He crouched behind her. She felt his finger invade her, then the nudge of his fat cockhead, mercifully gooey with lube.
“Ask me to do it to you,” he ordered.
Her voice trembling slightly, she made herself say, “Please Sir. Please fuck me in the ass.” She slowed her breathing in a conscious effort to relax and accept the cock that was going to take her one way or the other.
He pushed lightly between her cheeks. “Beg me.”
“Please, Sir,” she repeated, trying to put more fervor into it. Her voice came out raspy and she cleared her throat. “Please, Mark, fuck me in the ass.”
“Do you want it, cunt?”
No.
“Yes. Yes, please, Sir. I want it.”
He laughed with delight. “Then you shall have it.” He pressed harder against her asshole, pushing past the tight ring of muscle. A small, sharp burst of pain radiated through her anus, and Alana tensed, crying out.
“Relax,” he commanded, pushing harder. He slapped her hands away. Hard fingers gripped her hips as he guided himself into her.
“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” she moaned, jerked reflexively forward.
His fingers dug into her hips as he continued to push himself deeper inside her. “Only because you aren’t giving yourself fully to me. You’re resisting. You begged me for this, slave girl. Now take what I give you.”
Alana was panting, but the pain, she was forced to acknowledge, had eased somewhat, replaced by a sense of fullness that was uncomfortable, but manageable.
“That’s right,” Mark soothed, reaching forward to stroke her hair back from her face. “Much better. I’m almost all the way in now, and it feels fucking amazing. You’re so tight, so perfect.” He thrust forward again, harder than before, and Alana grunted with the force of it.
Then, to her surprise, he reached around her body with one hand and began to fondle her pussy with lubricated fingers. Alana focused on the pleasure, gathering it up and holding it close as he began to fuck her hard from behind.
As he teased her, the fullness inside her ass eased into something almost pleasurable, and his fingers moving expertly over her pussy were bringing her rapidly to a climax. As her anal muscles fully relaxed, his huge cock actually felt good moving inside her. His hand at her sex felt better than good.
“Please, Sir,” she gasped. “May I come?”
“You may, cunt.” He continued his finger dance on her pussy. His hand fell away as he groaned, low and feral. He slammed into her with ferocious force. He shuddered in a series of small, powerful spasms. He fell heavily against her, his weight causing her to collapse beneath him, his cock still buried deep in her ass.
The anal virgin was a virgin no more.
Chapter 7
The mysterious disappearance of Alana Hunter was still occasionally in the news. The police still claimed to be exploring “promising leads.”
For all intents and purposes, she no longer existed for the outside world. But she was everything to Mark, and he gave her everything she needed.
He was very pleased with her progress. She was a perfect slut when it came to giving head, and she had learned to take a whipping with real grace. She never asked anymore when he would let her go. She no longer begged to be set free. She dropped obediently to the floor when he touched her shoulder. She knew never to sit on the furniture. She rarely expressed any discomfort, even when he left her tightly bound for long periods of time.
Lately, when he left the house to run errands, he enjoyed tying her to a low stool, just inside the front door with her back facing the door. She would drape herself on her stomach over the stool, legs spread wide, so when he opened the door, the first thing he saw was that gorgeous ass and spread pussy.
Sometimes before he left, he would stick a dildo in her cunt, or an anal plug in her ass. Sometimes both. He would warn her they had better be in place when he returned or she would suffer the consequences. She usually managed to keep them in, but one afternoon when Mark returned, his arms full of groceries, he saw that the dildo had slipped out of her cunt onto the floor. Alana, being tied tightly by her wrists and ankles to the stool, had been powerless to retrieve it.
“Oh dear,” he said, setting down his bags and coming to stand behind her. “My naughty slut pushed out the dildo. What happens to naughty sluts who disobey?”
“They get punished, Sir,” she said in a small voice.
“That’s right,” he agreed pleasantly. “Shall I cane you? Or do you want to be flogged?”
Still bound to the stool, Alana whispered, “The flogger, please, Sir.”
“Hmm.” He pretended to ponder, having known she would go for the less painful option. “I don’t think so. Your welts from the other day are fading. I want to see some fresh stripes on that luscious ass.”