He dragged me into the kitchen by my hair last night and bent me over the counter like a worthless piece of fuckmeat. “Time to see what a pathetic, degraded little hole you really are,” he said, already laughing at how wet my cunt was getting.
He started with the thick wooden spoon handle, forcing it in raw and dry. It scraped my walls painfully as he twisted it deep. I just moaned like a brainless slut, whispering, “I’m such a disgusting whore for letting you use kitchen shit on me…”
The second I came, he switched to a thick, bumpy carrot straight from the fridge. He rammed it in brutally, laughing as my legs shook. “Look at you creaming on a vegetable like a cheap farm whore.” My face burned with shame, but I couldn’t stop my cunt from clenching.
Next came the ridged handle of my hairbrush. He stretched me open so wide it burned, pounding it in and out while pressing down on my belly. “Your worthless fuckhole is actually swallowing it. What a nasty, ruined bitch you are.”
Then he forced the neck of the empty wine bottle inside me. The cold glass popped past my swollen lips and my lower belly started bulging visibly with every thrust. He kept one hand pressing hard on the obscene swell, making sure I felt how deep he was wrecking me. “You can see the shape of a fucking bottle in your guts. Only a pathetic cumrag like you would get off on this.”
The real humiliation came with the weirder objects.
He grabbed a frozen banana, still half in its peel for extra roughness, and worked it into my sore cunt. The intense cold made me cry out as my walls clenched painfully around it. My tummy swelled up even more. He pounded it deep while mocking me: “Frozen fruit in your sloppy hole. You’re not even a person anymore — just a filthy kitchen toy.”
He followed it with the thick tube of mint toothpaste. He squeezed some out inside me first so the burning menthol stung my raw, abused walls while the hard plastic stretched me wider. “Feel that? Even your cunt is so pathetic it gets chemically burned and still leaks like a broken faucet.”
After that he taped three thick permanent markers together and forced the bundle inside me, stretching me painfully. Then came the handle of my hairdryer — heavy, awkward, and humiliating. And finally the thick, knobby cob of corn. Each new object made my belly bulge grotesquely as he railed me with it.
“Look at your stomach, you disgusting whore,” he growled, slapping the visible swell. “It’s swelling up like you’re pregnant with our kitchen trash. Say it.”
“I’m a disgusting whore…” I whimpered, voice broken and humiliated. “My cunt is so worthless it gets ruined by random household objects and I cum like a stupid animal…”
By the end I was a drooling, tear-streaked, brain-melted mess. My cunt was raw, puffy, and gaping wide open. He made me spread my legs and look at the damage while he laughed at how destroyed I was — leaking all over the floor like a used-up fucktoy.
I’m still sore and throbbing today, barely able to sit without feeling how stretched and ruined my hole is. Every movement reminds me what a pathetic, degraded, filthy little kitchen whore I am for enjoying it.
I deserve to be used even worse next time.
