Out of Hand?

At last the moment came. It was so sudden and unexpected. My pussy relaxed just a little more and I felt her hand curl completely into me. "Yes!" she cried in triumph and I moaned into my gag.

Fisted.

I was being fisted.

A woman's fist was inside me. It was absurd and grotesque but it showed me a pleasure I hadn't imagined. My hips moved of their own accord, ensuring that the hand within me found every spark of pleasure that it could. She began to pull out and I experienced a new pain as my pussy refused to free her. Then she sank back into me and I was filled again.

I cannot describe how it felt to be fucked by her fist. It went on for minutes. As I became accustomed to it, I could take it harder and rougher. By the end, she was using her hand in me like a vast cock. I have never experienced anything more intense. When I came, I thought I had lost control of my whole body. I was completely helpless in the grip of pleasure and her power.

After my orgasm she stayed in me for a while, letting my body relax and release her. When she pulled out, I felt strangely lost. I could hear the grunts and moans from the TV but I just buried my head in the bedclothes. I wanted to vanish away. I wasn't sure if I had been raped or if I had enjoyed myself. I lay there, resting, as she moved around by the side of the bed. Eventually she returned to me, stroking my whole body and whispering, "You're so fucking hot, babes. I knew you was a bad girl." I didn't respond. I couldn't.

She had got back onto the bed. I hoped she was going to uncuff me. I was shocked when I felt her pouring something cold and wet over my backside. "Gonna lube you up," she murmured. My body jerked in fear. I looked round. My fear double. She was weaaring a strap-on. It was a huge, thick, black dildo, bigger than any man I had ever taken. I could feel her massaging the cold lubricant between my buttocks. This was too much.

I grabbed the bed frame and tried to pull it from the bed. I used all my strength, trying to kick her and thrash out of her grasp. She roughly grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. "You know you ain't getting away, so just take it, babes!" she shouted. This time I would not submit. I continued to fight and struggle against her. She pushed me down and held me in place with her body. Without my arms I was useless. My wildly writhing legs couldn't remove her from me.

It took her a long while to position the tip of the dildo between my buttocks. I did all I could to make it hard for her. It didn't matter. I soon felt the cold wet tip of it nudging my tight anus. I would not relax, wouldn't give in, even when she pushed harder. I tensed right up until the moment that the head of it pushed inside me. I snorted and screamed against the gag.

"Oh yeah, babes, you know you love it," she whispered in my ear. I wondered how she could be so oblivious to my obvious distress. Either she didn't care or she simply couldn't comprehend what I was going through. Tears spilt down my face and I closed my eyes, trying to go away from the world.

I groaned, feeling sick, as I felt her work her hips and guide more of the dildo into my arse. I've had anal sex in the past and, on occasions, enjoyed it. This, though, was something new. This felt like violation. I wondered just how much of the thing she intended to push into me. I was open enough to take it now, so at least the pain of stretching wouldn't increase. The depth, though, worried me. The dildo had look far too long. I struggled a little but this only forced the dildo further. After that I remained still and let it into me. There was no point in anything else. I shut my eyes and lay there, limp.

When she was satisfied that I had taken enough inside me, she began to fuck. It hurt. That is the simplest description. It stabbed and stretched and filled me. The rhythm of her fucking increased in speed and I knew that I would have to endure worse before she was finished. The lube had at least made me slick enough for the sliding not to burn. I lay underneath her while she panted and grunted, pounding away at me. After a while, she reached underneath me and rubbed at my clit. I tried to forget the pounding and stabbing and only think of my clit. It felt good. I was sensitive and aroused. I thought that if I could at least cum, she might feel that the game was over. Weakly, I tried to respond to her fingers.

That was what she had wanted. "Yeah baby! You love it! I knew you would love it!" she cried, relieved. I wanted to tell her how wrong she was, how deluded. I couldn't speak. Instead, I moved in time with her, making my pain ease a little. "Gonna make your arse cum, baby!" she whispered in my ear, speaking as though I should be excited or pleased.

I shut my eyes and felt the movements on my clit. They were fast and frantic. It would be enough. As I got closer to orgasm, the feelings of the pounding dildo did, truly, heighten my pleasure. My pussy could feel the thrusting and I gave in to the pleasure that shone through the pain. I let myself cum, shuddering violently beneath her. She cried out in joy, "Yes my baby! Yes!" She sounded so innocently happy that I wondered whether she had any understanding of what she had put me through.

When she withdrew from my aching arse, I felt disgusted. Wordlessly, she cleaned me up with wipes and tissues. Once she had cleaned me, she lay next to me holding me close. I did not respond. "Was it good babes? Want me to uncuff ya now?" she asked. I nodded my head, not looking at her.

Once I was uncuffed and ungagged I thought about immediately attacking her. There was something about her, though, something pathetic, that made me pity her. As we got dressed, she asked me, "Was it good, babes?"

I looked at her seriously. "It was too much," I said, without malice.

"In a good way?" she asked. She suddenly looked vulnerable and scared. I realized that she was more damaged than I was.

"Not all of it, no," I said.

She began to cry.

I won't go into the rest of our conversation. I stayed much longer but there was no more sex. I haven't seen her since although we have spoken on the phone. I have written this story so that you can experience what I did. Was it rape? I don't know. Was I aroused at some points? Definitely. Will I being seeing Michelle again?

I'm afraid to say, that the answer is yes.