by Dan Bruce
“Yeah, that’s it, Blondie! You open that mouth for me! You’ve had this coming for a long time, and now you’re going to get the full works.”
Without thinking, Emily obeyed, keeping
her mouth gaping open as the man freed her breast so he could unbuckle his belt and pull down his trousers and briefs to let them rest at his chunky thighs that were coated with fine black hairs. There was courser hair above the root of his cock – a black thatch of pubes that had been neatly trimmed – and more hair on his ball sac that dangled low and full with a big pair of churning nuts – the right, as with Emily’s tits, being the slightly bigger of the two testicles.
“Wider!” shouted Her Nemesis, as he grabbed his dick by the base of the shaft and pointed it threateningly at Emily’s mouth.
She obeyed, stretching her jaws as wide as she could – needy yet fearful – worried that she might disappoint the man. Emily wished that she could explain that she wasn’t what he thought – that her experience in cock-sucking was limited to say the least, and that nothing his size had ever gone in her mouth. But she knew it would just sound pathetic, and that he would probably laugh at her anyway, so Emily simply hoped for the best – giving herself over to be used by the brute.
Used! That’s a good term to describe what next happened. With no care for her pleasure, just using his new bitch, the man pushed his knob past the gaping lips. He allowed her a taste and he allowed her a suck then he set about fucking Emily Johnson’s face. There was no subtlety at all; just violent punching of hard vibrant meat in and out of poor Emily’s widely stretched mouth. It was an agony for the woman. Her mouth was battered by the hard invading flesh, and her knees were grazed by the hard cement floor as he shunted her around. She shifted her position every few seconds in an attempt to ease the pain on her knees. It helped to some degree, but there was nothing she could do to stop the mouth battering she got as his cock was thrust in and out, slamming against her gums and her teeth, her cheeks and the back of her throat. Her jaws were aching from the never before known stretch. Yet she welcomed the assault, rising above the hideous discomfort. She had Her Nemesis’s flesh alive in her mouth – his beautiful potent big hard cock, and Emily was in rapture of agonised bliss.
The man noted little of this and cared even less. He simply pounded into Emily’s face with no regard for her state. He slammed his cock in and out of her, relentlessly pounding his meat into Emily’s mouth. It was an oral attack – a cock punching at her, and Emily welcomed every penile blow.
Time became nothing; the unsavoury location all but disappeared as the man continued to violently fuck Emily’s face. His cock was a piston, pounding against the inside of her mouth, not caring about being scraped over the perfect white teeth. On occasions the man would bury it deep and press his glans against the back of Emily’s throat. It was then that Emily would panic; the man’s cockhead blocking her airway and causing her to gag. As she struggled to cope, Emily’s fingers gripped and clawed at the flesh of the man’s naked hips, drawing scratch marks down his skin. As he continued the assault, pressing into her virginal throat, instinct took over and Emily tried to push him away, but the man’s strong hands held her head steady, his fingers entwined with locks of ash-blonde hair, not letting her escape and breathe until he was ready to.
Emily choked and sputtered when the man finally pulled partially out, but she still wasn’t able to free her mouth of the penile invasion. Nor did she want to once she’d gulped in some air around the big plum-like knob that he’d left there. With oxygen again saturating her blood, Emily was sucking on the cockhead, her aching tongue washing it, flicking all over the contours, doing her best to pleasure the man, and hopefully earn herself another cunt fuck – the hours of rutting that sounded like a dream.
“Yeah, I knew you could suck a mean cock, Blondie. You love it, don’t you! But you can suck later. Right now I want to fuck your throat.”
With a knob in her mouth, she had no chance to protest! No opportunity to explain that it was a virginal gullet he was about to invade and some consideration might be in order. Not that she would have expected it anyway, but at least he would have known the score.
Oblivious to this, and not giving a shit - once again the man rammed his cock deep into Emily’s mouth. It struck the entrance of her throat like a battering ram, and this time forced its way through the defences and into Emily Johnson’s tight virginal gullet. Her reaction was immediate. Despite all her efforts to control and accept - Emily violently gagged, unable to stop the dry wretch. She pushed on the man’s thighs then in panic she banged them with her palms. Gaining no relief, the cock remaining wedged deep down her throat, Emily gagged again. She thought she might be sick and die of embarrassment, or if not, then asphyxiation might claim her instead. Emily pushed again, and thankfully this time the man relented. He pulled his cock completely out of Emily’s mouth, releasing her head and stepping back, leaving Emily to fall forward on her hands, coughing and spluttering.
“That was pathetic!” the man yelled. “My cock isn’t that big, you useless piece of shit!”
“I’m sorry,” replied Emily through her choking breath. “I’ve never... I’m sorry... I just...”
“Never!” the man derisorily sneered. “You mean to tell me that you’ve never deep-throated before! Well that’s going to change – and I suppose I’ll have to train you, as I’m guessing that your husband isn’t equipped for the job. Now listen up! My bitches suck cock and my bitches get face fucked – fully face fucked, which means taking it down the throat. You want to be my bitch, don’t you, Blondie?”
Through misty eyes, blurred with tears, Emily was staring at the hard cement floor – her humiliation total and complete. She looked to the man’s shoes that were only a yard away, a pair of traditional black brogues set a couple of feet apart. Then her eyes moved up the grey trouser legs to the belted waistband around his thighs where a pair of white brief lay trapped. The upper thighs that were bare looked so manly with their black hair, and the balls at the top looked so big and full, loaded with sperm that she yearned to have in her. The man’s cock was lobbing up and down, glistening with pre-cum and Emily’s saliva – the perfect instrument for delivering the seed, well at least where nature intended – into a womb where it might meet an egg. It was a captivating sight – a mighty phallus that could give so much pleasure, yet could hurt so much as well. Emily let out a moan as she recalled the high and the low – that incredible orgasm and the oral violation. Highs and lows, the rough with the smooth – Emily knew that with Her Nemesis it was all part of the package, because without the lows the highs could never be so good. It was what she had agreed to, and it was what she craved. Of course she wanted to be his bitch. Why else had she endured his abuse over the past month?
To give him the answer, Emily crawled the distance that separated her from Her Nemesis. She kissed one shoe then the other, nuzzling her brow against his shin as she lapped the tangy tobacco flavoured leather. Unable to credit her action, but impelled to continue, Emily worked her way upwards, kissing the trouser covered legs till she came to bare flesh which she kissed as well – thighs then balls, shaft then knob. And as a reward the bitch was given a treat – in a rare moment of tenderness that made her heart soar, the man stroked Emily’s long ash-blond hair as she adoringly worshiped his dick.
“Yeah, I thought as much. So we’ll try again in a minute. And when I do fuck your throat – just relax and take it. Trust me... I know what I’m doing, and I’m not going to suffocate you for Christ’s sake!”
“I’ll try,” said Emily, and she kissed the cock again, then slowly ran her tongue along the length, all the way from the man’s balls to the big purple head which she took into her mouth, accepting her fate.
“Good girl. Now you suck on that whilst I take off my clothes. I reckon I’ll be building up quite a sweat and I don’t want to ruin them.”
Emily obeyed, she sucked on the glans as clothing was removed – first jacket then tie
then shirt, which were placed on a wall-hook just within reach.
“Okay Blondie. Stop for a minute.”
Emily halted straight away, releasing the man’s cock. The erection sprang upwards and slapped his stomach with a resounding smack. Emily watched it in pure lust, wishing it was back inside her again – in her cunt, and in her mouth – although she wasn’t too sure about it going back down her throat. And as for her ass, well she’d see about that!
Knowing that her opinion was irrelevant, Emily watched transfixed as the man bent down to undo the laces of his shoes. It was then that she noted the upper body that was now gloriously naked and wonderful when bare. A fine mat of trimmed black hair adorned his flat stomach with a thicker band running all the way from his furry chest to his rich thatch of curly black pubes. His chest was well muscled with bulging pecs. Only the big prominent nipples that crowned these impressive swells were devoid of any chest hair which spread up to his collar bones where the matt ended. In contrast to this, the well padded shoulders and broad muscular back were flawlessly smooth. The ape in the man was perfectly contained!
Emily took all this in as Her Nemesis stripped out of his briefs and trousers and hung them up beside the rest of his clothes. The shoes came off to allow this then were put back on so he wouldn’t be walking on the cold wet cement floor.
“Okay, Blondie,” said the man, as he resumed his position in front of Emily, now naked except for his feet. “Let’s have another go. And when the time comes, relax your throat. If I hear a gag then you’ll get punished. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” replied Emily, stunned at her compliance, and sure that a punishment would be coming her way.
“Yes, Master” corrected the man. “My bitches call me ‘Master’.”
“Yes, Master,” said Emily, thrilled to the core. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that as an adult she would call a man that, but it felt so right and so good to do so. In the space of a few minutes, or unwittingly over a month, she had become a slave to Her Nemesis – Her Master and his beautiful cock.
And there it was again! It jutted before her. And ye gods, what a sight! It looked so potent and vibrantly alive - a beast of a prick, snarling in its hunger – eager to inflict righteous retribution on the slave that knelt before it. Emily looked at this hypnotic phallus that was lobbing before her, terrified of its power yet so needy of the infliction. The man reached for her, his fingers curling again to grip Emily’s sweat drenched hair. She could only stare as if in a trace, kneeling before Her Nemesis, worshiping the man’s pagan pole as he showed Emily another moment of tenderness and stroked her hair.
The moment was brief!
His fingers suddenly resumed their grip and the man pulled Emily forward. She shuffled her knees painfully on the hard floor, grazing the skin even further.
“Now we’re going to try again, Blondie. And don’t mess up this time or you’ll get a smack. But let’s start with some more sucking to warm you up. Open up wide and give my knob another good gobble. Do it like you did before – like you’ve being doing in you fantasies for the past month – you know the ones I mean.”
Emily parted as instructed, humiliated but so aroused that Her Nemesis Master knew her so well. She leaned to take the glans of the man’s dick between her lips – recalling how she had sucked on Les’s cock, dreaming it was someone else’s – dreaming it was this one that she was about to devour. The fact that Her Nemesis seemed fully aware of Emily’s detested mental betrayal only added to her thrill, and she leaned forward to worship the cock before her, intending to please as best she could.
She brushed her lips over the glistening tapered glans, smearing them with the silvery fluid that oozed from the eye. Emily opened her mouth to lick the big cockhead, lapping at it from the underside, across the tip, and then swirling her tongue up and down each side. Then without further prompting, Emily sucked the cock in, to cradle it in the soft moist warmth of her mouth.
“That’s it, Blondie! Now show me how much you adore my cock.”
Hoping to seize a modicum of control, Emily dared to reach up and grasp the base of the man’s dick with one hand, holding and cuddling the big ball sac in the palm of the other, while she licked and sucked her way up and down the long shaft, taking the cock to the back of her mouth before returning her focus to the glans. Again she teased the tapered head with her tongue, licking round the rim and prising open the eye. Cautiously she entered the generous slit, and hearing a loud groan of pleasure from Her Nemesis Master, she forced her tongue deeper and flicked it around.
“Oh yes, Blondie! That’s it – you tongue my slit. Tongue it deep you dirty little cock whore bitch.”
Emily repeated the action. She fucked the man’s piss slit with the tip of her tongue, forcing it in as far as she could and wriggling it around to inflame him all the more. The man’s hands gripped tighter on Emily’s hair, and he panted out loudly as Emily flicked deeper and deeper. Emily listened carefully to Her Master’s cries as she continued to flick her tongue in and out, probing his slit and wriggling ever more intensely. She probed so deep she could taste the man piss mingling with his pre-cum. It was a flavour so revolting to her, Emily almost retched, but she managed to force it back – whorish lust winning over her disgust. But increasingly it was this taste of the man’s piss that prevailed, yet Emily was unable to pull away and stop the tonguing of the slit. She probed even deeper, sickened and inflamed, spiralling towards the inevitable gag.
“You pathetic bitch!” the man yelled when he heard the croak. He pulled his cock from Emily’s mouth then slapped her hard across her cheek, spinning her head around. “Sort yourself out, you useless bitch, or by God, you’ll really suffer!”
Then his cock was presented in front of her mouth again. Emily open up and accepted. She forced herself not to retch and gag as she tenderly sucked on the velvety head.
But the stinging blow had brought some clarity which was far from welcome. Kneeling on her knees, sucking a man’s dick, Emily suddenly had an image of her older sister Nicola, two years her senior and a constant shadow when they were kids. Nicola was always deemed the better in every way: gifted academically, winning prizes at school, and getting a First from Oxford when Emily only scraped a Third; and she was sporty as well, playing a mean game of tennis, whilst Emily was more interested in the pretty dresses the players wore. Nicola was the shining example Emily was meant to aspire to, as a girl, and even now as an adult woman. She was happily married to a corporate lawyer who earned an absolute fortune, with two perfect kids, a boy and a girl – the grandchildren that were desperately wanted. Nicola was everything their parents hoped for – and whilst it was never openly stated, Emily was a bit of a disappointment to them, especially when she elected to become Mrs. Johnson, which Emily had done mainly out of spite.
What their parents didn’t know, or conveniently decided to ignore, was that Nicola was a nasty bully as a kid: always putting her little sister down; keeping Emily in her place with verbal chastisements and the occasional smacks across the face like the one she’d just received. She was constantly on Emily’s back, telling her that she was vain and a stuck up little bitch, and that the only good thing she could do for the family was to aim for a half decent marriage. Nicola had been outraged when working class Welshman Les was brought forward as a laugh. Seeing the reaction, Les’s interest was encouraged until he eventually proposed. Emily accepted! It was the only piece of revenge she could come up with, which was hardly the best foundation for a marriage.
An embarrassment! That’s what Nicola had called Emily when the engagement was announced. So what would Nicola say now if she could see her younger sister, practically naked on her knees, being used like a bitch and calling a man Master? How embarrassing would that be to Nicola and the whole family? Emily shivered at the thought and quickly pushed it away. Such visions and torments had no place in the present – there would be plenty of time later for her to torture herself so.
Emily reset a
bout the task she had been given and sucked again on Her Master’s cock, treating it like he had told her to do – worshiping it like she’d done in her fantasies. The man groaned appreciatively, murmuring approval and encouragement. Emily sucked and licked and absorbed the taste of his releases, fighting all the way so as not to cause offence by gagging yet again at the flavour.
Grunting with satisfaction, the man pulled his cock from Emily’s lips and traced them with the glans. He jerked Emily’s head back and told her to open her mouth and stick out her tongue. Emily did as he bid. The man dragged the length of his cock down Emily’s face, over her brow, passed an eye, down the length of her nose then onto the proffered tongue, leaving a trail of pre-cum behind him. She tasted him all the more as he coated her tongue with his tangy juice.
After he had repeated the exercise several times, delivering onto her tongue the pre-cum that his penis was so generously spewing, the man rose up onto his toes and pulled her face against his balls.
“Kiss them, Blondie! Suck them. Adore my balls with your mouth, you fucking submissive whore!”
Emily winced at the remark, but she kissed the man’s big hairy nuts. She buried her face in them and nuzzled her nose in the warm loose flesh that smelled strongly of musk trapped by the hair. She opened her mouth and took one and then the other inside, flicking around them with her tongue.
As Emily sucked obediently on the man’s balls, like a devil with a fork to goad her troubled soul, another image flashed in her mind. Emily saw herself having lunch with her career minded girlfriends, doing their usual thing and bitching about men, especially course and uncivilized louts, with no style, upbringing or class. They were all so assertive and modern in their views – they admired Emily for being the main bread winner in the household and having Les so firmly under the thumb.
Yet here she was, this paragon of women’s liberation, kneeling on grazed knees, nuzzling the scrotum of an uncouth man in some ill kept changing room in the basement of an office block. Emily wasn’t being forced – she was willingly doing it, revelling in the action. Her defeated sensibility whimpered, ‘No! No! No!’ but it was paid no heed by Emily’s mouth which ate hungrily at the big hairy balls, anxious to please and obey Her Nemesis Master. What would her friends say if they could see her like this – worshiping a course, foul-mouthed man’s balls, grinding her face against his dripping cock while she did so, instead of biting the bastard’s gonads off – for surely castration is what they would think the man deserved?
