Not Alone at All

His fingers curled into her hair, and once again, he filled his fists with her strands. He pounded her mouth down hard on his sex, slamming her on and off of himself. She resisted the urge to scratch at him, recalling, with a tiny shift of her hips, the spanking her sex had taken. That garnered a totally unexpected reaction, and she felt herself gush wetly in response. Her cunt muscles clenched, and unbidden, the memory of his fingers inside of her filled her clouded mind. She moaned in her throat without meaning to and felt her assailant pick up his pace, using her mouth hard and fast. She held on as best she could, and swallowed whenever his thrusting allowed. He pulled her hair hard, twisting his handfuls painfully, slammed her. open mouthed onto and off of his cock. She felt his balls tighten against her chin and lower lip. She knew he was about to cum. She wasn't prepared for the way that he slammed her and held her there, though, pinned against his crotch, impaled, as his cock leapt and jumped in her warm, wet mouth and convulsing throat. He pushed himself, deeper and deeper still, forcing her to swallow his considerable load. Her throat leapt and jumped with his sex, and semen slid into her stomach, and filled her cheeks around his sex, the pressure within her mouth built, and she realized he had no intention of letting her mouth free until she had swallowed. She relaxed her mouth and more cum slid past his head down her throat and into her belly. She schooled herself and swallowed purposely, her mouth and throat undulating along the length of his cock. Satisfied, he pulled her head away from him, sliding her off of his sex, and she caught herself gasping for air, as for the second time that night, she was yanked to her feet my her hair. She was twice as surprised when he kissed her hard, exploring, no ravaging her mouth with his tongue. She sagged against him slightly, but then remembered she was being raped. She flailed her arms and pushed against his chest as he broke the kiss. Chuckling, he held her still as she struggled.

"Good apology, slut," he laughed. With that he forced her backwards, knocking her off-balance. He fell on top of her as she landed on her bed, and freed his hands from her hair to trap her wrists, his hands easily encircling and dragging them once again over her head. This time he forced her thumbs together and wrapped his index and middle finger around them, pinning them tightly together, and holding her there, holding her down. She was insulted by the ease at which his two fingers immobilized both her hands and her struggling arms, and she kicked her legs wildly, thrashing with her torso as best she could.

He chuckled and dragged his index finger firmly but gently from her forehead across the corner of her eye, down her cheek and to the hollow below her bottom lip. He rubbed there gently while she kicked and twisted, and her body slowed it's fighting without permission from her will. He chuckled again as he took in the perplexed look in her eyes.

"Still think that you don't like this, slut?" She gasped another sharp double-intake of breath and renewed her struggle, focusing on breaking her thumbs free of his fingers' iron grip. He laughed low in his throat, sounding irritatingly self-assured.

"You should relax a bit, whore, you might enjoy this even more than you are already," and with that he plunged the same two fingers from earlier on back into her sex, which was running, wet with her cream. She forgot her struggle a second and arched herself up to him as he penetrated her swift and deep, pounding in and out of her, working her juices up to a thick, foamy froth, whipping her lust she'd so tried to hide, and leaving her panting and moaning, whimpering loudly as his hand slammed against her. His fingers curled inside of her and she yelped and jumped as his thumbnail pressed into her clit, pinning her sensitive bud between the tip of that nail and the tip of his two fingers inside of her. For a second, she was absolutely still. Her eyes flew wide open with bewilderment and disbelief as she recognized the feeling that shot through her abdomen and violated sex. She needed to cum.

"Don't you fucking dare cum, you little whore." He spoke into her ear and she jerked her head away, frowning and glaring at him, her eyes narrowed and full of one question.

"You think I don't know when a slut needs to cum?" He laughed at her, softly, just barely derisively, but worst of all knowingly. She renewed her struggle as his thumbnail dug deeper into her tender clit. He pounded his fingers into her harder, adding a third and curling that one, too. She couldn't decide which sensation to focus on; the pain in her clit as he ravaged the tender bud, seldom even touched, let alone manipulated roughly, or the pleasure radiating through her G-spot, egging her on, just begging her to give into him and cum. She settled on fighting both for the moment, and was walking the edge of some unexplored precipice within herself when he suddenly shifted gears.

He stood quickly, dragging her hands by the thumbs down to rest on top of her pubic mound, as he planted himself firmly between her knees, which had at some point, lost their fight. He pushed her own hands against her mound and quickly released her clit from beneath his thumbnail. She screamed and bucked as the blood rushed to engorge her most sensitive spot, and he spread his fingers wide inside of her, still curled and pushing against that irritating spot inside of her that sometimes made her wonder if she had to urinate. The sensation quickly turned back to lust, and she reached for her orgasms, without even thinking. She arched herself further and moaned and cried out loudly, almost there, just touching the edge of a release she knew would curl her toes.

"I told you no already, slut1" He snapped at her, annoyed and frowning. She actually grunted at him, low and angrily as he removed his fingers from inside of her. She glared into his bemused hazel eyes as he brought his fingers again to her mouth. He hovered, his fingers just out of reach of her mouth, which was full of gritting and bared teeth.

"And now you know, little slut," he said, as he painted her lips and chin and neck, "what not to do. Don't you?" She narrowed her eyes and glared harder, breathing heavily, smelling herself on his fingers, and on her own face.

"Don't you, whore?" He asked, as he squeezed her cheeks on either side of her mouth. She decided to save her fight and nodded at him quickly, still flaming him with her eyes.

"You're such a smart little slut. Good whore." He said, his voice filled with the timbre of actual praise and she hated that a part of her thrilled at that; a large part of her, in fact. "More enthusiasm this time, whore," he instructed her, and she shocked herself by doing his bidding, sucking greedily, lapping with her tongue, as he inserted one big finger at a time into her wet and willing mouth.

"You're such a good slut," he chuckled. "I knew you'd love being a whore." She glared at him questioningly, her mind racing as she tried placing his face again, but the only answer she got was his hands digging into her hips and dragging her ass to the edge of the mattress, his sex ramming deep into her wet cunt as he did so.

Embarrassed, she felt herself squirt as he pounded her, no longer even holding her hands captive. She flung them out to reach for and pound at his chest out of sheer pretense, now.

"Stop," he commanded her, as she rolled the small of her back into the mattress to reach for him. Again, to her surprise, she complied.

"Be a good whore," he said. "Arch your back the other way. Slip your hands under there like a good slut." She did everything he told her to, not even questioning her obedience, this time, gasping loudly as the head of his shaft popped through the mouth of her cervix, and pushed deep inside. He slammed in and out of her hard, digging into her hip with his right hand, the curved bone beneath his thumb. His left hand snaked under her ass and he hoisted her up, plunging even deeper as she cried out, in pain and in pleasure, grasping her thumbs again, trapping her hands, and forcing her to arch even further, resting now on her shoulders and neck. Her ass supported by her hands trapped in his. He released her hip and threw her left leg over his shoulder, pushing in deep and hard and fast, shocking her, paining her, pleasuring her. She cried out again and again and tightened around his cock.

"No, slut! No cumming!" He said, punctuating each word with a deep hard thrust. She thought he was crazy for a second, but bore down hard anyway, doing her best to obey. Her eyes squeezed tightly closed, and she grimaced, clenching her teeth and growling from low in her throat.

"Now," he said, as he reached around her leg and grasped her clit tightly, "Now you can ask me if you can cum." Her eyes flew open and she stared at him incredulously. He stared right back, challenging her, daring her to ask his permission. She growled again, more loudly, and glared at him defiantly. She worked her torso muscles, and undulated on his thrusting cock, intent on finding her own release. He twisted her clit painfully between his thumb and side of his forefinger.

"I told you no, whore!" He raised his voice slightly, foreboding and forbidding as she howled and jumped in pain.

"Oww!! Stop! Okay! Okay! Please stop, please stop, I'll ask!" she cried, her breathing deep and fast, her voice approaching shrill. He released her clit and watched her face as the pain and the pleasure of the blood rushing back in wrote itself all over her pretty features.

"You think it will be that easy, slut?" He asked incredulously, laughing when she'd calmed a little. "I don't think so, whore. You can call me Sir when you ask this time, just for good measure, so you don't forget who's running things here. Do you understand that, slut?"

"Yes I understand!" She cried, still undulating, and reeling from the pain in her clit and cunt. Or from the pleasure; she wasn't sure which. But he knew what she hadn't admitted to herself yet; he knew it was both.

"I don't hear any begging, slut, you must not want to come," he said, and grabbed her clit and squeezed, ramming her cunt as hard as he could without pushing himself over the edge.

"I do! I do! Please!" She cried, amazed at the wave of wetness that crashed within her sex as he pinched her clit harder. "Sir!" she cried, "Sir!" She was amazed at how easily the title slipped from her mouth. She needed release; needed it badly enough that she reiterated, just to be sure. "Please, Sir, let me cum!" She clenched around him, ramming her cunt with his hard cock, squeezing her muscles, holding her breath; doing everything she could to fend of the orgasm she was so, so close to.

"Good slut. Cum, you whore." He demanded, and as soon as the words left his lips, she stopped all of her struggling, and let her body do its work. She clenched rhythmically around his hard shaft, her clit pulsed beneath his fingers, the muscles in the small of her back tightened and released, all the while a glorious wetness washed through her, from her head to her toes, it seemed, raging forth and carrying her to a dizzying height of awareness, it seemed, of her body, and the man who possessed it. Nothing else mattered, or even existed as she crested the first wave of her orgasm and began to feel her muscles relaxing minutely.

He released her clit and pounded her deep cunt harder. She howled in surprise and a fresh wave dragged her upward, again, her muscles tightening, toes curling, mouth working soundlessly until she reached her pinnacle and cried out from the depths of her self, tears escaping her eyes as her body trembled violently, every nerve alive with pleasure. Her breath caught in her throat over and over and she babbled incoherently between gulps of air as she tried to calm herself. But he wasn't done with her yet.

"This time," he grunted, punctuating his rhythm by slapping her tender ass, "You're going to thank me, whore." With that he unleashed himself and fucked her hard and deep, and with utter abandon, slapping her ass with his hand, and her perineum with his heavy, aching balls.

She groaned, feeling him tighten within her, spearing her hard and fast, and the walls of her cunt constricted around him. She felt as though she could feel every vein straining within his penis. The head of him pulsed and shudder within her, and she felt the current unleashed as he began to cum inside her. Her spasms were wild, and totally beyond her control. Her hips bucked against him as the mouth of her cervix clenched around his head convulsively. She sprayed him inside and out as she came, as he erupted within her, clutching her leg, continuing pounding, gliding smoothly and deeply on their combined wetness, grunting hard as he released, shoving, deepening the penetration of this woman who writhed and bucked and cried out triumphantly beneath him.

Finally, his load was spent within her and he collapsed, riding out her aftershocks, alternately pulled and pushed by the mouth of her cervix hammering down greedily, lapping up their cum. Exhausted, he collapsed onto his elbows over top of her and nudged her gently until she made room for him to get his wobbling knees up onto the bed, where they slowly caught their breath together.

"Ah, what a sweet and wonderful slut," he breathed heavily, contended; sated for the moment. He swiped the tears from her cheek and sweat from her brow gently with the side of his thumb, and darted his tongue to her lashes, catching the tears and then kissing her deeply, sharing with her gently. She breathed deeply and kept her eyes closed, unsure of what one says to a man whose both raped her and given her the best sex of her life all at once, fulfilling two fantasies in one short evening. She resolved not to think, and floated gently, in his strong arms as he pulled them onto their sides, slipping from her, spilling wetness that spread a huge damp pool beneath them. She sighed and drifted off to sleep without intending to.

She woke an hour later in a cold wet puddle, and covered with the afghan from the couch. A single tea candle floated languidly in a glass bowl half-full of water. In front of the bowl, she saw a note and jumped off her bed, wincing at the pain as she crossed the room.

"You have a birthday party to get to, darling little whore," It read. "And here are your spare keys and wallet which you left in my store on Tuesday night. My number is on the back of this page, and you are to call me when you're ready for more, which you will be within a few days. Take an Epsom salt bath before you go out to take out a bit of the swelling, if you like. This is the last time you will be allowed this luxury, so I'd suggest you do it now, before an evening of dancing, when you have been offered the first and last chance. Enjoy your evening, slut, and be sure to call me soon."

The note was unsigned, and though she knew now where she had seen him, she had no idea what his name was. The number on the back was no clue, so she set it back on the shelf with the candle, casting flickering light and shadows on her darkened bedroom walls.

She glanced at the clock and saw that she had only 45 minutes before she was supposed to meet her friends. She decided to take the Epsom salt bath, and stopped at the phone to call her friends to let them know she'd be a little bit late. She couldn't imagine dancing in her sore and swollen state, but she resolved not to miss the party. As she picked up the phone, she noticed that crisp grey dress shirt he'd been wearing when she first laid eyes upon him, from on her knees at his feet. Another note lay on the shirt.

"A keepsake for you, sweet slut," it said simply, followed by "You forgot to thank me, whore, and we still need to fill that ass of yours." This time a single uppercase character finished the note. She read....

"J