The President's Club
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Teenagers, Consensual, Romantic, NonConsensual, Rape, Slavery, Lesbian, Heterosexual, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, FemaleDom, Spanking, Rough, Light Bond, Sadistic, Torture, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Exhibitionism, Needles, Violent,
Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Did you hear the one about the masochist and the sadist that met and fell in love? This is a not-quite-classic boy-meets-girl love story, but with a very strong BDSM theme. Caution - this is one of my first BDSM-themed stories and I was apparently very angry when I wrote it. It is very strong and very hot. Some parts of the story may not be all that realistic - so please do not try this at home.
The young wife gazed nervously into the full-length mirror on the door of her closet. She almost didn't recognize the gorgeous creature standing in front of her. So much had happened to her in the last couple of months. So much about her life had changed and had been turned totally upside down. Still, deep inside her it felt like something wasn't quite right, yet. She didn't have any idea what it was, but she didn't think she was finished with all of the changes, that she wasn't there yet, wherever 'there' was. She felt like a pupa stuck in mid-metamorphosis. She wasn't a caterpillar anymore and not yet a butterfly, either. She knew that tonight was the next step. She didn't know how she knew. She could just feel it. Maybe it was just because she wanted so badly for something to happen.
Something would happen tonight - something <had> to happen tonight to complete her metamorphosis, to make her whole. Her whole being yearned for it to happen. Yet, as excited as she was about tonight, she was even more afraid. Afraid of the unknown, afraid she would manage to screw this up, too. God knew she didn't have a good track record with relationships up to this point in her young life. She pessimistically wondered how she was going to mess this one up.
As she stared at the emerging butterfly in the mirror, she thought back on the events leading up to this night. How had she come to this point? Why had these things happened to her?
Karin's life was a mess. A total mess. But that was nothing new. It had always been a mess...
She was just 18 years old, and had barely graduated High School with a D average. The irony that her grade point average was the same as her bra cup size didn't escape her. She thought it was funny. Her teachers would have been stunned to learn that she not only knew what irony was, but that she could identify aspects of it in her own life, and see the humor of it, as well. Karin wasn't stupid. She was just easily distracted, undisciplined and bored and terribly insecure, all of which she hid from everyone by being cool, unapproachable and aloof. Unfortunately, her blossoming body had encouraged all kinds of distractions from the boys at her high school.
Karin was tall for a girl, almost 6 feet tall, feminine and graceful. Her "ice queen" exterior scared all but the most aggressive boys away and kept them from asking her out. They just didn't know how to deal with a female that didn't pant like a bitch in heat. They got close enough to her and never found out it was an act, a sham. The ones who did ask her out were treated with icy coolness. Look but don't touch. She was a trophy date to take to the country club or the prom, but never into the backseat.
Which was surprising, considering how universally horny teenage boys are and how drop-dead beautiful Karin was. Her face was regal, more serious than she was. Clear blue eyes, blonde hair, a long, graceful neck. Smooth, rounded shoulders tapered into delicate arms, ending in soft slender fingers.
Her legs drew a lot of attention, especially in Spring and Summer when she wore shorts. They had been a featured attraction ever since the sixth grade when she had sprouted up to her near-Amazon height. Her legs were constantly a source of embarrassment to her. When she sat and innocently crossed them in class, or when she simply walked down the hallway in school, they drew unwanted attention to her. They were endless and the short skirts she wore emphasized their length and shapeliness. Of course, she didn't mean to wear her skirts so short, the length of skirt she bought were the longest ones the stores carried in her size.
Her hips flared nicely, but still retained the trimness of a younger girl. The firm clean lines of her ass cheeks swayed when she walked down the school hallways between classes, never failing to bring at least one, if not a chorus of whistles behind her.
Her breasts, however, were truly amazing. They were huge, stupendous globes of firm flesh, but her height made them seem almost proportionate to her body. Almost. The sensuously rounded orbs sat high and proud on her broad chest, firm and large, defying laws of gravity and physics by standing straight out without support. At their quivering tips were quarter-sized circles colored a dusky pink with perfectly centered crinkled red buttons that always seemed to be poking out through whatever she was wearing, even thick heavy sweat shirts.
Early on, when they were brand new, she had been proud of her chesty development until the girls in her gym class had spited her in their juvenile envy. The very same girls who had been her 'best' friends at the beginning of the summer had ostracized her as her tits ballooned at the end of the summer. She was never again invited to any more parties, sleepovers, nor was she included in the gossip. She was now the topic of it.
The boys on the other hand, although they pestered her a lot, mostly just looked, drooled and jacked off. They were immature and the erotic image she presented to them made them nervous. Even the quarterback of the football team fumbled around her. She had been the chief actress in many a high school fantasy and wet dream but she ended up dateless on most Saturday nights.
When she did date, they went one of two ways. Either the boys were so overwhelmed with her beauty and nearness that they creamed their shorts just sitting beside her, or they would explode at her and try to rape her. Those who exploded at her also exploded in their shorts. None of the immature bastards even tried to kiss her. It they had only known...
Her home life had not been much better. Her mother drank a lot, her father fooled around a lot, or at least, that's what the neighbors said. The times she remembered of her childhood that Karin had liked best were those times when her mother was unconscious and her father was 'out of town'. On those nights, at least, although she was alone, neither of them would beat her nor humiliate her.
So it was not surprising that when Mr. Saunders, a wealthy businessman from the big city, showed a romantic interest in her that she was drawn to him. He had chanced to see her walking home from school as he drove through her small town. He had been there for business and looking for a service station before heading back to civilization, as he called it. He was so impressed with just that glimpse of her that he decided to stay and look into this statuesque creature. He was a big man, tall and handsome. She looked like she would be an ideal set piece for him.
When he approached her, he did so without fear or nervousness. Not at all like the boys who stammered and gasped, ejaculating in their shorts just at being close to her. As she thought back, she figured she must have fallen in love with him when he introduced himself. He treated her so kind and was so gentle, so sophisticated. He was the perfect gentleman on every one of their dates. He didn't try to kiss her or have sex with her or touch her during their whirlwind courtship. Never once did she sense he had soiled himself. She took this to be a measure of his self-control. In her short life, Karen had never met a man like Bill Saunders. Of course, his reserve around her was not due to his graciousness nor his manners, not because he was a gentleman, intelligent and refined. It was because he was gay.
Bill's business was in a close-knit industry that demanded a "normal" family image and he desperately needed a wife. His initial assessment of Karin was confirmed as he researched her family and the boring little town she came from: Karin was the perfect trophy wife. Beautiful and dumb, a girl no one cared about.
He quietly gave her parents $10,000 in cash at their daughter's wedding to forget about her. No phone calls, no letters, no visits, no contact at all. With that much money for booze, it was guaranteed they wouldn't remember anything for long.
Bill had insisted that Karin pack up everything that was hers in her parent's house and bring it with her when she moved to the big city to live with him. He wanted no traces of her left behind, no little articles or knick-knacks to stir long forgotten memories in her parents minds of their one and only child.
He needn't have bothered. Her parents had resented her from her conception. Her striking beauty and aloofness had only infuriated them more. They resented how plain and ordinary she made them feel. They accused her of disdain. Karin was already forgotten by them before she and her new husband had left town following the small reception. Her parents both drank themselves to death within two months. The local banker, seeking to curry favor with the big city businessman, contacted Bill about their deaths. Bill paid for the funerals and a tiny out of the way plot of land to bury them, but he didn't tell Karin, so she didn't go to the funeral. She never knew they were dead.
The wedding had been six months ago and her brief 6-month marriage to the 55-year-old successful businessman was a total failure. Nothing worked between them. No matter what she tried, no matter how hard she worked to please him, she always upset him. She couldn't relate to her husband's work or his education. She never thought it might not be her fault.
The façade of her fairy-tale marriage to the handsome Bill Saunders had started cracking on their wedding night. He had complained of a headache, of all things, that first night. The second night he passed out drunk, something she was used to from her mother. She had quietly put him to bed, caring for a passed-out drunk like she had done ever since she could remember. The tension of the honeymoon had ended abruptly with a well-planned emergency in another city. He apologized, but was sure she would understand.
Other business trips came up after they had settled in and he was away for weeks at a time. When he was home, he came back from the office late at night. She had been married for six months and was still a virgin. To her way of thinking, she had been a failure as a daughter, she had been a failure in high school and now she was a failure as a wife.
She even thought she was a failure as a woman. She had realized her husband was gay early on, but thought she was the reason for it. She reasoned that he had been attracted to her, so he must have been straight when they met. But then she had 'turned' him gay.
At first it was the pool man who only came to clean the pool when Bill was home. The job always seemed to take two people, especially the part that took them into the cabana out behind the pool. It wasn't until she needed to turn off the pool filter one day and looked for the filter equipment in the small outbuilding that she found there was no reason for them to be in there.
Then there was the tailor that seemed to take an awful lot of measurements, but didn't know anything about fabric or colors or stitching or anything. Or the limo driver who was barely old enough to have a driver's license and kept getting out of the back seat with Bill.
Lately it was the butler that didn't "buttle". Her new home was a big house and she initially appreciated the gesture from Bill to provide her with some help to manage the responsibilities of keeping such a large house running. She didn't think twice about the butler moving into the quarters off the kitchen. That's what a butler did. But this one did more. And less. He was absolutely no help to her around the house. As time passed, the relationship between the three of them became tense and then hostile. The normal roles of husband and wife were mixed up helter-skelter.
Karin became more and more isolated and alone as time passed. She had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. She never went out, Bill wouldn't let her drive any of his precious cars and she had no friends. In fact, since she had arrived, she hadn't met anyone but Bill and the itinerant household staff. The cook only spoke Spanish, the gardener was deaf, and the butler, well, the butler resented her very existence. That had been made very clear to her two weeks ago.
Two weeks ago, Bill and the "butler", Bruce, had surprised her as she lay sunning herself by the pool. Bill insisted that she maintain her youthful appearance and beauty. He liked her to appear as if they had spent time on the islands, so she spent as much of her time in the sun as possible. As his trophy wife, she had the finest clothes to wear, and, of course, the tiniest bikinis.
That afternoon, as she lay soaking up the last of the day's light, the two men had quietly sneaked up behind her and overpowered her. She had been immediately blindfolded. A thick hand towel had been stuffed and crammed into her mouth by one of them. Bruce, she thought. Her arms had been pulled hard behind her back as she lay struggling on her stomach. Her assailant tied them with a piece of stiff twine or wire. It was tied tight and cut deeply into her wrists. There was no love or tenderness in either of the men's actions.
She had been picked up, thrown over a shoulder, and hauled like an old rug down into the basement. There, they had strung her up and proceeded to torment her as only two misogynistic men were capable of.
Her hands had been re-tied from behind her back to the thick pipes running overhead, leaving her feet dangling about two inches off the floor. As tall as she was, her feet didn't reach the floor to support her. They had not bothered to take off her skimpy covering, but merely pushed the tiny triangles of her bikini top up off her firm tits and yanked the bottoms down around her thighs. Doing it that way made her feel more exposed and naked than if she had been completely nude.
Bruce, the sadistic butler, had started slapping her firm tits with his hands. He had to reach up to hit her chest, but he still managed to hit her hard. He was a wimpy, emasculated, effeminate man and was jealous of Karin's femininity. He was especially jealous of her natural charm and beauty and above all, her perfectly rounded tits.
He began to work her tits over, going from slapping them side to side to using them as a punching bag, hitting them straight on with his closed fists. Karin screamed into the towel gag as the blows jarred her body. He was working so hard that the sweat was running down, staining his silk pajamas. Sadist that he was, he got excited beating up a helpless woman. His erection tented the loose-fitting pants until the tip slipped out between the buttons of the fly. The short pink organ was highlighted against the black shiny fabric.
Bill watched as Bruce tormented the stupid country girl that he had married. That's essentially how he thought of the cunt. Too dumb to boil water. But with her folks gone, he figured he could be a respectable widower in a year of so. No one would miss the bitch.
Until then, though, he figured he might as well get all the mileage out of little wifey as he could. This whole brutality thing had been the butler's idea.
It also hadn't escaped his notice that it had been Bruce's idea that had gotten him into this mess with the big Hong Kong bank in the first place. Bill knew better than to try to cheat the bank, but Bruce just had to try to pull one over on them. It hadn't even been necessary. Or profitable.
Now it had been the butler's idea to get out of that trouble with the bank by prostituting his wife to the bank's president. All they had to do was to get Karin to go along with the idea. Bruce had convinced him that beating the shit out of her was the only way to convince her to follow through with it and 'make nice' to the banker even if they weren't around to make sure.
Bill watched the barbaric butler beat on Karin a little longer. He wasn't sure but he thought he detected a subtle change in the girl's reactions to the punishing blows. Her screams had softened to moans and were coming less frequently, but that could be exhaustion. Her pink nipples seemed to be puffing up and darkening in hue, but that could be due to the beating they were taking. He was not an expert in female sexual responses - he had never had an interest in it - but he thought he noticed moisture seeping from between her flailing thighs. That one had him stumped.
For her part, Karin had been taken by surprise, not only by the beating but by her reaction to it and the pain. The blindfold had confused her and she couldn't get her bearings. She never realized how much she relied on her eye sight. She wondered at first if perhaps they were just playing a trick on her. Then she thought they really were kidnappers, until they spoke to one another and she recognized their voices. Why would her husband want to do this to her?
The ropes around her wrists had hurt, but there was also another deeper feeling building insider her she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was like it was OK what was happening, like she wanted it to happen. It was kind of like having a security blanket, the feeling that she was not in control. Whatever happened, she was not responsible. There was no pressure on her to act in any particular way. She couldn't screw this up. It was comforting in a strange and twisted way and she relaxed and let it happen to her.
She had gone limp as they had lifted her and allowed them to hoist her over a shoulder. She didn't resist as they had strung her from the overhead pipes in the basement. She had blushed, unnoticed, when her breasts and pussy had been exposed, but that blush quickly faded as Bruce, she had guessed correctly, had started slapping and then punching her in the tits and tummy.
The initial slaps had surprised her and the sudden pain in her boobs had made her scream. It was the only defense she had left. The pain had quickly been replaced by surprisingly intense pleasant feelings that zipped straight to her cunt. The wonderful tingling had built with each slap and punch of her tits. Tensed and primed by endless hours of using her finger as her sole source of pleasure, the virgin wife was quickly teetering on the edge of a ripping climax. For the first time in her life, she felt really alive. She was charged up. Something wonderful was going to happen - she could feel it building in her sopping cunt.
Whether Bruce sensed her impending orgasm, or whether he just got lucky doesn't matter much, because just as she was about to free fall over the edge, he punched the defenseless dangling girl in her relaxed, untrained stomach with two powerful jabs. The air was forced completely from her lungs, squelching any possibility of her pending orgasm. Bill stepped in to stop the raging butler from doing too much damage to the gasping woman. They did, after all, have to keep her in relatively good shape for her 'date' with the president of the bank. That was why they were here, after all.
"My turn, Brucie. Why don't you rest a while?"
Bruce was in a blood rage and wasn't about to quit. All the frustrations he had had all his life at having a female psyche and a male body were finally coming out. Anger at all the teasing from the other kids. Anger that this cunt was his lover's legal wife. He turned to Bill, whining. "Just a little longer, Bill. The bitch deserves it."
"No, Bruce. That's not the reason we're here, now, is it? We can't be selling damaged goods to this client, can we?"
The mention of the banker calmed Bruce down. That mean son of a bitch would make this beating seem like a ballroom dance lesson. Bruce had worked for that particular bank up until last year. That was a fact that was not widely known.
Being the thorough man that he was, the banker researched all potential employees before he made a hire. Except in this case. Bruce, the flaming gay, had been forced on the bank by the fucking liberals in Personnel and their EEOC policies. The bastard had simply shown up in his department with all the access codes. Those idiots in Personnel hadn't even done a basic resume check. By the time the money was missing, it was too late to point fingers. It was his employee, his division and responsibility by then. And he was pissed.
The bank had fired Bruce after it was discovered he had embezzled a lot of money from them. It was more than a lot. He had diverted too much of the bank's money for the bank to publicly admit and still keep the confidence of its depositors. Way too much for the bank president to admit to the board of directors and still keep his job.
By the time he left the bank, Bruce had been well aware of the banker's reputation with the ladies. Bruce had actually had a crush on the big guy when he first started working in his department. But the guy was straight and only dated women. And the ladies he dated, well, let's just say he was a hard date. The women he dated always seemed to have trouble sitting down - or even moving without a gasp of pain, for that matter - after a 'date' with him. After talking with a couple of them - quietly, of course - Bruce had discovered that the banker liked to tie up his unsuspecting victims, then spank, whip and torture them mercilessly. None of them ever complained and all of them spoke of him in reverent terms when it came to the actual sex part, but Bruce had never known a girl to voluntarily go on a second date with the banker.
Bill was not aware that the banker and Bruce had a history with each other. Bill was the rich patsy Bruce was using to pay the banker back the money he had embezzled. The payoff could be skimmed from the new building loan for Bill's new manufacturing plant and it should more than cover the banker's losses.
The problem the banker had with the whole arrangement was that there was too much 'fat' in the loan for the size of the building. He knew he was going to get paid back and didn't have a problem with where it came from, as long as it came in before it was missed. What concerned him was that the rest was just going to go to Bruce and it was enough money to bankrupt Bill's company. If that happened the company would default on the loan. A default on a loan that size would make everything that led up to it public. And that just wouldn't do.
When the banker finally did move to get his money back and to keep Bruce from getting any more easy money, he applied the screws to both Bill and Bruce. He had them both right where he wanted them. He had been quietly pressing Bruce to keep up his bargain that would get his money back. And up until three weeks ago he was considering blackmailing Bill, especially when he found out he was gay, and was that Bruce was living with him. Butler, my ass. He wasn't a fucking accountant, either...
The banker had seen Karin lying out by the pool on one of his rare visits to Bill's mansion. That day he had been there to pick up the latest company statements, and his mood was foul. He had walked by the huge windows that overlooked the pristine pool, automatically glanced out, a flash of brilliant color catching his attention. He nearly stumbled over a chair as he had done a double take at the sight of the beautiful near-naked creature lying there. His research had not picked up this piece of information. His eyes had glazed over, his heart beat like a trip hammer and his cock swelled up like a young bull in mating season. She was magnificent! Uncharacteristically for him, he immediately let the two faggots know of a way to make the loan go through, just the way it was written. Just give him one weekend with the girl. Longer, if it worked out.
The two gay lovers couldn't agree fast enough to give him Karin. Any way he wanted her. Bill didn't mention that she was his wife, but it wouldn't have mattered to the banker. They made arrangements for three weeks hence. She would be moved to an isolated apartment, unprotected, no alarms and no neighbors. Bill smiled coldly as he thought of the perfect location. All they had to do was get her to cooperate for the first part of the date.
Bruce thought that with the bitch out of the way and out of the house, he could consolidate his position with this rich businessman. For his part, Bill felt he had to protect his business at all costs. Karin, to him, was simply an asset he was finally able to put to use. The banker had threatened to expose him to his more pious clients and he couldn't let that happen. They would drum him out of business within a month. They wouldn't even need proof. Just the rumor of something not 'normal' was enough for them and their fat wives. God knows he'd ruined one of his more pesky competitors the same way and had passed on his share of gossip that he was sure had no basis in truth. He was in a precarious position until he could lower his manufacturing costs and he knew it. Karin was a write-off. So was Bruce, as soon as this was finished, but he didn't mention that little detail. The fucker was just a little too gay, even for Bill.
So they had ended up in the basement that sunny afternoon with Bruce using Karin as a punching bag to get her to agree to the deal.
Bill stepped up to the gasping girl. Tears leaked out below the blindfold and streaked down her flushed cheeks. Reaching out with both hands, he captured a bruised swollen nipple between each thumb and forefinger. Somewhat distastefully, he rolled them around, stimulated the hard buttons until they puffed up even larger.
"Karin, I want you to listen very carefully. I need you to do something for me. It's very important. If you don't agree to do it, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to let Bruce hit you some more until you do. Do you understand me?"
Karin fearfully nodded her head in the direction of the voice. She wasn't afraid of what Bruce might do to her. She was afraid, because this was the most words he had spoken to her since the day they were married. And he was talking to her as if she were an adult, too. If it was that important, she just knew she would mess it up.
"I want you to escort a friend of mine to a dance at a, uh, convention. He is a very important man and you will be nice to him. OK?"
Again she nodded, puzzled. All this for a date?
Bill suddenly twisted her nipples viciously, threatening to rip them off.
"I mean very nice, you stupid bitch. Do you understand what I mean? You will do anything he wants, right? Anything!"
The tight twisting of her nipples sent Karin over the edge she had been close to before the wind was knocked out of her. Skyrockets of light burst in her head and her cunt gushed slippery fluids down her long tanned thighs. She whipped her head back and forth in her ecstasy, screaming into the towel. This was better than her fingers by a long ways.
"Right, bitch?" Bill demanded again, emphasizing the question with another sadistic twist.
Coming down from her orgasm, Karin weakly nodded her agreement.
"What a fucking whore!" muttered Bruce, standing off to one side. "A fucking good-for-nothing cunt!" He had really wanted her to resist. He had dreamed of her resisting, ever since Bill had agreed to this bizarre technique.
Turning to Bill, he pleaded, "Let me give her some more, just to make sure she understands. Please?"
"No," came the answer.
Bill looked at the hanging girl. He noticed the excessive wetness between her thighs and poked an exploratory finger up into her pussy.
Karin jerked spastically at the unaccustomed intrusion by someone else's finger.
His manicured finger slithered between her slick puffy lips and entered her virginal tunnel. Part way in, the tip encountered a tough membrane.
A look of surprise crossed his face, followed quickly by outright rage.
"You BITCH!" he exploded, "You stupid fucking bitch! You're still a fucking VIRGIN! I figured you would have had the good sense to at least gotten rid of it in high school. Shit! You're too fucking stupid to have even done that right"
He looked around in a blind rage, seeking something, anything, to show her how incredibly worthless she was. Spying the perfect object, he grinned wickedly. It was just what he wanted. He stepped over to the cleaning closet and pulled out a soiled, stinking toilet plunger. Pulling a condom from the pocket of his open robe, he ripped opened the foil and slipped it onto the dirty wooden handle.
Bruce watched the proceedings with excited bright eyes, his stubby hardon bouncing with each beat of his rapidly beating heart. This was going to be even better than he had dared hope. He quivered with anticipation, his hand lost in the folds of his pajamas as he stroked his puny dick.
Bill strode back over to his suspended wife. He set the plunger on the floor next to her. Reaching up he grabbed the bottoms of her bikini and jerked the useless fabric off her thighs.
"Bruce, hold her legs apart. We've got a block in the plumbing and a plumber's helper to help," he said maliciously.
Bruce quickly moved behind the dazed girl and squatted down. He wanted to see this close up. This should finish the bitch. Raped by the plumber's helper. He grabbed an ankle in each hand and spread them as wide as he could.
Karin was now struggling as best she could, but she was tired. She had been hanging for almost 30 minutes and her shoulders and arms were sore from the strain. Each weak kick of her legs jerked her stressed joints painfully. It couldn't be good what they had planned. She had never heard such an evil tone, from anyone, much less her husband. She suddenly realized she didn't really know this man. She cried out fearfully, but it was too late. Her strength was sapped.
Bruce didn't have too difficult a job to spread her shapely legs and expose the target to Bill's advancing plunger. He gripped her slim ankles tighter than he needed to, leaving angry red marks on them.
Karin was not aware that she was about to be mechanically violated. She had heard the two men talking. She figured out that Bill was going to finally make her a woman. If it hadn't been for his anger and tone of voice, she would have been excited about it because she had waited for six months for him to exercise his conjugal rights. And, as far as she knew, now he was going to finally make her a woman.
She was unprepared for the sudden jab of the long hard handle into her cunt. The un-lubricated condom irritated the sensitive tender skin in her cunt. After advancing about two inches, the blunted head hit her hymen. She screamed into the thick towel gagging her. This pain was blinding, different than before. This just fucking hurt.
Bill nodded silently to Bruce, who tightened his grip on her ankles. With a fierce hateful yell and a twisting lunge, Bill shoved the handle forcefully into Karin's virgin tunnel, forcing the handle of the plunger past the thin membrane barrier. It parted with an almost audible tearing sound.
Karin screamed into the gag in horror, almost freeing her legs from the vicious grasp. White hot flashes coursed through her body. Searing, horrible pain. This was awful.
The handle continued in until the serial numbers on the condom covering the top of it were hidden in her soft pussy hairs. Bill yanked the handle out, then jabbed the handle in, then out, then in and out twice more. Satisfied that the disgusting unused conjugal passage was now clear, and his precious reputation protected, he set the toilet plunger down carefully on the basement floor. He wiped his shit covered hands on her heaving tits.
Bruce and Bill untied Karin's hands and let her drop heavily to the floor. Her rubbery legs wouldn't support her. They left her lying there on the cold concrete floor to come to her senses by herself. Bill also left the bloody rubber on the handle of the stinking plunger. He wanted that bloody stick to be the first thing that she saw. He hoped she realized it for what it was - her first God-damned lover.
Ma/Fa / Fa/Fa / Teenagers / Consensual / Romantic / NonConsensual / Rape / Slavery / Lesbian / Heterosexual / BDSM / DomSub / MaleDom / FemaleDom / Spanking / Rough / Light Bond / Sadistic / Torture / First / Oral Sex / Anal Sex / Masturbation / Sex Toys / Exhibitionism / Needles / Violent /