I was thinking fast now, holding off panic. What the hell could I say? A few moment’s silence followed, but a sudden flash came to my mind. There was still a way to win. I stood, and dropped the ‘polite professor’ pose.
“Alright, Veronica. So now you know. And you’ve raced down here to save the day. Tell me, why do you think your daughter, who writes there that she doesn’t even like me, keeps coming here?”
She tried gamely to stand up to me. “I have absolutely no idea. But it must stop. Immediately.”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. You see, Veronica, Tammie keeps coming back here because there are certain … consequences … if she does not.”
“What do you mean, consequences?”
“Let me show you.” Veronica sat primly as I booted up my computer and opened a directory containing some of my many Tammie pics. I asked her over to my desk, and she stood behind me. On the screen, Tammie was smiling at the camera, apparently carefree and happy, dressed in a tight, short black skirt, red satin top, stockings and heels. I flicked through the first few poses quickly, and by the fifth or sixth, Tammie had lost her top and bra. As I continued to advance the pics, she stripped.
Veronica became more and more pale with each passing picture. By the time Tammie displayed a rather large purple dildo and began riding it, her mother was shaking with … fear? expectation? anger? I shut off the screen.
“Now, Veronica, Tammie wants these pictures kept private. And she knows that, for as long as she continues to be my on-call slut, she is safe.”
Veronica hissed. “How … DARE … you?”
I laughed. “I dare, Veronica. That’s all that matters. And I’ve kept my end of the bargain until tonight, when you had to butt in.”
She was still shaking. “How can we make you go away?”
“You can’t, Veronica. This situation will go on for as long as I decide. And the moment I am discovered, the moment my job or security is placed in jeopardy, these pictures - and several hours of videotape - go on the internet and to selected people in this community. So I’ll be ruined … but so will Tammie. And you.”
She sank back into the chair, sobbing quietly. Time to raise the stakes. “Until today, Veronica, things were going nicely. But now, Tammie has been stupid enough to keep a diary; you’ve been intrusive enough to read it; and you have also been stupid enough to come in here making demands. You’ve brought yourself into this situation. So now, you too have a choice. Either you join your daughter as another of my obedient little tarts, or I ruin your life. What will it be?”
She looked up, teary eyes wide with shock. “You can’t possibly be serious!”
I gave her a hard, nasty look. “Very serious, Veronica.”
“Can’t I just go? I’m unhappy about Tammie … miserable … but I don’t want to be part of this. Please let me go. Please?”
No chance. My expression didn’t alter, and my voice remained soft but determined. “Either you remove your blouse and bra right now, Veronica, or I go over to that computer there and show your daughter to the world. You decide, but do it quickly.”
She remained still, looking at me intently, searching for any hint of lenience, any chink in my armour. She found none, even though inside I was quivering with nerves. Slowly, she turned away, crying softly as her fingers found her buttons and undid them one by one. Still facing away, she slid the top off and unclipped her bra.
“Turn around, Veronica.”
She turned, arms crossed over her breasts, and found herself staring down the barrel of my camera lens. I snapped a photo before she could react - and react she did, spinning away from me with a yelp.
“Turn back to me, Veronica. Hands by your sides.”
Trembling, she slowly turned, took a deep breath, and lowered her hands. I took another photograph then set the camera aside. That was enough evidence for blackmail - time to have some fun. I took a long look at my new slut. Slightly larger, fuller breasts than Tammie’s. Veronica’s tits were ripe, where Tammie’s were pert. Little fat nipples promoted from dark areolas. Not bad at all.
I reached for them, gently sliding my thumbs over the nipples, feeling them harden at my touch. Her breathing deepened, and I suddenly realised the sobbing had subsided. I sat on the couch and drew her to me, standing between my knees. My head craned upwards slightly, and I took her left nipple into my mouth, sucking softly. The deeper breathing continued; the only sign she was enjoying this.
I let her nipple go and asked “How long since hubby played with these, Veronica?”
“None of your damned business”
I chuckled. “I should call and ask him.”
She panicked. “Months. It’s been months.”
Without another word I resumed sucking her nipples, teasing them bad. After a while, I used one free hand to unzip my pants, and slipped them down my legs. My cock was fully erect - I’d been having fun.
“Kneel down, Veronica.”
She shook her head. “No way … I haven’t had one of those things in my mouth since high school.”
I laughed. She still didn’t get it. For a moment I contemplated grabbing her by the ears and fucking her face, just to show her who was in charge. I decided to stick to the plan. I took her by the shoulders and, with a gentle downward pressure, forced her to her knees. Veronica eyed my cock, just inches from her face, with distaste, maybe even disgust.
“Use your hands to press your breasts together, Veronica.”
She was puzzled but she complied, her full breasts forming a channel custom-designed for my cock. I leaned her towards me and slid my shaft between her tits, pre-cum lubricating them quickly. This was hot. Veronica seemed shocked, and, looking down, came face to face with the flared tip of my cock. Realising where my cum would go when I blew, she looked vaguely sick. I didn’t care.
I began pumping her tits with more vigour now. I had the angle and rhythm right. My hands were on the slut’s shoulders, guiding her into position, holding her in place, emphasising that she was being forced, used, taken. My cock felt fantastic between her globes, the soft curves of her body giving just the right stimulation. Her sick humiliation, and the sheer fact that I was also fucking her daughter, added spice.
I began moaning softly, my breath getting ragged. It was harder and harder to maintain my rhythm. Felt so good. Faster. Soft moans getting more intense as the feeling of orgasm rose in my cock … close … close … now!
As my cock emerged and reached the highest point of its thrust I came, spurting cum up onto her chin and neck. I kept thrusting, cumming on her chest, and between her tits where my cock rubbed it in. Veronica recoiled slightly and I heard the word “gross” but she was sensible enough not to let her tits go.
Spent, I pulled away, and looked with satisfaction at the picture before me. This prim and proper bitch, who had turned up here with every intention of breaking my balls, instead found herself kneeling on my floor and covered in cum. I grabbed my camera and took another photo, then allowed Veronica to stand.
She cleaned herself up with a tissue, shot me a look of absolute venom, dressed and left. We both knew she’d be back soon.
Tammie mewled and grunted as she pushed her hot little ass back at me, impaling her sweet young pussy harder and harder onto my cock with each thrust. All she wore was a few ruined scraps of lace which had recently been her panties, and her “doggystyle” high heels, which we knew from past experience would elevate her pussy to the perfect height for rear entry. I had begun this fuck my way, grabbing the little slut by her ponytail and forcing her down over the couch … but it had pretty quickly become obvious that Tammie wanted to be used as much as I wanted to use her. Now, all I had to do was stand firm, and let her fuck herself hard with my cock.
By now, while Tammie was still my fuckslave – make no mistake about that! – she had abandoned any pretense of reluctance. Whereas I had once punished her by forcing her to suck my cock and drink my cum, I now punished her by threatening not to let her visit for a week. She was no longer the college princess … she was truly a whore for me.
I watched her young body moving back and forth, plunging back onto my cock, relishing the tight-yet-slick grasp of her pussy. This was the fucking life. But I could make it better – I was still in charge. I raised my right hand and waited until I caught the rhythm of Tammie’s ass. At the right moment … SLAP! I brought my hand down onto her, hard, leaving a pale handprint which quickly reddened and left a trace of broken capillaries. Tammie bruised easily, and healed quickly. The perfect combination. At the first slap she shot forward, squealing, one hand instinctively reaching back to protect herself.
“Did anyone say to stop fucking, whore?”
She bit her lip and began sliding on my cock again, more tentatively than before, waiting with each stroke for another hard slap. I let her go for a dozen or so strokes before obliging, harder than before, on the other cheek … SLAP! Another squeal, followed this time by a sob. She wasn’t terribly good with pain, and this was enough to get her crying. Beautiful.
The tears were too nice to waste, so I pulled Tammie back by the hips until she was kneeling on the ground, still facing the couch. I sat down before her, my cock rising up towards her pouting lips as her tongue darted out to intercept a salty tear which had made its way down her cheek. I guided her head to the tip of my cock and she opened her mouth, taking me slowly inside. If there’s anything sexier than the sight of a girl crying softly as she sucks your cock, I don’t know what it is. She sank her head down over my cock with a little more enthusiasm now, so I grabbed her by the ears and forced her onto my cock deep, holding her in place while she gagged. This felt fantastic, and produced more tears, which traced over her face and onto my cock. So hot.
I was soon ready to cum, and both of us knew it. Tammie increased the intensity of her sucking, trying to pull me over the edge. I grinned at her enthusiasm. “Want cum, Tammie? Want to drink my cum, you fucking little slut?” Without missing a beat, she changed the pitch of her moans to communicate begging, desire, need. I drew a sharp breath as my orgasm struck, and moaned as my hips thrust forward and my cock exploded into her mouth. Her throat worked, swallowing my cum without losing a drop, until I relaxed back, enjoying the post-orgasm rush. Tammie, well-trained by now, disengaged from my cock and began cleaning it with small kisses and licks.
Her job done, she rested her face on my thigh and smiled up at me as I caressed her hair.
What a perfect slut!
Once she had left to begin her day at college, I picked up my phone. I vaguely recalled it having gone off at some point while Tammie was doing precisely the same thing – going off! – on my cock. I flipped it open and grinned wickedly at the text message on the screen:
“I know you’re using Tammie now, you fucking asshole. If you hurt her you’ll be fucking sorry.”
Veronica hadn’t signed off. She hadn’t needed to.
I laughed as my fingers began working over the keypad in response. I sent two messages, the first to Veronica:
“We’ll see who is going to be fucking sorry, Veronica. Be here at 10AM tomorrow. But only if you really want to come, of your own accord.”
The last bit was necessary because I knew she was still trying to trap me into a position where she could extricate herself and her daughter from my clutches. There was no chance, and she probably knew it, but she kept trying anyway. The second message was to Tammie:
“That was hot, you filthy little slut. I want some more, and I know you do too. 11AM tomorrow. Just to be kinky, I want you to “borrow” your Mom’s sexiest panties.”
I snapped the phone closed, feeling and no doubt looking like the self-satisfied, smug little bastard I am.
The next morning, just before ten, I strained to hear the sound of Veronica’s car door closing down at street level. She would be on time – she always was nowadays. The first time she’d been late I had cum on her face and forced her to smear it all over, then wait for it to dry. She hadn’t enjoyed it one little bit, and soon after recognized the value of punctuality. I heard the bang of a car door, and a minute or so later heard the clack of high heels outside my apartment door.
She hesitated for a full 30 seconds before knocking. This was one aspect of Veronica which I loved. She was so torn. She truly hated me, and truly hated being my fucktoy, yet at a physical level I was meeting sexual needs which she previously hadn’t even realized she had. She wanted to run away, yet she wanted to come in and be fucked hard. Neither pure enthusiasm nor pure hatred would have been nearly as interesting.
I opened the door and looked her up and down. Veronica still looked a treat. The makeup was heavier now than when I’d first seen her. Her skirt was a whole lot shorter, and the light low-cut blouse made it fairly obvious she didn’t have a bra on. She looked, in short, like a middle aged slut. Again, she hated dressing this way … but once I’d made my requirements clear, it turned out that she was exceptionally good at picking outfits which made her look completely fuckable. A hint of floral scent wafted in with her. “Come in, Veronica. You look fantastic.”
“Fuck you, Samuel.”
I laughed. “Yep, that’s kind of the idea. Since we’re not going to be nice to one another, whore, I want you kneeling in the middle of my living room, hands on your head. Lose the skirt, undo all but the bottom button of your blouse, and pull your tits out.”
Veronica blushed in fury and anger, pushing past me into the living room. She turned away from me and dropped her skirt, folding it neatly over a nearby chair. Once she was kneeling, she unbuttoned the blouse nearly all the way and drew back the fabric, exposing those hot ripe breasts. I walked over to her, looming over to her, and bent to cup her breasts, tweaking then pinching her nipples. She whimpered angrily, but her nipples stiffened beautifully. She held her eyes closed, no doubt wishing herself away.
I removed my shirt and pants, but left my boxers on, and returned to my slut. Leaning down, I placed my phone on the carpet in front of her and flipped it open. “Now, slut, somebody sent me a nasty message yesterday. Read it.”
Gritting her teeth, Veronica opened her eyes and read. “I can’t wait. You haven’t fucked my ass in a week though. Why, are you chicken?”
I laughed evilly. “Oh, sorry Veronica. That one was from Tammie. Yours is the next one. But fucking her ass for her sounds like a good idea, don’t you think?” She ignored me as I advanced the messages. “Here we are.”
She looked furiously at me and read. “I know you’re using Tammie now, you fucking asshole. If you hurt her you’ll be fucking sorry.” She looked up defiantly. “You fucking will be, too, Samuel.”
The defiance was fun, but it was time to pull this little whore into line. To this point I had not used her anally – I’d been concentrating on forced oral and humiliation – but something special was needed to change her attitude. I ignored her comment and wandered into the bedroom, returning a few moments later with a short, thin, latex butt plug which flared out just enough to be retained securely. I held it in one hand, rubbing lube over it with the other. “Enough of your nonsense, Veronica. I’ve put up with your tantrums because they were amusing, but it’s time you remembered that you are no more than a filthy little slut whore, blackmailed into fucking the man who is also riding your precious little girl. You are nothing more than fuckmeat, Veronica, and I have the wherewithal to ruin your little family any time I want. Instead, you’re going to beg me to slide this plug into your ass.”
Her eyes widened. “I can’t. I can’t take that. Please … please?”
Needless to say, mercy wasn’t high on my list of priorities just then. I placed a hand in the small of Veronica’s back and pushed her forwards until she was on all fours, her head on the carpet. “Now, Veronica, reach back and pull those asscheeks wide apart.” She paused, her whole body quivering. Slowly her hands came back and pulled her cheeks apart, revealing her cute little asshole. “Beg, Veronica. Beg me to plug you.”
“Please don’t. Come on. Let me suck your cock. You can cum on my face. I know you love that. Please just don’t do this.”
I laughed. “I can cum on your face anyway, bitch. But since you don’t want the plug, maybe I should just shove my cock in your ass? I haven’t lubed it, of course, but if that’s what you want?”
The change in her attitude was dramatic. “No! Please? I’ll take the plug. Please, Samuel.”
“Well, slut, that’s not really begging, is it?”
“Please fuck my ass with the plug, Samuel. Please … sir?”
It was the first time she’d ever called me that on her own. Perfect. I touched the plug to her asshole and watched her flinch away. Slowly, surely, I pressed it forward. Her breath caught momentarily as the plug pressured her ass, then slid through. She groaned louder, though, when the ridge of the plug forced her ass to flare wide. I held it there, maximizing her discomfort for a few seconds, before pressing it home. Her muscles closed around the ridge, holding it tight, and I rocked back to admire my handiwork. It was a hot picture, so I snapped a couple of photos – one can never have too much blackmail material.
“Stand up, slut.”
She stood up gingerly, trying to get used to the unusual feel of the plug in her ass, feeling the muscles work to try unsuccessfully to expel the invading object. I undid the last button of her blouse and tossed it aside, leaving her naked but for a pair of slutty high heels. Time to reveal the plan for the morning. “Now, Veronica, you seem to have a fascination with what Tammie and I do when we’re alone, don’t you?”
She didn’t answer. The defiance was gone from her face, and her hips kept working slightly in response to the plug. Eventually, softly, she said “I want to protect her.”
I laughed. “Well, slut, so far you’re doing a fantastic job, aren’t you?” She blushed as a momentary resurgence of anger flooded through her. “Well, Veronica, today’s your lucky day. Not only are you going to find out what I do to your daughter, you’re going to watch.”
Veronica looked puzzled, but she let herself be guided from the living room into my bedroom, and over to my closet. The closet was one of those old-fashioned ones with row upon row of angled horizontal slats. It looked awful, like some sort of 70’s throwback, but it was perfect for my purpose. I opened it up, and realization struck for Veronica. The clothes were gone, and a series of ropes had already been fastened to strategic points in the cupboard’s interior. “No!” she protested. “No fucking way!!”
Enough was enough. I shoved the worthless bitch into the cupboard. “You don’t have a fucking choice here, Veronica. Do you really want to test my resolve? Well?” She did not answer, but passively resisted as I grabbed her wrists and tied them together, behind her back. Next, two ropes secured her elbows, pulling them apart and rendering her arms immobile. At this point the fight went out of Veronica. Her fingers reached futilely for the ropes and, finding nothing, she realized she was beaten. There was no resistance as I secured a rope around her waist, then one to each knee and one to each ankle. It was a great position – she wasn’t in any particular discomfort (she’d be stiff and sore when she emerged, but no more than that) but she couldn’t move a muscle.
We weren’t done, though. I produced two nipple clamps and waved them before her face. She paled. “No. Come on. You don’t need to use those.”
I gave her a stern look. “Did you really think you would get away with the attitude you’ve been displaying, Veronica? Think yourself lucky I don’t just pierce them. That would be hard to explain to hubby, don’t you think?” I fixed each clamp to her nipples, enjoying her moans of pain, watching how little she could move in response. It was exquisite. One more touch. I took out a ball gag. She’d never seen one before, and looked on in incomprehension until I gripped her jaws and commended her to open. The ball went in before she realized what was going on, and I fixed the straps on her head.
She couldn’t move, she couldn’t talk, she had a plug in her ass and clamps on her nipples. And she was about to watch me fuck her daughter. I turned on some music as I left the room, just enough to cover any incidental sounds. She was in for a show, that was for sure.
It took another ten minutes for Tammie to arrive. I had to resist the temptation to keep going back into the bedroom to check on Veronica, but I wanted her to feel abandoned and irrelevant. Because, of course, she was. Eventually, her daughter knocked on the door and I opened it. Fuck, Tammie looked like a tramp. She had on a skirt so short it was barely there, and a spaghetti strap satin top which I swear only just covered her nipples. Her long black hair was teased out, and her makeup screamed “stripper”. She had gone to a lot of trouble, and I liked what I saw. Coming in the door, she wrapped her arms around me and I indulged her in a long, deep kiss before breaking away and commanding her to the bedroom. “Stand in the middle of the bed.”
She smiled wickedly and led me into the bedroom, giving a little more wiggle with her ass than was strictly necessary, then kneeling on the bed before rising to a standing position. Standing on the bed in heels was harder than she expected, and she nearly fell before catching herself against the wall. She faced me as I stood to one side, just taking in the sight of her, and relishing the knowledge that her mother was watching. So far, so good. Tammie was in just the right mood, and there was no sign that her mother was even there.
Since Tammie was looking so much like a stripper, I’d decided she could put on a show. “Striptease for me, slut,” I said. “Make me want you bad.”
In a flash, Tammie’s demeanor changed from lighthearted college chick to sultry siren. She looked right at me and slowly, seductively licked her lips. Her hips began to move, almost imperceptibly at first, then a little more, and a little more, swaying in time with the music which still wafted gently through the room. I kept my gaze on Tammie, carefully refraining from looking towards the closet. I knew Veronica could see everything, and I hoped she was enjoying the show as much as I was. Tammie continued to tease, moving her body this way and that, reaching down to the hem of her top and drawing it up to expose her navel and taut, girlish stomach. She held it there, just below her breasts, and continued to dance, then let it the shirt drop back into place.
My personal stripper bent down and removed her shoes to reveal red-painted toes. With a more secure footing, she stood again and began to dance with more energy, turning this way and that, showing off her exceptionally hot young body to best effect. She lifted the hem of her top again, but no teasing this time. It came off and she tossed it to one side where it fell, as luck would have it right at the closet door. I couldn’t suppress a grin. Still dancing, Tammie caressed and pinched her nipples, eyes closing as she enjoyed her own touch. Eventually her hands slid languorously down her body, her thumbs hooking into the top of her skirt. “Want it to come off?” she teased.
I smiled. “But of course. I need to see whether you have followed my instructions.”
She laughed and her thumbs moved downwards, pushing her skirt over her hips. She let it fall, left it on the bed and kept dancing. Tammie was clad now in a black lace thong, highlighted with red embroidered roses. I knew those panties – I had seen them on Veronica. “Good girl,” I said softly. “Do you like wearing your Mom’s panties, you filthy little whore?”
She blushed. “It feels … nasty.”
“Who do you think she wears those for?”
“Dad, I suppose. But I can’t imagine … ewww. Besides, she’s old and dry. I bet they never fuck any more anyway.”
I laughed and let her keep dancing. Did you hear that, Veronica? Your daughter is here, stripteasing on my bed, wearing your panties, while you’re tied in the closet watching. And you’re apparently too old and dry to fuck. Still laughing to myself, I stood and undressed before walking over to the bed.
“Kneel down, Tammie, and suck my cock.”
She immediately dropped to her knees while I stood beside the bed. The heights were awkward … she needed to stretch her neck out and down to get my cock without falling off the bed, but she did it without a second thought. Several months as a fuckslave had taught her well. Tammie began with soft licks and kisses, tasting my pre-cum and kissing along the length of my shaft, before dipping her mouth down over me, engulfing me in warm wetness. Not really sucking yet, just taking me into her mouth. She lifted her mouth away, and the wet skin felt suddenly cool as she continued kissing my shaft. Finally she sank her mouth onto my cock in earnest, working me hard, but not too hard. Neither of us wanted me to cum just yet.
I decided it was time to have a little more fun, humiliating both the daughter and the mother at once. I tapped Tammie on the head. “Keep sucking me, slut, but moo like a cow.”
I saw her eyebrows raise. Moo? She did so, though, suckling on my cock and sounding like a heifer. I laughed at her and she blushed. “Now oink like a pig!” She did so, still sucking. “You really are a little piggy, aren’t you Tammie? My own little fuckpig, snorting and sucking.” She kept oinking, sucking and blushing. “Imagine what your Mom would say if she could see you now.”
Tammie wasn’t so enthusiastic now. She was embarrassed, humiliated. Sometimes she got so into the sex that she forgot she was my slave, not my girlfriend, and that while I love fucking her, I am not ultimately concerned whether she’s having fun or not. Had she known Mommy really was watching, she’d probably have died of shock.
I pushed her face off my cock and sent her sprawling onto the bed. I rolled onto it and caught her panties in one hand. I pulled hard, and there was the sound of shearing fabric, and a gasp as the panties dug into Tammie’s leg before tearing from her body. “Fuck! Mom’s gonna kill me.”
I tossed the panties aside, chuckling to myself. Without further ado, I pushed Tammie into a conventional missionary position and slid into her. She grunted, a hot fulfilled little grunt, as I bottomed out in her. While I was nice and firmly inside her, I carefully linked my ankles over hers and used my hands to brace her shoulders so that she could barely move. I whispered “Struggle, fuckwhore. Pretend I’m raping you and you need to get away.”
She didn’t need any more encouragement. We’d played this game before, and she was very convincing. She tensed her body and then, without warning, began thrashing to try to throw me off, crying and groaning with the effort, her nails becoming claws to scratch at me. I grabbed on harder, resisting her escape, and pounding her pussy with my cock. The harder she fought to get away, the more tightly I grabbed and held her. The more furiously she struggled, the harder I fucked her. It was like fucking a lioness, and I loved it.
She began to spit and curse. Still thrashing, she furiously yelled at me. “Let me go, you fucking bastard. Let me go!” I intensified my hold, fucking her so hard that she began whimpering with pain. She fought hard, but she was out of her league. She began to weaken, and I pressed home my advantage, literally fucking her into submission. By the time I felt my orgasm welling up within my cock she was limp, just accepting my abuse. I grunted with effort and made one last hard thrust, pushing up inside her deep and emptying my balls into her.
Tammie looked up at me, an odd look of fury and adoration which I’ve only really ever seen from her. “Scoop yourself clean,” I instructed. She grimaced, but the inserted two fingers into her pussy, scooping our combined juices then licking her fingers clean. She repeated the process until I told her to stop. Apparently she doesn’t like the taste of her juices – she seems insatiable for mine though. When she was done, I told her she could leave.
I had been planning to leave Veronica in place for a little while after Tammie’s departure, but in the end I decided not to tease myself. I opened the closet to reveal my older slut exactly where I’d left her. Her makeup was a mess, her face a morass of tears. I undid her ball gag, expecting a torrent of abuse, but none came. “Did you enjoy the show, slut?”
She whispered. “What do you think? You tied me in a closet and fucked my daughter. You humiliated her, hurt her, and used her like a whore. And I have to let you do that to her and to me again and again and again. I hate you.”
I laughed softly and dipped two fingers in her pussy. She was sopping wet. “Well I know one thing for sure, slut. You’re not old and dry. Some part of you liked the show.” Embarrassment fought with anger for possession of her face. Embarrassment won. “Admit that it turned you on, watching that, Veronica. Admit it.”
She closed her eyes. “OK. I admit it.”
I smiled softly to myself. The game had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.
When Tammie answered her phone, she sounded like she just been laughing. She often sounded that way, which was one of the things I loved about our situation – she was a bright, vivacious, incredibly pretty, happy young woman. She was also my utter cockslut, entrapped by a growing pile of blackmail material. Tammie was a very different young woman when she was bouncing, sweating and moaning on my cock. I loved seeing her on campus, watching her flirt with the boys and laugh with the girls, all the while knowing I could summon her at a moment’s notice to do whatever the fuck I wanted. As I was about to do.
“Hi, it’s Tammie!”
“I know, slut. I want you in my office, within ten minutes.”
Her voice dropped, both in tone and volume, as though she had turned away from the group she was with. “Can I have an hour babe? Please? I’m kind of busy just now.”
I chuckled inwardly. Tammie had somehow fooled herself into believing that what we had was somewhere between blackmail and an affair. She’d begun calling me “babe” and trying to negotiate. It was fun, of course, but I did need to remind her of who was in charge. “An hour? Of course you can have an hour. I’ll use the time to start loading your pics onto the web, shall I? Maybe the ones of you licking my cum off the kitchen floor?”
Silence.
At last a whisper. “I’ll be there in five.”
I replaced the phone in the cradle, grinning wickedly at the hurt, tinged with fear, in her voice. While I waited, I sent a short SMS to my other slut, Veronica. Veronica was Tammie’s mother – an older, more ripe version of Tammie herself. Far classier, and far more devastated to find herself in the hands of a dominant bastard like me.
Tammie must have been nearby and left her friends immediately, because about three minutes later there was a knock at my door, which I opened to reveal a sullen looking slut in a knee length denim skirt, black ballet slipper shoes, and a close-fit light yellow singlet top, through which her nipples seemed to be peeking. “Come in, Tammie. You look delicious. I am sorry for interrupting your morning with your friends.”
She flicked me a look. “Sure you are. Would it have hurt you to let me have some coffee?”
I raised my eyebrow. “Whether it would have hurt me or not is entirely beside the point, whore. Whenever I want your body, it is at my disposal.” I took on a more stern, teacher’s voice – the one I use when I’m giving a slack student a hard time. “Bend over my desk, Tammie, for panty inspection.”
She let her bag drop from her shoulder and, looking venom at me, bent forward, resting her elbows on the desk and her forehead on her elbows. I flipped up the back of her skirt to reveal an incredible ass which still blew me away every time I saw it. Fuck she was hot. A slim fold of satin disappeared into her asscrack - Tammie was only allowed thongs, when she was allowed panties at all. I was pleased that she had been obedient. I traced my fingertip under the fabric, following it down to the very tip of her pussy. As I’d expected, she was sopping wet. I kept my voice low, but firm.
“Who owns this body, Tammie?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, and still a touch of defiance as she answered softly, “You do.”
“And when I want this body in my office, ready to serve me, then what should you do?”
“I should come.”
“Straight away, or when you feel like it?”
Her face was buried in her arms, but I could almost see her wince. “Straight away.”
“And did you, Tammie?”
“No … sir.”
“Then I suspect a little correction is in order.”
She whimpered a little as I removed the belt from my pants and doubled it over. She had taken some fairly harsh spankings from me in the past, but she was no painslut. Her fear was genuine – which ramped up my excitement just that one extra notch. I swung back the belt and cracked it down hard over the widest, meatiest part of her ass. A sharp report echoed momentarily through the room and Tammie jumped convulsively forward, pushing the desk slightly with her thighs and groaning. The belt left a white stripe on her ass which quickly began filling with a soft red-pink. I raised my arm for another, and brought it down – thwack! – on an angle, crossing over the first blow. She sobbed this time, but kept her head in position, he ass undulating this way and that as though she vainly sought to pull it away from the pain. One more. Thwack!! This one landed a little further over, and the weal extended over onto her hip, where she was less well protected. She was crying openly now, and held her position as I rethreaded my belt.
“Stand up, Tammie. Do you have anything to say?”
“I’m sorry … sir.”
“An are you going to keep me waiting again?”
“No sir.”
“Good girl.” I used my fingers to lift her chin and I smiled at her tear-streaked face. Is there anything, anything at all, as sexy as a beautiful woman crying after a spanking? “Clean yourself up, Tammie. We’re going to my place.”
She was quiet on the drive back to my apartment, and squirming exquisitely as her raw ass burned against the seat. The spanking hadn’t been part of my plan for the day, but she had certainly deserved it. We parked and walked in. “Strip, slut, and put your clothes in your bag. You can leave the thong on, though.”
She was a little puzzled as she looked at me. Usually I insisted on the full striptease routine. But she complied, turning away from me as she undressed. I don’t know why women do that, when you’re about to see them naked anyway – but this time I didn’t mind, as I was treated to a view of her sexy, glowing, fresh-spanked ass. She put her clothes into her bag, and stood in the middle of the room. I pushed the bag into a corner out of sight, then took Tammie’s hand and led her down the hallway, past the bedroom door and into my study. My padded weights bench stood in the middle of the room, ropes already anchored to its bars. “Oh, fuck no,” whispered Tammie.
“Did you say something, whore?”
“No sir. I’m sorry.”
I let it go. “Lay down on the bench, Tammie, on your stomach. I want your pussy and ass at the very end of the bench, and your head supported.” She turned away and I leaned forward, hooking my thumbs under the waist of her panties and pulling them over her hips. She froze as I did so, then straddled the bench (what a sight that was!) and leaned forward, laying herself down into position, and shuffling herself back until her pussy was flush with the edge. With her legs parted either side of the weights bench, the lips of her pussy were open invitingly, glistening slightly with the dew of her fear and arousal. I knelt behind her and tied her ankles with the ropes, tightly enough that she had virtually no movement at her ankles. Her knees were left unbound. When her ankles were secure I leaned forward for a moment and buried my nose in that glorious shaved little cunt, lapping up her tastes, listening to her catch her breath and moan slightly. Fucking delicious.
I move to Tammie’s front now, and secured her wrists together underneath the bench, so that it looked like she was hugging it. Once they were together, I secured them both to one of the bench supports. When she was done, she was trussed up tight – secure, but not particularly uncomfortable. I sat down on the floor for a moment so that our faces were at a level. She was biting her lip nervously, her face a mask of anticipation, anxiety, and arousal.
“Are you comfortable, Tammie?” She nodded. “Good. Because you’re going to be on this bench for a few hours. I intend to use you, then leave you here until I feel like using you again, intermittently until after lunch.” Her eyes widened as I stood. I went over to my desk and retrieved a butt plug and lube which I had placed there earlier. While doing so, I was outside the range of Tammie’s vision and I could see her squirming against the ropes, trying to find out what was going on. She worked it out soon enough, as the cold of the lube touched at the entrance to her ass.
Tammie was quite the anal slut by now, so she was no longer automatically freaked out by having her ass invaded. The muscles of her ass tightened reflexively for a moment, but she quickly relaxed and accepted the intrusion as I slowly pushed the plug home, filling her from behind until all I could see nestled between her asscheeks was the latex rectangle of the plug’s base.
I stood to admire my handiwork. Tammie the prom queen, bound over my weights bench, legs wide, pussy available, ass filled with a plug, and mouth waiting. Excellent. I pulled a largish footrest around to the front of her and knelt on it, slipping my cock from my pants as I did so. “Suck my cock, slut,” I instructed. “Suck it but don’t make it cum.”
This was a terrific game. She knew that if she did not suck enthusiastically enough she’d be punished … and that if she sucked too enthusiastically I would cum, and she’d be punished for that. She began by licking my balls and licking along the shaft of my cock, slow wet passes of her tongue savouring every inch of me before she took me into her mouth and began sucking.
I closed my eyes as my cock disappeared between her lips. The suction of her mouth seemed to stimulate every square millimeter of my cock at once. To increase the sensation, from time to time she swirled her tongue over the head of my cock, or drew back so that only the head of my cock was inside her mouth, and her tongue caressed that incredibly sensitive region below my cockhead. All of this effort was punctuated by sexy little moans – not that she was necessarily enjoying it, but she knew that the little mewling noises turned me on.
Tammie worked in a rhythm, giving me a few moments of serious stimulation followed by a longer period of less intense cocksucking. She had become very, very good at giving head, and this was some of the best. I let the sensations linger, deliberately trying not to give her any clues as to how close I was to cumming. The lack of cues frustrated her, but she kept going, working in her pattern of high and low stimulation.
After five minutes or so, I let her off the hook. By that time her jaw would have been aching (I’m only average in terms of length, but quite thick) and I didn’t want to get carried away. I had a lot of playing to do yet. I drew backwards, watching as her mouth chased my cock until it finally got away, then caressed her cheek gently. “That was superb, Tammie. I’m going to leave you for a little while, now. I’ll be back when I need to use your body again. Don’t go anywhere.” An old joke, but I laughed anyway. I switched on a DVD player, inserting a disk of extremely hot lesbian porn, and turned the volume up fairly high. She’d be able to hear everything, but would have to hold her head up in order to see. With one last smile at the scene I’d created, I closed the door on her. No more than the muffled noises of wet lesbian sex could be heard.
I had about 20 minutes in which to recover and prepare for the next part of my day. I dressed, then found the bag containing Tammie’s clothes, and left it safely out of sight in my hallway closet. Once or twice I cracked the door open and checked on Tammie. Obviously, she was where I had left her, but I didn’t see any signs of unusual discomfort. She was testing the bonds, though, and moving as much as they would let her.
Exactly on time, the sound of Veronica’s high heeled shoes approached my door. I had disconnected the doorbell to be on the safe side, and I opened the door before she had a chance to knock. She looked terrific as usual, in a mutton-dressed-as-lamb kind of way. I continued to make her dress for me in slutty clothing more appropriate to a young woman of her daughter’s age. The clothing emphasized her ripe sexuality in a way that even her nakedness did not. I let her in to the apartment and grabbed her firmly, kissing her deeply, my tongue forcing its way between reluctant lips. By know I had figured Veronica out. She loved the sex, but hated me. She loved the intensity of our sessions, but hated the guilty feelings she got on returning home to hubby. For so long as she was forced to do these things, she could enjoy them without the guilt of volunteering. And for my part, I loved forcing through her reluctance. I continued kissing her until I felt her arms snake around me, and felt her kiss me back.
As we kissed, I lifted the back hem of her skirt to confirm that she was not wearing panties. I had no need to check for a bra – in the teasing, satiny top she was wearing, every time she moved Veronica’s tits flowed with her. She had been a good girl – or, from her perspective, a bad one – and followed by instructions to the letter. Breaking our kiss, I took her hand and led her towards the bedroom.
“What are the noises I can hear?”
