Slave to Desire

It wasn't long before he wanted her pussy. He flipped her over, drilled into her pussy, and slapped her big tits while he fucked her. This was about all he could handle and soon he pulled out, ordered her down onto the ground, and sprayed her face with cum. She smiled as it rained down on her, knowing that he had always wanted to do this and now he was getting his chance.

Cam was hungry after spraying her. He went to go make himself a sandwich, which gave Becca a chance to clean herself up, redo her makeup, and select one of the outfits to fulfill fantasies. She chose the schoolgirl one, then presented herself in the kitchen.

"Woah," Cam said, sandwich in-hand.

"I'm glad you like it," Becca smiled seductively. She walked across the kitchen slow, letting the tiny pleated skirt show off her long legs. "Now, if I remember correctly, I've been a very bad girl and I need taught a very important lesson." She was sure that she had remembered correctly. She had memorized each fantasy he had texted her.

"Yeah, but I need a minute," Cam said with a laugh.

Becca arrived at Cam's place in the kitchen and let her hands explore. They flicked at his beltline, knowing that with a little coercion she would have something to suck on again.

"Are you sure?" Becca said. "Maybe I could just entertain you a little bit while you get back your energy."

Cam looked at her face, then at her very full tits popping out of a tiny button-up shirt, and shrugged. "Get to it, bitch."

Becca dropped to her knees, unbuckled him, and began to suck. She thought that with a little more practice, she could be getting really good at this. He quickly grew hard again. Becca realized that she was being recorded again, but didn't mind so much this time. That was obviously a fantasy of his, so she was only happy to submit to video. Hell, she wished he had recorded the cumshot from earlier, too. If he wanted to show his friends how he used his fucktoy, she wanted him to have everything he needed to do it.

He finished his sandwich, let her suck him back to full mast again, and then put her on the island in the middle of the kitchen. He stayed with her mouth, leaning her head off the counter and drilling into her throat. He filled his greedy hands with her tits while he fucked her pretty face.

Only then, with his dick blocking air, his hands taking what he wanted from her body, and dressed up in this ridiculous outfit, did Becca realize that not once had she touched her own clit. She had forced herself to fantasize about rubbing herself off while blowing him, but when push had come to suck she had never actually considered doing it. Fucked in all three holes, she had never once thought about getting her own orgasm. Meanwhile, he was on his way to three.

Just as quickly as she realized that, she knew the answer why. Toys didn't get orgasms. She wasn't a girlfriend or even a fling. She was Cam's living fuckdoll. She was aware that she should be shocked by that thought. She should hate him--although admittedly, she did still hate him from before, even as she wanted to fulfill his every fantasy and be his plaything. But all she wanted was to be that toy for him. She knew that he probably made her this way and made her want what she wanted, but that didn't really matter. That just made her more of a fucktoy for him.

He pulled his dick out of her mouth and then laid it down between her tits. Becca, catching the cue, pushed them together around his cock, which was still went with her spit. He began to fuck her tits, her head still at an odd angle and tucked out of view.

Becca, suddenly having free use of her mouth, began to talk. She spoke honestly and from the heart. "I... I love being your fucktoy. I love being your plaything. The fuckdoll that you try out your fantasies on. I've never wanted anything more in my whole life. Oh my god, this is all I ever want."

Eventually, he turned her around, plowed into her pussy, and wrapped his hands around her throat while he fucked her. They were in that position when he came. Becca didn't think there could be much cum left, but she was still confident that this particular fantasy had been fulfilled.

She sat back on the counter, letting his eyes devour her, and smiled.

"Now," she purred, "which fantasy should we try next?"

---

Cam fucked her most of the day and most of the next one as well. Every time he came, she went and perfected her makeup, changed into a different outfit, and came back to beg him to fuck her again. He got better at resisting her as he got more tired, but that just made Becca get better at convincing him to go another round.

She lost count of positions, orgasms, slaps, and outfits. She was aware that there was the entire world of sexual fantasy to give Cam and she wanted to give him as much of it as she could. Her body ached, each of her holes were sore, and she felt like she could sleep for a whole day, but she pushed herself onward, wanting nothing more than to blow his mind further.

It occurred to her that she had missed class and work, but that didn't matter either. She was fulfilling her greatest desire of being Cam's fuckdoll. Everything else could wait.

Finally, after two days of sordid sex, as Becca returned to Cam in a fresh outfit with intention to seduce, Cam lifted a hand to stop her.

"Hold on, I need a break," Cam said, collapsing onto his couch.

"Great," Becca said. "I have a great idea of how to relax you..." She was confident that she could have a full mouth within 60 seconds.

"No, I have an idea," Cam said. "Go get cuffs. And some rope."

Becca's heart leapt, thinking about the fantasies. They had played with some bondage, but if this was the fantasy he wanted most then she was eager to fulfill. She hurried up to the bags of "fun things" she had brought and returned with the requested items.

Cam turned her around, handcuffing her hands behind her back. Then, he took the rope and tied her elbows together, forcing her arms further behind her back. Her tits popped up with the action. Then, he wrapped the same rope around her neck, lifting her arms further and pulling her head backward. She was forced to lift her head up, hoist her arms up behind her back, and thrust out her tits. It was terribly uncomfortable, but she was thrilled with how much of a fuckdoll she must look like. She could just imagine him drilling into her throat like this. Becca hoped that's what he had in mind. She turned around to face him.

Cam lifted up a device to Becca. Just as Becca recognized it, he sprayed and the aroma hit her hard. Things faded away and she heard his voice: "You want to be sexually dominated. Devastated. Broken. Ruined. By me. You want this more than anything else in the world."

The aroma faded and shame, horror and revulsion set in. In a moment, Becca relived the sick, fucked up shit she had done for Cam. Even now, she was a monument of degradation, bound for his pleasure. The costumes, the degrading sex, the cumshots, the literally begging for more... oh god! He had recorded her! She now lived on his phone as a pornstar.

"Ohhhhh," Becca moaned. "Oh god... oh what have I done?" She tugged at the rope and the cuffs, but they held firm.

"Well, a lot," Cam said. "I can give you a play-by-play if you want."

"Shut up!" Becca hissed. "You... you... you pig!"

"Hey! Don't blame me! I would have fucked you less, but you kept coming to me in new sexy things and basically forcing my dick in your throat. Can I really be expected..."

"Shut up!" Becca screamed. "I hate you!"

"Yeah, I know," Cam shrugged. "We'll see how long that lasts." He stood up, looked her up and down, and smiled. "Something tells me that you'll be begging for fresh, new kinky shit in a day or two."

Becca felt the horror set in. He was right. She had made it a week the first time, but she had been fantasizing about sucking his cock after only a day or two. The only reason she hadn't done it earlier was because she didn't know how to contact him. The next time, she had been begging to be a filthy fuckdoll within three days. What made her think this time would be any different? Wouldn't she be back here again be the weekend? She shuttered, thinking about spending the whole weekend again. She tugged again at the cuffs and rope, but they held firm. She was at his mercy.

"Why... why don't you just... make me like you?" she said softly.

"What would you say I've been doing?" Cam said.

"You've been making me want to please you, but... I still hated you. I still was revolted by you. This would all be so much better if... if I liked you. Even a little."

"But you don't like me," Cam said. "You've hated me ever since I started coming in the restaurant."

"Yes, but you can make me want to like you," Becca insisted.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Cam said. Before Becca answered, Cam continued. "I don't like you either. In fact, I hate you. I hate you so fucking much."

"Wh... what?"

"From the moment I saw you, I wanted you. I wanted you to... well... to do all sorts of shit that you've been doing. Those perky tits, those lips, that ass... that whole perky little fuckdoll body. I never wanted anyone half as much as I wanted you. And then you turned out to be a bitch. I wanted you so fucking much and you treated me like trash. So yes, I hate you. I hated how much I wanted you. I hated that I couldn't stop myself from coming to see you every week. I hated how I couldn't stop looking at you, fantasizing about you, and jacking off to you. You think this week had been bad for you? You've been living for a week in my life.

"So no. I'm not going to make you like me. Because I don't want this to be easy on you. I want you to enthusiastically degrade yourself for someone that you don't like. I want to make you my property. I want to make you readily agree to it, despite despising me. I want you to live in the twisted paradox that I've lived in--simultaneously hating someone and being a slave to desire for them."

Becca thought again about her current position. She was wearing a skimpy, lacey outfit. She was tied and cuffed in a position that amplified her tits for him. She felt the instinct to try to cover herself so Cam couldn't see, but that was impossible. Even if it was, she knew that it was comically far past that point where that would do any good.

"What... what did you make me want this time?" Becca asked.

"I don't want to spoil the surprise," Cam said with a sadistic smile. "But this time, you're going to have to earn it. I've just fucked you every which way. I've had more sex--and dirtier sex--in the last two days than I've had my whole life. I can wait a little while. But you're going to want it. So when your desire overcomes you and you can't hold out anymore, I want you to try to earn the right to fulfill your desires. Convince me. Because you're going to want it more than I do."

Becca felt tears swelling in her eyes. She barely was able to spit out the words, "I hate you."

"Right back at you bitch," Cam said with a grin. "But at least I have a way of working off my hatred. Now go. Get out of here." He untied her.

She left the costumes. She grabbed her coat, her keys, and her phone. She hadn't so much as touched them in two days. Then, she left.

---

On Thursday--three days after leaving Cam's house and a week after she was first allowed the privilege of sucking his cock--Becca parked her car in the driveway. She checked her phone again, desperate to see some text back from Cam. She had sent him upwards of twenty videos and dozens more photos--all of them unashamedly desperate and very few featuring any clothing at all. He hadn't responded to any of them.

She opened the car door and stepped out into the sun. Aside from the ink on her body, she wore nothing. She was ashamed, but that only fed her own pleasure. She resisted the urge to masturbate again.

Becca walked up to the front door, knelt down, and reached over to ring the doorbell. Then, she began to beg, even before there was any hint of life inside the house.

"Please... please fuck my filthy little holes. My whore mouth. My good-for-nothing pussy. My needy little asshole. Please. Hurt me. Slap me. Choke me. Show me I'm your bitch. Show me I'm worthless for anything other than fucking. Oh god show me."

The door opened. Becca didn't stop begging. Cam looked down at her. He admired the sharpy marker that she had marked her body with. She had labeled and marked her various parts. Above her pussy was written, "Cam's cum dump" with an arrow pointed downward. On her neck was written, "Cam's cock holster". She had done a rather impressive twist to give herself a tramp-stamp label of "Punishment zone" above her ass. On the parts of her body that he couldn't stuff, she had merely written "SLUT" and "WHORE" and "BITCH". Finally, across her tits, in thick bold lettering, Becca had written "Cam's Fuckdoll".

Cam merely watched her beg on his front step. After a moment, he pulled out his phone and recorded. Becca didn't mind. The greater the disgrace, the better. She just continued to beg for punishment, for disgrace, for pain, and to be used. She never worried about running out of material. She just poured out the desires of her heart. They provided a never-ending source of language.

Cam leaned over and spit. It landed on her face.

"Thank you sir, more please!" she interjected, then continued to beg. She reached up with one finger, grabbed the spit, and then moved the finger down to her clit. She pressed it against herself once and came almost immediately. As her body jerked in pleasure, she continued to beg for greater and greater disgrace. She begged to be choked with his hands and cock all at once. She begged to be slapped on the ass, on the tits, and on the face until her whole body was red and aching. She begged to be defiled "in such a way that no man would ever want me ever again."

Finally, Cam shrugged and said, "Fine. Come on inside."

"Oh thank you sir," Becca gushed. She dared not rise from her knees. She crawled inside. As Cam closed the door behind her, Becca thought she could simply die from excitement. She had never wanted anything else as much as this. She wanted it to be filfthy, depraved, and even disgusting. She wanted it to hurt. She wanted to be made into nothing but a dirty fuckdoll for the man she hated.

She wanted it more than anything else in the world.