Pet
Copyright© 2026 by PriapusGod
Chapter 2
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Nerd teen discovers sex.
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Reluctant Fiction Sharing BDSM DomSub MaleDom Humiliation Gang Bang Orgy Anal Sex Double Penetration Exhibitionism First Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Voyeurism Public Sex AI Generated
I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Three days later and every time I closed my eyes I was back on that couch, holes stretched wide, cum leaking out of me like a broken faucet. My pussy still ached when I sat down in lecture hall. My asshole clenched every time I shifted in my chair, remembering how full it had felt with two cocks rubbing together inside me. I’d fingered myself raw that night in my dorm, tasting the dried cum I’d missed on my tits, coming so hard I had to bite my pillow so my roommate wouldn’t hear.
I told myself it was a one-time mistake. I was a nerd, a virgin—no, not anymore—a good girl who studied organic chemistry and cried over bad grades. But my body betrayed me. My clit throbbed every time I remembered the bartender’s voice calling me little girl, the way they used me like a cheap fleshlight. By Thursday I was scrolling through my phone at 2 a.m., staring at the fake ID, pulse racing. By Friday afternoon I was soaked through my panties just walking past the bar on my way home from class. Saturday morning I shaved everything smooth, picked out the same tight black dress, no underwear, and told myself I was just going for one drink.
I knew I was lying.
I walked in at 8:45, legs already shaky. The place was busier, but the bartender spotted me instantly. Same shaved head, same tattooed arms, same cold smirk. I stepped up to the bar, heart slamming, and opened my mouth to say something stupid like “Hi, I’m—”
He cut me off with a sharp “Shh.” Grabbed my wrist the same way he had last time and dragged me through the STAFF ONLY door without another word. The back room was empty this time—no waiters, just the low hum of the bar outside. He locked the door, turned, and looked me up and down like I was already naked.
“I don’t do names,” he said, voice low and flat. “If we need them, you call me Master. I call you Pet. That’s it.”
I swallowed, tried to speak anyway—some dumb instinct to introduce myself, to pretend this was normal. “I just wanted to—”
His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my throat hard enough to make my eyes water. He squeezed, not cutting off air completely but close. “Do you understand me, Pet?”
My knees went weak. The pressure on my neck sent heat straight to my cunt. I nodded frantically.
He didn’t let go. “Say it.”
“Yes ... Master.”
“Good pet.” His grip loosened. He took my hand—almost gentle now—and led me through another door I hadn’t noticed last time, into a smaller room. Dim red lighting, a big bed with black sheets, hooks on the walls, a table covered in toys I didn’t even have names for yet. My stomach flipped with fear and raw want.
“Strip.”
I did, dress hitting the floor in seconds. Naked, nipples tight, pussy already glistening. He turned to the table, mixed the same drink—vodka, that sweet-chemical aphrodisiac from the little brown bottle. Three glasses again. I drank every one he put to my lips. The heat hit faster this time, spreading like liquid fire through my veins, making my clit swell and my holes clench around nothing.
He pointed at the floor in front of him. “Kneel.”
I dropped. He unzipped, pulled out that long curved cock I already knew too well. It was half-hard, heavy, veins pulsing. I opened my mouth like a good little slut and took him in. Salt and musk flooded my tongue. I sucked eagerly, bobbing my head, tongue swirling the underside the way I’d practiced on my dildo all week.