xxxo

“It’s okay, just keep drinking! Once you push through feeling dizzy, the buzz will come back even better!” God, you’re so easy to manipulate. And now, I have you. Drunk, disoriented, your lack of both sense and judgement letting me lead you into my car to drive you home.

You’re slumped over in the passenger seat as I drive, barely noticing that my hand is resting on your thigh the entire ride. Slowly moving up and down your leg, pulling your skirt upwards, it’s not until I’m almost touching between your legs that you start feeling uncomfortable. It’s more on instinct than from conscious effort that you try and push me away. I could easily fight off your weak, protesting hands, but I let myself be pushed off. I don’t want you to raise your guard too much. Not yet.

Despite my wandering hands, you let me lead you to your front door when we arrive at your home. The streetlight is out. I thank my lucky star for that; less risk of anyone seeing my face. Under the cover of darkness, I support you as we make our way to your place. By now you’re so dizzy that you’ve had to lean against me every step of the way from the car to your entrance, unable to stand or walk by yourself.

“Let me take care of that,” I say when you try to fumble your keys from your handbag to unlock the entrance. Taking your keys shifts the dynamic even more in my favor, you no longer have control even over your own front door. Once we’re inside the hallway, I throw away all pretense and restraint. Your arm is still around me as I lead you stumbling towards your room, held in place by my hand around your wrist. My other hand goes from your back down to your ass, caressing and grabbing at you. I'm already so fucking hard.

Your room is dark when we go inside, and I'm barely able to get you to your bed with how messy your floor is. Either this is how it always looks, or you tried on a lot of different outfits for tonight. Regardless, your clothes are what got you into this mess. The short dress you're wearing caught my attention the moment I saw you, and the insecure look in your eyes is what made you into a target. My target.

I put you down onto your stomach over the edge of the bed. Your legs dangle down, feet touching the floor but doing very little to help support you. I can already feel the need to have my hands on your body, wanting to touch you, have you underneath me, but I'm in no rush. I'm going to make this perfect.

"Stay right there, princess." It's not like you'd be able to move very far, but I like to keep a conversation with you going, keep you with me. I don't mind you passing out, but I'd rather have you awake, at least for the first few moments. I want you to know what is happening to you, what will keep happening to you throughout the night. I caress your ass briefly before I leave you there as I go to turn on the lights. Darkness might have been my friend outside, but in here I want to see you.

You're down on the floor when I get back to you, trying to crawl away into a corner. Trying to hide from me. This is… annoying. I gave you clear instructions to stay where you are.

"No, no, princess." My hand is in your hair, grabbing a fistful of it to force your head back, moving you so that you're looking at me when I talk to you. "I told you to stay." A hard slap lands on your cheek, the rings on my fingers leaving their marks. Tears immediately form in your eyes, a whimper escapes you. "I'm sorry to hurt you, love. But I need you to listen." Still holding onto your hair, I stand in front of you and unbuckle my belt. I'm already so fucking hard. I give you another hard slap across the face before putting myself right before your face, stroking myself on you. Precum is smeared on your face as I move the tip of my cock over your soft skin, painting you to be my slut.

"Open your mouth. Open your goddamn mouth for me, you fucking whore. That's it. All the way. Good." Perhaps my palm hitting your cheek helped make you obedient, or perhaps you really are just a slut. Or maybe you're just so out of it, you simply follow any command because it's easier. Either way you follow my instructions, opening your mouth all the way. I put my tip between your lips, tightening the grip I have on your hair, and start to move your head, filling your mouth with my cock, pressing it against your soft tongue.

As I watch you on your knees, lips wrapped around me, I can't help but get rougher. Forcing your head down on me, pushing myself deeper down to the back of your throat. You start to gag, tears start to run from your eyes, drooling from the corners of your mouth. God, you look like such a whore right now. And fuck, you're making me feel so good.

I keep moving forward, pushing you backwards against the wall, trapping you even further. The corner where you tried to escape, to hide, is now used against you. Unable to move your head backwards I start thrusting, fucking your mouth, choking you with my cock.

"Look at me, slut. That's it, open your eyes. Good girl. Fuck, you look so pretty right now. Like a proper slut. Hold still now."

Your face is a mess when I pull myself back, already feeling how I'm close to cumming. Again, I tell you to open your mouth, stroking myself onto you when you do as I say, before taking a step back. I move you back to the bed, once again throwing you over the edge of it.

I turn you over onto your back, your ass just at the edge. Your limp legs, knees red from kneeling on the floor, are spread when I move myself in between them. Your dress is not as much removed as hiked up around your waist, exposing you to the room. I move my hand to touch your cunt, barely covered by a slutty pair of panties; I knew you went out wanting to get fucked. What a little whore.

My usual instinct is to take my time, to drag the process out, but I find myself in a hurry now. A growing need to fuck you, to use you. There's no process when I move your legs up on my shoulders, slide your panties to the side and press myself against you, lubed up with your spit and drool. I lean in over you, my hand holding you down by the throat, the weight of me forcing your body back onto the mattress.

A hard thrust, and I'm inside. I see your eye go wide, your hands gripping the sheets from the sensation of me stretching you out on my cock. It takes a moment for your fuzzy brain to register what is happening, for the realization to sink in. Your face changes, your hands let go of the sheets, going for weak attempts at pushing me of.

I thrust into you harder.

"Shush, princess. Don't try and fight me." My voice goes lower, tone becomes one of danger. Becomes a warning. "I'll have to hurt you again."

With that, you go limp, your hands fall down beside you. Resigned, your head slumps to the side.

"No no no, princess." I turn your head back towards me. "I need you to focus on me." My hand goes to your face, thumb on one cheek, fingers on the other, forcing you to look at me, towering above you. I keep thrusting like that, cock going deep inside you as you're held in place. You're my toy, my little plaything. And gods, you feel so fucking good.

My eyes are locked with yours when I speed up, pounding into your tight little cunt, holding you down underneath me. I know you won't fight if I let go, but I like holding you down, like the feeling of pinning you underneath my hands. Your face is a mess, red from my slapping, make-up running from where you've cried, saliva and precum smeared all over your cheeks. Fuck. I'm going to cum.

"Mmmh you're going to make me cum, princess. God, you look like a filthy fucking slut, I'm going to fill you up. Look at me, whore. That's right. That's better. Do as you're told, what you're made for. Fuck... My filthy little whore, I'm going to cum inside you. Gonna breed you. Fuck."

My hands tighten around you where they grip as I push deep inside, holding myself there. Cock pulsing, twitching with my release, I fill you with both it and with my cum.

Still holding you in place with my weight on top of you, I bring out my phone to take a picture of you. Your messed up face, your hiked up dress. I give you another gratuitous slap, getting some of the color back on your cheeks for the camera.

I keep it out when I pull myself back off of you, keep it aimed at you when I drag you down from off the bed. Film you when I force you to clean me up with your tongue, when I grow hard again inside your mouth.

This time, I don't hold back. I fuck your face until I cum all over it, marking you with it. It runs down your cheeks, drips from off your chin when I force you to drink even more, documenting the process as you eventually pass out from the alcohol. I spend the entire night abusing you, recording it for you.

You wake up the next morning, confused and with body aching, covered in bruises and cum. You're a filthy fucking mess, full of marks that helps you fill in the blanks of what has happened to you throughout the night.

---

"Awake already, princess?"

I watch you from a chair on the other side of the room. Putting my coffee down on the desk next to me, I stand up and make my way over to where you lie. I sit down next to you, put you in my lap. I know you'd probably protest, but your mind is still hazy from the drinks, the hangover making you slow and pliable.

As I move my hand between your legs, touching your sore clit, I take out my phone and open up the gallery. As the sun rises outside the window, I keep touching you while you watch yourself get abused, making you cum to the videos and pictures I took during the night. When I'm done, you're a shaking mess on my lap, mind completely blank, fresh drool covering your chin. I put you back down on the bed, tuck you in under the covers, stroke the strands of hair that has been sticking to your face behind your ear. A small kiss is planted on your head.