Free Use Pet, please use to your heart's content

turned into a neocunt

permanently in a chastity cage

used to fuck neocunts

you think it's over for a moment when she lifts up her foot, giving you just a second to breathe a sigh of relief.

then she lands the first kick. it's deep, quick and painful, like being jabbed with a blunt object. you groan without meaning to. another shot to your sides, hard enough to topple you over this time. you can hear how much she loves it when she giggles at your body curling into the fetal position. she snaps at you to get on your back, punctuating the demand with a kick to your thighs.

you don't realize you've been squeezing your eyes shut until she bends down to strike your face and ask if you're still awake. she's always been a sucker for the fear in your eyes, and you know it. this time, you watch her lift her leg and expect the worst, body tensing on instinct. she lands the sole of her boot in the lower center of your stomach and you let out a sound you didn't even know your body could make, a guttural and low moan full of both lust and anguish.

then you feel it.

the heel of her boot now, digging directly into your bladder. by now, you usually know better than to tell her to stop, but the new and intense sensation causes you to whimper and rasp out pleas for mercy. you stumble over your words as you pointlessly repeat chants of "please, stop, I don't want to make a mess, you'll be mad at me, please stopstopstop-" until you break. until you feel the warmth spread through your underwear and down your legs, puddling underneath your ass.

The chair under you is dreadfully uncomfortable. Heavy, wooden, high backed, no padding. You’ve been tied to it several times before, but tonight is different. There are no toys waiting to be used on your exposed body; just the rope binding you to your seat. Tonight I’ve taken far more time than usual securing your wrists and ankles. 

“Jewelry is another one people often jump for.  Wedding rings of course, but imagine instead a solid silver bracelet. Something engraved and hand crafted, fit to your wrist just perfectly. Thick enough you’d feel the weight with every movement of your arm. Think how often your hands and wrists are in your vision. You’d always see it, always remember that moment I first slipped it on. And even if it did manage to drift from your attention, someone’s bound to comment on its beauty and draw you back.”

“There are less considered options. You have things like perfumes, or clothing. Picking out how you dress out on the town, what you’ll wear to work, or what you’ll smell like. Each of them, large or small dictating how other people perceive you. I think that’s a fascinating degree of power to be given over a person.”

When I place the butane torch on my work table you begin to squirm.  You can’t help yourself, I understand. Anxiety and fear causes every animal to find the boundaries of its leash. You however have nowhere to go, bound as you are. I start the flame before I dial in the heat. You watch in open fascination.

“My favorites are the permanent kind, or at least the nearly permanent. Maybe a tattoo on your hip that every one of your future lovers will see when they kiss their way down your body? Or maybe I’d like it a little higher. Tucked up near your collar bone. You’d see it only when you look in the mirror but you’d have to change your entire wardrobe.  Either to hide it in shame or expose it to everyone you meet. Regardless I’m still dictating that control over you, forcing you to consider every future outfit choice. Even if you do decide to hide it you’ll have to show it off to some future partner. You’ll have to either explain the truth to them and watch the emotions play across their face, or lie to them. Break a vow of trust between you both because you couldn’t handle the alternative.”

“Where all those fail is their impermanence. Collars are made to be removed. Perfume can be washed off.  Jewellery gets taken off before every scene. Even tattoos can be covered up, or naturally fade with time.”

I’ve put my back to you, my body blocking your view of the flame and whatever I was doing. Heavy boxes are opened, the sounds of metal hitting metal mixing with the roar of the torch. Smells you can’t place start to reach your nose as the torch warms something.

“Scars though? There’s one of my favorite ways to mark someone. This part of you, maybe even the whole of you, was unblemished before you met me. Now it’s imperfect. Changed. You’re just a little less whole, a little different than you were before and you’ll never escape that knowledge body or mind.”

“The impact of my intrusion on your life should leave physical consequences, don’t you think?”

In one hand you can see me holding the softly glowing length of a cattle brand, the air around the tip shimmering from the heat. Faintly you can make out the first initial of my name woven into the design of the metal.

“Just like I taught you, breathe through the pain baby.”

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she had looked so pretty. she made your nerves disappear as you both flirted and made small talk. you liked the way she smiled. she liked the way she didn't even have to get you drunk to get you in her car. all it took was offering up a night cap and you were buckling into her passenger seat...at least that's the last memory that plays before you recall the warm, damp rag going over your mouth and nose. you remember flailing around in a way you're almost embarrassed about now.

the car jolts to a stop. even blinded by the cloth over your eyes, you look around on instinct. the driver hums low before she starts speaking.

"I'm going to open the door, and you're not going to run. wanna know why?"

you don't say anything. you don't nod or shake your head. you feel your lip start to quiver, which pulls a laugh out of her.

"this is why."

a round object touches the center of your chest. she spins the barrel and you recognize the sound. if you had been unsure, the click of the trigger confirmed it. for a split second, you felt prepared to die. but what happens instead is...nothing.

"that was a warning shot. don't get cocky."

she rolls her eyes as you start tearing up in fear, the streaks rolling down your cheeks beyond the blindfold. you hear the creak of the car door from the driver's side, and by the time she's made her way over to your seat you're fully sobbing. she mocks your panic as she yanks you out of the car, letting you hit the dirt flat and knocking the wind out of your lungs in the process. the choking sound you make as you try to catch your breath is met with her wrapping your hair into her fist as she coos over how cute you sound for her already. she pulls you up by your hair and tosses you over the hood of the car. you feel her start grinding against your ass.

"I'm too fucking turned on to keep driving. and now that I've got you, I've gotta start putting you to good use. stay still."

she tears off your pants and underwear, the sudden exposure making you shudder and whimper. you hear the clink of her belt buckle and the unzipping of pants. you're shaking from the crying, which gets you two kicks to the back of each leg and a demand to shut up. two fingers drag along your cunt and come away sticky, and you hear the sound of her laugh bubbling up again. the same two fingers suddenly find themselves inside you, dragging along the sides of your hole. she tsks, like something about it is disappointing to her.

you're ashamed under her gaze, feeling too vulnerable and afraid and turned on to say anything. you swear she can sense all of the emotions fighting inside of you, especially when she lines up her cock against you before pressing her full weight onto your back, leaning against your ear and speaking in a whisper.

"you're going to hate this, and that's okay."

a kiss on your cheek and the burning stretch of her cock as she pushes into you. it hurts.

"but you need this. I know you do."

your complete inability to move under her weight makes it worse. you worry you'll cum.

"even if you didn't need it, I need it."

she's wrapping one hand around your throat and the other is digging nail marks into your ass. you hope she leaves bruises, and the nausea hits you harder in shame.