Chapter 7 - the next few weeks
Poor Anne, when she dropped by the next week, Paul showed her the tape
a friend of mine had made of the entire evening. What that tape showed
was not a young girl, but a insatiable cum receptacle. With some very
minor editing it showed a girl who got off on the most filthy degradation.
Who could never get enough cum. And who came and came repeatedly.
After showing it, in front of her Paul put the tape in a box addressed to her
dad. Anne turned white as a ghost. She suddenly realized that the old tape
was tame stuff compared to this. For this her dad might very well kill her.
She turned to me with the look of an animal that knows it is about to die.
"Don't worry sweet slut" Paul told her. This will remain here as long as
you behave yourself. And then Paul slapped Anne as hard as he could.
Anne's hands flew to her cheek as the tears started and she backed away
from Paul.
"Come back here NOW Anne. In front of me with your hands down or by
god, I'll drive the tape over to your father now."
Anne stepped back braced for another slap. Paul reached up but didn't
slap. Instead he gently pushed her shoulders down, and moved her head so
it was back normally, not all tensed up. Then he slapped her again on the
other cheek, as hard as he could.
Anne dropped to the floor crying "why Paul, what do you want me to do,
just tell me" she begged.
"Get back up NOW he said" pulling her up. Paul's hands went to move her
around again but Anne knew what would follow and stayed tensed up. "If
you're not going to relax tell me now and I'll just take the tape and go."
"Please tell me what I did wrong. Oh god, please don't hit me. I'll do
anything, just tell me what you want me to do" Anne sobbed with tears
running down her cheeks.
"I want you to relax and hold still slut. Now do it before I loose my
patience."
Anne did the best she could, holding still with her eyes wild with fright.
Paul faked several slaps causing Anne to jerk and cry out. Finally, after the
fakes slowed her down, Paul let out another slap knocking her down again.
"Please please oh my god please tell me what I did" begged Anne. "I'll
suck your cock, I'll fuck you, I'll do anything you want."
Paul pulled her up as she kept babbling with fear. The look in her eyes had
him hard as a rock. It was pure victim. She didn't want to get hit but she
wouldn't defend herself. She would beg and plead and abase herself. But
she would stand there and take the slap. "there is no reason" he said. One
more should really get the message through.
Paul this time positioned her head perfectly for the slap. He lined his hand
up, making real clear it was coming. Anne closed her eyes in anticipation
so Paul told her to open them. Anne stared at Paul's hand in abject fear as
he swung and nailed her again.
But during the entire swing, Anne never moved out of the way. She didn't
know why Paul was hurting her. She knew the slap was coming and she
stood there and took it. Because Paul had the right to do anything to her.
With those slaps, those unexplained slaps, Paul tore away Anne's belief
that she could tell Paul no. She was his.
Paul then pushed her down on her knees and had her suck him off.
However, it wasn't gentle this time. Each time he pushed a little further
into her mouth ignoring her protestations. When Anne put up a hand to
hold stop his prick from going in as far Paul pulled out, slapped Anne
twice, and pumped back in, without saying a word. Anne kept her hands
down.
Pretty soon he was into her throat and then he was all the way banging her
nose into his crotch. Her young throat felt so good around his cock with her
gagging massaging his cock. Paul started holding his cock in for 20
seconds and then letting it our for Anne to take a breath.
Anne couldn't breathe. The last time out she hadn't gotten a good breath
and now Paul was down her throat again. She had to breathe, she reached
up and pushed at Paul, trying to get him to back out. Paul pulled out and
looked at her. She knew it was coming and held her face up for it.
But he didn't slap her. She opened up her eyes to see him looking at her.
He turned around and then he was holding something in his hands. Paul
flicked one of her tits with his finger. It hurt but it made her nipple stick
out. Then suddenly her tit was in agony. She reached for her tit but Paul
held her arms. She looked down and saw an alligator clip on her tit
squeezing it.
Paul then handed her the second clip and nodded toward her other nipple.
Oh god no she thought. I can't stand to have that on there. I can't put it
there. Then she heard him say "I can put it on your clit if you'd rather."
She had to do it. She was Paul's' sex toy and that's what he wanted. She
reached up and tried to gently release the clip on her nipple. It still hurt
like crazy.
Paul the grabbed her head and started fucking her throat again, holding her
head by the sides. She now had even more trouble breathing because her
nipples hurt so much that she sometimes forgot to take a breath. But even
when she was about to pass out she didn't raise her hands. Not to push
Paul, not to save her nipples.
And then Paul rammed her head against his cock, almost breaking her
nose against his pelvic bone and he pumped his cum directly into her
stomach. He held his cock all the way in her throat for the next 3 minutes
but his cock got small enough that she could breathe around it.
Then as she looked up at him in fear, Paul reached down and removed the
clips. Finally - relief. Anne held her mangled tits and waited to see what
was next. After what had transpired, the rest was pretty tame.
Paul had Anne watch porno flicks. Every afternoon when she could come
over, he had her watch the videos while playing with herself. Anne actually
came to enjoy this. The films turned her on and playing with the vibrator
felt good too.
It was not the kind of climaxes she had when Paul dragged her through the
gutter. But it was pleasant cum after pleasant cum. And after the first
afternoon, it was a welcome relief.
Sometime while watching Paul would walk in and have her blow him.
Nothing major, just a blow job and then back to the movie. Paul even had
her use the vibrator on herself while blowing him so she got off too.
And occasionally Paul would have her get on all fours facing the TV
screen and would spank her bottom while she watched. Anne actually
found herself looking forward to the spanking sessions since that turned
her on more than just watching.
Of course, Paul was careful to pick out the right kind of videos. He never
got any that had scenes of men and women in love with each other.
Instead, all the videos were ones where men used the women. And over
time the films got nastier and nastier until Paul was showing Anne
European films that couldn't be rented in the US.
Meanwhile, every day Anne wore her butt plug, removing it only to shit
and shower. And each week Paul gave Anne a slightly bigger plug to help
open up her ass. One day Paul gave Anne an enema bag and told her to
start using that daily, increasing the volume regularly and reporting the
size she could take.
And through all of this Anne tried to live a normal life away from Paul.
She went to school, worked at the video store, and spent time at home with
her family. However, Paul was always there somehow. Every morning and
night when she used her vibrator, his face filled her fantasy.
One Sunday he met her at church just before the service. The slipped into a
bathroom and Paul gave Anne an enema and then plugged it with her butt
plug. Anne spent the entire service next to her father, wanting to release
the enema and unable to during the service, and afterward when she had to
walk around with her parents. Finally she got away and released it.
And finally Paul gave her tapes to play on her walkman when she was
jogging. The tapes were a combination of the sound from porno movies,
and Anne's commenting about herself while cumming. And behind it all,
was Paul's soft voice telling her how she was his slut, and that she was his
to use however she pleased.
Anne would be jogging down the street, normal people all around her, and
she would be hearing people fucking or herself in the throes of passion.
She was hearing this so often while viewing everyday normal life that she
started to associate everything with sex. It was never off her mind.
And on the weekend they would go dancing. But it was always so tame
compared to the last time that Anne never objected to anything. Paul would
play with her tits while ordering from the waitress. Or he would spread
Anne's legs and life her skirt and play with her clit for people sitting
across from them.
Many times he had Anne scrunch down, spread her legs, and pull her
pussy lips apart to show others the view under the table. He started training
her to never sit on her skirt, but to always raise the back of it. For many of
her tight dresses this had the effect of pulling the skirt to her waist, clearly
showing her pussy. But Paul allowed no exceptions.
Anne came to accept that others would see her tits and pussy. Every time
she showed any modesty, Paul took a belt to her ass and beat it out of her.
And Anne much preferred showing her cunt to being whipped. So when
they went out, it just became a fact of life to Anne that others would see her
cunt. She was Paul's slut and that was that.
And when they slow danced, Paul would usually play with her pussy. Anne
loved that, out there in the middle of all those people being brought to a
quiet orgasm. And at least once per evening she would return the favor,
bringing Paul to orgasm, staining the front of her dress.
And as she continued to watch the porno films each afternoon, she started
to see women tied down and whipped lightly, the whippings became
heavier and heavier. Women were pierced. Women drank piss, Women
fucked dogs. But each time something new was introduced, it was a
gradual change.
And Anne had become so conditioned to climaxing constantly while
watching, that she kept climaxing to more and more depraved acts. And
they were turning her on. Anne loved seeing a woman treated in the most
vile manner.
Pretty soon there wasn't anything worse to get for Anne. So he had her
pick favorite parts to watch again and again. Anne found herself judging
the films and repeating the scenes where women were treated the worst.
She was selecting knowing what Paul wanted. But in the course of making
those selections, she was making her own preference be for the films where
the woman was treated the worse.
And this was Anne's "normal" life. To watch women tortured unmercifully
every afternoon and to get off on it. To jog around town in everyday places
listening to tapes of violent sex. To go out Saturday night and arrange her
dress so men could easily see her cunt and tits. Wearing an ass plug
constantly. Giving herself an enema daily. And using vibrators every night
and morning.
All this poured into the mind of an impressionable young 17 year old girl
who had never known love, had never been told there was another way,
and who had all the normal worries of a high school senior, homework,
parents, friends. The mind is a wonderful thing. Make almost anything
routine and the mind will adapt to handle it. Anne remained a well
adjusted teen girl, at least it appeared so.
Chapter 8 - Halloween
Both Paul and Anne had been very careful to keep Anne's "normal" life
separate from her life with Paul. Just a whisper of Anne's seeing an older
man, older being anyone out of High School, would bring way too much
scrutiny from Ann's father, and possibly the police. Paul did not want to
see that happen. And Anne, she would never be able to face anyone ever
again if the truth came out. So Anne lived two lives.
But with a Halloween dance at Anne's school, Paul was determined to go
with her. With a costume on, no one would know who he was, or his age.
Anne on the other hand felt depressed when Paul told her that he would go
with her. She did not understand why but inside her, school had been her
refuge from Paul and her family. School was the one place where she could
relax with her friends and just have the worries and problems of every
other 17 year old girl. School was where the real Anne lived.
But Paul didn't ask Anne if she wanted him to go. And Anne didn't offer
Paul her opinion - not on anything. So Anne was going to the dance with
Paul. She arrived Friday evening at Paul's house as instructed.
Paul then laid out her costume for her. It was a bridal gown. Anne was
uneasy as soon as she saw the gown. This wasn't right. Marriage was
something very special to her. Like most young girls, she knew that
someday she would find the right boy and they would get married. And
that day would forevermore be one of the most special days in her life.
Marriage was for love and caring and a lifetime commitment with that one
special boy. Anne's eyes started to mist over as she thought of someday
finding that boy and being happily married. And then, with a word from
Paul she was shaken out of her daydream.
"Get dressed my little whore wife."
NO, no he couldn't drag this dream down into the gutter with her. Not
this. It would mean that when she really got married, it would just be a
reminder of one more sex game Paul played with his little whore. He
couldn't do this to her. He couldn't destroy what would someday be the
most special day of her life. He just couldn't take that away from her.
"Oh no Paul, please not that dress. I can't dress as a bride, I just can't. Oh
god, please don't make me do it." And with that Anne threw herself at
Paul's feet sobbing and holding his feet and begging him to let her wear
something else.
Paul was totally taken aback by this. He had plans for later in the evening
that would make the dress appropriate. But he had never expected this kind
of reaction. Just the thought of wearing it was devastating Anne. He really
really needed to take this into consideration.
Paul crouched down and pulled Anne up so she was kneeling too, facing
up to him. He had never seen a face so full of anguish and despair. Anne
was shivering with fear. So much so that she would probably have fallen
over if he hadn't been holding her.
"Dear dear Anne" Paul said softly stroking her face. "Don't you love me.
Don't you love me more than anything?"
"Ye-yes Paul, I love you. Oh dear god I love you. But please do---"
Paul put a finger on her lips and shushed her. Then he went back to
stroking her face. "And I love you my little piece of fuck-meat. You're my
sweet little whore. You're my special little hot cunt."
And with each word Paul said Anne shook as though hit. Her poor little
mind didn't know how to take the loving words that also called her a slut.
The gentle hand stroking her face as Paul continued to tell her how he
loved to watch her suck his cock and spread his cum all over her face. Her
mind wanted to both hold Paul for saying he loved her and run for being
called a slut.
Paul continued to talk to Anne watching her get wound up tighter and
tighter. "Such a beautiful little girl when you lie back and masturbate while
watching porno videos. I love you so much when I see you dancing with
other men jacking their cocks off onto the front of your dress. Such a vision
of loveliness when you spread your legs under the table and pull your pussy
lips apart to show other men your cunt. I dream of you every night,
thinking of you at home, using your vibrator on your clit, while your
parents are sleeping in the room next to yours."
And Anne got more and more confused. Paul was talking in the gentle
voice of a kind man who loved her. And he was telling her that. But with
each comment about the acts he made her perform, she wanted to scream
and run away. God, her shaking was getting so bad she had to put both
arms around Paul's neck to not fall over.
Yes, she was a slut. But Paul loved her that way. It was ok that she was a
slut, no - no it wasn't. She wasn't really a slut. She was a good girl. Yes,
she really was - wasn't she. But no, a good girl wouldn't do all those
things. She was a slut and Paul loved her anyways. Even with everything
she had done, he still loved her. But no, no, she---
And as Paul say her eyes go totally vacant and her shaking become even
more pronounced, he reached down to her clit and started rubbing while
whispering to her "whore, cunt, slut, fuck-meat, cum for me you little slut -
you know that's what you want. Cum all over my fingers and show me
what a whore you are."
No, he couldn't be doing this to her. What kind of slut did he think she
was trying to get her to cum now. She wasn't a -- oh my god, "NO NO NO,
OH GOD NO PLEASE GOD NO" Anne shouted as she started to cum.
She didn't know it, but her mind was so overwhelmed, it needed anything
to release all the tension it was under - anything. And so it released
through the cum. And released and released and released. Paul stopped
rubbing her clit and still, Anne climaxed for about 5 minutes. It was the
strongest cum she had ever had.
And the entire time, Paul held her close and whispered lovingly in her ear
"that's it, cum my little cunt. I love you my little slut. Just let it go my
little
whore. Show me how you need to cum and cum and cum my sweet sweet
piece of trash."
And the words kept pounding into Anne's mind as the cum rolled on and
on and on. And to not get totally lost in the anarchy her mind was in, she
clung to the one rock that was available. She held on to Paul. And she
fastened her mind on to the fact that he loved her. Paul loved her and
would save her. It was all ok...
Finally the orgasm stopped and Anne slumped in Paul's arms. Paul stroked
her head for a minute and then stood her up. Anne was on automatic pilot.
She just stood there as Paul dressed her. First he put a white corset on her.
It went from her waist to the bottom of her breasts.
Paul then tightened and tightened it. Because Anne was so zoned out, her
body didn't fight the tightening at all and Paul was able to reduce her waist
by 7", more than ever before. She now was almost a charactature of the
perfect feminine waist.
After that came white lace stockings and gloves. The gloves went almost to
her shoulders. And both the gloves and stockings had a special feature.
Sewn in at the wrist and ankle were very unobtrusive restraints. Even
looking close it merely looked like heavy lace with a decorative shoestring.
But once Paul tied up the shoestring Anne could not remove them and the
loops in the shoestring could be used to tie her down.
And then came the dress (no underwear for Ann on her wedding night). It
didn't have a train because that wouldn't work at the party. What it did
have was almost 100 buttons that buttoned from the throat (where the
collar could also be used as a restraint) to the hem at the floor.
From the hips down it billowed out with multiple petticoats underneath.
But from the waist up it was skin tight, giving Anne that virginal look all
wedding dresses achieve, while still fully displaying and incredibly sexy
body.
Paul buttoned up most of the buttons, leaving Anne's breasts exposed for
the moment. And then he put Anne's wedding hat on her, complete with
veil. There she stood, a vision of loveliness, the radiant bride, waiting for
her groom.
Now Paul couldn't let anyone see him. One look at his face would let
people know he was in his mid 20s. So he had rented a gorilla suit. And
over the gorilla suit he wore a tuxedo. So Anne had her groom - a gorilla.
After Paul dressed he walked over to Anne and pushed her to her knees. He
then pulled out his cock (a popular feature in the gorilla costume was a
removable crotch piece), lifted Anne's veil, and pushed his cock into
Anne's mouth.
Anne started sucking automatically. And with that she woke out of her
daze. Here she was in her wedding dress, with a beast as a groom, sucking
his cock. That was only right for a slut like her. She did not deserve a
normal wedding with a nice young boy. No, for her wedding she belonged
on her knees, blowing the man she loved. A man who was a beast, which a
dirty piece of scum like her was lucky to have.
And tears started rolling down Anne's cheeks as the dream within her, that
special dream in every young girl, about that special wedding that would
some day happen, as that dream was replaced by the reality of what would
be. That some day, the little whore would drop to her knees, blow her
groom, so he might be willing to marry a sleazy tramp.
Paul looked down and saw the tears. God how he loved to watch her cry.
He loved that more than anything else he thought. If he could have her
constantly in tears, constantly crying for parts of her soul she was loosing,
then, well life would be just about perfect.
Paul reached down and pushed Anne's head away from his prick. He then
pulled her veil down and pushed his cock, with the veil around it, into
Anne's mouth. "That's it my blushing virginal bride. Suck my cock
through your veil. Whenever you wear a veil again you can think of
sucking my cock through it. Won't you love your wedding when you walk
down the aisle and all you can think of is my cock coming through your
veil, into your mouth?"
And with his words Anne's tears became even more pronounced, gushing
down her cheeks to land in her lap. Yes she was just a cock-sucking whore.
And that's all she would be when she got married. Oh god Paul, don't ever
leave me she thought. No other man would be willing to marry someone as
slutty as her. Oh please don't ever leave me.
And then Paul started to cum. He pulled his cock out of her mouth and
sprayed his cum all over her still exposed breasts. He then wiped his cock
off on her chest and put it away. "Button up your dress whore, you don't
want your friends to know what a dirty slut you are."
Anne looked down through her tears. There was cum all over her chest.
She sobbed even harder as she buttoned the dress up, mashing the cum
between her wedding dress and her tits. Anne, the little girl would still
have her dream of someday having that special wedding. But that dream
would always include having fresh cum on her tits while walking down the
aisle. Another little piece of Anne had died.
Anne and Pail had a fun, and relatively normal time at the party. There
wasn't much Paul could do there if he wanted. So instead, he acted as
though there were bride and groom, about to get married.
And Anne, Anne was in heaven. Paul, who she loved so very much, was
there by her side and being just wonderful. Anne was actually, for the first
time in her life, seeing how a normal relationship worked. Anne didn't
know it was normal. She found it very strange. But she also found it
wonderful.
And the euphoria swept her up into the play-acting. Yes they were bride
and groom, about to get married. And it was Halloween, and kids were
drinking in the corners, so what was one pair acting as though it was their
wedding. Totally normal by any standards.
Yes thought Anne, this is wonderful. I'm in love with a wonderful man
that I'm going to marry. And he loves me and everything will be so
wonderful. Not even the dried cum on the inside of her wedding dress
could spoil it.
On the drive back from the party to Paul's house Anne laid back and
floated on a cloud. This had been the most wonderful night of her life. Yes,
everything was wonderful.
When they got to the house Paul insisted on carrying Anne in through the
doorway. He then looked down on the serenely happy face and smiled. She
was so completely happy right now, he couldn't imagine a better setup.
"Well my blushing bride, its our wedding night. And you know what that
means don't you?" Paul asked as he headed toward his bedroom.
It took a couple of seconds to sink in through the euphoria and then Anne
started to realize, oh god no - he can't be planning to have sex with me. oh
god no.
Paul say the horror creep onto Anne's face and smiled again. Yes, as he
had thought, from the heights of estacy to the depths of despair. This was
going to be one hell of a ride for her tonight. He had guessed as much,
Anne hadn't really believed that they would ever have sex.
Yes, Paul had dragged Anne through a lot. But he hadn't had to override
any of her central beliefs. He made her masturbate - but that certainly
didn't go against any basic instincts. And she watched porno films that
completely degraded women. But the truth was she had come to get turned
on by those and Paul was a good excuse for watching them.
Even the blow-jobs weren't that bad. Around school they were discussed as
the last-ditch safety valve. If a boyfriend was too insistent. If they both got
too hot and heavy, well a blow-job was ok then. It was a totally different
area of the body. It wasn't sex.
But sex. No she couldn't have sex. It was so inconceivable to her that they
would have sex that she had never really seriously considered it. Sex was
for that one special boy when she got married. And there was not just 17
years of her parents message, there was millions of years of evolution
behind this. No sex except for that one special boy.
And when that special boy would have come along, it would have taken
months to build up to the point where they had sex. She had no experience
of slowly blossoming love that leads to that beautiful act of making love.
Her mind had not learned how to tie the two together and use making love
to build on the love between two people.
Suddenly Anne's body started struggling. Paul almost dropped her at first,
but then grabbed tighter and stepped into the bedroom.
"NO NO NO NO NO. I WON'T DO THIS. YOU CAN'T DO THIS. LET
ME GO RIGHT NOW. I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE PICTURES, I
DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING, LET ME GO, LET ME GO." Anne
started shouting.
Paul threw her down on the bed, threw himself on top of her, and went to
work fastening first her arms, and then her legs to the straps he had
waiting. "You're not going anywhere my little slut bride. Its our wedding
night and I'm going to fuck your cherry. And it was so sweet that a little
whore like you kept her cherry for our wedding night."
"OH GOD NO, YOU CAN'T DO THIS. PLEASE LET ME GO. SEND
MY FATHER THE PICTURES, I DON'T CARE JUST LET ME GO
RIGHT NOW. YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, I'M NOT A WHORE, I'M
NOT, I'M NOT." Anne was screaming now and struggling as hard as she
could against the straps tying her down.
Paul watched her frantically trying to get away while unbuttoning her skirt
from the hem to the waist. He had expected resistance, but not this much.
This wasn't a timid creature that had to be pushed into place. This was the
real Anne fighting to save herself. This was a creature that would not
relent.
Paul suddenly realized that he could easily loose her tonight. She had to
return home or the police would be called. And if he didn't break this inner
Anne who had surfaced, she would never return. Oh yes, he could ruin her
life. But he would still have lost Anne. And he didn't want that to happen.
He loved this wild creature he had tamed. He loved her more than
anything. And to keep that love, he needed to break her.
"LET ME GO, LET ME GO, YOU CAN'T RAPE ME YOU CAN'T. I'LL
TELL THE POLICE, I'LL HAVE YOU ARRESTED. LET ME GO LET
ME GO YOU SON OF A BITCH."
With that Paul put his cock at the entrance of Anne's pussy and pressed it
in. "I'm raping you you little whore. How does it feel to have your little slut
pussy raped you fucking cunt?"
"NO NO NO, DEAR GOD NO. TAKE IT OUT, OH PLEASE TAKE IT
OUT. DON'T RAPE ME, DEAR GOD DON'T RAPE ME."
"Feel my cock rape your wet hole. Tell me no, tell me no all you want and
I'll keep fucking your slit. You're a whore and whore's need to be fucked.
Slut, cunt hole whore fuck you fuck you fuck you."
And as Anne fought and screamed, her body started to respond. And Paul
kept talking to her, telling her what he thought of her as he fucked her.
And Anne's body responded more and more, and yet she was totally
oblivious to that response.
Until it mid-protest she came. "OH GOD NO, NO THIS CAN'T BE
HAPPENING, NO NO - OOOHHH GOOOODDD" and as Paul continued
to pump and Anne continued to climax her cries turned to ones of joy "OH
YES, YES, OH DEAR GOD YES."
"Its not rape if you cum slut. You can call it rape but if you're loving it its
not rape. Look at you, I raped you and you're such a dirty little whore
you're cumming. What a disgusting little slut. You just love having a cock
up your pussy don't you whore?"
Anne looked at Paul in shock. No, no that wasn't true. It was rape, He was
raping her. She looked up at him and panted between climaxes, "no, you're
raping me you-- ooohh shit, oohh god, oohh -- yo-you're raping meeee
ooohhh goooddd."
And they argued for the next 3 minutes. God she has a strong will thought
Paul. And all during that time he kept pumping his cock into Anne and she
kept cuming and cuming, arguing and fighting between climaxes.
And finally Paul said "ok slut, its rape, tell me to stop, tell me to stop
fucking you - TELL ME NOW TO STOP YOU FUCKING WHORE." And
then Paul fucked has hard and fast as he could.
And Anne looked up, started to say something, and came, and came, and
came, and then she started to say stop, but she couldn't she just couldn't
the cums were too powerful. And then she broke. She couldn't say stop.
She had to keep cuming. "OH YES, OH YES, FUCK ME FUCK ME, OH
GOD YES OOOOOHHHHH GOOOODDDD YYYEEEEEESSS
FUUUCCCKK MMEEEE."
And inside Anne, a very important part of what made Anne crumpled up
and blew away in the winds generated by her voice screaming at Paul to
fuck her. And as it left, Anne tried to recapture it, but another cum hit, and
she asked Paul to fuck her again.
And Anne realized what she had lost. She had lost her moral limits. If this
wall could be torn down, than any wall could be torn down. She had lost
her willpower. Oh god, she had lost everything. And with that, giant sobs
took over Anne's body and rivers of tears flowed down her cheeks.
And Paul continued to pump and Anne continued to have giant climax
after giant climax, and sobbing and crying at the same time. And Paul
looked down and knew he had never seen her as beautiful as she was now.
And this beautiful broken creature was his.
The next 5 days Anne came over she always put up a fight at first. But
each time Paul would tie her down and fuck her till she begged for more.
And then she didn't fight anymore. And then Paul made Anne beg to be
fucked.
And Anne came to love being fucked by Paul. But each time, in the back of
her mind, a little voice would tell her that it was wrong, very wrong. And
that she was a slut for enjoying it and asking for it. And usually, when she
came, Anne would cry from the shame. And Paul was very happy.
Chapter 9 - An New Body
Life was good. Anne was getting more and more wrapped up in the porno
movies she watched. She loved being fucked from behind by Paul while
watching a woman being tortured on the screen. She was dressing and
acting even more slutty when they went out, flashing her pussy at anyone
who looked, without Paul even having to tell her to.
Anne always sat with her legs spread and never sat on the back of her
dress. Her tight dresses spent more time up around her waist than pulled
down over her ass and cunt. Paul had fucked her several times seated at the
table, and even once on the dance floor.
Then one day he realized what was bothering him. He owned Anne's mind
but she still owned her body. Not control of her body but the body itself. He
had taken her will and bent and destroyed it until she had no will except
for what he allowed.
But her body still looked like the body of the girl who used to be her own
person. And while she had a nice body, a killer body in fact, her tits were
only B and watching the films, Paul had grown accustomed to the over-
inflated breasts that most of the new porn stars had.
Just the thought of DD breasts glued to Anne's petite little frame got Paul
so hot that he grabbed Anne's head and pumped a load down her throat in
10 seconds.
And the face. It was beautiful but it had to change. Paul didn't want
anything different in particular, he just wanted to change Anne. Then she
would be completely a creature of his own making, body and soul.
And so Paul dipped a little further into his savings. And he found a plastic
surgeon who was willing to work on Anne. The doctor merely thought that
Anne was an eager participant and just wanted to hide the operation from
her parents. But for the money Paul was paying, he didn't really care to
press too hard about some of the requests. Because after all, money was
money.
But it did have to be kept hidden from Anne's parents. This required two
steps. The first was that Anne's breasts had to "naturally" grow over the
next several months. So Paul had Anne start wearing a padded bra.
Paul didn't tell Anne why. And Anne didn't argue with Paul anymore.
What was a padded bra compared to jerking off 20 strange men in the
parking lot outside a club, shooting their semen all over her face. If Paul
wanted her tits to look bigger, then that's what Anne would do.
"You're such a little slut my dear" Paul said stroking her face and
explaining it to her. "And sluts have big slut tits. You need to make
everyone think you have big tits so they know you're a slut. And as your
chest gets bigger and bigger everyone will start to think of you as a whore.
They may not say it but they'll know it."
And Anne looked up at Paul and knew he was right. Yes she was a whore
and a slut. And she needed to have whore tits so everyone knew what a
dirty little slut she was. So she wore the padded bras everywhere, even
under her nightgown in bed at night. Because if her parents found out she
was wearing a padded bra, that she wanted to have tits that big, there
would be no end of hell to pay.
And every week, when Paul would give her a slightly larger bra, she would
get more and more stares at her chest. Pretty soon she noticed that the boys
at school never looked at her face anymore. They would stare at her chest -
their gaze riveted on her swelling mounds. She even caught her father
looking at her at times in a totally different way.
Yes, yes, this was only right. Everyone was now seeing the true Anne.
Anne the whore. Anne the big-titted whore. And every once in a while
Anne would see someone who used to be a friend, some who liked her for
her, staring at her growing udders and fantasizing about them, and
something would catch in her throat. Because she wasn't the kind of girl
who had friends - no she was a whore who was there for boys to fuck.
And then one Saturday the doctor was ready and Paul sat Anne down and
explained to her what was going to happen. "You've been pretending that
you're a big titted cow for 2 months now. But you don't really have whore
tits. All you really have is little girl breasts. You're just a little baby."
Anne didn't know what to say to Paul. He was the one who wanted her to
wear the bra's. She couldn't help how her body looked. What did he want
her to do. Oh god, please don't let him decide that she wasn't good
enough. Why did she have to have this little girl body. It wasn't fair. And
she started to cry despairing that her body wasn't good enough.
Paul smiled. "Its ok my precious little slut. Its ok. We're going to fix it.
We'll fix you're little girl body and turn it into the body of a whore. Into a
body to match the perverted little slut that lives inside there. You have an
appointment in 2 hours for a plastic surgeon to give you a boob job."
Anne looked up in shock. What, surgery? A boob job? She looked down at
her body. That was her. That was Anne. OH MY GOD, a boob job meant
this would never end. Any boy she met, ever, would know she was a whore.
They would all treat her that way forever. There would never be any
escape.
Anne suddenly realized, even with all the walls that had been knocked
down, with all the parts of her that had been destroyed, her mind had still
hidden away in some corner, the hope that someday this would all end.
And when it ended, she would meet a normal boy, and they would lead a
normal life.
But the stares her fake chest had caused over the past month. EVEN
FROM HER OWN FATHER. No, no boy would settle down to a normal
life with a big titted whore. No, all she could be then was a slut - forever.
Paul couldn't do that, not forever, no not that.
"Please Paul no, please don't make me do this. I'm still just a kid. I'm only
17. I don't want to be a whore forever. This is forever Paul, please dear
god, I can't do this. Let me wear the bras. I'll keep wearing the bras. I'll
fuck you - come on Paul, don't you want to fuck my pussy right now."
Paul looked down at Anne and took her face in his hands. "You have to do
it Anne, you're a whore. You're a complete slut and slut's need big slut
udders, not these little girl breasts you have now. I love you Anne, I love
my big titted cow."
But she was still a little girl. Anne wanted to crawl back into her mothers
arms and have her mother make everything all right. Your mommy used to
do that when she was littler. Her mommy would never hold a big titted cow
in her arms. Oh dear god, she didn't want to change. This body was her,
this was Anne, a little scared 17 year old child.
Paul looked down and saw the confused little girl looking up at him and
whimpering. So beautiful and sexy and adorable. And how much nicer she
would look with big whore udders sticking out of that little chest.
"Ok my little slut, ok we won't do it." Paul said watching Anne's face light
up. "Leave."
Anne looked up confused. Leave? They hadn't done anything yet today.
Paul hadn't fucked her or had her suck him off. She hadn't watched her
videos yet. She was soo looking forward to watching one where one woman
had her pussy sewed up and another was hung by her tits. Her big whore
tits Anne recalled with a jerk.
And tonight. They were going out tonight. Paul would make her show men
her pussy. She would have to dance with men and let them feel her up and
jack them off. Oh god, Paul would probably make her jerk them off in the
parking lot. Jerk them off all over face and hair.
And as Anne catalogued what she had expected to do that day, all the
disgusting things she told herself, even then, that she detested, she got
aroused. Aroused over all the times she would cum that day. And how
intense it would be.
She suddenly heard Paul again - "Get out." What, get out? What was
wrong. didn't he want her? Didn't he want to spend the day together?
"Get out, leave. Leave right now little girl and don't come back. I don't
have time for a little girl like you. Get out of here" Paul said and with that
he dropped his hands from her face, turned and walked away.
oh no, OH GOD NO. Paul was throwing her out. They were breaking up.
No, NO NO NO. OH GOD NOOOO. She loved Paul. She loved him more
than anything. She couldn't lose him. She couldn't. She just couldn't.
Anne ran after Paul and threw herself at his feet wrapping her arms around
his ankles and sobbing her heart out. "Oh please god no Paul. I love you. I
love you. Please don't leave me. please please."
Paul smiled. The little whore did love him. Paul crouched down and pulled
Anne's tear streaked face up to him. "I don't have any use for a little girl.
Come back when you grow up little baby. I need a woman who is a grown
up big-titted cow. I don't have any use for a little girl slut like you. I want
a woman whose body shouts out that the only thing she could ever possibly
be is a slut."
Anne looked up at Paul. Yes, yes she could be a big titted cow for him. She
could change. Paul had even set up the operation for her. Paul loved her so
much that he was willing to help her change instead of just getting rid of
her. Oh god, Paul loved her and tried to help her and she had blown it.
How could she have done this. Yes, Paul needed a slut with big tits. She
needed to have the kind of chest a whore should have. She was Paul's
special whore. She needed to give him the kind of tits a whore should have.
Oh god, how could she have been so selfish after all Paul had done for her.
"Ok, ok, I'll do it. I'll do it Paul" Anne sobbed up to Paul.
"Its more than just your tits slut. He'll change your face, he'll reduce your
waist, and he'll change the tendons in your feet so your feet are only
comfortable in heels. This is a complete make-over my little love fuck. You
go in a little 17 year old baby girl. You come out a grown up whore. Do
you want that? Do you slut?"
Oh god shuddered Anne. Oh god, she didn't want to do this. But she loved
Paul. She needed to keep him. And Paul needed her to do this. This was
important, no necessary to Paul. How could she tell him no for something
so important. Yes, yes she would do this for him.
"Yes Paul, whatever you decide. I love you, I love you so very much. Yes
my love."
"There's one last thing my love" Paul said tenderly. "There's only one way
to get this past your parents."
Oh my god, her parents. The bra would have them ready for new real
boobs. But not changes to her face. What could she tell them.
"I have to hit you in the face" Paul said, actually looking sad. "That way
the hospital records that you were assaulted, the doctor fixes up your face,
but in the process it changes.
Anne looked at Paul in fear. Hit her, he had to hit her. "No Paul, please no.
Don't hit me, please don't hit me. I'll work it out with my parents. I will.
I'll make it ok, I promise. Please don't hit me" Anne wailed.
"I love you Anne. I don't want to hurt you. But I have to. You can't make
it right with your parents otherwise. I love you my darling darling Anne.
I'm sorry but I have to hit you and break your nose."
Anne looked up at Paul and realized he really didn't want to hit her. He
did love her. Oh god, he loved her so much. He didn't want to hit her and
was going to do it anyways because he loved her so much. Yes, yes, if he
had to do it she didn't want to cause him more pain by fighting it.
"Ok Paul, hit me. Break my nose. Do it, hit me" Anne said and looked up
at Paul.
Paul cocked his fist back, prepared to swing, and looking at Anne suddenly
realized, he couldn't do it. He couldn't hit this beautiful creature. He loved
her too much. He loved the little slut. And he lowered his arm.
Anne was so tensed up for the punch it took her a couple of seconds to
realize what was happening. He wasn't hitting her. Why not? What was
wrong. Oh god, did she do something wrong.
"I-I-I ca-can't do it" Paul said. "I can't hit you dear Anne."
Relief swept through Anne's body. And then she realized, he loved her so
much. Oh god, he loved, her he loved her, he loved her. But - but he
needed a big titted whore. How would she get in to the hospital. Oh god,
what if left her now.
Paul looked over at Anne. "You need to help me Anne. Help me hit you."
Anne looked confused. She had to help him. She couldn't do that. It was
all she could do to let him hit her. But wait, she couldn't lose him. Not
after he said he loved her. She had to keep Paul, she had to.
"Its ok, go ahead and hit me" she said. "Its ok, I want you to hit me Paul. I
love you and I want you to hit me. Please hit me, please hit me dear Paul
my love" Anne begged.
Paul looked down at her and saw this yearning face that loved him. He
couldn't do it. He couldn't hit that. "PISS ME OFF YOU CUNT."
"Wha-what?"
"Piss me off. Get me mad at you. Make me want to hit you you dumb slut."
"You-you-you're mean, you're bad. You-you, oh you're a shit. You're a
lousy fuck. I love sucking all the other men off but not you. I dance with
other men because their cocks feel so much nicer. My vibrator feels so
much better than your cock."
And it was starting to work. Paul was starting to get pissed at this little
tramp. How dare she say things like this to him. How dare she.
And Anne could see he was starting to get worked up. She continued to
piss Paul off every way she could think of as he got angrier and angrier.
And then she could see it in his eyes. He was ready. Ready to hit. And then
she realized what was holding him back. Even though he wanted to hit her
now, his love was stopping him. His love would stop him, no matter how
mad she got him.
And then she knew what to do. "I don't love you. I don't. How could I love
someone who can't even hit me. I hate you. I hate you Paul." And as she
saw Paul swing his fist toward her face she shouted "yes hit me, hit m--
OOOOWWWWW OOOOHHH GGGOOOOOODDDDD, IT HURTS IT
HURTS. OH GOD PAUL IT HURTS SO MUCH. OH GOD MAKE IT
STOP PAUL."
And Paul collapsed to his knees next to Anne and gathered her in his arms.
"I love you Anne. I love you, I love you I love you. I'm so so sorry Anne."
"Its ok Paul. I wanted you to do it. Oh god Paul, it hurts so much. Please
get me to the hospital. Please hurry."
Paul rushed Anne to the hospital. He reported that he had seen some bum
punch her so he ran over punched the bum and rushed her to the hospital.
At the hospital they were very fortunate, Dr. Smith, an excellent plastic
surgeon had just had a patient "cancel" and had his team standing by. It all
worked just as Paul and Dr. Smith had planned.
Paul stayed in the surgery waiting room with Anne's family. He was the
concerned bystander who had helped a stranger out. And with that act, was
welcomed into Anne's family as a hero. Someone who had rescued their
baby from some awful stranger. They all talked for hours as Anne was in
surgery.
Meanwhile, Dr. Smith reduced Anne's nose to a much smaller size. The
cheeks he moved up. Paul hadn't cared how her face changed as long as it
was significant. For extra effect, Dr. Smith removed most of Anne's
eyebrows leaving two thin lines.
Next came Anne's waist. The good doctor went in and rearranged Anne's
organs a little. The idea was to bring her waist in by pushing some a little
toward the ribcage and others into the pelvis. It actually didn't take much
to make more room. And then he excised virtually all the fat in there, cut
out two strips of skin, and when sewn back up, Anne had a waist that was
permanently 4" narrower. Even in a swimsuit, with no corset, Anne would
have an extreme hourglass figure.
The doctor then proceeded on the riskiest part of the operation. He had
talked to Paul about this and Paul though it was worth trying. Instead of
using silicone, the Doctor was going to put the fat from Anne's stomach
into her breasts. Normally this wouldn't work. But at 17 Anne's body was
still growing. And her breasts were definitely still growing. And the
growing body had a decent chance of accepting fat from another part of her
own body.
Finally, after finishing Anne's new natural breasts, the doctor moved to her
ankles. He shortened her Achilles tendon and loosened the tendons on the
front of her ankle. Anne's feet would now slip into a 5" heel when relaxed.
And it would be painful and difficult for her to hold her feet flat.
Finally the doctor injected Anne's breasts with a growth hormone to
increase the chances of her body growing and accepting the transplanted
fat. Even in the surgery, with surgical clothes draping her body, the doctor
could see, Anne now had a body designed for one thing - sex.
He then went out to report to the worried parents that their daughter was
ok. And to warn them that he had had to perform major reconstructive
surgery on her face. She would still be beautiful, but her face would be a
little different. Anne's parents were so relieved that they didn't care. Their
little baby was going to be ok.
And the nice young man who rescued their baby, they invited him in to the
recovery room to to see her. When Paul started to cry seeing how lovely she
looked Anne's parents felt even more special toward him. How very nice
that stranger cared so much. They would have to invite him over for
dinner.
Anne spent 3 days recovering in the hospital. No one thought anything of
the nice young man who had rescued her coming in regularly to see her - it
was an all too common situation. And no one noticed that when he was
alone with her, he would finger fuck Anne to the brink of orgasm.
And Anne never resisted when Dr. Smith on his rounds would let his
hands stray from her tits to her pussy. She was a whore and whore's didn't
complain when men felt their pussies.
And Anne saw her breasts. Her giant cow udders. They looked obscene on
her small petite body. The bra had never bothered Anne because she knew
it wasn't real. It wasn't a part of her. But these were a part of her. And it
did bother her to see them. Anyone who looked at her could only think of
one thing, fucking her. And after making herself cum each night, she
would fall asleep crying over what she had become.
Then the day came to get up. Paul helped her get up and had thoughtfully
provided her with slippers that had a heel so she could actually stand up. In
her weakened state she would not be able to walk flat-footed. Anne walked
over to the mirror and a stranger looked back at her.
Her face, it wasn't her face anymore. It wasn't that much different but it
wasn't her. Not the face she had slowly seen grow up in the mirror the last
17 years. And she suddenly realized, this was Paul's face. This was the
face Paul had selected for her. And he owned her face the same way he
owned her.
And her waist. God how did it get so small. Her tits looked even more
oversize on top of her small waist. That wasn't a woman's body in the
mirror, that was every man's wet dream. Suddenly Anne had to go back to
the bed. She laid down and cried and cried for hours as she realized, Anne
was gone. She didn't know who that was in the mirror but little Anne, a
little 17 year old girl was gone. The body in the mirror belonged to the
grown up big titted whore Paul wanted. And Anne was gone. And the little
girl Anne trapped inside the cow with the big udders cried and cried
because she was gone forever.
And Paul sat by her side in the hospital room and stroked her hair and told
her how beautiful her new whore body was and how he loved his little fuck
slut. And as he saw her cry over the little Anne that was forever gone, he
loved her more and more.
And Anne realized that she truly was nothing more than a big-titted whore,
in body as well as in spirit now. That she did deserve to have this body.
Because all she was was a fuck toy. All she wanted to be was Paul's slut
cunt. And that she now had her natural body.
And as she spent the next couple of weeks mostly recuperating in bed, she
played with herself time and time again imagining all the things Paul
would now have her do with her new slut body. And she came time and
time again to those fantasies, never understanding why she cried after each
cum.