Forced Sale

I asked Monica about the living area. She told me matter-of-factly that there was 7200 square feet total, 4100 here downstairs. We were back in the foyer, now, and heading upstairs. I followed Monica, again watching her ass. It was just about perfect. Her legs were thin, though still very well defined. Her calves were toned and sinewy, pumping muscles into the back of her sensible high-heeled shoes.

We moved through each bedroom, then into the master suite.

"I guess they've made a lot of progress up here. They're just finishing with the drywall patches, and you can request any paint you'd like if you offer the asking price. They'll also replace the carpets, too."

Maybe Monica was warming up a little, I thought. She sounded like a saleswoman for a moment. I thought about having hard wood floors and area rugs in the master bedroom, and walked around a bit. This room also had high ceilings, opening to giant windows. I looked out—standing at the windows, I was over the kitchen. We hadn't toured the outside, yet, but I imagined that the tall windows looked out over the golf course and made an impressive sight. We were facing northwest, I guessed.

I turned, and Monica led me into the master bath suite. At the entrance to the bath, there was a doorway that led to a true walk-in closet. Most homes have a large closet that is big enough for its own door and a place to stand. This home had a separate room for closet space, big enough for a love seat in the middle. It would made the changing room area at the uppity department store in the mall seem gauche. But this closet was not quite as polished: there was a giant roll of carpet padding, and a carpet stretcher and some more tools in the corner.

The tools and remnants left behind didn't bother me. But Monica rolled her eyes. "Why can't they clean this up?"

In the bathroom, we saw that there were more tools left behind and some small equipment in the corner. We went in, and examined the area where the bathtub would be.

"The pump failed just as the family moved out," Monica said. "They decided to leave the repair undone and let you install whatever you wanted, again giving an allowance if you met the asking price."

I nodded. I wasn't sure what to do with the bathroom. I would never use a soaking tub, but wanted a real hot tub outside. Maybe I'd make the shower area larger and install one of those six-head systems found in fancy hotel suites. Or remove the tub plumbing and put in a small box sauna. That would be nice.

To this day, I'm not sure what my motivation was for what I did next. Maybe I really was just that angry at Monica, or maybe I was really that attracted to her. I guess it had to be some combination of both. When I did it, I thought it was one of the dumbest things I had ever done. Big, public trouble like I was inviting would submarine my career just as it was beginning to blossom. But somehow I did it anyway.

As we turned to leave the bathroom, Monica tripped on a small tray of tools left behind by the workers. The wenches and parts rattled and then sprayed all over the floor. She lost her balance and fell, face first, onto the carpet. She was trying to get up and had her knees under her, her ass in the air provocatively.

I rushed behind her, planting a knee between hers. I grabbed her arm, and twisted it behind her back.

"Do you want this sale?"

"What?!" she shrieked.

"Do you want to finish this sale? I'll make a cash offer, for the asking price, if you do what I tell you." I jerked her arm.

"Ouch! Yes, I want the sale."

"Good," I said. I twisted her purse strap off her other arm and tossed it back into the closet. Who knows what she had in there.

I looped an arm under her hips and pulled them up. With my other hand, I pushed her skirt up. Since I let her arm free, she immediately tried to wiggle away from me. Rising up on her hands then pushing with her feet, she lurched forward. I stood up and tackled her again; now, we were just outside of the master bathroom and nearly inside the master closet.

The roll of carpet padding was in here, sloppily rolled and ready to discard. I had grabbed her waist, and again took her arms and flipped her over. Pinning her under my weight, I slapped her face hard. I had never done anything like this, but I had a surging feeling; that I was unstoppable, invincible. My cock was engorging.

"Ungh!" she cried as my hand hit her.

"I thought you were going to cooperate."

"Whatever you want," she spat.

"I'm going to fuck you."

"No!"

"You're pretty bitchy. Don't you think I have enough money to buy this house? Maybe a good hard fuck will take your nose out of the air."

Under me, she was panting, but I noticed that she wasn't trembling. There wasn't much sunlight entering the closet, but I noticed a roll of duct tape against the wall. I reached for it. I held one wrist in my hand, twisting it hard. "Roll over", I commanded.

She winced, so I twisted more. "Roll over!" She finally did.

"Give me your other hand."

"Don't hurt me," she murmured.

"Do what I say, and I won't, you snooty bitch."

She pushed her other hand behind her back. I took her thin wrists together in one hand, and I pulled off a generous strip of tape with the other. I began wrapping and twisting her wrists together. I pushed her shoulder, throwing her on her back. She was lying face down on the carpet padding.

I said nothing, and began taking her skirt off of her. It zipped, then unbuttoned, and I pulled it off her legs. I wasn't that shocked to see that she was wearing a garterbelt and hose.

"Well! Look at these fancies! Are you a little slut?"

"No," she whined.

"You look pretty slutty to me. Who else wears this kind of underwear, huh?"

She whined again, "No!"

Reaching under her shoulder, I flipped her over roughly. I began to unbutton her blouse. After the first couple of buttons, I caught a glimpse of her bra. I kept unbuttoning, and taunted her: "Did you get the matching set?"

She did. The bra was three-quarters cup, covering her nipples but leaving the tops of her breasts exposed. With modest lace trim, the bra's under wire was clearly visible. She had beautiful tits; big and round, wider than her feminine but square shoulders, held up and open into a delectable shelf by the bra. The white fabric of her bra and panties clashed with the darker tan stockings she was wearing, now that she was stripped of her grey skirt. Certainly, she chose the color so that it wouldn't show through the fabric of her blouse.

"Wait here," I said. I sprang up and returned to the bathroom, just steps away, and got a pair of bolt cutters I had noticed in one of the tool boxes. I returned.

When she saw them, Monica shrieked. "Don't hurt me!"

I knelt over her. "Shut up," I muttered. I put a jaw of the cutters into her cleavage, under her bra. With a very easy push, the cutters snapped the under wire and cut the fabric, letting her breasts spring free. The cutters landed with a thump on the floor and I pushed aside the remaining fabric.

Her breasts were perfect, with dome shaped areola and thick, rubbery nipples. I tweaked them. "These are very nice. Why don't you show them off more?"

Monica's breathing quickened. Her nipples stiffened at my touch. She didn't resist, I noticed, and she didn't recoil. I huskily pawed at her full breasts. They were firm, soft, and just wonderful. Her skin, across her chest and belly, was taut but not bony. It was flawless, pale. My hands continued to roam over her chest, squeezing her breasts and pawing at her flesh.

"Huh? You should show them off more. Or don't you think anyone else deserves to see them?"

I decided to stand up. My cock was raging in my pants, stiff, ready. Kicking off my sandals, I pulled my shirt over my head. Then I unzipped my pants and pulled off my boxers in one move. I stood over her with my cock erect.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, almost inaudibly.

"I'm going to fuck you, just like I said. Don't you think that's what you need? You're going to get a nice, hard, attitude adjustment."

She writhed, her hands still secure behind her. "No!" she cried.

I slapped her again, harder than last time, right across her face. It shut her up. Planting my knee at her side and my foot at her shoulder, I began rubbing my cock on her chest. "You don't want it? You don't want a good hard fuck, Monica?" My cockhead twirled in my hand, pressing against her nipple.

"Unh," she said. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with her breathing.

I lurched forward, showing my penis rudely in front of her face. "A good fucking is what you need. You won't be such a high-toned bitch when I'm done with you." With my fingers at its base, I slapped her in the face with my dick; from the left, then the right. I pressed my cockhead against her mouth. She pursed her lips, twisting her head, resisting me.

Pushing forward with my hips, I let go of myself and grabbed the back of her head. A few seconds more resistance was all she could muster; she opened her mouth and I slipped in side her. She swirled her tongue around my purple head, then let her lips rest against it.

For a moment I was worried she would bite me; when she didn't, I realized that I had her. I consciously chose, at this moment, that I would not treat her as a lover, or even as a woman. Instead, I vowed to myself that I wouldn't show her mercy; despite any protests she might make, I would fuck her as aggressively and carelessly as I desired. I would work her for my pleasure. She wanted it—she wasn't resisting, and if she had pleaded to me in earnest, I would have actually stopped. But she hadn't, and so that must have meant she was playing my game with me. What she didn't do spoke to me more; she wasn't biting me, she didn't fight, she didn't scream or scratch.

And with my resolve, I pressed myself into her mouth. My fingers tangled themselves into her hair, and I pressed her head firmly to the ground. I fucked her face, rocking my hips. Her tongue lapped at my cock inside her mouth, her lips gently circling my girth. Rocking, gently, I worked her face, pressing her head down and my penis inside her.

I was ready for more, so I left her. She gasped, and panted to catch her breath. Her body was fantastic, splayed before me. Her chest was falling and rising with her excitement.

The cutters were nearby, and I leaned over to get them. I put a finger into the crotch of her panties, brushing against her pussy lips, and I felt her wetness.

"You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?" I smiled, coyly.

"Fuck you," she hissed.

I yanked her panties away from her, my finger hooked in their crotch. Twisting my finger, I bunched the fabric together, then brought the tool down and snipped through the fabric easily and then discarded the bolt cutters. As quickly as I could, I pushed my hips between her knees, forcing myself between her thighs. My manhood found its target; I pushed into her. Her vagina was slippery, but accepted only the head of my cock before I felt her resistance. I planted my knees carefully beneath me.

"No," I told her. "Fuck you." I lurched forward, pushing myself into her as abruptly as I could manage.

"Unngh!"

With myself in her, I put my hands at either side of her and began pressing myself into her and pulling myself out of her. She moaned and murmured with each thrust, and her reactions struck me as terribly feminine. I was driven by the pursuit of her, by my own overwhelming desire to mate her. She writhed under me, gently squirming but not quite resisting. Her eyes were closed, and I felt her warmth encompass and cover me.

Despite her vulgar rebuttal, despite her hissing, she wanted it. She was wet and getting wetter. Arching my back, I could see her juices shiny on my dick as I withdrew. I pressed into her, then grabbed her hips and rocked back onto my knees. Drawing her waist up, her ass left the padding under us and I started fucking her harder. I tossed her feet over my shoulders, and gave her everything I had.

From this position, I could easily see myself penetrating her. As I withdrew, her thick lips were clinging to my cock. They stretched away from her body, as if I was drawing her tunnel out of her. When I pushed myself back in, they disappeared and her cunt caved in around my pressure.

I began concentrating on my strokes into her, thrusting into her and following with my hips only to collide against her buttocks. My bucking surges put ripples through her body, jiggling her breasts and shocking her whole body. She was very wet. I was surprised, in fact, at how juicy her pussy was in response to my abrupt treatment of her.

Each thrust I made resulted in a more insistent moan until I felt her legs tense. She was coming: my unwilling partner was reaching an orgasm. Never yielding to her screams or stopping for her moans, I continued screwing her until she subsided. Renewed wetness seeped from her pussy, comforting my cock as I thrust into and pulled out of her body.

Reaching to my own shoulders, I took both of her ankles in one hand and pulled them to my left. She rolled over, onto her side, exposing her bound hands. The tape was twisting around her wrists, but wasn't fraying or binding. Reaching under her ass, I pulled her up on her knees. I knelt behind her, holding my cock in my hand and guiding it back into her pussy.

This entry was far easier than my first, and I immediately began thrusting into her again. She groaned loudly, awkwardly lying with her face against the ground and her bound hands behind her at the small of her back.

Her ass was beautiful, round and shapely. Her hips swelled beautifully from her thighs. The cleft of her ass was between two rounded cheeks, beautifully marked with tan lines. I grabbed her hips, my fingertips over her pelvic bone and my thumbs digging into her soft backside. I squzeed her, pressing in and out of her smoothly and assertively. She seemed weakened by her orgasm, and I was enjoying the way she had yielded to me.

"Do you ever get it like this from your boyfriends?"

"Unh, unh, unh." Monica just kept grunting with each of my thrusts.

"Huh, Monica? Are you married? Does your husband fuck you good and hard like this?"

"Not married," she murmured.

"That must be the problem. You're not getting enough dick, and it's turning you into quite a snob."

I steadied myself on my knees and kept still. I began pulling Monica's hips back onto my cock, then shoving her forward away from me. She resisted at first, then let go.

"God, you're strong."

"Yes, I am." I let go of her hips and grabbed her wrists, pulling backwards.

"Oh, God, oh…"

I leaned forward, letting go of her wrists and grabbing her hair. Her soft ass was pressed against my groin and belly, and my angle into her changed subtly. Her tight pussy was holding me inside, warming me, rubbing my cockhead as I pulled backward and pushed forward within her taut body.

"Jesus!" she yelled.

I pulled her hair. "You like it? Huh?" I tugged her hair again, continuing my thrusts. Her soft ass felt great against my gut. I looked down, and watched as her flesh rippled when I inserted myself in her.

"Unh, coming again! Uuuuunh," and she broke off into a murmur. I could feel the walls of her pussy cling to me as I with drew, caressing the head of my dick. I kept thrusting, pushing back into her, working against her contractions as she came again.

"Yeah, you like it, don't you?" I tugged her hair once more just as she subsided. I withdrew from her, my cock slick with her juices. "I bet you'd like to get fucked up the ass."

She was panting. "No!"

"No, you wouldn't? That's what you said last time. And look at how much fun you're having."

I leaned toward her purse. I popped it open, it was tiny and demure, very professional. Looking back towards her body, I saw that her breasts were crushed under her weight, pressed hard against the carpet padding.

"Oh, God, no," she protested, weakly.

Finally, I found what I was looking for. She had a small tube of hand cream in her purse. I opened it, then spread a bead of cream around her asshole.

"Uuunh, no, not my ass, please," she continued. I could see her little bud clench. It was beautiful, pink, clean, tight.

"Oh, I'm going to fuck your ass. It's so pretty." With my index finger, I began spreading the cream around her hole, and then pressed in gently. She resisted.

"Let go of it. It's going in," I told her. I swirled my finger around, then pressed again. I could feel her quiver, then relax. My finger disappeared inside of her to the first knuckle.

"Yeah, there you go. Give it up, you bitch. You'll come down a notch when you feel my come running down out of your asshole, won't you? It'll be hard to be so prim and proper with your ass burning from my fat cock."

"Let me go!" she cried.

"Nope," I said flatly. I smeared some more lotion onto my cock, stroking it up and down my shaft, then adding more to my head.

"Here it comes," I told her. I pushed behind her, rising a little higher by planting one knee under her and putting more weight on my foot. I put my hand around her hip and under her belly. With my other hand, I gently guided my cock towards her asshole, pressing insistently.

"No, it won't fit, you'll hurt me!"

I pressed harder. I was surprised that she yielded so quickly, my cockhead disappearing inside her just as my finger had done before. Her asshole was tight, clenching me.

"Ooooh, God, ooooooh," she moaned.

Without hesitation, I continued to press into her. My hand under her belly pulled her back to me, and I pushed forward with my hips, feeding myself into her. I watched her ass take my meat, my penis disappearing into her anus. Her tight ring was accepting my advance, her body going limp under me.

"Oooh, God, oh, oh," she hitched, and then a low moan escaped her. I was all the way in.

"Feel it? It's not so bad, is it? I bet you love getting fucked up the ass."

"Unnnnh," she said.

I started pulling back. Slowly, then more aggressively. And then I started fucking her ass. I worked at a slower pace than when I fucked her pussy, but I pressed into her insistently and withdrew abruptly. Again, and again, Monica moaned with each thrust. Her body was quivering under me.

"You're so tight. I'm going to dump a load of cum in your belly. You ready for that? Huh?"

She just groaned again. I quickend the pace, my orgasm approaching. My balls tightened, and each plunge of my cock into her clenching anus brought me closer to the edge of my excitement. And as I reached it, I mercilessly thrust my hips into her, crashing against her ass.

"God, yeah! I'm going to dump a big load right in your ass, oh, you fucking bitch. Oh!" I began to clench, then spurt. I didn't stop thrusting. I felt myself let go with a blast of come.

"Feel it? Feel it in your belly? Huh? Oh, God!" Three, four, five, six times into her I injected another squirt of my juices.

Then I was spent, and withdrew from her. I lay by her side, panting.

She looked at me. "Will you untie me?" she asked, quietly, flatly.

"Yeah." I went behind her, grabbing the cutters. I used the blade to slit through the thick, sticky tape and quickly ripped it off her hands.

She flopped to her side, and I lay next to her. I turned to look at her and she started crying.

"Oh, come on. You're going to cry? After that? I gave you the fuck of your life. And you were good, too. Your pussy is really tight." It was the meanest thing I could think of saying, though it was something of a kinky little compliment. I meant it in a demeaning way.

Another wave of sobs hit her, and she was crying in earnest.

I pressed her verbally, just a little more. "Christ, look at you. You got a screwing other broads would wish for, and you're crying about it. What's wrong with you?"