I Belong to Snake Now
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Blackmail, Slavery, Fiction, BDSM, MaleDom, Rough, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, Prostitution,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A naÃ¯ve young wife who spends too much time home alone begins to explore the internet for the first time. After a few relatively harmless chats she finds herself being blackmailed into becoming a sex slave to a big bad biker.
I have just learned a valuable lesson. It has been, and continues to be, a very costly lesson. Let me tell you about it.
My name is Ashley. I am twenty-two, 5'6", 115, bright red hair, and as of just over a year ago, very married. I met my husband in college and we married as soon as I graduated last year. He graduated a year ahead of me and is already well on his way to being the next Donald Trump, except for the hair of course.
My husband, Jay, is an old fashioned kind of guy. He doesn't want his wife to work. He is in charge in the home. We are deeply religious and go to church every Sunday.
I am home all day and I guess I have entirely too much free time since we don't have any kids yet. There are just the two of us and a lot of nights Jay works until very late. So I spend a lot of time home alone. On those days when Jay doesn't come home until very late, the amount of housework required the next day is pretty much just rinse out the coffee pot!
Recently we bought a new computer from a local company that builds them to order. They have their own IP service and they offered us a great deal when we bought the computer, so we signed up with them.
I used a computer in college of course. But it was strictly for school work and email to friends and relatives. It wasn't until a few months ago, after we got the new computer and I was bored one day, that I discovered chat rooms.
At first I just went into rooms and did what they call lurking. I would observe the way people behaved and the things they said, the shorthand that they used. Gradually I started taking part in the conversations. That would have been fine. Except that I started going into chat rooms that a married woman, especially a newlywed, should not be going into. I started having conversations that were more and more erotic. I started saying things to complete strangers that I would never even say to my husband!
It was fun! It was exciting! A couple of times I tried what they call net sex. But I felt kind of silly. I preferred having long, sexually charged conversations. I went way beyond baring my soul to perfect strangers. I made terrible things up just to make it more exciting. I would tell guys that I had done things that I had never even heard of before I started visiting chat rooms.
That wasn't bad enough though. They kept asking for pictures. I had a digital camera and I put it on a tripod and took some innocent pictures. They were just clear enough that you could tell what a nice figure I have. You couldn't see my face and I always had all of my clothes on ... at first.
There were a couple of guys that I talked with regularly. I felt safe with them. They were smart and funny and sexy and on the other side of the country. I broke down and sent one of them a picture with my face in it. Later, I let the other guy talk me into sending him pictures of me in just a bra and panty, but my face wasn't visible. In some of them I was even touching myself.
In all of our chats I was telling these men things I made up, as if I had done them. They were raunchy things. I frequently described fantasies that were even worse. It was safe, I thought. They didn't know my name. They knew me only by my screen name, sexycindy1986. They didn't know where I lived. There was just no way that they could find me.
Everything was fine until two weeks ago, at one o'clock in the morning! The phone rang and woke me up. Luckily my husband is a light sleeper. He has such a problem with it that he wears ear plugs to bed. He never hears anything. I quickly grabbed the phone. My heart was in my throat. I thought surely that a loved one had been in an accident or something. Why else would our phone ring at one in the morning?
I said, "Hello?" quietly into the phone.
There was a brief pause and then a male voice said, "Hello sexycindy1986. That's such a mouthful, do you mind if I call you Ashley?"
I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I was certain that one of the two men I chatted with regularly had somehow figured out who I was and where I lived. I was about to find out that it was even worse than that.
"Who is this?" I asked, in a near panic.
There was an evil chuckle in my ear and the voice said, "Go check your email." Then he hung up.
I checked to make sure that Jay was still asleep and I slipped quietly out of bed. With my heart in my throat I hurried to the computer room. I turned on the computer and sat there waiting with my heart pounding so loud I couldn't hear the computer boot up.
When it was finally ready I checked my email and there was an email from "yourworstnightmare". I hesitated for the longest time. I was terrified, but finally I had to know what it said. I clicked on it and opened it and the first thing I saw was half a dozen pictures of me. My face was in them. And that was bad enough. But he had also included the shots of me in my underwear. He even had the sexy pictures that showed me touching myself over my bra and panty.
These were the pictures I had sent to my two chat room friends. But they were the pictures I had sent to both of them! I had sent them each different pictures!
It got worse. I scrolled down and came to the text of the email. There were excerpts from my chats with both men, some of the most awful things. The way I had said them it sounded like I was doing those terrible things. Things like having sex with lots of different men when my husband was at work. Going out in slutty clothes and picking up large numbers of strange men. I once claimed that I had also picked up women. In one conversation I even claimed to have had sex with the teenage boy that mowed our grass! I had gone out of my way to make these things sound believable and I had been very descriptive.
At the end of the email, "yourworstnightmare" said, "I have transcripts of every conversation you have had since you bought your computer. If you don't want your husband to see them then you had best come to 5711 Lawton Lane at nine in the morning. Goodnight, sleep well."
I read the email several times, trying desperately to figure out who might be behind it. Trying even more desperately to figure out how I could explain those things to my husband. He was a deeply religious and very straight laced man. He would never believe that these were all fantasies and lies told to excite both me and the men I was talking to. Even if he did believe it, he would find it unacceptable! I was going to be divorced either way. SHIT!!
I finally turned the computer off and went back to bed. Jay heard me coming back to bed and asked if everything was alright. I told him I had gone to the bathroom and he went right back to sleep. I lay awake for hours with a horrible dread running through me.
I got up with Jay in the morning and made breakfast as usual while he got ready for work. After he went to work I turned the computer on and read the email again. I was going crazy trying to find some way out of this. I couldn't imagine how someone local could have all of this information.
While I was sitting in front of the computer, more or less in a stupor, I received another email from "yourworstnightmare". I didn't open it at first. I was afraid to. After putting off the inevitable for as long as possible I knew that I didn't have a choice and I opened it. The email contained a map to the address I had been ordered to go to this morning with directions from my driveway to his. There was also another picture of me in my underwear. I was holding my breasts, still covered in my conservative bra, in my hands as if offering them up to a lover.
It was getting late so I showered and did my makeup. Then I tried to decide what to wear. All of my clothing is quite conservative. That's how I dress. That's who I am.
I selected a navy skirt and a plain white top with a matching navy jacket. I dressed and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't know for sure what this was about. But it seemed obvious that the point was sexual blackmail. We were just starting out and had very little money. I was being very careful to dress in a way that could not possibly give the wrong impression.
I didn't know who was doing this, or how I was going to get out of it. But I had to get out of it. I couldn't possibly do anything of a sexual nature with someone outside of my marriage!
I have always been shy and self conscious about my body. I know that I have a good figure. But it makes me uncomfortable when people notice. Every time a man looks at me and I see his eyes glance down at my figure I blush. I can't help it. Jay is the only man that has seen me naked or touched me.
I allowed a high school boyfriend to touch my breasts over my clothing on several occasions. It was very exciting. I'm not a robot. I have needs and desires. But it was also very wrong and I stopped seeing him before he could push me any farther.
My husband and I started dating while he was a senior and I was a junior in college. We started "going steady" almost as soon as we started dating. We seemed to be perfect for each other. He would be the strong father figure in my life and he had vowed to take care of me forever. We shared our strong religious principles and morals. He was the man I had always dreamed that my husband would be. He was cute too!
Jay asked me to marry him four months before I graduated from college. I accepted, totally without reservation. From that time on, we often went a little farther on dates than I had ever gone previously. I would sometimes let him put my hand on his thing through his pants. I didn't do anything. I didn't masturbate him or anything like that. I just held my hand there. He seemed to really enjoy being touched. I guess I could understand that.
As time passed I began to allow him greater liberties. He would sometimes touch my thighs under my skirt, or cup my breast inside my top. But always through my bra. There were still limits. We were never more intimate than that before our wedding.
It was well worth the wait. When the day of our wedding finally arrived we left for our honeymoon pure and untouched. That week was a week of wonder and exploration and excitement and we both knew that it had been worth the wait.
Now some strange man was insisting that I go to his home and I can only assume that he intended to have sex with me. It just wasn't possible. I would not be able to do it. I would go there and explain that I had gotten carried away in those chats and I deeply regretted it. But it was just for titillation. I never had any intention of ever doing anything with anyone but my husband. I still don't!
I looked at the map that he had sent me. The street was less than a mile from my house. I would have to leave my subdivision, go out to the main road and turn left, away from town. The next street off of the main road was Lawton. I didn't like the idea that this pervert lived so near to my home.
It was finally time to go and get this over with. I got in my car and drove to his house. It was not as well kept as his neighbors on the street. The grass needed mowing. There was a big motorcycle parked outside the garage, right beside the pickup truck with all of the redneck stickers on the back window.
I drove past the first time. I couldn't bring myself to stop there. I knew I had no choice though. I had to face him and put an end to this. I parked at the curb in front of the house. I walked slowly up the driveway. I was so nervous I was having trouble breathing.
I could hear music coming from inside the house. I had to knock loudly several times before someone finally answered the door. The man who answered the door was in his mid to late thirties, tall, at least 6'2", and big. He looked like one of those men who had once lifted weights but had stopped. He was still strong, but he was getting a bit of a beer gut. He also looked kind of mean. I began to suspect that it was going to be very difficult to reason with him. Oh, and he also looked familiar. But as hard as I tried, I could not remember where I had seen him before.
He didn't say anything when he came to the door. He looked at me for a moment and then stood back and held the door for me to come in. I tried to tell him that I did not want to enter his house. I had just come to reason with him. I was stuttering and stammering and finally he said, "Shut the fuck up and get your dumb ass in here, cunt!"
I could not have been more shocked if he had struck me! In my entire life no one had ever spoken to me in that manner, or used that course language in my presence. I wanted to slap his face. Instead, he reached out and grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me into his living room.
Once I was inside he shut the door and walked around me to sit in an old recliner. He looked up at me for a minute. I glanced at him and it was obvious he was enjoying my discomfort.
I started to speak again, still not knowing exactly what I could say, but knowing that I had to get out of this place.
I uttered a few unintelligible sounds but he interrupted to say, "You really are a stupid cunt, aren't you? Do all of your friends call you clueless?"
"What!" I managed to gasp out. "No! And please don't use that language around me. I won't stand for it!"
He laughed at me. "What's the matter, cunt? You don't like being called cunt? I'll call you any god damned thing I want and you will smile and say 'yes sir'. Got it?"
"Please, don't use the lord's name in vain! I only came here to reason with you. I am not the kind of person you think I am. Those chats, they were ... I don't know, just harmless playing. I am not really that kind of person. I don't know how you got those pictures or those chat-logs. But you have to destroy them and not contact me anymore. Do you understand?" I sounded weak and ineffectual even to myself.
He laughed in my face. "Sorry, cunt, not gonna happen. I got your sweet ass right where I want it. I think that you are going to find our days together very educational."
He got up and pulled me over to the sofa and pushed me down. The place was so dirty and messy that I was uncomfortable about touching anything. But I was too numb to resist him.
He sat beside me and pulled a folder on the coffee table closer and opened it up. Inside were 8X10s of all of the pictures, copies of all of the chat logs, and a list of names and addresses. The list contained the names of both Jay's parents and my own, our grandparents, our neighbors, our closest friends, Jay's boss and several of his co-workers. It also listed our Pastor and many of the most influential people in our church.
I suddenly knew I was going to throw up. I looked around and couldn't see the bathroom so I ran to the kitchen and was sick in the sink. When I was finished I rinsed the sink out and then rinsed my face and my mouth. The only towel I saw was too filthy to touch. So I used a paper towel to dry my face and hands. I looked into the living room and he was still sitting where I had left him on the sofa.
I went into the living room and, realizing I was trapped, I asked him what he wanted from me.
"You are one hot bitch," he said. "I don't think you have any idea how hot you are. That's okay though, I do. I am going to teach you all about sex. You are going to learn how to fuck and suck on command. I can see that I am definitely going to have to teach you how to dress!"
"You don't understand," I tried one last time. "I have never been with anyone but my husband. I just couldn't!"
He ordered me to go get him a beer from the refrigerator. I didn't want to do it. I realized that any time I obeyed an order of his I would be surrendering just a little more. I stared at him for a moment, aware of the implied threat. He didn't even have to put the threat into words. I knew I was beaten.
I got up and went to the kitchen and got his beer from the refrigerator. I was disgusted by the inside of the refrigerator. I don't think he had ever cleaned it out. I took the beer in and handed it to him. It wasn't even 9:30 in the morning yet and he was drinking a beer!
He saw the disapproval in my face and he laughed and said, "I always drink beer while I watch a strip show. Now, I want you to start taking those damned clothes off. Take as much time as you like, we have all day."
I stood in front of this horrible man in shock, unable to move. He picked up a small remote control and pointed it at a camera on a tripod nearby and told me to start.
I looked at the camera and I panicked. It was all just too much. I collapsed to my knees and put my face in my hands and sobbed. He just watched. When I finally had recovered enough to look at him through my tears he was smiling. He was actually enjoying my suffering! Oh my god! What have I gotten myself into?!
I tried to plead again. I begged him. I told him I couldn't possibly undress in front of a man other than my husband. I certainly could not undress in front of a camera! I glanced at the camera and noticed that the red light was still on. It was recording me even now!
"You stupid cunt! Get the fuck up! I was intending to start you out kind of easy. But if you don't pull yourself together and get with the program here, I am going to have to take my belt to your sweet ass. Now god damn it, you know you got no way out of this. So get the fuck off the floor and start taking your clothes off. Or if you would rather, I suppose I could call a few friends over and we could take your clothes off. Would you prefer that?"
I struggled to my feet and wiped my eyes and my nose with the damp paper towel that I still had in my hands from when I had washed my face at the sink. I put the paper towel in the side pocket of my jacket and then I slipped my jacket off and dropped it on the coffee table. I stepped out of my shoes and I slowly unbuttoned my blouse, pulling it out of my skirt as I reached the bottom. I took a deep breath and let it slide down my shoulders. I covered my chest with my arm and dropped the blouse on top of my jacket.
I wanted to disappear. I knew that there was no use in begging anymore. I just didn't think I could do this. My body had always been sacred to me. To be undressing in this hovel for the amusement and eventual sexual gratification of the cretin seated on the couch, well, it was just unimaginable!
He didn't rush me. He was enjoying my discomfort as much as he was going to enjoy my partial nudity. I glanced at him and the look of pleasure on his face made my discomfort even worse. I quickly looked away, but it was hard to find a place to look. If I looked down I saw the 8X10s spread out on the coffee table. If I looked away I saw the movie camera filming my humiliation. Finally I found myself staring at a Playboy calendar on the wall behind my tormentor.
But I couldn't stand like this forever. I took a deep breath and dropped my arm, allowing him to see my bra covered breasts. I lowered my arms self consciously and unfastened my skirt and slid it off. I held onto it so that it wouldn't fall to the filthy floor. I stepped out of it as gracefully as possible.
I dropped my skirt on the growing pile of my clothing and took another deep breath to try and steady my nerves. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my pantyhose and started rolling them down. Again, I stepped out of them without allowing them to touch the floor.
Now I was dressed in only my modest bra and panties. The idea of the next step was so very abhorrent that I was actually shivering. I finally reached behind my back and unhooked my bra. I held it in front of me, still cupping my breasts as the shoulder straps slid down and I pulled my arms free. Finally I pulled the bra away from my breasts, but I continued to cover them with my arm. With my other arm I dropped my bra on the pile of conservative clothing I had worn this morning so that this man wouldn't get the wrong idea.
Oh sweet Jesus! How could I do this?! There was, of course, no answer. No bolt of lightning struck me ... or him. Finally I dropped my arm and bared my breasts to the monster that now had my life and my marriage in his hands. It didn't help that he whistled in appreciation when my breasts came into view.
Like most women my age, I suppose, I have very firm breasts. They are a bit on the small side and stick out straight from my chest. They are also very sensitive. More sensitive than most I think. Sometimes, when Jay is caressing them and playing with my nipples I think that if he would just do that a little more, or a little harder, I could actually have an orgasm. Of course I couldn't tell Jay what to do. Still, it is always pleasant when he touches me there.
Now it was time for the final indignity. I realized, however, that this would not be anywhere near the final indignity. This man is going to rape me. And I am going to have to let him. Not just this time. Not just today. There will be many more rapes to come. It just isn't fair!
I slid my panties down over my hips and down to just below my knees and stepped out of them. I was very careful to keep my thighs pressed as tightly together as possible. I started to drop my underwear on the pile but he held out his hand and I dropped them in his hand instead. He stared at me as he brought my underwear to his face and inhaled deeply. I wouldn't have thought that I could be any more embarrassed. I was wrong.
I stood still for a long time and then he ordered me to turn around. I turned until my back was toward him and I swear I could feel his eyes on me as I stood naked in front of him.
Then he ordered me to face the camera. When I was facing the camera he ordered me to lace my fingers behind my neck and to hold my elbows out to my side. I did as he ordered. It was just one more indignity. I spread my legs a couple of feet apart when he commanded me.
I remained like that for several minutes while he sat, sipping his beer and staring at my naked body. He finally put his beer down, got to his feet and stepped behind me. I shivered when I felt his hand caressing my back, sliding down and moving over my buttocks. I started to cry again, softly, hopelessly. I knew he would enjoy that too, which only made it worse.
I felt him exploring my body with his large rough hands, even moving his fingers into the crevice between my nether cheeks! There was no more resistance in me though. Every time I thought to resist I realized that not only would it be futile, but it would serve to increase the pleasure he took from desecrating my body and my soul.
I felt him move closer to me. His rough clothing pressed up against my back and he reached around and took my breasts into his hands. I noticed a mirror against the wall behind the camera. When I saw myself being molested this way I shut my eyes. But my tormentor would not allow me to hide behind my eyelids. He was watching me in the mirror and he ordered me to open my eyes and watch.
I opened my eyes and stared in shock as this evil man grasped, squeezed, pulled and twisted my firm young breasts. It was obvious that he was hurting me. It was equally obvious that hurting me was something he enjoyed. Fleetingly the thought flashed through my brain that it was such a shame that suicide was a mortal sin, for that seemed to be the only way out of this mess.
He began to concentrate on my nipples. They were already erect, much to my further shame. He squeezed and pulled and twisted them cruelly. It was totally unlike the gentle way that Jay treated them.
To my horror, I felt the sensations like electric shocks traveling all the way to my clitoris. I quickly realized that if he did not stop what he was doing I was going to have an orgasm. I just knew that if I did I would die of shame!
He didn't stop though, and I did have an orgasm. I sank down, unable to support my own weight and sobbed into my hands once more. But I didn't sink to the floor. He held me up, one strong hand grasping my breast and the other moving down and forcing its way between my thighs.
The very idea that some man besides Jay would have his hand on my vagina was just totally unimaginable! Yet here I was with a stranger, a man intent on using me for his sexual pleasure. Worse than that, he was a cruel man whose pleasure was intensified by my suffering.
"Oh my god," I thought, "How could I have had an orgasm at the hands of this monster?!" I would never be the same now. I was truly a fallen woman.
I was finally able to regain my footing and support myself. Meanwhile, his hand continued to explore my vagina, roughly rubbing and then finally penetrating me with one of his large fingers. I cried out in anguish as he entered me.
He pulled me closer and whispered in my ear. He told me in the most awful, most obscene language what he was going to do to me, and what I was going to do to him. I just shook my head weakly back and forth and whimpered. No longer even pleading, not resisting. I was just reacting to each new humiliation in the only way that I could.
Finally he released me and stepped back. He stood me in profile to the camera and ordered me to undress him. I wiped the tears from my eyes with the backs of my hands and gingerly grabbed the hem of the dirty, ragged t-shirt he was wearing. Carefully, so as not to actually touch his skin any more than necessary, I worked the shirt up his torso and over his head. I dropped it beside the pile of my clothes on the table and then I dropped to my knees and unfastened his belt and his jeans.
I tried not to look at the large throbbing erection tenting out the front of his shorts as I slid his jeans down and he stepped out of them. I dropped his jeans and tried to keep my total revulsion under control as I gingerly pinched the waist of his shorts in my fingers and carefully pulled them down.
I was shocked when his penis came into view and I was finally forced to actually see it. It looked huge! It was much, much larger than Jay's. It was much uglier too. I knew that they came in assorted sizes of course. I had just never expected to be kneeling with my face mere inches from some stranger's penis. I had certainly not expected a penis that I would estimate to be at least eight inches long. And so frightfully thick! I did not think it possible that he would be able to put that horrible thing in me!
After I had removed his shorts he took his organ in his hand and rubbed it over my face. I started to pull away reflexively. I couldn't avoid it. But he grabbed my hair in his hand and held me in place.
There was a clear liquid coming out of the hole in the tip. I knew that when men became excited their penises excreted lubrication. I had never actually seen it before. I certainly had never had my face this close to Jay's penis! I had never actually touched it with my hands except a few times, playfully, but always through his clothing.
Now this horrible man was rubbing his organ all over my face, leaving a trail of slimy wetness like a snail wherever it touched me. I felt it as he moved it slowly over my cheeks and my eyelids, down to my chin and then across my lips. I felt like I might vomit again. I very nearly did. But when I started to gag he slapped me. Hard! Right on my face!
I had never been hit before! Never in my entire life! I was shocked. My eyes opened and I saw the huge penis less than an inch from my nose.
"Kiss it," he ordered, quietly but firmly.
I tried to pull away. I was sure that I could not do that. I wasn't totally naïve. I knew that there were women who did that sort of thing. I even knew that it was almost common. I also knew that it wasn't normal. It wasn't right. Good women like me most certainly did not touch a man's sexual organ with their lips!
The man tightened his grip on my hair again and held me tight. "You know," he said in a conversational tone, as though talking to a friend about the weather, "I have never fucked a redhead before. I am really looking forward to this. It just tickled the hell out of me when you dropped your drawers and I saw that the carpet matched the drapes. I knew it would. But it sure looks hot."
I didn't have the slightest idea what he was talking about. But I knew what he was doing. He pulled my face back to his large organ and placed the tip of it to my lips.
"Now kiss it, cunt."
I closed my eyes but he yelled at me to keep them open.
I opened my eyes and looked at his swollen stomach as I pursed my lips and obeyed yet another of his humiliating commands. When I had kissed him he pulled my face away and ordered me to lick my lips.
I obeyed. I had no choice.
I was surprised that the slimy fluid oozing from his penis did not seem to have a taste. Still, when I obeyed his order and ran my tongue over my lips I started to gag again. The very idea of what I was doing was sickening beyond belief.
When I started gagging he pulled his hand up as though to slap me again. I cringed in fear and I managed to regain control before he hit me again.
He slowly pulled my face towards his penis again and when the slimy end of it was at my lips he ordered me to stick my tongue out and lick it, all over.
I groaned in shame as I forced myself to obey. I licked all around the head of his organ, repulsed by what I was forced to do. I was startled by the sudden violent twitching of his penis when my tongue touched him. It moved like it was alive!
He moaned in pleasure as I started licking his ugly male organ. It was difficult. It kept moving around as though it was trying to escape me. Chasing it around with my tongue made what I was doing just that much more humiliating.
When I had been licking for some time he guided my face down and I was forced to lick the dirty, ugly, hairy, smelly sack containing his testicles. How could so many women allow themselves to be used like this?!
Once his testicles were covered in my saliva he pulled my face back up and said, "Okay, baby. That's enough foreplay. Now it's time for the main act. Wrap your pretty pink lips around that fucking thing and let's see how much of it you can swallow."
I wasn't stupid. I had every reason to believe this was coming. But still, how could I actually allow a man to put his penis in my mouth?!
I shuddered in revulsion, praying that I would be able to get through this. I opened my mouth wide and he laughed at me as he slowly pushed his nasty organ into me. "You sure got a lot to learn about cocksucking," he said in a tone that let me know how stupid he thought I was.
"But don't worry," he continued. "You're going to get lots and lots of practice."
I closed my lips around his penis as he pushed it into me. "Watch your teeth!" he warned me.
I struggled to obey his instructions. I knew that I wasn't doing it very well. But then, it had never been a talent that I intended to develop. As I struggled to do what he wanted so that he wouldn't hurt me again he laughed derisively and said, "Damn you are stupid cunt, aren't you? Alright, that's it. That's a little better. Move that tongue around, bitch."
He was moving in and out of my mouth slowly. Each time he moved in he pushed a little deeper into my mouth. He began hitting the back of my throat with the tip of his penis on every stroke and I was started gagging again. I couldn't help it. And I had no idea how to stop it.
At first he just watched my reaction and ignored it. He just kept forcing his organ into the back of my throat. When I couldn't control my gag reflex he started slapping me again.
Every time I would gag, which was on every stroke, he would slap my face. These were not gentle slaps. He was hitting me hard. I began crying hysterically. I was crying and gagging and gasping for breath and desperate for this to be over.
He suddenly grabbed my head in both of his large, strong hands and pulled my head towards him as he thrust into my mouth with his hips and his penis suddenly slid all the way into my throat. Suddenly I had my lips stretched wide around the base of his smelly organ!
"Oh yes!" he screamed. "Holy shit! Yeah, bitch! That's fucking fantastic! There might be hope for you yet!"
That was when I felt it. I felt his penis pulsing in my throat and I knew what was happening. I couldn't breath. I wanted to throw up again. I was pushing with all my might on his thighs and I was sure I was going to die with my lips around the base of this man's sex organ!
Just before I passed out he pulled back, very, very slowly. He stopped with the tip still resting in my mouth and I tasted the last few drops of his ejaculate on my tongue.
"You may be one dumb cunt," he said contemptuously, "but it looks like you are going to be a pretty good cocksucker after all! With a lot more practice of course. I gotta admit, not many bitches can take my cock down their fucking throats."
Did he have to talk like that? It seemed to make it so much worse that he was so coarse.
He stepped back when his penis was finished drooling the last few drops of his semen into my mouth. I wanted to spit it out. But I saw him watching me and somehow I knew that would just get me hit again.
So I swallowed, managing to control my gag reflex this time. It was very painful to swallow. What made it worse was that I realized that he was going to make me do this again, probably often. I couldn't take much more of this. I would not be able to live like this. I even thought of killing him. Unfortunately, I knew I couldn't. It just wasn't in me to take a life. Not even when it was this animal.