Gracie Goode was stirred out of a comfy sleep by the feeling of her covers being peeled off her body. The petite blonde opened her eyes to see her stepbrother, Chase, standing over her, smirking. His lustful eyes were wandering up and down her creamy skin. It made her flesh crawl in a no-longer-so-unpleasant way. She was half-naked, wearing only panties and a cropped tank top. "Okay," she yawned, stretching, her lithe limbs extending, back arching, her flat tummy going taut. "I'm awake. Go away." He didn't go but violated his little sister's body with his perverted eyes and impish, full-bearded smile.
Chase had read several pages of Gracie's diary about a month before and since then, he rather shamelessly flirted with her, letting her know how pleased he'd be to have sex with her in no uncertain terms. "We're not really blood," he'd say, beaming his grimy, greasy grin. She hated it.
At first.
Gracie had no doubt her brother had read the more sensual notes she'd written. As a sexually repressed and ever-horny teenager, her writings had become a means of expressing her most lewd desires. The diary had virtually become a log of detailed sexual fantasies. She only hoped that her stepbrother never read the things she'd written about his father. That would be damning and wildly embarrassing, especially if he told their dad. She would just die if he found out his little girl had such naughty sexual thoughts about him. It was bad enough that her twenty-six-year-old jerk of a brother knew her horny side. When he started his flirting, sexual innuendo, and sneaky groping, Gracie was repulsed. But then, something changed.
Though she played innocent, the eighteen-year-old girl started to relish the attention her brother gave her. When she'd first discovered that Chase read her diary, his crude jokes and encroaching fingers made her cringe. His eyes on her body felt mocking, vile, and dangerous - so much so that Gracie started sleeping in joggers and hoodies so he wouldn't see her half-naked on the mornings he woke her up for school. But after a few short weeks, she'd gone back to her normal pajamas, a soft pair of panties and a tiny top. Even as she stretched her young body under the large man's hungry gaze she felt flushed. Secretly teasing her brother with her sweet body while playing the innocent, unassuming young lady made the most wicked parts of her smile.
"Damn, you look hot when you stretch like that," Chase said.
"Don't start this again, Chase," Gracie said. "If you keep this up I'm gonna tell Dad how much of a creeper you are."
He stepped closer, hovered over his half-naked little sister, and whispered, "I don't think you wanna tell. I think you want this to be our little secret." He leaned down slowly and made an attempt to kiss her neck.
Gracie recoiled. "Eww. You're my brother!" She did a good job of sounding repulsed but kept her voice low enough not to escape her bedroom. "Get out of here so I can change."
Chase stood up straight again with his handsome but hellish grin. "Okay," he said. "One day, Gracie. One day... I promise you I'm gonna fuck you and you're gonna love it."
Gracie grimaced and snorted at her brother as he left the room and closed the door behind himself but his words turned her insides to hot butter. She nipped her lip and wondered, why don't I just give in and let him do what he wants? Why do I play this game? The answer was simple: chastity and sexual repression were her natural inclinations. Against a myriad of sensual desires, her modesty always won out. It was frustrating at times.
Gracie showered and got dressed in her school uniform - navy pleated skirt, blue blouse, white thigh-high stockings and low-heeled Mary Janes. Next, she ate a small breakfast prepared by Dom, her handsome stepfather, who watched her eat with a wry smile. She always thought her stepdaddy was handsome, and had only grown more so since her mother met him. He was the only father she'd ever known and he had raised her up from a girl of eight. Though Gracie truly loved Dom as a father figure, she couldn't dam the raw, raunchy fantasies her mind cooked up. She built them a little home in her diary instead. His strong, muscular body, his salt and pepper beard, his serious, demanding demeanor - it was enough to make Gracie melt at times.
"Remember baby," he said, leaving his seat and towering over her in the large kitchen. "I'm leaving for the weekend so you'll have the house to yourself for a few days."
Gracie rolled her eyes. "Okay, Daddy. I remember. You only told me like eighteen times already."
"Don't take that tone with me," he replied, smiling. He'd facetiously say things like that, like an old-school, traditional father. It'd become part of the banter between father and daughter.
"Yes, father," Gracie sang obediently. Once, almost two years ago, during one such bout of banter, she actually replied, 'Yes, Daddy,' in a somewhat sultry, somewhat girlish tone. It had made Dom pause, stare, and sweat, and made Gracie go warm all over. Since then she hasn't said it again. She wanted to though. "I won't be alone though. Chase, unfortunately, is gonna be her." She wanted to tell her daddy how his son had been acting lately but was afraid she'd have to tell the origin of his lust and divulge the secrets in her diary.
"Chase is leaving for the weekend too," Dom said. "He'll be taking a road trip across the country to go to a college friend's wedding. He didn't tell you?" Gracie shook her head and shrugged.
The front door opened and closed, and then a while later another man walked into the kitchen. "Hey, Mr. Roper!" Gracie's eyes lit up and she accidentally let a bit of her excitement show. She blushed but didn't falter. "What are you doing here?"
"He's gonna drop you at school today, honey," Dom said. "I have a couple errands to run."
"Didn't mean to intrude," Mr. Roper said. "Just came in to let you know I'm waiting in the car." And as quick as he'd come, he left again.
When it was time to leave, Gracie stood on her toes at the door to hug her father. His hugs were the best. He scooped her up into her strong arms, wrapping them low on her hips and lifting her an inch off her feet with an almost suffocating squeeze. She held onto his shoulders, smiling like Daddy's little girl. "Mmm-mmm," he groaned gruffly before setting her on her feet. As he was wont to do whenever the two were alone, he planted two quick kisses on her soft, pink lips. She watched him lick his lips with genuine enjoyment. "Bubblegum?" he asked, guessing the flavor of his daughter's lip gloss.
"Strawberry mint," Gracie giggled.
"Really?" Dom asked with puzzlement on his face. "Let me..." he kissed her once more, as he would any time he'd guess wrong. It was like a ritual. And it was innocent as can be. Innocent unlike the time just before her seventeenth birthday when he'd slipped his hot tongue into her mouth, making her melt and tingle and buzz until fear overruled everything within her and she pushed him away and ran. It had taken three months for their relationship to return to normal, Dom apologizing over a thousand times. In the end, after talking it through again and again, assuring her it was a mistake, he returned to the touchy-feely daddy he'd always been for her. She was grateful she could still feel confident calling him Daddy, but the surprise kiss sparked something in her that would never die. Something that would fill pages of her diary with pantie-wetting fantasies.
Gracie got in Mr. Roper's car and they headed to the high school where she attended and he worked. He was a trusted family friend whom Gracie had known just as long as she'd known her stepfather and stepbrother. He was a good man and a great tutor, taking on the task of helping Gracie with homework just about every day after school since she was eight. Though she was half his age, the two were close friends. Mr. Roper was the other very important man in her life, along with her father and brother. And like with her father and brother, things had gotten a bit inappropriate between her.
Mr. Roper had grown flirtatious with her within the last year or so. After school study sessions were held at his place. Lights were low. Flirty compliments were given to the teen girl - things about her shapely legs and cute smile. At the dining room table, they'd sit, Mr. Roper's knees spread beside Gracie's, his hand constantly on her knee, parked just underneath the hemline of her skirt. He'd find reasons to touch her dainty arm, her delicate neck, or her hip. He'd stand over her, breathing next to her ear as she analyzed text and worked on math problems.
When she was sixteen, he'd given her a glass of white wine to taste. Three servings later, Gracie was sitting side saddle in Mr. Roper's lap, cardigan on the floor, blouse open to her navel as she worked on her Algebra. His hands were all over her body. She was full of nervous jitters and completely unable to focus. Even under the influence of alcohol, Gracie was able to stop the man from sliding his hands up her skirt, dress herself, and leave his house. That night, she masturbated to climax for the very first time, ruefully regretful that she didn't let Mr. Roper have his way.
Unlike the time she kissed her father, the sexual tension between her and Mr. Roper didn't threaten their relationship. They remained close, then stayed near the boundary and never crossed too far over. God, I wish he would though, Gracie thought as she rode in his passenger seat, enjoying the warmth of his hand rubbing her thigh.
My three men, Gracie mused, all three much older than she, all three sexy in their own way. Her brother, who she'd found arrogant and pushy, seemed to be the one most likely to fuck her through the barrier of innocence and chastity. Then there was Mr. Roper, who she trusted and loved like a brother but also a mentor. He scared her the least and she felt like any day now she'd build the courage to tell him she wanted him. And then there was her father. His love for her as his daughter was palpable even though they shared no blood. Would it be he who discerned her deep need for fatherly affection, wickedly intermingled with deviant sexual desires? Who would be the one to claim ownership of her heart and win her sweet, young sex? She wished it was neither. She wished it could be all.
During school, Gracie received a text message. It read, "Hello Gracie. I have a proposal for you..." Before she continued to read she checked the phone number. It was blank. She was receiving a message, apparently, from no one. She read on. "I happen to be aware of some of your deepest secrets and I intend to fulfill them for you. I am no stranger. I have known you and watched you grow from a girl of eight to the woman you are today. I've smelled the freshness of your hair. I have witnessed the swelling of your breasts. I have felt the smooth curve of your womanly waist and the slim fitness of your smooth legs. What I have not tasted, and what I long to consume, is your sweet, sweet cunt."
Gracie gasped, her breathing increasing and her skin going red and hot. She looked around, blushing, and hid in a bathroom stall to finish reading. "I want you, Gracie Goode. In the worst way. I want to own and punish you, to deflower and debase you. I want to take control of you and turn you from a respectable young lady into my personal sex toy. And the thing is, you want this too. I know your panties are wet just reading this." It was true. Gracie bit her lower lip and kept reading. "I know how much you like to touch yourself at night and I know you're thinking of me when you do it. So let your deepest fantasies become a reality.
"Only reply 'yes' and you can have it all. If you agree, there are rules. You surrender to me, completely. You must do as I say. You have no safe word. You have no power. You do not ask questions. You will not try to find out who I am. Reply 'no' and your life remains the same. You won't hear from me again and you'll never know my identity. You will remain in your safe little world.
"So, what's it gonna be? Yes or no?"
Gracie sat on the toilet stunned. It was so hot in the girls' room and she was sweating. She remained locked in the stall until the bell rang for next period, reading the message over and over, her panties progressing from moist to wet to drenched. It was clear what she really wanted. And she didn't need to overcome some impregnable wall of chastity that was ingrained in her. All she needed to do was type three letters and the man, whoever he was, would take over. It could be Mr. Roper who would own her and take her. Or It could be her brother, Chase. Or it could be her Daddy, Dom who wanted to dominate her so completely. With sweaty fingers Gracie typed.
"Y-E-S."
After looking at the simple word for far too long, Gracie pressed send. Her body exploded with nervous sexual energy and sensual fear.
"Good girl," came the reply. "When you return home no one will be there. You will strip naked and walk to your father's room where there will be a package waiting for you. You must put on each item, go into the living room and kneel obediently. Then wait for me. If you do anything other than obey, the deal is off and you will remain the pathetic, horny little masturbator you are. So keep being a good girl so you can be made into the sweet little whore you wish you were. Remember, I'm watching."
For the rest of the day Gracie tried to decipher who the mystery man was. He said he'd known her since she was little. That only left three suspects. Her father and brother, she knew, had access to the security cameras. But Mr. Roper had a key to their home and might have been given access to the security system. He said he knew her secrets and knew she masturbated at night. Her brother frequently caught her in the act and so had her father a few times. She masturbated with her curtains open for years before realizing her room was directly across from Mr. Roper's bathroom window. He'd told her nervously that he'd seen her plenty of times, and to make it worse, it usually occurred after their tutoring sessions. So really, her new master could be either of them. It was terrifyingly delicious and her imagination ran wild all day at school. It was impossible to focus. Impossible to keep her panties dry.
At the end of the day, Mr. Roper dropped Gracie off at home, giving no indication that he'd sent any provocative messages to her. He was no more or less flirty than before, his hand remaining on her knee and subtly riding upward and inward as he drove. By the time they arrived Gracie's thighs were exposed above her white stockings. She nervously straightened her clothes and let herself out, noticing that Mr. Roper didn't park in the driveway but drove away instead without a word. It could have been him who'd sent the message. Or he could have been running some errands. Gracie could never know.
Butterflies fluttering in her panties, Gracie entered her home. The air in her home which had been a safe space for so long now felt charged with dangerous sexual energy. She called out to her father and brother. No reply. Her nerves buzzed. She went slowly to her room and started to strip. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she whispered to herself as her white B-Cup bra fell to the floor. Soon, her skirt, stockings and panties followed. She hesitated.
"May I have a shower first?" Gracie texted, feeling clammy from sweating all day. Reminded of her hairy crotch and armpits, she added, "...and a shave?"
"No, you may not," the reply came immediately. "Obey."
Gracie quivered fearfully as she tiptoed naked to her father's bedroom, her excited nerves rattling. It felt naughty to be naked in his domain. She saw the black box on the bed and opened it, removing its contents - a black lace lingerie set consisting of a black babydoll of very fine and flowy material, black panties, and blindfold. At the bottom of the box were a pair of expensive-looking earbuds and a leather dog collar. One by one she donned each piece - panties, babydoll, collar, earbuds and finally, after stepping into the wide open living room and kneeling on the floor, her blindfold.
There she waited, skin hot and tingling, heart throbbing, listening to her own labored breathing. Terror and desire mingled together and surged through her core, throbbing as she waited for what felt like hours.
Finally, she heard it - a car pulling into the driveway. All sounds, she found, were distorted by the special earphones. The front door opened and then closed. Heavy footsteps drew near. Gracie's heart sank and her pussy melted as she felt a man's unmistakable and domineering presence. "Mmm, good girl," he growled. His voice, changed by the special earphones, was like the engine of an expensive sports car. His hand lay heavy on her naked shoulder, caressing. She flinched a little. "Mmm. All mine." The man stepped closer than close and Gracie could feel the warmth of his crotch in front of her before she felt the smooth fabric of his slacks on her face. "You only refer to me as 'Sir.' Got it?"
Gracie nodded. "Yes sir," she lifted her chin to say.
"Good girl," Sir said and played a symphony in her hair, light strokes mixed with dark needy ones, tenderness mixed with a palpable urge to own and dominate. He rubbed his hardening phallus against her face. She wilted, surrendering wholeheartedly to the older man. Sir could be her stepbrother, with whom she had a love-hate relationship. He could have been her teacher, the handsome man who had mentored her from a little girl to a girl ripe enough to sexualize. Or he could have been her stepfather, the man who loved her so much as a daughter but had kissed her as a lover. And yet, it could be neither of them but a complete stranger. It terrified her as much as it turned her on. Please, take me, she sang silently.
Sir attached something to the metal ring at Gracie's throat. A leash, she realized when he pulled her to her feet and walked. She ended up in a room she was sure was her own. She yelped when the man picked her up with minimal effort and tossed her onto her bed. He bore down on her, pressing his weight on top of her sleight young frame. He used rope to tie her wrists to the brass poles in the center of her headboard. She felt his lips attack hers, spreading them to insert his dominating tongue. She was brought back to her kiss with her father, reliving the vivid memory as she sucked the unknown man's tongue.
"Mm, obedient little puppet," he growled. "I like that about you Gracie." His hands came from her wrists down her slender arms and further to her waist and then her legs. He spread her wide, coaxing out a little involuntary whimper. Her anonymous master sniffed her skin, starting at her neck, down past her tummy and between her legs as he held them separated by the knees. He took a long whiff, groaning. Gracie moaned. "You have a sweet-smelling cunt, girl." She arched her hips, begging him to stimulate her hot, needy pussy. He laughed. "Such a horny little lady. Be patient. Be a good girl." He pushed her pelvis down flat to the bed, then slid his hand upward again, traversing her flat tummy.
Gracie felt the halves of her nightie part and shuddered when Sir kissed her belly, tonguing her navel. He pulled the loose bow in between her breasts and separated her lingerie, exposing her breasts. "God, I'm gonna love devouring this delectable body," the man said. Gracie swallowed and waited, wanting.
"Yes, Sir," she said in assent.
His rough hands were then on her breasts, treating them rather unkindly. It hurt when he squeezed her tender tits, his heavy palms assaulting her sensitive, pink nipples. The hard nubbins flickered, sending electric currents through the poor girl. Her desire eclipsed her fears and she whined in her throat as the hard man took every liberty with her petite body. Her waist, her hips, her tummy, her arms, and her breasts, they were all his playthings. Gracie felt a strong hand swaddle her throat and squeeze. She tried to reach down and stop him but remembered her hands were tied to her headboard.
Panic arose and Gracie raised a foot to push him but it was futile. Sir snatched her knee and pinned her leg to the bed beside her hip. His hot, hungry tongue lashed her from her chin up her nose and to her hairline. "Sweeeet," he whispered to himself. She felt his tongue abruptly lick her breast. "So sweet." He closed his mouth around her soft orb, taking in as much flesh as he could, and sucked. Hard. Gracie squealed. It hurt so, so good. She prayed that he'd take off her panties next - a thought that thrilled and scared her too. Blindfolded as she was, she felt like another person. No more prissy missy. Only a filthy wanton in need of a good cum.
The domineering man switched to her opposite boob, gorging on it with rough passion, not being so careful with his teeth. A wilting, "ah, ah, ahhh," was all Gracie could manage with every bite and scrape as her man held her down. She widened her knees as she drowned in need, willing him to take her and fuck her. He didn't though, taking his time torturing the poor thing until she was a jittery puddle of want. "Please!" Gracie stammered, her voice small and hoarse. 'Please fuck me,' she wanted to say. 'Please make me cum," she would have begged if only her innocent lips could allow such filthy talk. She never used words like 'cum' or 'fuck' or 'pussy' or 'cock'. But at that moment her every thought was inundated with such obscenities.
"You're a horny little whore, huh baby girl?" The man taunted in his low rumble of a voice that filtered through Gracie's earphones.
"Yes, Sir," she whined, arching herself forward to press her hips against the big man.
He held her down by her bony hips. "Be patient. Be my good girl. Your time will come."
Gracie whimpered like a whipped kitten and endured another few minutes of sensual torment. Her skin grew hot and tingly from the man's touch. Her nipples were tight and achy from his suckling. Her body radiated with sexual energy begging to be released. She could feel how wet her panties had become and was ashamed. She sighed a deep sigh when she felt her torturer pull the front center of her panties down ever so slightly, just enough so she could feel the room's air on her hot cherry. Tears welled in Gracie's eyes as her man teased her. He refused to touch her cunt, even the little bit he exposed. Instead, he explored her legs, caressing her from her feet up to her thighs then back again. Up and up and down, slowly he went. All while Gracie's panties were just low enough to show off her sparse pubic hair and a hint of her shy clit.
Gracie tried to gain stimulation by rubbing her thighs tightly together. Sir didn't allow it long, separating her knees once again and licking her toes. He hummed in bearish delight and she flushed, remembering she hadn't been allowed to shower. She felt sweaty and a little unhygienic. But that didn't matter. The only thing that did matter was the hope that he'd get her off. Kissing a hard path up her inner thighs, Sir made his way to the crown of Gracie's femininity. He smelled her there, humming hungrily. She braced herself in hope, willing him to move her panties aside and have his way with her.
He pulled her undies off her hips a little, just below her ass cheeks in the back and below her pussy in the front. He smelled her again, sighing, his nose brushing her private flesh, the warmth of his breath making her quiver. With a grunt, the man raised Gracie's feet towards the ceiling. Oh God, this is it, she thought with frightened excitement. The man pressed a wet finger against Gracie's tender anal ring and began to slowly force his way inside. Though she wanted so badly for him to stimulate her hot cunt, she relished with all her heart her first anal penetration. She cried out. "Oh my Gawwd-uhh!"
"Oh-ho-ho," the man chuckled low as he fingered Gracie's ass. "You like that huh baby girl? It won't take much to turn you into a lovely little fuck toy. If only you could see how wet your pussy looks right now. Look at that pretty pussy!" It was true. The whimpering girl, filled with such a sinful brand of pleasure provided by a finger in her ass, knew exactly how wet she was. Her panties had been soaked in the center and she could now feel the slickness and the coolness of her copious juices. Superfluously horny and utterly humiliated!
Sir worked his finger in and out of Gracie's little hole, deeper and deeper. She sobbed at the edge of desire and fulfillment. It was as if she was suspended just at the juncture of lust, pain, and pleasure. Her pussy melted, her young body begging for so much more. She began to arch herself into sir's fingering, to her infinite shame. "Oh, you like that huh, sweetheart?" he taunted. "You act like such a sweet little priss at home and at school but deep down you long to be fucked into the mud."
It was hard to argue when a man's forceful finger is inside your asshole and you're secretly wishing he'd go just a little deeper even if it hurts. But what Gracie truly desired was to have her watery pussy tended to, pampered and cared for. It frustrated her that her captor hadn't even touched it since he'd taken down her panties. "Mmm-mm!" She gave a moaning whine to give voice to her lust. Her innocent lips could not form the words in her heart. "Mmm, Sir! Please!" Her plea was thick and heartfelt. Almost a cry.
"Please, what?" her owner asked, sliding his finger to the last knuckle in her ass and barely brushing her slick pussylips with his thumb.
"Do it to me!" she pleaded, shuddering.
"What do you want me to do to you? Tell me!" He sped up the pace of his anal fingering.
"Ohhh, Gawwwd!"
"I want to hear you say it. I want you to beg for this cock like a slut." Gracie heard him loosening his belt and thirsted for dick.
"I... I want your... your cock." Gracie's voice was light as feathers and her humiliation flared, but so did her lust.
"Say you want to be fucked by me," the dominating adult demanded as he fingered her asshole.
"I... I wanna be f-f-fucked by you."
He leaned into Gracie, speaking into her ear, a finger still pumping her anus. "You want that filthy cunt filled, huh?"
"Yeahhhh," she agreed, nodding vehemently.
"So be a good girl and beg for that dick!"
Gracie murmured helplessly as he probed her little anal hole. "I want it. I want you to fuck me. I want that cock in my p-pussy. Oh, I need it so bad. Fuck me. Oh, God, please fuck me like a little slut. Make me your obedient whore."
"Mmm, yeah," Gracie's master grumbled, satisfied. He slipped his finger out her ass and set it between her lips, watching her suck it desperately. He then untied her wrists from the bedpost and pulled her by the rope against the wall with her hands above her head. Her panties were down around her thighs and her nightie had slid off one shoulder as her owner pressed her face against the wall, breathing in her ear. "Here you go, slut." He inserted himself inside her from behind, surprising and delighting her. She couldn't hold in the deepest moan of satisfaction.
"So fucking tight," the strong man gasped as he sank into Gracie's narrow depths. "So fucking wet!" Already, the girl was at the edge of cumming by the second slow, deep thrust. She felt herself stretching inside. He was so damned big! A steady rhythm took hold. In and out. In and out. She panted in pleasure as her dominant fucked her, increasing in strength, confidence, and depth. Gracie started to cry out, her pleasure compounding. Was it her teacher fucking her so good? Was it her brother who had taken advantage of her frailty and underlying horniness? Or was it her Daddy who had finally taken his little girl's pussy? Gracie couldn't guess and she didn't care. All she knew was the strength of his thrust, the gruffness of his groans, and the sweet ecstasy of his cock drowning in her flooded cunt.
And his thrusts grew more rapid, more urgent, and more forceful. Gracie mewled aloud, bending forward as she surrendered to her owner, her hands tied and held firmly against the wall. "Ah ah ah, fuck me, fuck me," she whimpered to the rhythm of her master's hips crashing against her ass, his big cock ramming into her cunt. Overwhelmed with a myriad of sensations, Gracie came.
"Yes, cum on that cock, baby!" Gracie's man said as her pussy contracted on his rod. Suddenly, a stream of wetness erupted from her, pushing Sir out of her pulsating vagina. She cried out, squirming and gushing down her thighs, making a mess on her bedroom carpet. The man slid a finger into Gracie's ass and used his other hand to stimulate her squirting pussy. Her orgasm shifted higher as he strummed her clit, all while she rained between her legs. Her pleasure was a sustained explosion, blurring her vision and transporting her to a place where there was no sound or sight, or even thought, only the rushing waters of complete, consuming elation.
When she came back to herself, Gracie was crumpled on the floor and she felt a cock forcing its way in and out of her slack mouth. Her wrists were still tied together, sitting in her lap. She actively began sucking the surprise cock, loving it with her tongue. She hummed on her superior's heavy manhood, the afterglow of her euphoric orgasm lingering in her sweet pussy. As expected, the man aggressively began to fuck her mouth, taking a handful of her hair and controlling her, bucking his hips and grunting.
After a minute of fucking Gracie's head, Sir groaned aloud as ropes of sticky fluid began to burst forcefully from his cock. He removed his spurting cock from Gracie's soft lips and hummed all over her. Cum spattered her forehead and dripped down her nose to her chin. Semen striped her neck and her tits and her tummy. As Sir stood over her, desecrating her perfect white skin with his sordid seed, Gracie panted like a dog with her tongue out, welcoming more of the sticky substance she'd swallowed. She felt utterly whorish, utterly sinful, and completely violated. And she loved it.
Gracie sat in the corner blindfolded with her panties halfway down her legs, dabbing cum from various parts of her body and licking it off her hands. Her pussy, though sore, sang with gratitude as she cleaned herself, hearing her ravisher fix his clothes. "Don't move," he commanded. "Stay just like that."
"Yes, Sir," she said and licked a stream of cum off her forearm. She heard the telltale sound of him snapping a digital picture of her in her lewd state. Her pussy purred at the humiliating occurrence, knowing that he'd have a reminder of what he'd done to her - what he'd made her into - forever.
"Count to one-hundred, then you may move," he said. "Do not try to contact me. You belong to me. Not the other way around. I'll text you when I want to fuck you again. And you'll be obedient to me?" Gracie nodded. "Good girl. Bow, count."
"One...two...three...," Gracie began, and continued as she listened to her commander walk out of the house, get into his car and drive off. When she got to one-hundred, she removed her blindfold and untied her wrists but sat still in the corner as she convinced herself that the past hour had actually happened. Looking down at the panties stretched across her immaculate, soft thighs and dried semen all over her skin, she flushed. After a few moments of relishing her recent memories, Gracie found her fingers sliding down between her legs. With a careful finger slowly pumping her bruised pussy, her little thumb gliding gently against her aching clit and a finger in her sensitive asshole, Gracie pleasured herself for hours, bringing herself climax after climax.
No matter how many times Gracie came that night and many nights since, she could never reach the heights of pleasure her master showed her. All she could do was wait day after day after day for her teacher or her brother or her Daddy to summon her again. And so she waited. Patiently, obediently, wanton and horny.