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Description: In a private mansion tucked in a section of Nevada desert where law enforcement never looks, a wealthy sadist is at play.

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Author Topic: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)  (Read 933 times)

Offline girlie00

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #90 on: January 07, 2020, 11:43:25 AM »
For a moment it seriously crosses my mind that maybe he's going to kill me. Maybe Alice is my replacement, he's grown tired of me and now he doesn't care if he takes it too far, determined to perforate my bowel... I don't even know if that's possible, I just know that I've never felt a pain this deep and intense during sex in all of my life!

I can't control myself, my hands push at the bowl, push at the table to try and get away but his weight keeps me crushed against it making it impossible. I can't even think straight, I know normally I'd be punished for trying such a thing but I can't help but to try and get out of this situation. 

My face is a mess of tears and snot, my sobbing turning hysterical "James please!... Yo-you're... killing... me!! Stooooop! Ah-ahhhh pleeeeease!" My schreeching hurts my throat but still I can't stop trying to scream out between my grunts and  gasps each time he thrusts hard enough to drive all the air from me.

He doesn't care, his thrusting only seems to get harder, driving his cock up into my guts. Oh god, I wonder if I'm bleeding?! It feels like I have to be!

I can hear him panting and moaning between my screams. He tells me that I hurt so well, his voice heavy and breathy with pleasure which only makes me cry harder and tense up even more only adding to the pain. I can't help it, I'm trying to relax but he's not letting me. Everything he does seems to force me to tighten up.

I dig my nails as hard as I can into the padding of the table, hoping to make myself feel a little better, a distraction, anything. It's no use the pain is too much, there's nothing in this world that could distract me from it.

His hand moves my hair to the side and I realize how sweaty I am when he leans over me to whisper in my ear. His breath hot against my skin makes me shudder when he asks if I want it to be over. "Yes! God, yes!!! Please finish! Cum in my ass James!" I scream out desperate for this to be over. "Please...P-please h-hu-hurt my ass... hu-hurt it really bad" I whimper, not wanting to actually say it. I can't imagine how it could even be possible for it to hurt any more!

 


Offline Corvid

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #91 on: January 07, 2020, 03:12:56 PM »
"Yes! God, yes!!! Please finish! Cum in my ass James! Please...P-please h-hu-hurt my ass... hu-hurt it really bad..."

Oh, I know. I know that Sophie says it because I commanded her. I know that she doesn't care whether I cum or not, so long as her torture comes to an end. I know she certainly doesn't want me to hurt her any worse than I already am; in fact, she's probably finding it hard to imagine that I could.

But I want it. I want her to ask, so that she can blame herself for it later. I want her to be a sobbing, hurting mess, and to know that I put her there.

And for a terrible, terrible part of her to be thankful that she pleased me, and to try, try so desperately, to be more pleasing in the future.

Reaching behind me, I grab her calves and lift her legs up so she no longer even has their scrabbling, erratic support; so even more pressure, even more weight, even more force goes into her tender guts.

An old joke goes incongruously through my head: "'Why are you hitting your head against the wall?' 'Because it feels so good when I stop.'"

Sophie said that I'm killing her. She'll feel that even more intensely for a few moments. She will know that I could... That I could ass-fuck her to death. What a dejected, miserable, debased way to pass from the world.

I won't. She feels that there's a madman, a ravening animal, on her back. But I know what she can take. She'll be feeling it, probably for days. But I'm not going to break her.

Not. Quite.

Measuring it out in thrusts. Slow out, hearing her whimper, puff breath, try to regain control, to loosen up, to relax, failing, knowing what's coming.

One.

The blunt force crushes her abdomen. Her flanks flex hard around my cock as I plunge in deep. Her body strains, I can hear her fingers clutching the table, feel her feet kick uselessly against the lock my hands have on her calves.

Out slow. Know it's coming. Know it, fear it, dread it, you sweet, hurting bitch.

Two.

Take her body from her. Make her know she is mastered. Give her pain. Pierce her ass. Show her what it is to fight, even involuntarily.

Out slow. Three.

Straighten the curve of her bowel. Feel her body shudder through the cramp, the piercing whine that turns into a grunt, the wracking cough. Feel her ass twitch against my pelvis as I make the straining channel take every inch of me.

Four.

Hit her where she's soft, where she's vulnerable. Let her feel how totally I overwhelm her. In this place, mercy is a precious thing, doled out in eyedroppers to the dying of thirst.

I feel the need, the hunger, the tightening inside of me begging for that final stretch to release all that anticipation. Surging in my body, rushing in my ears.

One more. Hard. Hurt for me, sweet Sophie.

Five.

My cock deep in her, pulsing, flexing, filling her bowels with my semen, each contraction one further tiny iota of pain in an ocean of mostly mental relief, relief that surely this must be over, surely he must be satisfied, surely he must be pleased.

I let her legs back down upon the table; reach under her, and pull out the bowl from beneath her, let it tumble to the floor with a muted cymbal crash and ring.

For a long moment, I lie on top of her, feel her shake, feel her cry, feel her body expand and contract as she tries to remember how to breathe.

Does my closeness bring her comfort, or just disgust? Probably some of both, loath as she might be to admit it.

I put my hands on the table on either side of her, almost slipping from the excess of oil as I put my weight on them, readjusting. I pull my cock free from her ass, watching my pearl jam seep from the afflicted pucker. There is a tiny trickle of blood; it could have been worse.

Taking a deep breath, I pull myself off of the table and onto my feet, take a warm towel from the bin, wrap it around Sophie's trembling body. I feel a tenderness towards her in this moment that's completely alien to the desire to devastate her that I felt only moments before. I know that Sophie is surely feeling the opposite, in the moment, however turbulent her feelings may be in the hours and days to come as she tries to make what has passed between us make sense, to make it a part of her.

"Shh, shh. It's all right. You've done well."

Offline girlie00

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #92 on: January 08, 2020, 02:31:00 AM »
I hate him, I hate him so much! It's really easy to get caught up in a pity party in moments like this. That's where my mind is slipping off to. I can't help but think of Alice. How she's probably warm and cozy in bed and I hate her for it! I did everything James wanted me to, why is he doing this to me?! He didn't hurt her, not like this. I don't care that she was a virgin or that it was her first time meeting James, it's not fair!

And all of these guards, fuck them too! What kind of monsters can stand around, hearing the sounds coming from this room and just look the other way?!

James pulling my legs back quickly snaps me out of my pity party and back here with him. Ohhhhhhhh no no no nooooo! My knees offered at least a little support and now there's nothing, my poor ribs feel like they're going to crack!

"James pleeeeease!" I whimper softly to him only to be met with a thrust so hard it makes my eyes nearly bulge out of my head. "Ahhhhhhhh! No no no please James, please!" My body thrashes in his grip, so desperate for the pain to end.

He pulls back out just as slow as when he first started fucking me, taking a dramatic pause for me to anticipate him again "wait! wait! James!.... I'll be good, I'll be better I sweaaaaaaaaaaaaar!" My words are inturrupted by him driving himself back inside my rectum.

By the third thrust all I can do is pant and squeal like a stuck pig. My hands slapping furiously against the table while my legs kick wildly, trying with all my strength to force James to let go of me.

The pain is too much, making me unable to think straight and for the first time in months I actually call for help. "Please, help me! Please... he's killing me!!! Heeeeeeeeeelp!!" I scream at the top of my lungs, my body trembling with the force, making my face beet red.

When I finally take a breath between my screams I can feel his cock start to throb and relief washes over me. This is the most pain he's ever caused me with just his cock and I'm just thankful that he's done and I'm still here.

The twitching of his cock finally stops and I collapse down to the table the second he tosses the bowl to the groumd. It's over, but I can't stop crying. I bury my face into my hands and sob hysterically, my body shaking with my gasps and whimpers between hitched breaths.

He lays on top of me and I just want him to leave. Get out and let me go to bed... Maybe stay there for a day or two. I'm not sure why I keep letting my guard down with him, thinking that maybe he's changing. He's nice for a little bit but then does something like this and has me terrified of him all over again.

The feeling of his cock pulling out both disgusts and fills me with relief. He's leaving... I'm finished, I can go! It's tempting to reach back and see if I'm bleeding as badly as I assume but I keep my hands in place, still cradling my face. I can check later, away from him!

I flinch, letting out a scared gasp when I feel his touch once more but to my surprise he just places a warmed towel over me and I'm so thankful for the small gesture. "Th-thank you" I whine, still sniffling and unable to stop my crying. I can't even bring myself to look at him when he shushes me like a small child who's just skinned her knee rather than the absolute torture I've just suffered. I try and force myself to calm down just so he'll leave!

Offline Corvid

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #93 on: January 09, 2020, 01:28:35 AM »
I'm watching the trembling going through Sophie's body as I get dressed. There are moments where her hips or lower back jerk abruptly, like a spasm, as though she can still feel me plowing through her ass, and I can't pretend I'm not pleased by them. That lingering sense of wrongness and invasion after a really brutal ass-fuck is part of the satisfaction.

I own you. Right up the ass, bitch.

Then there's the shivering in her knees and feet. That's more concerning. I've taken a lot out of Sophie, probably more than she realizes, and the last thing I want is for her to lose her balance, take a header into the table, and give herself a concussion.

And then... There's the tension in her neck and shoulders. Her hands are in front of her face, now, rather than gripping the table, but that tension is still clearly readable. It says anxiety and misery and anger, rightly enough, but it also might be on the edge of lashing out.

And if she does that, I'm going to have no choice but to re-establish discipline. I'd much rather that she accept what she's received; it will be better for her and her progress, not to mention her physical well-being. I'm sure she's aware of at least the latter part, but if she gets so overwrought that she attacks me anyway... I can't let that stand.

But... I have to check.

"Sophie? I need you to show me that you can get back to your room on your own. I'll take you there if you can't, but you need to show me if you can walk."

Offline girlie00

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #94 on: January 09, 2020, 06:56:06 PM »
I can hear James getting dressed. Good, hurry up and leave me alone! Even though I'm not looking at him, I can feel his eyes on me while he buttons up his shirt.

I'm so sore and I just want to crawl into bed and cry myself to sleep. I wonder if he's done any damage, I can still feel the stabbing pain every so often deep inside just the same as if he were still on top of me. Each time it happens I gasp and writhe against the table. God just hurry up, hurry up!!

My heart sinks when he says I have to show him I can walk myself to my room or be taken there by him. Why can't he just leave and let me go back on my own?! I don't want a thing to do with him and as if he cares about helping me back, he's just evil and part of me feels like he just wants to watch me only to further humiliate me.

The thought of being carried by him, or touched at all makes me sick and I start to carefully push myself up off of the slippery table. I feel like a newborn giraffe once on my feet and the heels certainly don't help but I don't want his help, or anything else from him!

Holding the towel tight against my body I walk towards the door, keeping my eyes down and not once looking at him "no. I'm fine." My voice is cold and far bitchier than I know it should be in order to avoid punishment.

I walk passed him especially quicky, wanting to avoid any contact at all. The faster I get away from him the better! The oil that's ran down onto the floor makes it hard to keep myself steady, nearly slipping on my way by him "I'm okay, I'm okay!" The jerky movement lighting up my abdomen in pain making me groan and wrap my arms around myself trying to ease the cramping.

When I don't feel him grab for me on my way out like I half expect I race down the long hallway and throw myself into my room. I want to slam the door in anger but I know better than to be that foolish. I quietly close the door and make a beeline for my bathroom so I can run the tub and cry without James hearing me on his walk by.

Offline Corvid

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #95 on: January 11, 2020, 02:17:16 AM »
The way Sophie walks, the way she speaks to me, the awkward way she tries to hold up the towel and hold on to her skirt underneath it... It's a woman struggling to keep it together. She's angry, and afraid of expressing that anger. She's retreating, and doesn't want it to be obvious that that's what she's doing. She's trying to display coordination and endurance, and failing. And she knows it.

It's marvelous. It's more submissive, in its way, than any sort of servile grovelling. The way her hands grip her own body as though it might fall apart. The tilt of her hips as she leans away from me, terrified that I might suddenly seize her again.

I hear her pace accelerating as she enters the hall, and I lean out of the doorway to the Relaxation Room to watch her go.

Yes, that's it, Sophie. Go on your way. Go, bearing my load in your ass. Buried in your belly like a lead slug.

Her door swings shut quickly; she catches it at the last moment to keep it from slamming, easing it closed. I quietly make a circuit past her room, where I can faintly hear the rush of water into the bathtub. I tell my watch I want the audio feed from Sophie's room of the next twenty minutes bounced off the server and back to the watch when it's done recording.

Walking back to my bedroom, I make notes for tomorrow.

The Relaxation room will need clean-up, of course. I'll have someone come by around three in the morning, making sure the ladies are locked in snug for the night.

Breakfast for Alice. Hmm. I'll have to find out how she takes her eggs; a cheese omelette is probably a safe bet for her first day as a new woman. Fresh fruit, mixed pastries, coffee, fruit juices... I wonder if I can coax her into the pool, show her the easier side of being mine.

Cream of wheat and tea for Alice; her stomach probably isn't going to want anything more strenuous. I'll let her sleep in for a while before I bring it to her room, late in the morning, and check on her. On a pretty silver tray with a fresh rose.

Yes. This was a good night. Everything is in its place.

I head up the stairs to my bathroom and take a long, hot shower, all the while re-living the experience of taking Alice's virginity, then the arc of Sophie's anal journey from pleasure to pain. Such different women, and yet each so pleasing in their own ways. They each fit me well, and yet not so well that I can't still have the pleasure of wearing them down into a more comfortable shape.

Slipping naked under the covers, I don a sleep mask with wireless headphones build into the band. I slip into sleep to the sound of Sophie's crying next to her tub, bringing me a pleasant arousal.



I knock briskly on Alice's door, tapping the watch to unlock it. I crack the door, peeking through.

"Breakfast is on the table, Alice. A new day dawns. No reason to face it hungry."

I pace back a few steps, leaning on the hallway wall opposite her door.

"You can have breakfast in your pajamas or a robe, if you want," I call, "But don't leave me waiting, here. No one likes cold, congealed eggs."

Actually, there are steamer trays under the things that need to stay warm, but I don't need to tell her that. And the sooner she gets used to the idea that this world doesn't come to a crashing halt so that she can play diva, the better.

Offline girlie00

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #96 on: January 11, 2020, 04:52:01 PM »
Being in the comfort of my room, alone instantly makes me feel better if only slightly. He's never come back in my room after dismissing me so I feel safe, one of the only places in his house I can say this about.

It still hurts to try and draw in a deep breath. I've never broken anything before, but now I'm wondering if he's cracked one of my ribs on that stupid bowl.

I just want to crawl into bed but I feel gross and want to wash him away. I may not have time to shower in the morning if he calls for me early... Maybe just a quick bath and then I can go to sleep and put this miserable day behind me!

Pushing the stopper down, I let the tub begin to fill up with warm water before I walk back to the counter to study my reflection while I wait for the bath to fill.

Oh my god... I look... just awful! The sight of my reflection quickly turns me into a weepy mess all over again. I have more mascara on my cheeks than I do my lashes now. My stomach looks so red and sore, there's no doubt I'll be badly bruised after what he's done to me. My eyes are red and puffy - they'll definitely be swollen in the morning if I don't stop crying soon before falling asleep!

I slide my skirt down from around my waist and turn to look at my ass in the mirror, fully expecting to see blood and relieved when I don't. A good sign, I assume if he did any real damage I would be in worse shape back there.

Easing myself slowly into the tub, wincing the lower I go. My insides screaming in pain from the effort but the rest of my body melting into the tub as the water wraps around me like a warm hug. It helps to settle me, my crying growing softer with more whimpering than actual tears.

Splashing some water on my face, a lazy attempt to wash away any left over makeup before quickly starting to wash myself, getting rid of the oil coating my body along with the mess left between my legs paying special attention to my ass. I don't want a trace of him left inside of me!

As soon as I'm satisfied I realize that a shower was probably the better option. I don't want to feel like I'm relaxing in a tub full of his cum. The thought actually makes my stomach churn, instantly releasing the water from the tub before slowly getting back to my feet to step out and dry myself off.

My bed here is nicer than my actual bed I had at home and something I look forward to at the end of every day. There's no need for one person  to have a king sized bed but for some reason James has let me stay in this room from the very beginning. Not something I'd ever complain about, but still so strange to me. He has someone change the sheets far more often than necessary but it always feels so luxurious slipping into at the end of a day. And today has been especially long, especially hard.

I'm too lazy to bother with pajamas, instead crawling right into bed under the covers naked. Usually I would sleep on my stomach but tonight I curl up into the fetal position instead, not wanting to add to my discomfort.

I want to close my eyes and fall asleep but my mind keeps going over everything that happened in the relaxation room. Remembering the way he started out, before placing the bowl under me makes me seething mad. My cheeks growing hot reliving the way he gave me pleasure just long enough for me to think he wasn't going to be his usual terrible self only to put me in more pain than I ever imagined possible from anal sex.

My pillow soaks up the tears just as quickly as they run down the side of my face. Cradling my stomach I eventually fall asleep thinking about how much I hate James and fantasizing about my unrealistic escape.

Offline ShySweetie

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #97 on: January 11, 2020, 06:51:43 PM »
I'm in the dark, screaming and sobbing. I can't see anything, but I can feel it. I feel James's hands all over me. I feel welts forming on my body.

No matter how much I try to pull or runaway, I can't escape. I can't escape his touch, his gaze, the pain.

The way his hands roam over every inch of my skin. How his nails dig into my flesh. His hot breath against my ear. That cold voice chilling me to the very bone. That searing, radiating pain his member causes in my nether regions.

How I can't be free from him. He's like a shadowy prison that I can't escape.

A knocking jolts me awake from my nightmare. My body trembles, my heart pounding in my chest from the terror. For a split second, I think the fear may subside now that I'm free from my bad dream. But much to my dismay, it isn't a voice I want to hear.

It's him..

Despite the fact that I'm terrified of James, I'm also irrate with him. Speaking as if nothing happened last night. As if I'll be obedient and not give a second thought to what he did. Like the traumatic things he did to me, were merely so insignificant that I should put it behind me.

My hand gingerly runs over a welt on my shoulder. As if I should forget this.

My other hand slowly reaches down, softly cupping my mound. As if I should cease to remember what he did here. Forget that he took the one thing from me that I can never get back.

...No.

You. Raped. Me. Whipped me and took my virginity. Scarred me for life! Oh, it's a new day and you're offering breakfast? Well golly gee fuck me, this makes everything better!

"Go away...!" I yell to him, trying to mask my fear with what little bravery the safety of the blanket provides me. "Go away and...and leave me alone!"

"Y-You're a sick fucking monster and...and...just go away and don't ever touch me again!"

I can't stifle the tears as I yell defiantly to him. My body shivers softly, scared of what his reaction may be. Hopefully, he won't want to deal with me today. Or if anything, he'll take it out on Sophie instead and just leave me alone.

I pull the comforter tighter around myself, almost forming a sort of blanket cocoon. The weight of the fabric surrounding me gives me a small sense of security, even if I may be bare underneath with my back to the door.

Yet, never the less, it still shields me from his frightening gaze. Shields me from his petrifying touch. Just the thought of feeling his hand on any part of my body is enough to give me goosebumps.

But the blanket will keep me safe from him. As long as I'm in here, in my own small world, I'm protected from him. As long as I stay here, he can't hurt me.
"I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of what's in it"


Offline Corvid

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #98 on: January 13, 2020, 12:38:05 AM »
A therapist once taught me a trick for dealing with anger, involving slowing the rate at which you exhale versus the rate that you inhale. It helps, sometimes, when my anger isn't the tool I immediately want to reach for. It also has the benefit, at least in situations where I'm the one holding the power, of letting others in the vicinity recognize that I'm controlling my anger.

But I have to say, I'm disappointed. I have some expectation that Sophie, given time and space, will recognize that she's being treated with discretion and restraint, and use that slack to come around to the right way of conducting herself. Alice...

Well, it's partly my fault. Alice isn't an escort, pre-conditioned to shaping her manner around pleasing men, and I've probably allowed myself to file some of the rougher moments in Sophie's early days and weeks in some of the dustier parts of my memory. Alice is tabula rasa, and less sophisticated, to boot. It's best to stick to simpler carrot-and-stick tactics, and not let up on the pressure.

It's a pity, though. It would be a nice day to lounge by the pool.

"That is not how this works, Alice."

My voice is calm, and even in tone, and quieter than Alice's yelling, though I'm certain she can hear me just fine. Because Alice is uttering hysterical fantasies, and I'm speaking unalterable truths.

"One of only two things are going to happen. One is that you come out here in the next five minutes and eat a very nice breakfast. The other is that I come in there... And if that happens, shortly afterwards, you are going to be crying far, far harder than you are right now. And then I'm going to lock your door again and see if pain and hunger can refine your behavior, seeing as how common sense seems to be a lost cause."

I allow that just a moment to sink in, and then I follow up.

"Do not allow yourself the delusion that that five minutes is some kind of flexible unreality, Alice. I am not your father, waiting to take the family to church. It is three hundred seconds- less now- and then you will face the consequences of being a churlish brat. And then you get to think about what you brought upon yourself, when you could have been eating lemon danish."

Checking the time on my watch, I begin doing a series of stretches. I hadn't really thought to begin the day with vigorous exercise and another round of rough sex, but the day brings what it will bring. And I'm definitely going to be ready if Alice doesn't come through that door in... Two hundred and eighteen seconds.

Offline ShySweetie

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #99 on: January 13, 2020, 11:26:24 PM »
His calm threat sends chills crawling over my skin. Angering him won't do anything. Of course it won't. But what choices do I have?

If I stay in here, and don't listen to him, I know he'll come in and hurt me again...or do something worse than last night.

Yet, if I obey and go with him, it'll feel like I'm somehow accepting the horrible things he committed. Already so easily broken down at his every whim, like porcelain doll. I can't bring myself to accept something as heinous as that.

I can feel my welts sting at the remembrance of his whip. My nether regions throb as I recall how he felt. The pain of being split open for the first time. The betrayal I felt from Sophie. The humiliation..

But again...what choices do I have? There's no windows for me to crawl out of, no closet to hide in. The bed has a small space under it, but too small for my chubby form to fit under. The only way out is the door...right where he is. I may as well be asking for it if I tried to run passed him.

As each second passes, my heart races faster, anxiety welling up inside. Stay and hide and face his wrath. Or obey him and accept what he did to me...

I can't keep a brave mask on any longer, no matter how much I want to.

In truth, I'm scared to death of him. The small tears slip from my eyes, staining the soft pillow beneath my head. Besides the trembling of my body, I can't seem to move. As if just his threat is enough to petrify me.

"P-please...please just go away..." I sob, hugging myself as I curl a bit tighter into the fetal position. "Don't do it again James...p-please don't! It hurt too much...just leave me alone.."

I can't go through that. Not again. I don't want to feel his hands on me. I don't want to have him so close, I can feel his breath on my skin. That pain of his penis tearing me open and filling me with that thick, disgusting stuff again.

I bury my face into the pillow, clinging onto it for dear life. As I sob at the memory of last night's violation, a question resurfaces from the depths of my mind. One that, under normal circumstances I'd feel guilty for, but at the moment, don't.

"Y-you've already got another here. So...so why can't you leave me alone instead? Why can't you just let me go...?!" I beg loud enough for him to hear. But my voice isn't angry or defiant as my earlier yelling from minutes ago. It's filled with fear, sorrow and a hint of ever so slightly submission.

With any shred of hope, he'll realize that and go focus his sadistic lust on her instead. Maybe even so much so, he'll get rid of me. Even if he were to drop me off in the desert, the idea of trying not to be mauled to death by a mountain lion seems for a much more pleasing evening than trying to keep him from touching me again. 
"I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of what's in it"


Offline Corvid

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #100 on: January 14, 2020, 02:48:43 PM »
I twist my waist, hips, and shoulders, limber up my hamstrings.

What is coming out of the Navajo room is a stream of pleas and excuses. What is not coming out of the room is Alice. I check my watch again as Alice suggests that I ought to be hurting Sophie instead, making a note of the timestamp. Sophie might be interested in hearing that at some point when she's hesitating to play with Alice.

There's a slight throbbing in my temple as the seconds slide away.

I'm tempted to rush into the room and beat Alice into submission. But doing that would suggest that Alice can control me, even if it's just by raising my temper beyond control with her bullshit.

So instead, I walk in and lock the door behind me, ignoring Alice as she cowers under the covers and tries to pretend that she can hide from me, hide from what's coming.

The top-right drawer of the dresser has bathrobes. Bathrobes have sashes. I extract one of the long lengths of cloth from its robe, replacing the robe in its drawer, and walk over to the bed where Alice shudders and squeaks.

I grab the edge of the blankets and yank them from the bed. They jerk and contort in Alice's grasp, snapping in her fingers, wicking between her knees, before I succeed in pulling them free from her body. She's nude beneath them, I discover to my pleasure; that will make what is to come easier. I can see the welts from yesterday's introduction to the dungeon, the bruises on her ass, and make note to revisit them.

Shoving Alice down on her front, I grab her arms and jerk them behind her, using the sash to tie them together at the forearms.

"Remember," I growl softly, "You brought this on yourself..."

Offline ShySweetie

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #101 on: January 14, 2020, 05:29:45 PM »
The door open and shuts. I hear his footsteps coming. My heart sinks down, yearning to stop and wilt away so I may avoid him. But it doesn't happen.

His steps pass the bed and I can hear him opening something. I've a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Whatever he's doing, I know it's not good. A small part of my mind wants to move the blanket down, so I can see him, see what he is planning.

But I can't move. I lay there, sobbing and petrified in fear. Anything can happen with him. Will he beat me? Strangle me? Rape me again? Leave me a bruised, bloody and sobbing mess? The possibilities are endless.

I nearly have a heart attack when the blanket is roughly yanked from me. Even though I held on tightly, the comforting fabric still slipped through my fingers, just like any hope I have of avoiding him.

For a moment it feels like time has stopped. I'm no longer protected. The fact that I'm now nude in front of him gives me a sickening feeling of vulnerability. Nobody has ever seen this much of me. And I curse that the only person who has...is him.

My cheeks flush in extreme embarassment. I want to just cover myself and hide my shame and humiliation. But before I can move my arms to try and shield my body from his gaze, he forces me down against the bed, pressing my front to the mattress. My arms are roughly pulled behind my back and I can feel fabric tightening around them.

It takes me a moment to register what happened. Once it hits me, my heart begins beating a thousand times a minute. In futility, I try to pull my arms free, but to no avail. If I didn't feel vulnerable and exposed before, I do now. Helpless, tied up and naked in front of this monster. This monster who swears that I did this to myself.

I did. It was my fault. It was my fault he's a sick and twisted man. It was my fault he violated me in that...that dungeon. Maybe I should've just accepted it and listened to him instead of hiding. It was my fault that I'm now trapped here with it. It really is...isn't it?

No. No I can't believe any of that. I won't believe it.

"James...James please stop!!" I cry out, my pleas just slightly muffled from my head pressed against the pillow. "Let me go, please please I...I'll listen!"

My body starts squirming beneath him, relentlessly trying to pull my arms free as I kick my legs, hoping to kick him. But I miss and it's as if the more I pull against my restraints, the tighter they become.

Feeling him so close to me terrifies me. It's like he's a demon, engulfing me in darkness. I'm trapped, scared, and I just want to get away from him.

But I can't let him see it. I don't want to give him the pleasure of how much he truly frightens. The nightmares he gave me. How my body reacts with chills at his meer voice.

As I continue crying, I try as much as I can to roll onto my back, hoping to break free from his clutches. I don't want to see him. But if I can see my surroundings, maybe I can see an opportunity to escape him.

"S-stop, please let me go! James, please don't hurt me again!!"
"I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of what's in it"


Offline Corvid

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #102 on: January 14, 2020, 07:58:41 PM »
Oh. Oh! She'll listen!

Despite myself, my breath chuffs out in a single harsh, barking laugh.

Sure. Now, she'll listen.

Someone who only listens when the consequences of failing to listen are upon them deserves what they get. I'm tempted to keep Alice on her stomach and introduce her to dry sodomy. But I don't want to dilute the pleasure I received from my taking of Sophie last night... And I want to reserve Alice's other virginity for when she, all but inevitably, really fucks up. This is merely obstinance.

Not that it means she's getting off easy.

Instead, when Alice tries to roll onto her back, I push her shoulder into the motion so that the roll continues, tumbling her off of the bed and onto the floor with an undignified grunt. Then, sliding off of the bed myself, I grab hold of the tie around her arms and haul her to her feet, shoving her forward into the wall.

She cries out as her momentum carries her into it, her balance and coordination all but shattered by the sudden surge of motion, the racing adrenalin, the denial of the use of her arms to balance or steady herself. Grabbing her by the hair, I press her face against the wall, certain she probably has a new bruise. She's lucky not to have broken her nose, though I doubt she feels lucky at the moment.

"You," I say, softly, dryly, "Are a stupid little cunt."

Pulling back my arm, I slap her hard on her bruised ass, hearing her squeal, feeling her wriggle.

"A stupid. Little. Cunt."

Slapping her ass with brutal, room-filling cracks with each blow.

"I am going to beat your ass until I'm certain that it's hurting enough that you'll really feel it when I rape you. And then I'm going to pound your little twat until you can't stand up. Because that is what a stupid little cunt gets, because that's what a stupid little cunt deserves."

Each time she squirms, wriggles, drops her hips, tries to kick me, I mash her face more firmly into the wall and smack her harder, yanking her up by the hair if she drops too far. This is the price of resistance: bad gets worse. I'm going to fuck her, and I'm going to hurt her, and it pleases me to do both. But it justifies itself when the woman behaves like this.

"Take it. Take it like the stupid little cunt that you are."

I'll wear her down if I have to. When she has no more to give... That's when I'll take from her what is mine.

Offline ShySweetie

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #103 on: January 14, 2020, 09:59:20 PM »
I shouldn't have said that.

Immediate regret coarses through my being as I feel him roll me off the bed, the back of my head smacking against the hard floor. Agony surges through the spot and it feels like someone whacked me with a small hammer.

But I'm not left much time to grobble over my pain before he lifts me and shoves me towards the wall. I try to turn my head away but I do so too late and end up slamming my face against it. Agony radiates through it. I don't think I've broken it, but I do taste the familiar metallic taste of blood. Its when I realize the wound on my lip from last night is split open again, the red liquid surfacing.

His hand snakes into my hair, pressing my sore face against the wall. All I can do is tremble and cry, tears falling down my reddened cheeks. Despite how much my head and face hurts, it's more painful when he calls me those names...

I'm not a novice when it comes to being picked on. I've been called things like stupid, fat, ugly, idiotic. I've been made fun of for many of my physical aspects. How I was fat and should go back to the ocean with the other whales. How my hair is ugly and stupid. How I'm a short stub who's weak. They hurt and cut deep into my emotional state.

Yet, somehow when he calls me a stupid, little, cunt...it cuts deeper. Deeper than all of the other times combined. It makes me feel truly stupid and humiliated. Like a piece of garbage.

It only makes it worse when I feel a seering smack on my rear, making me jump and cry out. It wouldn't have been as bad, had he not beaten and bruised my butt last night. But his blows continue, painting my rear with red handprints. I worry that some may end up bruising me more than I already am.

The spankings mixed with his words creative a venomous cocktail in my mind. He tells me this is what I get. This is what I deserve for being a stupid, little cunt. I don't want to believe him, but I can't help but think, that if I had gone with him, left the bedroom with no hesitation, that this would'nt have happened.

I feel stupid, idiotic. The self hatred that I've almost always had for myself begins to well up in my mind, mixing in together with his words and actions. It tells me that I am stupid. That I do deserve this. Even though part of me fights against it, not wanting to accept it.

Everytime I try to pull free, to resist against him, I'm met with his hand forcing my tender face harder against the wall. And another agonizing smack to my aching bottom. I want to keep fighting back. I want to get away from him. From his painful touch, his frightening gaze. But I'm trapped, with nowhere to break free to. Nowhere to get away. I feel too conflicted with myself.

I'm a stupid cunt..

SMACK!

I should've listened..

SMACK!

It's all my fault..

As I stand there, sobbing hysterically, my rear burning in stinging agony, I start to feed into his words little by little. The fear and his voice is like acid, breaking me down. I don't want to give into him. I want to keep fighting. Fighting for myself, fighting to get away. But he's proven how much stronger he is. How much more calculated and demented his mind is.

"P-Please stop!!" I beg, sobbing as tears stain my red cheeks, my body trembling. My screams of pain pierce the air and fill the room with each brutal smack. I don't resist when his hand lands on my burning, sensitive flesh. But I can't stop my self from jumping ever so slightly with each it, squealing and wiggling in his grasp. Not to get away, but to try and ease the pain.

"I-I'm sorry James I'm sorry!! Please...please no more it hurts! It hurts!!"
"I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of what's in it"


Offline Corvid

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Re: "The House Always Wins" (Corvid, girlie00, ShySweetie)
« Reply #104 on: January 15, 2020, 12:25:49 AM »
It hurts. It hurts.

Good.

I continue to slam my palm into Alice's backside, my hand itself starting to sting with the amount of force I'm exerting on Alice's rump. She can't be allowed to believe that she has any power, even the tiniest shred of influence or social pressure, to make me stop hitting her. Her pleas and begging have shrunk into blubbering when I decide she's ready for rape.

I dressed in running clothes today, in the expectation that I would get a workout in after breakfast. I hadn't really thought it would be this kind of workout, but this will do. This will do nicely. My cock is rock-hard as I draw it out of my running pants.

My hand departs from its grip in Alice's hair as I spread her ass to position the head of my cock against her pussy. I hear her gasp as she feels the new pressure, feel her make one last attempt to shake free, and I punch her in the back of the head. Alice goes still with a moan.

Plant against her entrance. One hand back against her head, the other with a vice-grip on her hip.

Push.

Fuck. She's so dry.

This will hurt her more than it hurts me.

Fine. Pull back, and push-

Push-

I hear her scream as my manhood forces its way inside of her, mashing through her nether lips, scraping through her tunnel.

Pull my hips back. Now, drive it.

Drive it.

Bore through that almost-virgin pussy, still aching from yesterday. Bore through until my hips are flush with her swollen buttocks, heated and blushing, mottled with bruise from the beatings.

Now... pull my pelvis back slow... and...

Pound it.

That's the way.

Alice sounds like she's swallowed her tongue as I smash against her backside. As my stiff cock forces her aching-tight pussy apart.

Show her how much I can hurt her. How easily. How powerless she is to prevent it.

Pound against her ass. Stab into her cunt.

"It hurts?" I sneer. "It hurts?"

Give it to her. Yes. Yes.

"That's what stupid little cunts are for. Stupid little cunts were made to be hurt. That is all a stupid little cunt is good for. Everything... Prior... Was leading... To being used... Like a stupid... Little... CUNT...!"

I shove her head down the wall as she wails, bowing her more sharply in front of me, pushing her chest farther away from the wall so her heavy breasts swing and bounce as I rut inside of her. Reaching forward with the other hand, I grab her breast and squeeze the pliant flesh in a crushing grip as I continue to fuck her.

"Such nice big tits you have, Alice."

My hand wrings the swinging orb, working towards her nipple, twisting and pinching and pulling the tender nub into swollen, aching stiffness.

"They might be a source of pride and pleasure, if you weren't such a stupid little cunt."

Drawing my hand back, I slap the dangling swell into her chest with a satisfying whack.

"So these tits... These big, soft, sensitive tits... Are made to be hurt."

I'm only going to focus on one breast, now, though. The same place on her breast, across swell and nipple, over and over, slamming my hand into it like I did her ass. Only her ass is less sensitive. It has strong bones supporting it. It was made to take punishment.

Her breast? Oh, her breast. So soft. So vulnerable. So yielding.

Hit it. Hit her. Beat on that nice, big, soft tit while I fuck, fuck, fuck her, bowed before me.

"If only you could be good for something other than hurting, Alice. If only you could learn not to be a stupid little cunt. You wouldn't get hurt so often. So badly. Too bad. Oh, too, too bad."

Take it from behind, little Alice.

Take it.

 

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