A Voyeur Pays the Price

I don't think she realised the irony of reminding me of this whilst fucking my face half-naked, or if she was just getting off on the situation too much to care. She began roughly thrusting the dildo in and out my asshole, fucking my ass faster and faster as she fucked herself on my face faster and faster. The strain in my ass was immense as she furiously pumped the invader into my painfully stretched ring harder and harder, in time with the increasingly wild thrusts of her hips over my face. Her pussy was soaking now -- the room was filled with the sounds of her sopping wet cunt slapping against the base of the mounted dildo. I could ignore the pain in my ass -- there was too much else to take in -- Heather's breath on my rock hard dick, the warmth of her body lying over mine, the pure, animalistic obscenity of the sight right in front of my eyes -- Heather's ass, drenched in sweat and pale skin flushed red with exertion, driving her soaking pussy onto me over and over again.

With every thrust she was gasping louder and driving harder. Her gorgeously wet pussy betrayed the lust that had overcome her, as her juices began to trickle down my cheek. I knew this couldn't last much longer.

"Oh! Oh!" she shouted, a sound unlike anything I had heard from her yet, almost vulnerable. Her ass trembled as the force of her orgasm wracked her body. She furiously humped the dildo as her juices gushed from her aching pussy. Her body trembled over mine and her shaking hands fell from the dildo between my cheeks.

Then, silence, but for her panting breath.

Only for a few, blissful moments did she remain, limp and powerless over my own naked body. She slowly slid off the mounted dildo, leaving a thick sheen of her cum on it. As she shifted forward, a thin strand of her juices momentarily connected the tip to her still gaping pink pussy.

Heather didn't say a word as she got to her feet, but she was breathing heavily. As my view of the rest of the room was returned to me, so did the full weight of the situation -- the almost constant beeping of the comments, my humiliating position with a dildo violating deep into my ass, and Heather herself. Somehow I doubted losing control like that would have lessened her temper.

She walked over to the webcam without looking at me, aware all of a sudden that it was still recording everything, and turned it off. I gave an involuntary sigh of relief. She turned to stare at me.

Her face was red, and her sleek blonde hair dishevelled and wild. Her white shirt was stuck to her body with sweat, and her black bra was plainly visible underneath it. She was still naked from the waist down -- her long, pale legs were flushed red, and the delicate smattering of pubic hair adorning her wet lips was exposed again. We just stared at each other, and I knew she had never hated me as much as she did right at that moment. My humiliation and lust gave way to fear.

She strode over to me, grabbed the skirt she had discarded earlier, and yanked the tape from my right ankle and wrist.

"Get dressed" she said curtly, before disappearing into another room. I didn't even watch her go. I fumbled between my legs and delicately pulled out the dildo that had been roughly lodged there for half an hour, and tore off the one strapped to my head. It was very wet to the touch, and sticky. I awkwardly grasped at my other wrist and pulled the tape from that. Finally unrestrained, I got deliriously to my feet and threw my clothes on. I didn't even care that my chest still had my own cum smeared over it -- this was one command I was only too eager to obey.

I had just finished when she re-emerged, clothed again and a little more composed. I automatically retreated to the door but she was faster. I backed into the wall and she advanced on me, until she was pressed against me. Whatever light perfume she had just put on couldn't quite mask the scent of her sweat. She grabbed me by the jaw, and I stared into her cold, blue eyes. Something about those direct eye contact moments made me feel like I was two foot tall.

"You can go," she said quietly. "But know this. You're mine now. You are mine to destroy whenever I please. I'll be in touch -- if I ever have to wait for more than one hour for a reply, if I think you ever disrespect me, or another woman, if you even step one foot out of line -- well, I'm sure you'll read the blog when you get home. Lots of people have copies of that humiliating little display you just did, all they need is your full name. And if you really piss me off, I'm sure a little call to the police will be in order."

I had no reply to this. Visibly shaking, as I suspected she was enjoying, I just nodded.

"Now get out." Without looking back, I bolted for the door and slammed it behind me. There was nothing I could do, no way out of this horrific mess -- Heather Dean was right. I was hers now.