A Fuck Toy Graduation Episode 01

"Thank you for fucking me. I'm a worth fucking, cum slut of a cunt and I don't deserve to come but I did. I beg you to let me come again!" Taylor knew it wasn't exactly the same but she'd lost track as he fingered her pussy.

"I love your cock in me."

"I love your cock in me."

"And you can have me for as long as you want. Fuck me until I can't come any more."

Taylor hesitated. His finger pushed into her. It withdrew and she felt him move in behind her. First his cock nuzzled at the back of her leg and then it was at her entrance. She adjusted her ass to receive him. He thrust into her. She felt his passage, milky smooth, sliding deep into her. She groaned.

"Please fuck me forever. Make me come on your cock as often as you want. Fuck me until I can't come any more. I'll come and come and come if you keep fucking me." Taylor's voice warbled. Matt fucked her. In and out of her pussy, her body responded immediately and she hunched under him. The climax rose up in her again. She grunted, she shook, she came, grinding her hips on the counter and pushing back at Matt as he rode her. His big hands clutched her slight hips and held her while he pounded into her. Over and over he rammed into her until she came a second time, then a third. She was cum fucked delirious when he came in her. Her body was singing with sensations, and her pussy was pulsing around his hard cock. His hands clinched down on her and he shoved deeply into her. He hunched at her from behind, pumping more cum into her drenched cunt.

Cunt.

The word echoed inside her. It aroused her. It thrilled her. She couldn't refuse it, or deny it. She cried out as a quick flash of pleasure tore at her.

"Oh sweet Christ, fuck me!" She cried.

Matt ignored her, continuing his little twitches, pumping against her bent body.

"Oh Matt, call me a cunt!" She cried. Matt grunted then leaned over her, kissing around her bound arms.

"Taylor, you cunt. You are a fucking whore, no, whore's are worth money. You are worthless except as a cum dumpster. You are a cunt with no tits and a face like a horse. Your armpits make me puke. Your shoulders are bony and broad, like you were intended to be a man but they ran out of dicks so they had to give you that nasty cunt I'm buried in up to my balls."

Taylor was shuddering. Just the words themselves did something to her. She groaned when he stopped talking, longing to hear his voice again.

"Time to suck cock, sweety. On your cunt licking knees. I wish your sister was here now, I'd fuck her full of cum and then make you lick her clean so I could fuck her again, unless she's as fucking ugly as you are. What a cunt, Taylor, what a cunt you are!"

His cock slurped out of her. Even Taylor could hear her body sucking at his cock as though it refused to release him. Then it was gone. Matt pulled her up off the counter and she knelt. Fear ran riot in her veins. She'd never even sucked a cock before. She'd had one in her hands but not in her mouth. On her knees, she came face to face with it.

Matt wiped her face with his cock, streaking her cheeks with their mingled cum, leaving wet tracks on her skin. When he swabbed her lips, she licked them automatically and added the dank taste of their copulation to the strong smell of his cum on his cock. Finally he got her to open her mouth so he could insert his cock. She fixed her lips around the head and sucked on it like it was a baby bottle. He kept trying to force his cock deeper but each time, she'd gag and bob her head to expel him. Finally, he stepped away from her.

"Shit, you act like you've never sucked cock before. You're terrible at it. I can do better with my hand. Fuck it. Let's go wash you off and I'll fuck you a couple more time and then we better go. The thing will be over if we don't leave pretty soon.

They went up and showered. Taylor kept expecting him to take her there but he didn't. He left her fully bound and washed her, inside and out. She felt more like an object being scrubbed clean than she had when he mounted her. By the time he dried her off, she realized she wanted him to take her in the shower. Instead, he stood her before the vanity mirror and entered her from behind. She watched her own face crinkle and kink as he fucked her, each time she closed her eyes, he'd stop until she opened them again. She understood pretty quickly that he wanted her to watch in the mirror while he fucked her. He did. She did.

The moment she came, however, was when he released her waist and reached around her bound arms and pinched her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. Her orgasm was cataclysmic and violent. She nearly fell down it was so violent. He held her up, at first holding her by her little nipples and then, finally fucking her from behind very hard. She ended up bent against the mirror. While he fucked her and eventually came in her again. She thought that was all but he made her get to her knees and wiped her face with his cock again. It seemed strange to her but he got hard again. He didn't ask her to suck him and she didn't offer, embarrassed at his judgment of her mouth and its ability.

He sat down on the toilet and maneuvered her to face away from him, his knees together between her legs, her arms still bound behind her. He made her sit down on his cock. Despite his hands on her waist or around her body, Taylor felt like she was about to topple off of him the whole time. However, with her weight fully settled on his cock, she felt plenty full of cock. When she finally came, her body bucked and jerked and she sprayed. This time there was no doubt. Her eyes were open and staring down at his legs between hers when a wide fan of liquid sprayed out of her. It splattered them both. She could barely stand.

Matt made her stand and move off him, then he bent before her, licked her nipples a little before entering her from in front. She had no control, no balance. She was a cunt full of cock. He lifted up under her, his hands on her ass. She had to tense her torso to keep from tipping over backwards. Sealed at the crotch onto his cock, she groaned as he straightened his legs under her, lifting her into the air, mounted on his cock like a corsage, his hands gripping her firmly. She couldn't move, she moved her legs to hook around his iron thighs. He lifted her and dropped her, like he was moving her around on his cock. Taylor stared at him but he gave her no notice, straining to keep them both upright, her mounted firmly on his spear. She felt the climax approaching and feared they would tip over backwards, onto her back. When she orgasmed, Matt turned and banged her against a bathroom wall. She grunted and let the final orgasm rumble to a halt.

Untying her with the wet rope proved impossible. Finally, Matt had to go get a knife from downstairs and cut her loose. They showered in silence. To her amazement, it wasn't a tense or awkward silence, it was utterly calm, easy. Their night of misery seemed to have been washed clean. They washed each other. She was sore inside and out. She felt like she had bliss covering her and was reluctant to escape its hold. She did regret not feeling him on top of her properly, her back on a bed. She'd been fucked, she didn't doubt that, someone else would have to make love to her. This wasn't that. The drive downtown was equally silent. In the parking lot, he pulled his duffel out of the back seat and thanked her for the ride. He hesitated then fished in the duffel for a pen, in black ink, and wrote on her wrist, a phone number.

"In case you need a refill." He said with that smile on his full lips. Then he just turned and walked away without looking back. Taylor's body had been broken, she was a virgin queen no more.

BREAKING TAYLOR'S MIND

Taylor went into the celebration of Evan Lars Johnson dulled, in a post-orgasmic haze. Ky had a seat at the guest of honor's table but Evan Lars was taken with Miss Cummings. That she reportedly left with him proved the source of much gossip and speculation but she never confirmed nor denied any of it. Johnson left Swanson without any reference to Miss Cummings. Ky was apoplectic at being ignored and soon was drunk, despite her age and the laws against it. No one seemed concerned.

Ash, however, was concerned about Taylor and sought to console her for the disastrous night. Taylor let it all slough off of her like water on a duck's back. She felt the awful glow deep inside her where Matt's cum still bubbled and oozed, making her sticky and wet when she turned just so or bent from the waist. The constant reminder of her "night" kept her aroused the rest of the time, but also long afterward. She had an otherworldly calm about her that made Ash nervous and, when Ky eventually escaped the VIP table and joined them, infuriated her. Ky had this sixth sense about people, when they were hiding things she wanted to dig out of them. With her relentlessness, she could usually browbeat people into disclosing just to shut her up...which never worked because once she got what she sought, she blared it abroad like an announcement over the PA.

Taylor knew that about Ky, hated it, but tolerated it because Ky was as popular as she, at the beginning of Senior year and they'd found a detente so that they tended to work together rather than to tear at each other as had happened previously to their mutual detriment. Taylor endured Ky's probing with an ethereal calm that Ky noted but couldn't explain. Eventually Evan Lars left, with Miss Cummings on his arm and the event petered out into dancing by non-dancers and drinking by actual drunks. Ash wanted them to get the dance team together and do something to wow the dwindling crowd but neither Ky nor Taylor were in the mood, though their moods were diametrically opposite. Ky was dour and Taylor was blissed out.

Taylor went home. She wrote in her diary. She sat on her bed and wrote a long, detailed entry about Matt and ropes and her various orgasms. Not because she feared she'd forget but because she adored reading about it, she knew it would give her occasion for many private events at the tips of her own fingers on her body, tweaking and titillating as only she knew how to do. That she'd finally experienced something that was better than her own ministrations thrilled her, and encouraged her. So she wrote it all down. She ended the long entry with a simple question. "What have I become?"

The next morning, well she slept till nearly noon, she took out her diary to reread and relive the experience only to find black ink in her diary. Taylor never wrote in black ink in her diary. Miss Stineway, her AP English teacher, demanded that her AP English class be able to write cursive English and graded heavily on penmanship. This seemed absurd to everyone but Miss Stineway who was a whole anachronism all by herself, to say nothing of making high school Seniors learn to write cursive English in the age of the Internet and voice driven word processing. She demanded all writing exercises be in black ink. As a result, Taylor who hated the exercises because her cursive was, as the dried up old croon described it, "little more than chicken scratchings" never wrote in black ink anywhere else. She used blue most of the time but in her diary, she had green and red ink pens to give it some flash and grandeur. She imagined the colors could reflect her mood, rather like a permanent record of a mood ring. The appearance of black ink in her diary, consequently was inexplicable. The words, however, magnified the effect on her because they clearly answered the question she'd written the night before. It was the effect on her of the answer that it magnified.

In black ink, written in bold block letters was the simple entry: "A Cunt and a Slut."

Taylor had no doubt that the entry was a direct response to her written but heretofore rhetorical question. She received a call from Ash demanding to know if she was driving them to the parade, that the dance team was participating it, except for Ky who was going to preside as the reigning queen, so the black ink moment was left for later. The day passed but the feeling that something profound had happened to her dogged Taylor the entire time. Ash noticed immediately that Taylor was distracted and finally commented on it. Ash asked if she was okay.

The question reminded Taylor of being tied, lying on the island in her kitchen, her nippled rubbing against the cool ceramic while Matt used her and the arousal flooded her body. She had to turn away to hide the color rising in her cheeks. Ash thought she was sick. Taylor thought in response to Ash's question, "No, I'm a cunt." The thought amplified the arousal flooding through her. She didn't recognize it but this was the other part of her breaking, the shattering of who she was into the broken woman she was to become. It began with the black ink in her diary. "A Cunt and a Slut." This breaking required more time and various experiences to change her, for it was her mind that would change. Her body was now transformed, converted into a needful thing that would seduce her into actions that served to sate that need, serving that purpose alone and none other.

That night she asked another question at the end of her entry in her diary: "Can I ever feel that way again?"

The next morning, she woke up and checked her diary again and again, in black ink, she had an answer: "Yes. Of course. You're a Cunt, just a cunt and a cunt gets used."

Staring at those words in her diary, Taylor wondered if she was losing her mind. Was she writing in her sleep in ink she never used to express what she was thinking and fearing and yet clearly wanted for herself? The urge to get all dramatic about it fizzled the more she thought about it. She decided to do some basic experiments. That week, she took the diary with her latest entry in it and left it in her locker at school. Her entry ended with another question: "How? How can I get back to that feeling again?"

The next day, when she checked it at school, there was a new entry, in black ink: "Suck cock." Nothing more.

That week after Matt used her was the last time she got nearly instant answers. She knew, virtually for certain that no one was writing in her diary but her. It wasn't her sister, Anne, who would have no qualms about violating Taylor's boundaries in that way, an irony given Taylor's breaking of body and mind. Nor was she writing in it herself because the entries appeared even while the notebook was at school. She took the diary back home and hid it well with a new entry.

"Who's cock should I suck?" For days she checked for more black ink and found nothing. Finally, she got busy and quit checking it everyday.

Ky emerged from Homecoming frenetic and crazed. Ash thought something was wrong but Ash always made a Federal case out of everything, leaping to the most dire conclusions with the slightest provocation. A cloud over the sun presaged the sun burning out and the earth freezing over, to which Ky muttered at least they could stop worrying about global warming. Ash wasn't amused. The three of them hung out all the time. Together, they formed a barrier to anyone talking to any of them. Apart, they interacted with the rest of the school more or less normally but together they were intimidating to nearly everyone. Not Kam Klemminson, though. Kam was a middle linebacker on the football team, destined for college football at USC where his cousin, Greg Goldberg played. Greg fashioned himself as The Streak, since he was fast, even in football pads. He'd been visiting Swanson off and on for years, so that Taylor had dubbed him "Sunshine" because he looked and acted just like the California kid in the movie, "Remember the Titans". When Greg came to Swanson, he was Sunshine.

Well, Ky developed a fixation on Kam. Kam was quiet except on the football field, not shy but...sleepy. He seemed to focus on nothing, to drift along, never reacting to anything around him quickly or strongly, always with a sort of languid indifference. On that football field all the changed and he became a force of nature. Taylor, in the weeks after being broken, developed a thing for Kam but had to keep it hidden out of sight because Ky had developed her own fixation. Kam was cut and had the habit of wearing tees that only came down to his sternum, leaving his impressive abs visible. Had Taylor done such a thing, she'd have been sent home but Kam, having a scholarship to USC on offer and accepted, was not restricted to such dress codes. Plus "The Enforcer", Mrs. Langston, an imperious black woman, eyed him with the same hunger as all the other women, so he got a pass. That sort of attention never phased Kam. He went about his life doing what needed to be done, as though storing up every moment and turning it into ferocity on the football field, where his aggression won him plenty of plaudits.

Ky seized on a plan, that she ascribed to Taylor to deflect her transparent intentions. Taylor had suggested at the beginning of the year that they should start an "Adults Club", just of Adults. No minors allowed. A club for Seniors who'd turned 18. Taylor was already 18 when the year began, a remnant of her mother's neurosis as a younger woman when she decided to hold both Taylor and Anne out of school a year longer than necessary to ensure they were "mature enough to deal with the world" when the left the protections of home and family. Ky had scoffed at the idea that first week of school but after she turned 18, the Monday before Homecoming and after her mixed success at Homecoming, she suddenly decided it was a fabulous idea.

She got a list of Seniors and birth dates in a spread sheet and sorted it by birth dates. Forty-eight Seniors would be 18 before the end of the year, oh and one Junior, Anne, Taylor's sister. Anne would be 18 in April, the sure sign that Tara Dillon's neurosis hadn't been just a passing whim but was a full-blown philosophical statement etched into her daughter's lives. The funny thing was that the birthdays were not evenly distributed, forty-six of them turning 18 before the end of March, leaving only two women and Anne in April and, surprisingly, none in May. June didn't count since graduation was the first week of June. Kam, it turned out, had a birthday before the end of September.

Ash did also and Billy Barker, Bobby Draper and three girls, Galene Simons, Melissa Brown, and Denise Thane. That made nine. Ky wanted to invite them to a party, an Adult party. Ash, always the tender-hearted, wanted to wrap little presents for the new Adults, not including herself in the group. They three agreed that starting the Adult Club was a great idea. It wasn't. Not at first, anyway. They played spin the bottle, Ky's idea. Taylor thought it was infantile until Ky got to make her kiss Ash. Ash's lips were soft and warm and Taylor felt the warmth clear down between her legs.

By then, she was having a regular dialog with her diary. She made a note to mention kissing a girl but it got sidelined by what came next. Taylor got revenge by making Ky kiss Ash too. The game proceeded but Ky got bored. She proclaimed it was over and that since this was an Adult Club and they were adults, and since there were twice as many guys and dolls, the guys should get to pick a girl to go into one of the bedrooms with. The guys were no fools. Kam didn't hesitate. He pointed to Ky. Bobby Draper, a bit of nerd but with karate chops, pardon the pun, picked Ash. Billy, understanding immediately the game, picked Taylor. The three "Adults" who were initiating the others into the club. It was their club and Billy understood if he picked someone other than Queen Taylor, he'd be left off the guest list the next time.

Billy was, what Ky called, a malapropism with a cock attached. He had a penchant for saying the exact wrong thing virtually anytime he opened his mouth. Which was a lot. Billy liked to talk. He apparently thought "political correctness" meant being able to name the American Presidents in order, which he could do, or the British prime ministers, which he could not do. He constantly forgot Disraeli. He was smart but not wise, quick but not precise, loud but not profound. When he pointed at Taylor, though, she got a feeling between her legs that had a lot more to do with what her diary had been telling her to that point than anything she thought or felt about Billy.