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Feeling the urge to ruin your holes. Getting some dildos that are way to fucking big for your little holes and training you to take every inch of them. Fucking you with them every day until it’s the new norm and what you need to get off.
Then suddenly going back to small and regular sized dildos. Knowing it’s not enough for you. You Need to be stretched now.
So with you tied to the bed, bent over, ass up high for me. I put in one dildo and laugh as you whine and beg for more. But I don’t get the bigger dildo that you now love. No, I get another normal dildo and push that in with the first. I fuck you with both of them, but it’s still not enough. You need to be painfully stretched. Your cunt is broken now after all. You need so much more. So I get another dildo and push that one in as well.
Now three cocks are fucking your loose broken hole and it’s still not enough. It’s close, but not right where you Need it.
So I get the last one and force it in. With four dildos at the same time I fuck your ruined hole and don’t stop till you squirt so hard they get pushed out as I laugh at you for being a broken whore.
need to be chained to a radiator and raped all night, getting my tight leaky cunt stuffed by fat cocks forcing their way inside of me until my hole's puffy and swollen and well broken in. i want to be ignored and talked over while they use me as their fleshlight. i want people to laugh at me when i whine about being cold and sore. i'm just their fuckmeat. my comfort doesn't matter. their satisfaction does.
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using my lil slut to make money for me.....sure, of course, there’s plenty of in-person opportunities - bending you over and spreading your legs in a bar and taking cash, or renting you out for private events....but what about for the poor souls who can’t use you in person?
setting up an account to post videos and audios of my baby getting ruined, and being able to use that money to buy more toys (it’s not cheap having a little whore who needs their holes stretched!) but holding the camera close to get every whimper and plea and tear and making you fuck yourself on their toys, sobbing about being a good little cam star, about how much you love this, about how you never want to stop.
maybe, i’ll even take suggestions from commenters. reading allowed cruel punishments and watching the helpless tears start up again, but you know better than to misbehave - the video where i punished you is by far our most popular and people are dying to see you so pathetic and humiliated for their entertainment <3
spank my cunt until it’s bruised and swollen. make me lie on my back and hold myself open for you. every slap making me shriek and sob. my cunt red and hot to the touch.
fuck my ass after. no stretching, just enough lube to push your strap in. my asshole strains around the girth and it burns and i scream. fuck me from behind and let the balls on your strap graze my agonized cunt when you bottom out. the touch torture on my burning skin.
make me watch the video you took of my torture after. mock me for crying. point out how greedily my asshole took your cock, how wet my cunt was after the beating it took.
it’s a sign, you tell me. that i want my pussy tortured. it was dripping wasn’t it? that i should take a bigger strap. didn’t your hole take the last one easily? you assure me you’ll hurt me more next time.
he spreads my legs almost cruelly wide, leaving the most private parts of my body exposed and vulnerable. i hear whispers and gasps, someone complimenting the jeweled plug that's been sitting inside of me so long, it has warmed up to my body temperature. he pulls at the base, makes my ass fight to keep it inside. the widest part stretches my rim and he holds it in position for a while, until everyone has gotten a good look at my abused hole. then he pushes the plug back inside. he ignores the wetness of my pussy, just spreads and holds me open so that everyone can examine the swollen, red nub sitting between my folds. the hours of teasing it and pumping it this morning have left my clit sensitive, raw and aching, so when he drags his thumb through my wetness and starts circling my clit, i scream. the strong hands holding my arms and legs apart never allow me to go far, so i am helpless to be played with. he rubs my clit expertly, playing my body like an instrument. within seconds, i am close. my breath turns shallow - maybe i can steal one orgasm if i am quiet about it, if i don't let him see how incredibly close i am - but the second i edge, the pressure of his thumb disappears. i cry and beg, broken and loud now, but the stimulation doesn't return until i have fully calmed down. the room watches as i get edged again and again, get turned into a begging, leaking mess. i can hear people getting off to my suffering, messy gags and chokes around cock, the huffs and moans of someone stroking themselves, quiet whines as someone gets fucked against the back wall. my own pleasure and ache is roaring through my body, dripping out of me, getting coerced from me with professional touches. i have long lost count of how many edges these expert fingers have wrung from my sore clit. eventually, someone pulls out the plug and replaces it with cock, and my asshole burns as it stretches around the familiar intrusion. now i'm getting fucked and edged at the same time, and it's almost too much, i feel myself black out for seconds at a time. more fingers start to probe at me, touching and pinching and teasing me, relentlessly. only when everyone in the room except me is satisfied, the torture stops. the chastity belt is locked around my waist, cool and protective against my overheated skin. my hands are tied, the blindfold slipped over my eyes removed, and i blink against the cruel lights. my boss is there with his wife. some coworkers, some people from my yoga class. the barista from the coffee shop where i get my coffee every morning. the mailman, someone i recognize from the bank, two neighbors. they've all seen me get edged, they've all cum to my suffering. two of my best friends step into my view, and my denied pussy weeps with the knowledge that i begged for this, that i wanted everyone in my life to know what a slut i am, and that i cannot make them see me differently anymore.
You were walking down the street when you caught your reflection in a store window and stopped. The way he made you dress, modestly but pretty. The requirement to wear heels. That you weren't allowed to leave the house without your hair and make up done. The ballet and modeling classes. The emphasis on you being soft. It had all come together.
You moved gracefully. You moved with softness. The smile on your face went all of the way to your eyes. It all began to click. Why people have been so much nicer for you. Why men would hold doors so far away. Or reach things on high shelves for you. Women were nicer to you. You were radiating softness, femininity, and happiness.
You were a little ray of pretty sunshine. And people responded to that. Your husband shaped you into it. You loved being made into exactly what he wants, but it was also pleasing to know that what he wants makes the world a little happier.
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I just changed out of my shirt, tie, and white coat - what I usually wore when I did most of my standard visits and pelvic exams - and into my purple scrubs. I wore these when I’d be performing procedures or had other concerns about possible “splash over” - you know, bodily fluids that might squirt or otherwise stain my normal clothes.
Walking into the procedure room I saw my staff getting the final preparations completed. “So, how’s our patient doing today? All ready to get started?” I asked her.
“Mmmnnnnggghhhmnn!!!” she replied. Loudly. Well. Shouting might be a better term. Screaming, better yet. “I’m sorry kiddo, it’s a little hard to hear you through the gag, so I’ll just take that for an enthusiastic yes!” She cried out more and strained and struggled against the straps that tightly held her waist, torso, and extremities in place. “Such enthusiasm! I know, I know, I’m excited to get started too!” I said as I rolled up between her spread legs, her shaved pelvic area on front of me - properly draped - and ready for my skilled hands to do what they did best.
My assistant handed me a pair of gloves, but I handed them back immediately.
“No no, I need the long ones today. The obstetrical ones. That’s right,” I confirmed as she handed me a different pair. Sitting in my place between her legs, I began to don the gloves. The stretching and snapping sounds as I pulled them tightly over my hands were loud and attention getting, but my patient’s eyes truly began to widen as she saw me sitting there pulling the gloves far past my wrists and up my forearms.
“Now, let’s take a peek and see what we’re working with, shall we?” I asked rhetorically as I reached towards her vulva.
“Nmmmmghhaa!” she cried out again as she felt my finger first slide between her inner labia. “Shhh, it’s okay sweetums, just some touching right now,” I reassured her. Her cries calmed down, replaced by mere sobs, quiet whimpers, and occasional gasps of surprise as she felt my touch in places that … well … she wasn’t anticipating.
After another minute or two of closely examining her externally and around her introitus, I informed the room that it was time to begin. My assistant took her place by the patient’s head, calming, reassuring, and caressing her hair and brushing the loose strands out of her face. “It’ll all be over soon, you can trust your doctor, he’ll be very professional and as quick as he can be without causing any more pain or damage than absolutely necessary!”
As I inserted my third finger insider her vagina, the alarm on the patient’s face was beginning to increase. She squirmed a bit, but was mostly calm. The fourth finger triggered her a little bit as she tried in vain to pull away from my hand. “You’ll feel my thumb begin to push inside you now, kiddo, then lots of pressure, mkay?” She started to strain against the leather straps again at this point, but to no avail.
She had nowhere to go. There was no escape, no solace, but to simply experience what was happening until it was over. However long that might take.
As my hand pushed deeper and deeper, the base knuckles from all of my fingers and thumb finally slipping past her opening, I could feel her muscles tighten up as though they might be able to prevent this forceful violation. “This is the hard part now, so I want you to tighten up for a couple of seconds, hard as you can, then relax, okay? On the count of three, give a good, hard, squeeze…."
Her eyes were practically popping out of their sockets. They darted to either side, up, in all directions, as if she might find an escape route, but … there was none.
“One…"
“Nmmmnnnnghhh!” The pleading in her eyes was delicious.
“Two…"
Her head started shaking back and forth violently, trying to signal a rejection of the inevitable.
“Three — squeeze for me!” She screamed out as she also did as she was told. I could feel her pelvic floor and all the muscles in that area clench and squeeze against my fingers and knuckles.
“And stop….relax now, kiddo, your job’s all done…”
My assistant held the patient’s face between her two hands, cooing her pride and support, as I pushed the rest of my hand into the poor girl’s almost virginal vaginal vault. She bucked and cried, screaming, into the gag. She tried to pull back, uselessly, the restraints holding her right where I wanted her to be. Finally, my entire hand was inside her. I couldn’t see more than an inch or so past my wrist, everything else enveloped with her tight, hot, stretched vagina.
“The doctor’s going to start the stretching exercises now, so go ahead and cry out as much as you need to, okay? Just let it out, and before you know it the next fifteen minutes will all just be a bad memory!” instructed my assistant.
I smiled as I squeezed my narrowed, inserted hand into a fist and began to move it about, carefully connecting the small movements I made to the shrill sounds coming out of her mouth and strained, panicked attempts to pull out of her restraints.
“I think we might need to reschedule her rectal stretching for later in the week. I have a feeling this will take a lot out of her, and I’d hate for her to pass out from exhaustion mid-procedure,” I stated as I retracted and reinserted my hand yet again. I’d hate to be known as one of those doctors who didn’t care about my patient’s welfare...
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woke up thinking abt bending over to let someone release a morning pee into my belly @///@ and then they're immediately chugging more and a few hours later bending me over again to really make me feel the weight of their piss in my guts @///@ and they rub my poor noisy belly as it strains to hold it all... praising me for being a good toilet... and continuing to fill me up and make me feel stuffed with their piss all day... making my belly bulge and slosh and slowly swell throughout the day and they can tell me how good I look as a toilet as I moan and do my best to hold every last drop of their piss in me, trying to be the best toilet I can be for them... especially if I'm not allowed to piss myself, knowing that my bladder is getting larger and tighter with their piss, stuffing me to the limit in more than one way, becoming a good storage for all their piss, just the way a toilet should, especially as I lay back and let them rub my belly and bladder and do my best to keep it in all day long bc I wanna be full to the absolute brim of their piss... mmph pls it sounds so good @///@