*You with a tumblr moot you just met

The sub in a green uniform with a million patches, brown belt, their boots scratched and stained by mud that hardened before it could be washed off. They lie on the cold concrete floor of some military base's basement with their hands handcuffed behind their back, their face touching the floor as theyre waking up after being knocked out and brought here by enemy soldiers. I want to be the first thing they see when they open their eyes. My uniform in perfect shape, latex pencil skirt, a long leather trenchcoat and my perfect little heals, their many clasps and buckles hugging the arch of my feet and my ankles, not even as much as a speck of dust on them, my gloved hands impatiently bending a horsewhip. Our areas of expertise couldn't be any more different. An on field soldier versus a professional torturer. While you starve and roll in the dirt every day wondering if you'll survive to see the next, pricks like me sit around silently begging for some enemy soldier to be brought in so we can put them through the most disgusting, inhumane torture in the name of serving our country. Your higher ups warned you about the tactics used in such places.

You know why you're here. I need to know what you're planning next. And you know if you can last a little over 7 days, a mere 170 hours, if you keep your mouth shut, you will have successfully saved your friends and colleagues' lives. What's a few days? You've been through worse, you can handle pain if it means keeping your country safe. Just a week until this very base gets raided and the sickeningly sadistic motherfucker across from you gets exactly what he deserves. That's until you realise your legs are being kept apart by a spreader bar. Turns out my country has figured out the best way to get information out of people is to deprive them of their sexual agency. Plain old rape. You don't remember your generals warning you about that. What now. Before you can fully register the severity of the situation you feel the tip of my shoe press against your clothed cunt.

The next few days are a blur. You don't get a single minute of sleep. No food either. An open mouth gag is forced on you. You are violated in every way possible by your interrogator. His gloved hands fuck your mouth and holes. Your muscular arms and thighs are squeezed and massaged over your uniform. You are never fully stripped. While your uniform is unbuttoned, your dog tag hanging between your pecs, so your torturer can pinch your nipples, and your pants are permanently stuck around your knees, a big hole on your underwear, for easy access, it is not removed. Maybe to remind you why all this is happening to you. You're on the wrong side, buddy. Toys are forced inside your cunt. Sometimes two in the same hole, painfully stretching you. Of course you're not allowed to cum during any of this. You've lost count of how many times you've been edged, your dick is swollen, throbbing and begging for release. A release you know won't come.

By day two you're already begging for water. Instead, your interrogator pisses in your mouth. It's unfathomably disgusting but you quickly learn that if you plan on staying alive, you need to take whatever you're given.

You are brutalised again and again. Nipple clambs are put on you and are not ever removed. You are spat on, punched in the stomach, slapped across your face, your hair is pulled, your cunt is kicked, you swear you have at least 2 broken ribs. There's not a single part of your body your torturer has not put out a cigarette on. He sits on you and exhales all the smoke right in your face as you cough. Disgusting habit, you can't wait to see this filthy pig dead, or even better- on his knees begging you to stop as you subject him to the exact same torture he's putting you through. But for now, you're reduced to an animal, less than a dog.

Your torturer is particularly sadistic for some reason. It makes you wonder if people are born like that or if they're made into monsters later on. The way he grins while you writhe in pain beneath him is sickening. He's enjoying every second of this. He loves showing off, spreading all his tools in front of you before describing exactly what he's going to do. And the worst part is that clickety clacking of his heals is slowly driving you insane. Not exactly in a bad way. Quite the opposite. Before he even opens the door of your cell, you can tell he's approaching. Whenever you hear the sound of his shoes your hole starts leaking with anticipation.. This is bad.

When your interrogator isn't around you are left tied on a breeding bench, to be used by the enemy soldiers as a fleshlight. The men you so desperately tried to kill cumming inside of you again and again. And they simply can't get enough of you. You're reduced to a toy for all the soldiers in the military base. Your uniform still on, obviously, but instead of feeling pride you feel rage. All those medals and ribbons have brought you nothing but pain and your comrades are nowhere to be seen. You remind yourself you need to be patient. They will come and you will be saved.

Somewhere along the line it all goes wrong. You don't know what happened. Maybe your training just wasn't enough, maybe you are weak mentally after all. You don't know how or why but at some point, during a particularly long edging session, your brain short circuits. Maybe it's because of his latex gloves against your cock or maybe because the vibrating egg in your hole has been going on for a little too long or maybe because you're fucking tired of suffering for a country that doesn't give a fuck whether you live or die. You tell him everything. Who knows how many days it's been. Maybe it's too late and they won't be able to prepare for the raid in time. In any case, you failed. The enemy has successfully broken your brain.

Maybe I come to the party as a guest as well. But they keep giving me more alcohol until I'm pliant and limp.

First, they force me on my knees in the bathroom. The floor is already dirty and sticky from piss and the dirt of everyone's shoes. But I'm made to strip and kneel right there with my naked cunt on the dirty piss floor while they tie my hands up against the wall behind me and use me as a human urinal.

Soon, there's piss all over me and my cunt makes squelching noises on the floor when I move. People come in and don't even question why I'm there, just unzip their pants and use me how I'm meant to be. They keep pouring alcohol down my throat as well to keep me fucked up. My eyes are fluttering closed sometimes as I pass out intoxicated but the next warm stream of piss hitting my face is making me wake right up and obediently open my mouth.

When they get bored of using me as a piss pig, they hose me down and bring me into the the main area. The room is huge and packed with people dancing, talking, having fun. It is incredibly loud and the coloured lights are going crazy. I cannot even comprehend what is happening at this point.

There's a table to the side of the room and they position me there and tie my legs up to a spreader bar hanging above. My cunt is on display for everyone. My head hangs over the edge of the table and immediately someone takes advantage of my mouth hanging open and shoves their cock down my throat. I choke but they don't care, stroking themselves off through my throat.

Someone else shoves right into my pussy and I can't even get my muscles to tense I'm so drunk. They immediately start fucking me hard, making my head get shoved deeper onto the cock in my throat. I am soon filled with cum on both ends. Other guests immediately take their places and start filling me up as well, drinks still in their hands, one of them chatting to his friend while he thrusts deep and deeper inside my cunt, pushing the other's load in.

I pass out at some point but people keep fucking my limp body. When I come to again, I am covered in cum. My entire body is wet and glistening. Someone shoved a beer bottle up my cunt. There's hatchmarks on my body showing me how many loads I have taken.

Like you couldn’t do it to yourself, even if you tried. And that turns me on. Knowing I have complete control over you. Holding your hips down as I continue to suck and lick at your most sensitive parts, getting off on how loud your sobs get due to the torturous mix of pain and pleasure.

The first time was the hardest. Holding his cunt open for hours, teasing and slapping and edging, but never giving him enough to cum outright. I chanted [the three words] over and over, only when he wasn't being touched. Finally, he came, shuddering and whining. Afterwards he said "that was torture"

But after that, the words were in there. All I had to do was continue training. And it was easy, because cumming was its own reward. Such a powerful chemical load, his poor little brain had no chance.

Sometimes I'd repeat the words while forcing him to cum on my strap, or greedily eating his cunt and sucking on his cock. Sometimes I'd stop fucking them, pull out, and make them repeat the words until they came for me.

Honestly, I expected these orgasms to be little things, useless shudders and trembles that wouldn't feel as good as my hands, my cock, my mouth. I thought this would be a fun little party trick, a technicality.

But god was I wrong. We were recently at a show, and I dragged him into a bathroom stall with me. We only had a few moments-- so I rubbed them over their pants and simply whispered the words. One of the first times I tried this without getting him desperately aroused first. I was ready for it not to work, but he came so hard his knees buckled, they had to bite on my shoulder to muffle their screams...

Since then, all bets are off. Each time I repeat all three words, he immediately crumbles into waves of eye-rolling pleasure . Sometimes cumming more than once, one crashing into the other. I'll make him repeat just the first word every time he takes a hit off the bong-- letting them leak puddles in anticipation. The other day when I was grinding my pierced tdick against his, after cumming countless times he begged me: Daddy, I need my special words

chew toys are so much fun when they have squeakers inside