The Fuck of Her Life
Copyright© 2026 by Ashley
Chapter 2
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - When Jennifer gets caught by an unexpected squall while hiking in the foothills, she takes shelter in a fortuitously located cabin. She's still drying out her wet clothes when the cabin's owner turns up. The title says it all, really, about what happens next. The sex in this story is somewhat rougher than I usually write, so please check the tags; I'd really hate to offend or upset anyone.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction MaleDom Light Bond Rough Anal Sex Facial Masturbation Oral Sex
His lips touch yours, gently at first, but oh, so passionately. Most girls would love this, but you’re not most girls - you have ... unusual tastes. You moan softly, to lull him into a false sense of security, and then kiss your way slowly around his chiselled jawline to his ear. His hand gently strokes your inner thighs - it’s nice, but you don’t want nice. You sink your teeth into the fleshy part of his earlobe: hard - not quite hard enough to draw blood - but hard enough to make him flinch and try to draw back.
“What he fu--” he begins, trying to pull away, but you don’t let him; growling low in your throat, you keep him pinned. He puts his hand around your jaw, digging his fingers in near the joints, and lifting you as he squeezes hard. You struggle, your legs flailing, knowing that he’ll be seeing your panties. Liking that he’ll be seeing your panties! God, you are so, so wet now, dangling from this man’s powerful arm. He’s even stronger than you hoped, and he finally forces your jaws apart, releasing his earlobe, and then straightens. Looking down at you, his eyes flash with a mixture of amazement and anger.
“If I let you go, will you behave?” he asks, his voice sounding calm, even though you can see from the bulge - the truly massive bulge - in his pants that he’s anything but calm.
“Nghhh!” you cry as loud as you can, your legs parting as you kick out at him, sure that he must be able to see - and smell - how turned on you are! “Nghhh! Hhhhgk hhhyuhh!!”
He frowns, and his eyes narrow. “Do you want me to hurt you?” he asks, sounding confused.
“Nnn,” you grunt resignedly, going limp. Yet another man who doesn’t understand what I truly fucking need!
“Oh,” he says, seeing your evident disappointment. “Is that what you want?” Does he really understand? you wonder, hardly daring to believe it. In your mind, men should be the stronger of the species, taking what they want from you, using you, not ‘in touch with their feminine sides’ and all that fucking shit.
He tosses you casually back into the chair, like an unwanted doll, and walks away. Fuck! No! No! No! No! I’ve frightened another one away! You really thought that this man might be the one who would truly get you. Who would let his animal side free to use you, and abuse you until you scream for mercy.
You turn your head away, not wanting him to see the tears of frustration building in the corners of your eyes. Then you hear a sound. It’s a familiar sound, the z-z-z-z-z-zt of a zip tie. Your heart begins to race, and you turn back to see him approaching you with a big, fat tie between his teeth - his ferally grinning teeth. “It seems this little girl needs to be tamed,” he says, but still very much in control.
“Never!” you shout, wanting to inflame him more. “Not by a pathetic, weak pussy like you!” The exact opposite of what you’re hoping and praying that he is.
You see his eyes flash with anger, just briefly. “Too bad!” he replies, lunging for you. There’s a brief struggle, totally committed on your part, but you can feel how easy it is for him. It ends with both your wrists painfully stretched behind your back, clamped in one of his, then you groan joyfully as he takes the zip tie and slips it over them, pulling it tight. Oh fuck, maybe he is the one...
“Let me go!” you shout. “Let me go, you...” You’re lost for words as you stare up at this magnificent creature towering over you. “ ... you ... you ... pansy, you!” you finish lamely. He just laughs and picks you up with his hands around your waist and carries you over to the table. There’s a chair there, a primitive, sturdy thing, the back and seat made from planks, and four legs obviously roughly hewn from logs. He kicks it out and then drops you down so that your arms are looped over the back, very effectively restraining you.
You’re almost on your tiptoes, so your struggles are confined to throwing your weight from side to side, but the heavy chair barely moves. All the time you’ve been thrashing around, he’s been watching you, an amused smile on his lips. But as your strength begins to fade, he approaches you.
“Are you going to be--” he starts to say, but you lunge your head forward, and your teeth snap together as he dodges and you narrowly miss his cheek. Frustrated, you kick out at him, but he skips away easily.
He laughs again, that deep, throaty, masculine sound that makes your vagina clench hard, and you leak a little into your panties, adding to the mess already there.
You crane your head around as he goes behind you, and then shake your head wildly as he puts what seems to be a black beany hat over your head and eyes. Now completely blinded, you strain your ears, trying to hear where he is, kicking out occasionally, but missing each time.
“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” he says, sounding pleased. Then you feel his hand on your breast, squeezing it hard, and he pinches your hard nipple between his fingertips, sending jolts of pleasure straight down your spine and into your swollen clit. It’s all you can do not to moan in sheer unadulterated joy.
“Is that all you’ve got!” you cry, lashing out and landing a very satisfying blow on what feels like a shin.
Everything goes quiet for what feels like a long time, and the anticipation of where he’ll touch you next is killing you. Then you feel his hand around your ankle, yanking it to the side. Even though you struggle and kick at him with the other foot, he clamps it to the chair leg, and then you hear the familiar sound of a zip tie again as he tightens it just below your knee. Now almost totally immobilized, the second leg is easy for him, leaving you standing with your legs apart, totally at his mercy, and you fucking love it! He can do anything he likes with you, but will he do what you need?!
“Is that what you get off on,” you taunt, “tying up girls much smaller than you, so that you can do unspeakable things to them?!” Oh God, please, please let him do unspeakable things to me!
“If you weren’t so bitey and kicky, I wouldn’t have to,” he answers, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
“Frightened of a little girl, are you? Not such a fucking big--” You’re shocked out of finishing what you’re saying as you feel him lift the jumper and grab the front of your underwear. There’s a ripping sound, and suddenly the air is cool on your soaking wet vulva and labia.
“You have a potty mouth, bitey Jennifer,” he says with a hint of venom, and then forces your mouth open and stuffs the panties inside. Unlike most women, or at least what most women say, you aren’t that keen on your own taste, but as your juices flood your mouth, you at least appreciate that they’re particularly strong, tart, and pungent. Without your panties, you feel your juices running down the inside of your leg. Fuck! Have I ever been this turned on before?! Even though you poke at them with your tongue and contort your mouth, your makeshift gag is going nowhere.