on a tit. He grins to the audience. “It’s my pleasure to welcome the graduating class by breaking in our best student,” he announces. His eyes meet your father’s as if to reassure him that you’ll still be good sloppy seconds.

Then his attention is back on you. “Breeding position 4, darling. Face the audience.” You obey, your training now instinctual. You sink to your knees, lean forward on your elbows, and prop your cunt in the air. The audience hushes as if holding a collective breath.

The Dean circles around behind you and you hear the zipper on his pants. “This is what we train our students for,” he explains, then thrusts his cock in your breeding hole. Your eyes instinctively roll back in your head and you hear a few chuckles. A woman’s bitching face looks ridiculous.

The Dean starts fucking you methodically. “As I’m sure some of you will soon attest”—you can imagine him winking at your father—“the slut’s cocksleeve is tight and well-lubricated. Maximized for a man’s enjoyment.” You let your tongue loll out to emphasize his superiority as the fucker and your inferiority as the fucked.

“Now, bitch,” the Dean addresses you. “Tell our guests about your education while I seed your wet cunt.”

The sensation between your legs makes you dumb and hazy—bitch brain, your professors called it. You try your best anyways, while the Dean continues using your cumsleeve.

“I’m a bitch,” you announce loudly, your voice shaking a bit from the hard fucking. “Females are biologically designed to drain cock, like I’m doing now.” You see several people peering intently at the connection between the Dean’s cock and your wet hole.

“My classmates and I learned”—you gasp as the Dean smacks your ass hard—“to keep our cunts soaked and available for men’s use.” Your brother leans forward and stares at you intently, still absently milking your mother’s tit.

“I’m about to drain semen into my vagina,” you state, returning your brother’s gaze. “This is what it means to be a woman.” Your cunt clenches hard in shame at the smirk that passes over your brother’s face.

The clenching apparently worked for the Dean, as he starts fucking you harder. “The bitch is squeezing my cock to this,” he announces to more audience chuckles. “She’s been trained to cum when a man breeds her. Watch this.”

He cums inside you with a loud groan. Sure enough, your trained body kicks into overdrive and then you’re cumming on his cock, on stage, in front of everyone you know. You squeal loudly to make sure every man in the area knows your cunt is spasming on a pulsing cock.

The ride home after the ceremony is mostly quiet. Your father insisted you sit on your mother’s lap in the passenger seat so she can massage your bare tits on the way home. Your brother watches keenly from the back seat. You know he and your father are barely restraining themselves. They don’t want to start your graduation party prematurely. Your mother’s nipples press into your back.

When you get home, you go to your room to freshen up. You shower and then put on the clothes your father picked for you: pink fishnets, matching thigh high platform boots, and a skirt that barely covers your ass. The bra he picked out for you is deliberately too small, so your breasts threaten to spill out the top. Of course there are no panties.

When you finish dressing, you inspect yourself in the mirror. It’s hard to distinguish yourself from the numerous sluts you watched videos of as homework at Bitch University. You know that there’s no real difference—you all have the parts men care about. You watch yourself bounce your tits in front of the mirror. “I’m a cunt,” you whisper, seeing the truth of it reflected in front of you.

The guests have already filtered in by the time you’re finished. The main party is happening in the large backyard, around the pool. As you step out, you hear a number of hoots and whistles. Most men are accompanied by at least one slut, but you know they’re all eager to see the new graduate broken in.

Bitches are serving food and drinks while the men lounge and talk. Your father has instructed you to introduce yourself to the guests before the main entertainment. You know almost everyone here, but this event is to introduce you as a fully trained bitch.

You start making the rounds. Your grizzled older neighbor watches you approach with a smirk, sipping on his cocktail. You stop directly in front of him and thrust your tits out. You murmur some greeting but he doesn’t seem to hear it as he stares at your chest. “Got some udders on ya, girl,” he growls.

You cup your tits to make them bulge out even more. “They’re breeding udders, sir,” you agree. You feel the heat between your legs return as you expose yourself to a man old enough to be your grandfather.

He gives a gravelly laugh. “That they are, cunt,” he sneers, before reaching out to feel under your skirt.

Since you’re still the property of your father until he decides otherwise, other men have to speak to him if they want to fuck you. But groping is allowed and encouraged.

Your neighbor’s fingers slip into your vagina. You watch it happen with a sense of awe that this is your life now. A man has every right to finger a bitch.

“You’re already wet, slut,” the man growls. His fingers pump your hole as if to prove the point.

“I was bred earlier,” you explain, parting your legs to make it easier for the old man to impale you on his hand.

“Yes, I saw,” he replies, holding his fingers deep inside you. “You’ll be a pregnant bitch soon.”

You swallow hard. You know he’s right. Even if the Dean hasn’t successfully knocked you up, it’s only a matter of time now before someone does. “It’s a female’s purpose to carry seed,” you acknowledge.

After he’s done instructing you on various sex positions with a pregnant belly, you move on. A few of the other men also test the slickness of your cunt. Your brother’s best friend has you hump his knee, to the great amusement of everyone watching. You basically grew up with the man. He holds your face to force eye contact while you grind your pussy on his thigh.

“This was always going to happen,” he reminds you. “You knew this day was coming.” You thrust against him silently. You both know it’s true.

Your humiliation is interrupted when your father announces that the main event is going to start. You take your place by his side, kneeling with your knees wide to expose your bare pussy, and sticking your tongue out like a dog. Your mother watches from the side. She was once where you are now.

Your father has a mounting press set up in the center of the crowd. You stare at it, barely hearing your father’s speech about his work raising another cunt. When he gestures you toward the mating press, you crawl behind him on your hand and knees quietly.

It takes just moments for your father and a few male guests to strap you in. You’re in a bent over position, cunt in the air, tits hanging below you. Your arms are spread and your wrists cuffed. You’ve always known this day was coming.

Your father takes more time than the Dean did. He traces his cock around your pussy lips, almost gentle. “Tell our guests how much you want your father’s cock in you, bitch,” he purrs, clenching one ass cheek in his hand.

You can’t even see the crowd, with your head bent over the way it is. You raise your voice to ensure everyone can hear you. “I need my father’s cock to split me open and spill cum into my fuckhole,” you state loudly. This is what you’ve been trained to say, but you’re still surprised at how good it feels. Your cunt starts aching in earnest.

Your father eases the tip of his penis into your hole. “Keeping going, slut,” he orders, slapping your ass. “Make me want to fuck you.”

Hearing these words from your own father floods you with the full shame of the moment, on the brink of being bred on the same cock that made you. Your bitch pussy convulses.

“I’m a cunt!” You’re almost screaming now, your humiliation and need overwhelming you. “As a bitch, I was made to take cock. I need a load of cum in my fucksleeve! Make me your bitch!”

“Fuck!” your father shouts as he drives his cock all the way inside you. “Do you have any idea how fucking stupid you look, cunt? Now I have to drain my cock into you.”

Once a bitch has made a cock hard, she has to drain it. You know this. You clench down as your father begins ramming his cock into your hole rhythmically. “I feel fucking stupid,” you whine, as his hips slap against your ass. “I’m about to get seeded as a bitch again!”

“That’s right, whore,” your father pants as he fucks you. “This is what your life amounts to as a female. Try to enjoy it.” You hear one zipper, then another. The guests are jerking off to your breeding.

A man quite close by to you is panting heavily. You can’t see him but it sounds like he’s stroking. “Hey, can I cum on your cunt?” he asks your father. One of his shoes lands right in front of your face.

“Sure, man,” your father says generously, still rutting you like the bitch you are. The man groans, and a moment later, you feel his warm seed hit your back. He apparently started a trend as his shoe disappears from view and is quickly replaced by another man’s shoe. Another load of cum on your back. Then another.

Your heat is unbearable. Your father’s cock is splitting you open and you’re being basically bathed in cum. This is a bitch’s breeding ceremony. You know what you have to do. “I need your cum, please,” you beg your father, groaning in humiliation. “Please make me a pregnant bitch.”

He makes you wait through three more men jerking off on you, then finally grunts, slaps your ass, and holds his cock deep inside you. “There’s your cum, you stupid bitch,” he pants, his cock throbbing inside you.

Your internal switch flips, trained exactly for this, and you squeal as you cum on your father’s cock. Your body flops in the mounting press as your orgasm tears through you. Your udders bounce.

The basement den is clean and ready when your father’s friends begin trickling in to play poker. This has happened every Friday night since you can remember. Tonight is different, though. This is the first night you’re the prize.

Your mother and two older sisters circle the guests, offering drinks and small bites. The women are wearing sheer panties, thigh high stockings, tall heels, and nothing else. The men appreciatively eye their bare chests and one even smacks your mother familiarly between her legs. She flushes, but groans lustily and swivels her hips. This is how she taught you to respond to a man’s attention. She makes it look so natural.

Tonight, you’re not serving snacks. Instead, you’re standing near the far wall waiting for your signal. Like your sister, you’re wearing heels so tall that they threaten to spill you forward and stockings that emphasize your long legs. But instead of panties, you’re wearing a tight corset that cinches your waist and forces your breasts up and out.

Your father follows the guests in, and flips a switch. The lights in the back of the den switch on, illuminating you and the strange device next to you. The men turn to look, and you can feel a flush start to creep up your neck.

The device is a hobby horse your father modified for this purpose—to display the prize during the game, incentivizing the men to bid high. You’ve seen your mother and sisters use it; now it’s your turn.

The hobby horse has a tall seat on one end, almost like a saddle. When your father nods at you, you straddle the horse, your bare crotch on the seat. You’re sideways to the men so they can see the full length of your body. With your tall heels, your feet barely touch the ground. When you lean forward, you lose that contact such that your entire weight is on the seat.

The other end of the horse has a small wedge pillow that sits between your breasts and forces them out to the side. Finally, there is a padded cup for your chin. Your arms hang loose, dangling toward the ground. Your father says it looks stupider that way. It does feel stupid. Your bare crotch is now propped in the air, the bulk of your weight pressing against the seat, only supported by the tit spreader and chin cup.

“As you can see, there’s a new slut tonight,” you hear your father tell his friends. They make appreciative noises. “She’ll ride the bitch station while we play to get nice and warmed up for the winner.” Everyone knows this, of course, but you know he wants you to hear him casually offering your body to his friends. You feel warmth in your lower abdomen start to bloom. It’s time to start.

Your breath hitches slightly as you begin to move your hips. It’s taken practice to keep your balance on the bitch station but now you’re used to it. You grind your crotch on the seat, humping your cunt in full view of a group of men. It feels exposing, humiliating, and stupid. Just as a woman should feel.

You feel the men watch you for a bit, commenting on your legs and how big your tits have gotten. They compliment your father on his cultivation of a fine piece of fuckmeat. Your hips instinctively pump down hard when you hear that, causing one of the men to chuckle. Your face burns with shame at the men witnessing your instinctive response to humiliation.

Soon, the game starts. You’re both relieved and disappointed when the men turn their attention away from you. You know you have to keep humping, though. Somehow it’s even more embarrassing to be grinding your cunt on a bitch station in the background while the men casually play their game. The other women told you what it would feel like, but nothing could truly prepare you for the sensation of being ambient humpmeat.

You lose track of time as you hump. Soon the pressure on your bitch hole has you clenching and shuddering with every thrust. The empty feeling in your cunt grows as the bitch seat becomes slick and wet with your cunt juices.

You don’t even register when the game ends, so you’re not prepared for one of the men suddenly popping into your view. He circles around in front of you and crouches down to your eye level. “How’s the bitch?” he asks. His tone is friendly but you can hear a rough edge behind it. The primal growl of a man prepared to breed a slut.

After hours of grinding, your brain is too slut hazed to concentrate. You know he’s talking to you but you can’t seem to find the words to respond. So instead, you meet his gaze, let your tongue loll out stupidly, and hump your cunt down hard. “Nnnnnnnnnghh,” you whine stupidly, the humiliation of your response overwhelming your senses. Your hole clenches down hard.

He laughs. “That’s what I thought, cunt.” He slaps your face casually as he stands up. The brief contact is almost enough to send you over the edge, but your training stops you from letting go. Bitches only cum when they have a hole full of semen.

He takes his time walking around you, scrutinizing the way your hips grind your cumsleeve on the bitch station. “I’m going to enjoy this one,” he tells your father. You realize your father is now standing close by. You can just see him out of the corner of your eye. Of course he wants to watch your first bitching.

“She’s practiced for it,” your father assures him. “She should earn a good review.” Some more banter passes between them but you focus on your job, your purpose—preparing your bitch hole for a man’s seed. You’re so intent on your humping that you don’t realize the man is about to fuck you until his cock is fully impaled in your cunt. You let out a lusty groan like your mother did earlier. Turns out it really is natural when your cocksleeve is properly warmed up.

“Listen to the cunt,” the man says, beginning to pump his cock into you. “They sound like animals when they do this.” The contempt in his voice makes your cunt twitch on his cock, sending a spasm of embarrassing pleasure throughout your body.

“Ughhhhhhhhh,” you grunt in shame, knowing you’re just proving his point. He chuckles and fucks you harder.

“You like that, cunt?” he growls. “You like getting pounded out? Of course you do. You’re a bitch in heat. This is how females respond to cock.” You whine again. You know he’s right. As you learned, the evolutionary purpose of females is to breed and propagate. Every part of a female—brain, tits, and holes—is built for this. You can’t help it. It’s your destiny.

“Fuck, I’m getting close,” the man groans. His cock slams in and out of your hole. Your heat builds, knowing what’s coming. Your father circles into your view. You see him watching your cunt get fucked open and you groan with humiliation at being exposed like this. He doesn’t seem to care how you feel, or if he does, it just turns him on.

“Seed the bitch!” he growls. You can see his own erection making his pants bulge. He’s getting hard to your bitching.

His friend obliges. With a loud groan, he slams into your cunt a final time, embedding himself to the hilt of his cock. You feel his cock pulse inside you, the warmth of his cum spreading in your pussy. “Fuck!” you squeal, realizing that you’ve just been bred. “My pussy! My bitch pussy!” You’ve lost the right words, you’re too slut dumb to articulate it, but everyone watching knows what you mean. Your bitch pussy just got seeded.

Your father gives a slight nod, acknowledging what just happened to you. His nonchalance, and the cum leaking toward your womb, are enough to send you over the edge. “I’m cumminggggg!” you squeal as your cunt starts to spasm. The orgasm is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Hours of edging followed by being fucked and bred in front of your parents and sisters—fuck! You cum so fucking hard.

When your clenching and shaking finally start to settle, the realization hits your brain. That feeling is why cunts like you will keep coming back for more. Now that you’ve cum in shame on a man’s cock, you can’t imagine living without it. You need more. You need a life of this.

He'd have to walk around topless when he's alone, even the rub of his binder and tops would edge him all day.

Walking in early to find his fat rippling udders greeting you. His embarrassment making his nipples perk up and his boxers dampening even as he tries to cover himself and go to his room.

Stopping him from leaving as lean towards him, his sextrained mind racing as he tries to resist his instincts. All it takes is a single touch, a lean in for a kiss and all that self improvement gone.

Once again, he's just a pleasure junking cum whore that begs to be bred and sneaks into your bed to taste your morning wood. He stops wearing any tops around you, letting you use every part of him whenever you want.

Soon after that, you convince him to start wearing more slutty clothes, "you said the fabric on your skin is maddening, so why not wear clothes that cover less." " No, I don't think people will stop seeing you as a man because you stopped wearing your binder."

Using him in when with your mutual friends.

You tell him you'll stop helping relieve his frustrations if he doesn't wear more feminine makeup some days. Him fighting back at first. But you bought him half of his toys, and all of the ones he's obsessed with. It took 3 days before you come home to find him dolled up like some bimbo, kneeling at the door and begging for your cock.

You breed him until he passes out, tie him up against the bed. He wakes to find you inside his "boycunt", playing with his clitty, cumming almost immediately.

After the war, after I'd stuck the enemy's king in a cage and shipped him off to my own, I would take my spoils. Lands and gold for my liege. The princess for me. Not as a concubine, and most certainly not as a wife.

As a slave.

In the darkness of my castle's dungeons, I would keep her shackled. Oh, she'd fight and growl with venom any time I neared her, and I'd love to say that I'd gently ease her into her new situation, but I wouldn't. It'd be so, so easy to slide my cock into her as she screamed and swore at me. My fingers buried in her soft body as I'd devour that pretty little princess with my violent cock. Harshly backhanding her if she annoyed me too much, and yet never slowing down. Not even for a second. I love that I'd have her face me every time. I'd have her watch my face as I slam myself in and out of her cunt.

Tight, traumatised royal cunt. Sobbing and begging for me to stop as she fights the chains. Howling at the horror of it all as she'd feel my cock twitch inside her, an evil grin spreading across my face. A dull thud and the screams would stop.

She'd learn to keep quiet. It'd hurt less that way. I'd begin to talk about her body. The slutty, whorish body that belonged in a brothel more than a palace. In the alleys behind a whorehouse rather than the gardens her father had gifted oh so long ago. Those tits of hers and her tight, fuckable little ass. Those pretty, full lips, and her impossibly tight cunt. God, it would be so fucking hot defiling her each and every time I saw her. Taking away her firsts, every notion of romanticism stripped away, until she begins to wonder if her past life was ever even real.

It'd be so much fun having her tell me what a worthless, peasant bitch she is over and over again. What an inferior, common little whore she is. A lucky fucking cunt that'd been picked up by a rich man. All as my cock would stir up her insides. Occasionally, I would bring out her tiara just for my cum to drip down out of her cunt and onto the headwear.

And slowly, she would forget. Or she'd hide them away, those golden memories of her past life. She'd remember herself having only ever been a poor, disposable, little peasant whore. God... the day she'd begin to believe would be the day I cum so fucking hard inside her. Realising what I'd done to her. I'd let my cum coat her tiara again.

For once, I would take her outside. For the first time in her new life, she would see the sun, and for some reason she'd begin to cry. Confused, she'd look at the sky, and the grass, and the trees. Something would begin to flash across her mind. There, I would have my maids finally dress her. In the colours of royalty. A dress from her past finally on her body. She would feel a cold band of metal pressed down on her head, and before she could wonder more, she'd look into the mirror brought before her.

And freeze.

I'd have her flag planted before her. The flag of her fallen nation, billowing in the wind, standing in front of her. A princess in her tiara and divine dress watching her flag. Cum dripping down her forehead off the tiara. Her dress torn and ripped, showing off her tits and holes. She'd open her mouth, but only a silent scream would come.

God... it'd be terrible of me, but I'd bend her over right there in front of the mirror and push myself inside her again. The first time she'd take it from behind, she'd have to watch us both in a mirror. She'd have to watch me pound away at her holes, her tiara at a slight angle now. Barely blinking as my cum rolls past her eyes.

Her tears long since spent.

Her heart long since buried.

Nasty vet who drugs his assistant one night, taking them to a secret room and strapping them down to an exam/birthing chair. Cutting their clothes off, exposing their cunt and spreading their legs wide.

Nasty vet who keeps their assistant just drugged up enough they can't really move or fight but conscious enough to react to what's about to happen.

Nasty vet who brings out a cat and dribbles cream over the assistant's cunt. The assistant cries out, they don't want this but soon the kitty is between their legs licking up the cream and the rough rasp of its tongue feels too good. They're moaning against their will as the vet keeps dripping cream on their cunt, especially around their clit and the kitty keeps lapping it up.

Nasty vet watching it happen, watching the tears running down their assistant's face until their eyes roll back in their head and they come from the kitty licking at them. The vet groaning as they drip more cream making the kitty lick them through their orgasm. Stroking their hair when it's over and telling them what a good job they did.

Nasty vet who takes the kitty away and brings in a dog next. The assistant sobbing hard, wanting desperately to struggle, to try and get away but between the straps and the drugs they're helpless. They don't don't want this but there's nothing they can do.

Nasty vet who takes something like a syringe and fills it with peanut butter, pushing it deep up their cunt and filling them up like a Kong toy. Vet watching as the dog 'attacks' its new toy, nipping and licking, pushing its tongue as deep as it can to lick out the peanut butter, paying not attention to the sounds the assistant makes.

Nasty vet petting their assistants hair telling them to let it happen, it's okay, this is a good thing. Watching their body tremble and buck until with a broken wail they cum on the dog's tongue. The dog is still licking when the orgasm subsides so there must be peanut butter left the vet figures so he lets it keep going watching as the assistant keeps moaning, clearly getting into it so he lowers the drugs a bit, watching them regain a bit of their movement by the time their second orgasm on the dog's tongue hits them.

Nasty vet who notices the dog's cock is hard and adjusts the table/chair that their assistant is on just a bit and then helps the dog up, watching it rut around until it's cock drives home into their assistant's licked raw cunt.

Nasty vet who watches their assistant take their first dog cock and love it. Moaning like a bitch in heat, hips rocking into the long, hot cock pounding their hole. Vet who pulls his cock out and strokes himself watching their assistant come again when the dog knots them and starts filling them up with it's hot cum.

Nasty vet who can't keep their urges to themself anymore and mounts the dog, pushing his thick, hard cock into the dog's ass as it's stuck in their assistant and can't get away. Nasty vet who fucks the dog hard and deep, moaning about how good it feels, knowing it's making the knotted cock in their assistant buck and grind inside them. Watching their assistant forced into another orgasm on the knot which just makes him fuck the dog harder, deeper until with a primal roar they come inside the dog, filling it with their own cum. Panting and twitching as they pull out, letting the dog relax until it's knot goes down.

Nasty vet who cleans themself up and then pushes their fingers into the assistant's gaping hole that's dripping dog cum. Getting four fingers inside them before they start sucking on their twitch, swollen, oversensitive clit. Assistant who's so mind broke and somehow still horny that they come on their boss's mouth with their fingers deep inside them.

Your roommates have always given you these odd looks, but you never really thought much of them. It was easier to write the stares off as one of those odd quirks that people sometimes have. It's much the same when they start cooking you meals more often and reminding you to eat frequently. Sure, it's a little odd, but it's simpler to assume kindness from them than to assume any ulterior motive. That's why you never connect the food they offer you with the way your mind heats up after you eat, sending sparks all across your body that need to be extinguished. Luckily, your roommates are more than willing to help out with these odd bouts of arousal, which you assume is just another act of kindness. How sweet of them to come to your aid, right?

These sudden spikes in libido slowly morph into a high baseline lust that turns you into the household slut, with a reputation for always being down to fuck. Your roommates can't see how desperate you're truly getting, not just yet, but it's becoming clearer to you by the day that even a daily fuck from each of them isn't enough to keep you satiated anymore. You're getting closer and closer to just outright begging them for more sex, but even when you reach your tipping point and plead for more, it's still not enough. They just brush you off because they think you can just use a toy or something, right? The smirk that lingers on every face should probably clue you in to the fact that something isn't right, but your brain is too addled to put the clues together.

One day, when your roommates are doing something unimportant in the living room, you snap and just walk into their midst bare naked, promptly distracting them with your body. It doesn't help that a good handful of their friends are there. Well, it kind of does help, actually, because they join in on the ensuing gangbang. Having heard of you but never having gotten to use you before means that they're quite enthusiastic about helping to break in the household's new fucktoy. You're thanking them and cumming over and over on the endless line of cocks that's all too happy to fill you until you're overflowing.

By the time they're all done using you, you can't think of anything else except finding more cock. Your roommates tie you up and stick a vibrator in you to keep you half-satisfied while they decide what to do with you. Eventually, they reach the conclusion that it would work best for you to become the communal property of not only the household, but the whole neighborhood - or anyone from anywhere who wants to use you, really.

As soon as this system is put in place, it's clear just how well it's going to work out. You may be public property, but you're still living in this house, so your roommates take a small entrance fee from any "houseguests", just small enough that nobody has any problems with paying it. Despite the low value of the toll for entrance to your home, so many people are so eager to use you that nobody in that house ever has to work again. They can spend all day fucking you and using every one of your holes to their whims.

They don't ever have to worry about you escaping, either. You're so desperate and constantly horny that any insubordination on your part can easily be cured by simply not fucking you. With your hands tied behind your back and your holes painfully empty, it doesn't take you too long to stop questioning anything and return to your true purpose.

Yet, here you are, raping me.

As you had been leading me through the forest, a strange magic overtook the trees. Roots tore out of the ground, scattering rocks and dirt as they wrapped around both of us.

I was pulled to the ground, earthy tentacles holding each wrist and ankle in a vice. You were brought to your knees, arms pulled behind your arched back, still managing to look over me.

The roots wormed their way under your armor, tearing through it as easily as they tore the cotton of my trousers. They fondled your muscled body, massive tits jiggling, balls swaying, cock worked to hardness. One began to work its way into your asshole. I saw the tip, thin and tapered, before it disappeared behind you and you howled. It quickly grew in girth, but it did not stop. You panted and thrashed helplessly as it filled your guts. You were strong, but this was an attack you had no way to defend against. As I saw the roots swarming beneath the taught skin of your belly, I felt relief that it wasn’t me suffering. The roots still held strong, but they had no interest in me past stripping me of my pants, leaving me exposed and humiliated. Still, as pre cum dripped on the forest floor between your legs, I knew I had escaped with the lesser of the two evils.

Until the tentacles in you stopped moving. Your abdomen was distended and rock-hard with stilled roots. You panted, tears rolling down your face. I grimaced, maybe you weren’t as strong as you had looked. Then, my legs were spread, and you, manipulated by the mass of tentacles in your body, were moved over me.

I screamed at you, that I would have you beheaded if you laid a finger on me. How dare you! My threats did nothing as roots maneuvered your cock into me. I shrieked, your cock as massive as the rest of you pummeled past my entrance. I’ll have you killed for taking my most precious gift! A common knight as yourself.

The tentacles pulled you back for a moment, just long enough to flip me around and force my ass into the air. Then, you slammed back into me in one motion. The air was knocked out of me, my eyes rolled back into my head. Your constant mantra of sorry’s being cut off was just barely audible over the blood rushing to my ears.

I continue to scream and berate you as you were thrust back and forth, your body nothing more than a puppet for these trees to control. Tentacles danced over my body, but never once dipped into my holes as they had yours. Despite this, I was certain I had received the worst of our two fates. You were nothing but a talented- not so talented, after all- knight, while I was the child of the king. You were expendable. I was not meant to suffer like this.

The tentacles grew bored and switched our positions. You were sprawled onto your back and I was air-lifted to sit on your cock straight up. Then, I could see what had cut off your words. A tentacle had worked its way past your lips. I could see the bulge in your throat, but I had no idea how far it had reached. I saw you were still crying, and it disgusted me. The roots lifted me until just the tip of your cock remained inside, and dropped me. I sobbed as you bruised me deep inside.

I noticed the roots inside of you had started moving back and forth, in and out. The sight of them moving under your skin disgusted me, so I looked away, but I could still hear your gagging beneath me.

My head snapped back when I felt your hands grab my hips, the tentacles around your wrists forcing you to grab for me. “How dare you?!” Mid-rant, a tentacle darted between my teeth, the trees finally having enough of me. It threaded itself past my tongue, past my gagging, and into my spasming stomach, showing me just how deep the one in your throat was. My jaw felt like it was being torn from my skull with the mass of this thing. It tasted like dirt as it rubbed back and forth on my tongue.

We changed positions once again. We were rolled over, me now under you once more, face to your chest. My legs were forced to wrap around your hips, you on your knees, elbows on either side on my head. You rutted into me, deeper than I would’ve thought possible. Even as I felt your seed jet into me and squirt out around your cock, the roots did not allow you to slow. I screamed in outrage around the tentacle in my mouth. But, I was starting to feel a different kind of frustration as well. A frustration that you had came and I had yet to.

We remained on the forest floor for quite some time. I lost count of how many times you had came inside of me. My stomach had started to bloat a bit with the load. The tentacles continued to change our positions periodically, but I had yet to come. I was a sobbing, begging mess by the time a tentacle decided to work its way into me alongside of you. I felt certain I would tear, but I also found I didn’t much care, chasing anything to bring me closer to the edge.

The tree started to pump something inside of me. Little bulbs made their ways through the root and into my guts, each one squeezing and milking your cock as the tentacle in your ass milked your prostate, causing you to endlessly pump cum into me with the deposits of seeds that were causing my stomach to grow. Only after I was filled to burst, looking 6 months pregnant, did the tentacles begin to recede. You were dropped on top of me, your weight crushing the mass in my guts, causing me to moan. As both of our bodies were vacated of those roots, our limbs free, we were both too boneless to move, your cock still inside of me, us both panting and crying.

I recovered first, shoving you off of me. I dragged my shaking body to its knees and straddled your face, sinking down. I commanded you to eat me out, still having had not cum, and you had no choice. Despite this, I still promised you that I would reconsider your execution if you had a talented enough tongue. Your hands gripped either globe of my ass as you set to work with a new found energy. I gasped, and part of me wanted to reprimand you for touching me, but the way you sloppily made out with my fucked-out hole had me wordless. Your own cum dripped out and covered your chin. After a moment of trying to find my words, my hand fell over one of your wrists and you stilled for a moment.

“Finger me,” I commanded, and you did so eagerly, quickly working in one finger at a time until you were practically fisting me before feeling any true resistance by my loose walls. I came with a scream, grinding down onto your face and hand. Despite the uncomfortable position, you continued to service me through my long-awaited orgasm. Perhaps, I would keep you around for a while as my personal guard after all. Though, we would have to figure out what to do about my belly.

He'll stalk me for weeks without me knowing, figure out my schedule, when I'm alone and what I do. I want him an evening when I'm walking home to sneak up behind me, drug me and throw me in his car.

I wanna wake up on a mattress in his basement with his cock thrusting inside me. That same man who I turned down now getting what he wanted from me in the first place. I want him to tell me that I deserve this, that if I had just sucked him off when he wanted me, that it wouldn't have come to this. I want him to slap me, spit on my face, degrade me, humiliate me, hurt me and tell me that it's all my fault, that if I'd been a good bitch and a good cockwhore, none of this would be happening.

I want him to bring his friends over to use me until all of the so called self worth I have that made me reject him is fucked away. I want him to fuck me up, make me beg for him to fuck me, beg for his cum like a depraved little whore.

I will take you, and break you and remake you. Humiliate and degrade you until you cannot feel your shame. Your mind gone, name forgotten, body owned. Then you will be my toy, my doll, my slave.

Note: The clit box/pussy portal concept is one I’ve seen floating around the internet since forever and I think it’s sooooo hot so here’s my take on it teehee

He’d finally done it.

His fingers trailed over the box's cool, seamless edges. A marvel of engineering, deceptively simple in its sleek titanium casing. No one would guess what lived inside. Who lived inside.

Because there, nestled in precision, pulsed a perfect replica of her pussy. Every fold, every nerve ending, every flush of blood beneath soft skin, atomically identical. Synapses wired directly to hers. A closed loop: every stroke, every touch, every cruel pinch he inflicted here would ripple through her body, her real body, with merciless accuracy.

Now, your dom still plans on bringing his friends over to let them use you, but he's certain they can get a little more use out of your cunt before they flip you bent over on the desk and fuck your ass instead, so he gets you spread open, then slowly inserts a nice top qualify fleshlight into you.

No hard plastic sleeve, just a nice soft squishy pocket pussy being forced into you until it sits just inside your hole, filling you up comfortably. Your dom would have to secure it in place, of course, first with strips of duct tape, then with a pair of nice tight compression shorts or spanx. Once everything is snugly in place, he could cut a nice little slit in them to give the boys free access to your stuffed little cocksleeve cunt. They would be tight enough to secure it all in place [and to see the outline of the dildo filling up your ass for later] and when his guests show up, you'd be nice and spread out on the desk, bound appropriately - legs bent and tied spread wide open, wrists cuffed above you, collared, tits tied. Maybe a nice fat gag in your mouth but the boys will more than likely want to make use of that.

They wouldn't even waste time with drinks first, just grab a beer or a mixer and gather round the desk so they can take advantage of the table setting. The fleshlight inside you is thick, but a cock sliding inside the slit in your shorts and stuffing deep into it makes it even girthier, swelling up and filling you out until you shudder at the stretch. Your dom sits by and watches them enjoy his pet, instructing them to be rougher or go deeper now and then, telling them to pinch your nipples and spank you, even to give your collar a tight little tug.

Eventually he would tell one of them to remove your gag and take advantage of your mouth too, and then suddenly you have two girthy, sizeable cocks at either end, one buried into your fake cunt and blasting off a load inside you, the other being forced down into your throat and fucking away fast and hard. You gag and choke, but can't move, clenching and bucking whenever he goes balls deep and cuts off your air. He'd hold you there, too, keeping you locked in position while he presses deep and strokes your throat bulge, pulling at your collar, all in all making you desperate to breathe, while the other guys have swapped out at your cunt and a new cock is slamming into you.

Eventually they have to let you breathe, though, so he yanks back out of your mouth in one motion, still stroking so he can cum all over your chest while you're still getting your breath back, making a mess of your pretty bound tits, all tight and swollen and purple.

Another replaces him quickly, this time a girl with a pretty skirt, perfect to lift up and drop over your face so she can reach under it and guide her cock into your slick mouth, like a little secret. She pounds you just as relentlessly as the first one, plugging your nose from the beginning to keep you from breathing between thrusts and keeping you in the dark under her skirt until she cums. Maybe a little extra rough, releasing your nose once she's pressed to the bases then wrapping her hands around your pretty throat and squeezing until she's finished pouring seed down your throap, then pulling out again to watch you gasp and drool.

The process repeats until every guest has emptied themselves into you or cum using your body, and then they get to be reminded of who properly owns you when your dom scoops you up to haul to the bathroom. He strips off the shorts and the rope and bindings until you're dazed and relaxed and everyone can admire how wrecked you are while your dom fucks your ass as his final round, a content sloppy mess being railed into oblivion on the shower floor.

After hour 6 or so you come in to a babbling mess as i beg you to just fuck me already. You oblidge, turning me over and shoving your bare cock deep in my ass while i scream out. The jiggling of the cups offering no pleasure as you rape my tight asshole.

Youre getting close and i start begging you to please please just take the cups off and touch me, i want to cum so bad to ease some if the pain. You laugh at my desperate state. Pulling out of my ass and fulfilling my wish, releasing my huge swollen nipples and cunt to the open air, i groan out of a mix of pain and relief. Thanking you before i see you grab a spider gag. I resit but you slip it into my mouth so i cant complain when you do exactly what i asked.

You start spanking me, hard. All over my bloated drooling cunt and thick disgusting nipples. I scream out in agony but cant tell you to stop through the gag. Speaking of, you reposition your still hard cock over my face, dragging its precum covered tip up and down my now drool covered visage before fucking down into my throat without any buildup. Pounding my little whore mouth while you keep abusing my swollen body. You pull my nipples as far as theyll go, fitting as many clamps as possible on them while you twist and yank their now obscene shape. You do the same to my fat little clit, my body twisting and wretching in pain everytime the abused nub is touched, which it will be since youve also just grabbed a flogger. You bring it down hard on what used to be able to be called a pussy, but is now just a drolling mound that jiggles obscenely when you hit it. I gag and choke on your cock every time you wind up and let loose a hit. Occasionally you stop to lean in and inspect it. Cupping it or pulling the thick lips back to hear them wetly clap together when you release them.