The Perfect Man
Part 1
The Perfect Man
Provided by: BDSM Library
Synopsis: A day in the life of female submissive masochist.
The following story is COPYRIGHTED . The author, CRUDEDUDE , reserves all rights to this work. It may be freely distributed online, posted and archived electronically, only in its entirety, including all header material. It may not be changed or altered without the authors permission. It may not be sold in whole or in any part, or as part of an electronic document, printed material, voice recording or any other manner without proper copyright clearances being obtained from the author.
Most of you who liked my first story “Pursuit of Misery” should like this one. Thanks to all those that wrote me personally or wrote reviews. They are appreciated. Those of you that wrote ONLY to criticize my proofreading or lack thereof, even after my intro warning, are wasting the planets oxygen. However for those that can't masturbate to anything but perfect grammar you'll be happy to know this one's a little better in that regard. I am working on a third story and although I've met some fine subs, I'm still searching for the sub fem for the long term, so don't be shy girls.
The Perfect Man
Lovemaking
With his right hand he gripped her long red hair nearly pulling it from her scalp. His left hand groped her left ass cheek and he crudely dug his dirty nails into her already bruised and sore ass. He slammed his large cock repeatedly into her sore dry ass, with hard deliberate strokes, making sure she felt pain in each thrust, Working at a frenzied pace he continued to drill her, slowing only as he apparently tired then speeding up again. She felt his sweat and drool drip onto her ass and back as he drilled her. She listened intently to the barrage of insults he was muttering at her. fucking whore, worthless slut, goddamn cunt, some muttered others spoken louder. She listened intently trying to hear above his heavy breathing and the loud slapping noise made each time he slammed into her battered ass. She listened carefully in case he required something of her. If he muttered for her to do something, she best damn well hear and do it immediately. Whether that be to assume a new position, hurt her tits, massage his balls, lick his ass, or hold completely still, she had better fucking do it the second he said it. Not hearing and immediately complying with one of his whims earned her brutally savage beatings. She was not going to cum. She received no pleasure form this tortuous fucking. Even if she did, she still would not cum, cause he didn't want her too. She was never to cum. She was not to feel pleasure at all, only pain. She would not masturbate, not touch or caress her self in anyway that mind bring her the slightest pleasure. She was his pain whore, his fucktoy, his fuckholes, his bitch, his slave his cunt, and his punching bag. What she was not was his wife, his girlfriend, his lover, or even his friend. “God I fucking hate you” he yelled, as gave some extra hard stabs into her already bleeding bowels Her hair was being pulled from her scalp, while his nails dug into her flesh of her bruised and welted ass. She concentrated on her pain. She was always to maximize her pain while simultaneously obsessing herself with his pleasure. She was to constantly be thinking 24/7 of how she could best serve and please him. Right now she was to remain completely still as he pummeled her ass. The tired and sore muscles of her arms and thighs strained in unison, to keep her body as still as possible as rammed her. He was a completely unreasonable man. If she moved a few inches forward she would be moving away, if she moved a few back she would be fucking back, and both were forbidden, cause he had ordered her not to move. this became increasingly difficult over the course of the 20 minute ass pounding . Her fatigued limbs were clenched the whole time, trying desperately to obey his command. She felt the pain of the numerous cuts, bruises and welts that adorned her back as she kept is perpetually arched for him. Lack of concentration for a second could cause her to be knocked forward or pulled back, either of which would earn her a savage beating.
Suddenly he stopped, buried completely in her ass he muttered “fuck yourself bitch”. “Yes Sir.” Immediately she pulled forward increasing the pain to her scalp, and lunged back with all her might. As he rested, She must now fuck her ass on his prick as hard and fast as he would do her, and she mustn't stop or slow in the slightest. Each thrust should be hard and she should bury his prick in her ass to the hilt on each one. Again a dedicate balance, she must fuck her ass as hard and fast as possible, but make sure his giant ass splitting cock is buried to the hilt with every thrust. God help her is she tired and slowed or failed to impale herself fully on any given stroke. He tightened the grip on her hair to make it harder. She was literally pulling the hair from her head to in order to generate the necessary speed and thrust. With his free hand he fumbled her bruised and swollen labia until he found her clit. He dug his sharp nails into it twisting and pulling on it as if it would come off. She gave her loudest sigh of the fucking, but said nothing and never stopped impaling her ass. He continued to maul her clit, pulling it out and away form her body while pinching and twisting the tortured nub. She new better then to say anything. She new better then to cry out, cry or scream. She wasn't permitted to make anything above a sigh unless he permitted it.
Having got his wind back he began insulting her louder. “You love this don't you whore?” “Yes Sir, I love this.” “You love me don't you, you stupid cunt?” “Yes Sir I love you more then anything.” “You'll do anything for me wont you bitch?” “Yes Sir I will do absolutely anything for you.” She must answer each question immediately, loudly and correctly. Not easy to do when you're in agonizing pain, winded and fatigued. “You know I hate you don't you cunt?” “Yes Sir I know you hate me.” “Just the site of your ugly ass makes me want to vomit”. “Yes Sir the sight of my ass makes you vomit.” “What the fuck did you say whore?” He yanked her head back lifting her front arms of the bed and startling her. There was a brief pause, but she quickly began fucking her ass again now only on two knees. “I said the sight of your UGLY ass makes me want to vomit”. “Yes Sir I 'm very sorry Sir, the sight of my UGLY ass makes you want to vomit.” “Goddamn your fucking stupid”. “Yes Sir I'm fucking stupid.” “Suck me you worthless tramp.” “Yes Sir.”
He did not move but remained on his knees buried to the hilt with her head pulled all the way back. She pulled forward yanking her hair and just clearing his big cock form her ass then spun around twisting her hair in his hand as he had not let it go, Her hands went immediately clasped behind the small of her back as she opened her mouth wide and leaned her long torso over. Supporting herself only by her knees and hair she engulfed his cock down to the hilt. The familiar tastes and smells of blood, dirt, shit, cum, sweat and piss, filled her throat and mouth. His hand clamped behind her head trapping her there. He could feel the efforts of her tongue and throat caressing his cock as he held her there for a couple of minutes. Finally grabbing both sides of her head he began to brutally throat fuck her, cursing her as he did so. A short time later he finally blew his spunk into her throat. She was not to gag or cough unless he told her too. Out of breath with a throat full of cum, she waited for him to withdraw his womanizing tool from her mouth. Doing so he yanked her up by the hair and spat in her face part of which went in her eye, which she dutifully kept open. “God you don't know how much I fucking despise you cunt.” And with that he punched her face knocking her to the ground. Walking past her he kicked her tits, “get back to fucking work you lazy bitch”. “Yes Sir.”
Starting Chores
Actually she did have a pretty good idea how much he despised her, if for no other the reason then how frequently he told her. But there were more tangible clues as well. The way he constantly scowled, glared and leered at her told her how low she must be to him. The only smile or laughs she ever saw from him were always in response to her pain and suffering. He had never uttered a kind word to her, or given her a soft caress. There was no love in his eyes, only hate. He showed her no mercy in his use and abuse of her. Bur she didn't have time to reflect on her misery, he had ordered her to get back to work. She quickly reminded herself that she had wanted all this, and didn't deserve anything better. Other then fear or pain that was always the quickest way for her to motivate herself. “Get your worthless piss drinking ass up and slave for your master” she silently yelled at herself. Her self hatred came close to the level of contempt he had for her. As quickly as she could, she raised her fatigues ans malnourished body to all fours. Her face was covered in dried piss and cum from earlier that day. Dried blood too, but there was fresh trails dripping down her chin from her split lips thanks to his punch. She quickly scanned the floor for any blood drops and immediately licked up the few splattered spots she saw. Since her cunt face was still leaking she would have to be vigilant and make sure that she licked up every drop as they fell. She also had to be weary of any fluids, blood or otherwise that fell from her ass or cunt. All must be licked up immediately. It was difficult to see the floor with a glob of spit virtually blinding one eye. The fact that she was fatigued, malnourished and still dizzy form his bunch didn't help either. Move it cunt she told her self and she finally crawled to the center of the room. Sure enough he had tracked in a trail of mud on his boots.
To say that she had a lot of work to do was a gross understatement. But this had to be cleaned first. He was relentless about her keeping his house utterly spotless for him. She tongues the floor as fast and hard as she could. Mud was hard to lick up and dried quickly which mad it even harder. She had lost count fo the number of times he had beaten her for finding mud trails. They were always from him, but he expected her to clean up his messes as soon as he made them. Delay would cost her dearly. She licked her way to the bedroom door and down the hall. The mud was thicker here and began to smell worse. Damn, he stepped in dog shit again. Probably on purpose. If at all possible she licked even faster. She had to get the shit up quickly or it might leave an odor. Even as the floor looked clean she continued licking the spot to try and remove any odor he might find unpleasant. As she progressed down the hallway licking up th remaining mud and shit, she caught glimpses of him sitting in his chair watching his tv. She didn't stare at him directly as that was forbidden. She mustn't touch or look at him unless he required it. As she grew closer to his chair she could begin to smell the aromas of food.
He was feasting on leftovers from one of her excellently prepared meals. She probably cooked more a day then many restaurant chefs. It was ironic she was starving, especially with all the food that was wasted in his house. The mice ate better then she did. She was required to cook him three fulls meals a day, breakfast lunch and dinner. Three full meals at each setting, in other words three breakfast meals, three lunch meals and three dinner meals. And the meals had better be perfect. Nothing could be over or under done. The meals must be warm, but not too hot. Even if everything was done right she better hope she made a meal that he felt like eating at that particular time. If not a verbal beratement ensued usually accompanied with a beating. Then she was usually required to cook whatever he had a taste for at the moment. He often required in between meals or snacks as well. It was very important that she listen closely to all his demands. Make me a snack bitch, meant she had to actually cook or make food for him. get me a snack bitch, usually only meant to bring him some leftovers. Usually. Leftovers were only from that given day and were discarded every night. Sometimes he sampled form the meals she made, but usually only ate one, and very seldom did he finish all of which she made. So there were a lot of leftovers thrown away each night, especially since she wasn't allowed to eat any of it. When she backed him cookies, she never licked the spoon or snuck a chocolate chip. All of the cooking she did was to be solely for him, and she never ate anything from the meals she cooked for him, or even form any of the food she used to cook with. It can be difficult to get a meal tasting right when you can never sample it, and in some cases have no idea how it tastes period. It took several tries at lasagna to get it jut the way he liked.
His tastes were very particular and it was her duty to learn to please all of them. As she crawled torwards his chair, she noticed he was actually eating takeout, not some of her leftovers. He probably would even eat from any of tonight's dinner meals then, but she was still required to cook them. She licked around his feet and then began washing his boots with her tongue, top and bottom. Her goal to remove any trace of mud and shit form them. He made no attempt to better position his fee for her, so she had to arch and strain her neck around his boots to do a good job. He didn't utter a word to her, but stared intently at the tv while he chowed down on whatever he was eating. A pile of crumbs has formed o the side of the chair which she dutifully licked up. Any food bigger then a crumb, she was forbidden to eat and must pick up by hand and throw it away. When she was satisfied his boots were clean, she dried them with her hair and crawled off, careful not to get in the way of his tv.
Cooking Dinners
She crawled int to the kitchen to start preparing his dinner meals. For the first time in a few hours she rose up on her sore and wobbly legs. she was only permitted to stand in the house when it was a necessity for her household duties. otherwise anything that could be done on hands and knees must be. She rose all the way to her tiptoes and was very careful not let her heels touch the floor. Whenever allowed on two legs she must either be barefoot or in six inch spike heels. When barefoot, she was strictly forbidden from letting her heels touch the ground, and this must tiptoe around. She tiptoed over to the sink and squatted down to the cabinet. taking out a large roll of heavy clear tape. She applied an ample amount to her heels, the sides of her feet and down to just above the balls of her feet on which she was to remain perched the entire time she stood. She was careful to make sure the tape was clean of lint and any debris before she applied it. Once it was on, it could not be removed, and God help her if he found any dirt or debris on the tape again, or if he felt she hadn't put enough tape on. squatting naked and balancing carefully on the balls of her feet, she finished applying the layers of tape and slowly rose. Cooking was always full of balancing acts. Now that she was on the balls of her feet she has to stay that way for the entire time. No sitting on her ass, or getting on hands an knees to rest her aching calves. She would remain dutifully perched o her toes the entire time she cooked for him. Cooking was very stressful for her. Shw had never liked doing it, even for herself, which is one fo the reasons he made her cook so much. He rarely gave her any input as to what he felt like having or what his tastes were for day. Still that was never any excuse for her not making something he felt like eating, which was one of the reason she had progressed to cooking him three meals a setting. Deciding what to make was perhaps the hardest part. He was picky eater and there were many dishes he didn't like, or demanded be prepared a very specific way. Since she was forbidden to write anything, she had to memorize all his specific tastes, as she learned them. She didn't want him to have to repeat himself, and she was in for a hell of a whipping if he did. No cookbooks either, since she wasn't allowed to read anymore. So all her recipes, as well as all his very picky likes and dislikes had to remain inside her stupid little head. Remembering Ingredients wasn't so bad, but keeping all the measurements and mounts straight between recipes especially with his pickedness was a challenge. Cooking was done on a weekly 7 day cycle, and once made am meal couldn't be served again until at least the following week, unless fo course he demanded it. That was 63 separate meals she had to make for him each week, not including any snacks. She quickly decided that tonight she would make him fried chicken with french fries, glazed ham with mash potatoes, and pizza with cinnamon bread. There were never frozen dinners in his house and no pre packaged or pre-prepared food. Everything was always made and prepared from scratch for him. Thus for the pizza, she began making the dough and setting out the toppings.
But the hardest part about cooking for him was controlling her own hunger. The aromas from everything smelled so delicious and further upset her rumbling stomach. She hadn't eaten in three days, and the last thing she had was a small stale salad which he had so kindly covered in his piss and cum. She didn't know when he would allow her to eat again. He had told her early on that he liked his bitches anorexic with big tits. That had become another source of grief for her lately. She had C tits when they had first met, but since she had been starving herself for him, they had shrunk to B size. This enraged him and caused her to get at least on extra beating a week for having small worthless tits. She begged him for forgiveness and begged to be allowed to get huge implants. After berating and beating her for weeks about it, he finally agreed, on the condition that she get silicone DDD or larger and that she pay for it. She profusely thanked him and begged to be allowed to get another job so she could pay for them. Not that she didn't make enough from her day job, but all of that was payed directly int his account and thus was his.
The new job posed a bit of a dilemma for her though. She worked all day, walking home every afternoon to cook him lunch, and did most of the other housework in the evenings or mornings. Thus a night job was the only option, and thus would greatly cut into her sleep hours. She pleaded that getting bigger tits for him was more important then her being rested. He agreed, to let her get a second job but laid down restrictions. Number one, that the job be menial in nature and thus appropriate to her inferior female status. Number two, that the job be low paying with no possibility of advancement. Number three, that work be boring and uninteresting, Number four, that all of her bosses be male, number five that she have no authority over anyone at her job, and number six, that it be within 6 miles walking distance. He made very clear that in no way were any of her housework duties to suffer. Plus, she would continued to be beaten weekly until she got better tits for him.
In between preparing his meals she washed dishes and cleaned the kitchen. He always told her that a dirty kitchen was a sure sign of a worthless lazy whore, and that His kitchen had better remain spotless. Not an easy task when you cook nine meals a day. So in between cooking his meals, she wiped the counters and table, cleaned the appliances, the fridge, the oven , the sink and did the dishes by hand. There was a dishwasher, but he forbid her to use. She must wash and dry each dish by hand, and there had better not be any food stain or water spots when she's done. Since He had few dishes and cooking utensils, she was perpetually washing dishes. While scrubbing a dish she suddenly got a horribly bad cramp in one of her straining calves and nearly fell. Thank god she hadn't at that would be viewed as resting and earn her a tortuous punishment. She balanced on the ball of her one foot trying desperately to hold herself up. She was silently cussing herself, cause she almost grabbed on to the counter and nearly let her heels touch the floor. She was forbidden to learn or support herself on anything in the house with out his order. Thus she balanced herself on the toes of one foot, still scrubbing the dish, as she waited for pain in her straining calf to subside somewhat. By the time she was done cooking His meals, the kitchen had to look as if she had never been it. The kitchen floor, which need to be licked clean, would have to be done later when she was allowed to crawl again.
Dinner is Served
After over an hour of slaving to make his meals, she was finally done. She knew she would be beaten for taking more then an hour. “Stupid cunt” she told herself. She recorded the time with a crayon, 1 hour 14 minutes on the clip board that he had hung in the kitchen for her to post her times. Frequent beatings were inevitable. as some meals couldn't scarcely be prepared in an hours time, and there was only one stove and limited utensils. So she had to try and prepare meals that could be cooked simultaneously with the limited resources she had. Quickly and with a noticeable limp she tiptoed around the kitchen laying out his food and eating utensils. Making a last minute check of the kitchen to make sure it was spotless, she clasped her hands behind her back and tiptoed to the edge of the kitchen. “Master?” “What is it cunt?” He knew his meals were ready. “Your dinner is ready Sir.” “About fucking time bitch.” He plopped himself up out of his chair, dumping the food had been eating onto the floor. She'd have to clean that up later. He strolled towards the kitchen leering at her. He stopped at the clipboard. “You fucking whore” he yelled as he slapped her so hard her she nearly fell off her toes, as she fell back against the wall hitting her head. She quickly gathered her senses and keeping her arms behind her resumed her position in front of him. He smacked her again, and again and again knocking her head to the side with each blow. After each one, and immediately after being hit she returned her face to the front to receive the next blow. He tended to slap quickly in rapid succession, so there was little time to for her to recover. After roughly a dozen times, he finished with a big loogie in her face. It hit her in the eye and dripped down her nose toward her mouth. The man could spit like a cobra. Her face was noticeably red and swollen .
He walked around to the table, took a pack of cigarettes out of his sleeve and plopped himself self down. Quickly she knelt down beside him, with her knees widespread her back and neck arched, her arms behind her and her eyes and mouth wide open, her tongue just peeking out. He lit his cigarette and took a deep breath, blowing the smoke in her face. “You get fucking uglier everyday.” “Yes Sir, I'm very sorry sir.” She had never smoked and hated cigarette smoke. He had since his teenage years and was had become a chain smoker since prison. He blew virtually every breath of smoke into her face. It burned and irritated her eyes and lungs. She knew better then to close her eyes or cough. He flicked the first ashes from his cigarette into her open mouth. She was frequently his ashtray. There were very few in the house for that reason. As she knelt obediently he continued to blow smoke and dick his ash into her mouth and on her face. The worst was when the ash go in her eyes. It burned so bad it was always a challenger for her to keep them open. He took a particular heavy drag and leaned forward a few inches from her mouth, before blowing it in. Those moments were as close as he ever got to kissing her. He laughed at her revealing his yellow stained teeth. Continuing to smoke he reached down with one hand and grabbed a nipple. Digging his nail in he twisted and pulled, and yanked on the already bruised and swollen nipple. He watched her carefully as he did so. She better not move. and better keep her mouth and eyes open. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she made no audible sounds. He started smacking her tits hard. He like to watch them flop around as she held still . “You got such ugly tits cunt”. Normally, she would have to respond, but not while she was serving as his ashtray, her mouth had to remain open as the ash pooled in it. Though he was often careless how he flicked his cigarette, so ash also accumulated on her face and chest. He continued to smack her tits at his leisure. “Up on your knees cunt!” She immediately grabbed the backs of her ankles and lifted them until heels were at the side of her ass. She was now teetering on her knees on the hard linoleum floor. The pressure and pain on knees was great, and it was painfully difficult to hold her balance.
He went back to smacking her tits, Each blow threatened to throw her off balance. He neck and jaw muscles ached in their perpetually stained positions. He had finished the first cigarette and tossed the butt into her mouth, before starting another. After lighting his next cigarette he finally glanced at the meals she had made for him. “What crap did you make for me tonight slut?” He stuck his finger in the mashed potatoes and tasted it. He took a closer look at the food. She knew he was looking for imperfections. He nibbled at a couples of the dishes, but mostly just made a mess on the table. “You stupid cunt, you cant cook for shit.” “I don't know why In keep your ugly ass around.” She knew why he did. Cause she new her place. Cause she was his complete and total slave. After flicking the burning butts of a couple more cigarettes her mouth, he put his last cigarette out on her cheek. It sizzled as he rubbed it in. Her tear stained eyes were the only indication that it hurt her. He tossed that one in her mouth too. Then emitting a loud burp, he stood up and undid his pants, taking his cock out. He pissed directly into her face and mouth. Her mouth filled up quickly and overflowed down her front. He finished with “swallow pisswhore” and she immediately closed her mouth and tried to make a big swallow. The piss actually helped ease the burning from the butts he had neglected to put out on her face. Swallowing the piss and ash was easy, but the cigarette butts were very difficult to swallow with out chewing. Still with one large gulp and a couple mini ones, she swallowed the filthy contents of her mouth, then opened it up wide again. “Did you like your meal whore?” “Yes Sir, very much Sir, thank you.” “Here's your desert then.” He snorted really loud a couple of times, then leaned over put a finger to his nose and blew a long thick string of snot into her mouth. “Savor the flavor bitch.” She closed her mouth and quite noticeably moved her tongue around. “Mmm, very delicious Sir thank you very much.” She opened her mouth back up, the snot was still visibly on her tongue.
“Get your lazy ass back to work whore.” Scratching his crotch, he shuffled out of the kitchen to go and do whatever he wanted. She was finally allowed to put her legs back down. both her knees cracked loudly. She got back up to her tip toes and cleaned up the kitchen, cleaning all the dishes, wiping the table and finally throwing all the uneaten food away. Then she carefully removed the tapes form her heels and placed them on neatly on the counter for him to inspect if he so chose. Back down on her hands and knees she started cleaning the kitchen floor with her tongue, paying special attention to the piss puddle. Afterwards she could finally get started on her other daily chores.
Slave Choices
Evenings were a difficult time for her. For a complete and total slave she had a lot of choices to make. Despite usually spending a solid 4-5 hours a day cleaning his house, she was perpetually behind in her housework. Evenings were NEVER a time of rest and relaxation for her. Quite the opposite. Since she worked a ful time job to support him during the day, this was the only time she had for her house chores. She worked hard and never slacked form her duties. But still despite her best efforts, keeping his house spotless, was a battle she was constantly losing. This of course earned her his contempt and frequent beatings. Much like when she cooked for him, she had to prioritize. The most visible messes had to be taken care of first. After which she worked on chores that had to be done that day. Dusting was something she perpetually did. No matter how often she dusted, it seemed to come back so fast. Finishing specks of dust on something enraged him, so she was extra careful to dust everything in the house everyday. She dusted every pierce of furniture, every nook and cranny, ceiling fans, paintings, TV's, anything where the slightest bit of dust my accumulate. He was very creative in finding dust, and she learned quickly that is wasn't good enough to just dust furniture in the visible places. Did she dust the tops of the painting and ceiling fans? Did she dust the lights on the ceilings, and move the furniture away form the wall to dust behind it? These were the question that ran through her head. there were so many little places she had to remember to get. she had to multitask when she cleaned, or she would never get anything done.
So tonight, while dusting, she also waxed the furniture, vacuumed, did laundry, folded clothes, moped the floor, cleaned the toilet and tub, and most importantly cleaned up his messes. Her biggest concern is she never knew he was going to use or beat her. He liked to fuck her in the evenings and usually did so at least once. Also her punishment were usually administered then as well. Having no idea how long her fuckings or beating would take only put more pressure on her. They were certainly no excuse for not getting her chores done. She saw a certain irony when he beat her for not cleaning his house well enough, as he knew full well the beating itself was putting her further behind. Plus she had no idea what time he would order her to bed. The term bed being used for convenience, as she actually slept on the floor next to his bed.
Laundry was the one chore that wasn't too difficult in his house. He didn't have all that many outfits, and her entire wardrobe had been reduced to one outfit and she was only permitted to wash it once a week. All of his clothes, however, were to be washed, dried, ironed, folded and put away, everyday. Even id he hadn't worn them. This way everything he had, was always available to wear. In the mornings she would get up before him to lay out and iron and iron again, three different outfits for him. It was silly cause he had no job to go to, and often didn't wear what she laid out anyway. Still she was required to do it. She was required to get up before him Every morning, to lay out his outfits and cook hi breakfast. It was also a chance to try and catch up on any housework, she didn't get too the night before. She got up at five every morning. It took about any hour to make his three breakfasts, and hour to walk to work. She gave herself the extra hour for miscellaneous chores, and in case he wanted to use her after he was up, which he usually did. Generally it started with her swallowing his morning piss and then a breakfast blow job. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day she told herself while she gobbled his cock under the table Then often he would give her a quick violent fuck , before she went off to work, to support him.
He caught her by surprise, while she was day dreaming about her life. Usually she heard him coming up, not that it mad any difference really. he spun her around by the hair, twisted her head to the side and bit hard int her slender neck. She already had lasting bruises on her neck from his bites. Theses weren't hickeys or “love bites”, but cruel hard, painful, skin crushing, bleeding bites, that left teeth marks and deep bruises in their wake, not to mention lasting pain. He bit her a couple of times, while pulling and twisting her hair with one hand and with the other, mauling, and twisting her tit as if it detached. After biting her, he smacked her a couple of times before tossing her stomach first over the back of his couch. Without being told she quickly spread her ass for him Usually he fucked her face for a minute to somewhat lube his cock, but not this time. He crudely stabbed at her dry ass until he fully imbedded within. then began his brutal use of her while digging his nails into both her ass cheeks. she put her hands down out of the way, once he was fully in and raced herself as much as she could. the couch began moving across the floor in increments as he pounded into her ever sore ass.
“This place in a fucking mess bitch.” “I'm sorry Sir I'll try harder.” “Damn right you will cunt.” “I'm through being easy on you”. “Especially now that you got such ugly tits. You know there's much better looking cunts out there don't you whore?” “Yes Sir I know there's much better looking cunts out there. I'm so sorry I'm such an ugly cunt”. “You know there's better fucks out there too?” “Yes Sir I know there are better fucks out there.” “I bet some of those other cunts could please me more then you.” “Yes Sir please find other cunts that can please you more.” “Yea”, he grunted,. “Ones that aren't so ugly.” “Yes Sir ones that aren't as ugly as me.” “And ones with better tits.” “Yes Sir ones with better tits.” “And tighter fuckholes.” “Yes sir ones with tighter fuckholes.”
Her holes used to be tight, but after three years of his constant abuse, they'd certainly loosened a bit. Still there weren't bad considering the massive amount of abuse they'd taken. Though much of their remaining tightness was due to her practicing tightening her muscles for him. “God, I hate you bitch, why should I keep your worthless ass around.” “Please Sir, keep my worthless ass around. Let me serve you always and please use me for your slightest whim”. “I'm getting bored with you bitch”, he said yanking her up by the hair. “You understand me?” “Yes Sir I'm sorry I'm such a boring bitch”. “I'm putting you on notice right now. As soon as I fins a cunt to serve me better your out on your ass. You understand me whore?”, he said tightening his grip on her hair. “Yes Sir, as soon as you find a better cunt to serve you better, im out on my ass. Please Sir, let me try harder t please you.” With a loud groan he sprayed him cum up her ass. there was a pause, then he quickly pulled out and pulled her to her knees. in front of him by her hair. wordlessly he plunged his softening dick into her mouth so she could clean it, Arms behind her back she dutifully cleaned him, until he yanked her off and punched her face, knocking her to the floor. Walking off he murmured “time for bed whore”.
He usually punched her after using her, it was a reminder he said that he had no respect, love or appreciation at all for her, and he wanted her to remember that every time he used her. Usually her face was just sore or bruised, sometimes, shed get a bloody lip or black eye, and only three times did he break her nose. Having never been fixed her otherwise slender nose had a small bulb in it, and it hurt to press on it. He knew this and sometimes grabbed and squeezed her nose while he throat fucked her. He had hit her nose this time, and it really stung her. She felt liquid running out of her nose, and not being permitted to wipe her face she tasted it with her tongue to see if it was blood or snot. Ok, it was just snot, he hadn't broken her nose again, or at least if he did it wasn't bleeding so she didn't have to worry about dripping blood in His house. He had just knocked the snot out of her. She giggled at her joke. Being strictly forbidden form blowing her nose, or wiping her face she sucked the snot back up her nose as best she could, and licked the rest with her tongue. He nose felt full and swollen, and she knew her sinuses would be draining now. They would just have to drain down her throat and not out her nose.
She quickly put away her cleaning supplies, and quietly went to the bedroom to “bed” as he ordered. He was already in bed. She crawled around to his side and out the earphone piece in her ear, for the alarm clock. Thus she could get up early with out disturbing him at all. and also she would gently wake him up as oppose to a noisy alarm clock. the earplug was only fo one ear. Her other was to be free in case he needed something during the night, such as a drink or snack, blow job, piss, etc. He was already snoring. He snored so loud it was unbelievable to her at first. Even with all her submission to him, there were times in the beginning where she just wanted to poke him a bit to get him to stop, at least for am minute or two. She never did, and wouldn't even think of something like that now, even though it still kept her up sometimes. Sometimes while trying t get to sleep, she thought about her life, but tonight she was so exhausted, even his snoring couldn't keep her up.
Morning Bliss
She awoke with his foot pressing on her face. “Wake up you lazy you bitch, I need to piss.” “Yes Sir, I'm sorry Sir.” A glimpse of the clock, showed it was two in the morning. She quickly leaned over the bed with her hands cupped behind her. Still lying on his back he pulled the covers away to ogive her access. Always forbidden form touching his cock or body with her hands, she used her tongue to lift his flaccid cock int her mouth and engulfed it to the hilt. Not a second later he let his piss go full blast into her mouth and throat. she had learned to swallow very quickly, as she new the penalty for getting any piss on him or his bed for her failure to swallow fast enough. He didn't slow it down or release it in spurts either. She had learned her place well and took the full blast without spilling a drop. She rarely did spill anymore unless he hit her face while he was pissing. after he finished pissing, she remained there, mouth engulfing his cock, until he crudely and wordlessly yanked her off by the hair. That was her signal he was done. She hadn't been thirsty, but she did have to pee herself. But since she was only allowed to do so once a day, she would have to wait until tomorrow.
The alarm woke her the next time. She quietly took the earpiece out an and turned off the alarm. Waking him before she was supposed to really pissed him off, so she had to be extra quiet in the mornings. That meant no noisy chores, and no noisy cooking devices. Silently she crawled into the adjoining room and picked out three different complete outfits he might wish t wear that day. She went through his closet and drawers looking for items that went well together. Once they outfits were laid out she proceed to iron each and every article of clothing, including socks ands underwear, so it would be warm and wrinkle free for him. They were ironed before they were put away yesterday, but she was required t do it again when she laid out outfits for him. She actually felt uncomfortable laying out his outfits cause she didn't feel that was her place to even offer a suggestion o what he wear let alone pick out his outfits. She actually took comfort in the fact that he almost never wore what she laid out for him. Often he didn't even get completely dressed, and just wore at shirt and underwear around the house. So the vast majority of the time she ended up refolding the out fits and putting them back before she left for work. She new the entire routine was mandated primarily to give her more work to do, and give her another reason to get up earlier. Still she though it was good that on the slight possibility he choose one of the outfits, she would have provided hi that convenience and that was what she was there for. His convenience. After finishing laying out his outfits, she finished up some chores that she didn't get to the night before and then started making his three breakfasts.
Forty minutes later she was kneeling beside His bed naked, legs spread, arms cuffed behind her and softly said, “Sir, your breakfasts are ready”. “Fuck off bitch”. “Yes Sir, I'm sorry Sir.” That was her clue that he was going to sleep in today. she quietly crawled out of the room. and put the leftovers in the fridge, for when eh got up. She was required to wake him just before she left, in case he wanted to get up, but he only did about half the time. Since he didn't work he had the freedom to sleep in whenever he wanted.
She crawled to the back of the house and bare ass naked, crawled out the back door making sure it shut behind her. It was set to automatically lock, as she was forbidden any keys. the back patio was screened in with dark screen which provided some privacy, though ,someone standing outside and close up could see through it. It provided little protection from the elements however, and although it was sunny, it was a chilly day. The cold cement made her feet numb and she shivered in the chill breeze. Certainly the weather dictated a jacket, if not a coat. She tipped over to the crude wooden box in the corner. It was about two foot by two foot and contained her only belongings. Nothing of hers was ever permitted in his house, and anything he permitted her to own had to fit in this box. She pulled out the only clothing she had and began getting dressed. Her one and only pair of shoes were 6 inch stilettos. She had gotten them early on when she started “dating” him. When he began selling off her clothing, He allowed her to keep only her most uncomfortable pair of heels. Dutifully she choose these. They would have been uncomfortable to stand or walk in even if they had been the proper size. As it is they were a size or two small and horribly cramped her feet. However it was the addition of tacks to the shoes that caused her the most discomfort. Standing and walking on tacks all day was o the wrong side of comfort. But she new this was good for her. She was constantly reminder fo her place. Being in constant pain and discomfort was good for a cunt and kept her in the proper frame of mind. She winced stepping into the only shoes she's worn for the last three years. there were nearly permanent holes in the bottoms of her feet form the tacks. Her left heels was coming loose, which made these shoes even more difficult t walk in , but of course that was entirely her problem.
Next she took out her harness. It was a strap that when between her legs and circled and tightened around her waist. Not permitted panties, her fuckholes must always be plugged when she leaves the house. Two large dildos adorned the strap that went between her legs. Forbidden form ever touching herself for pleasure of comfort, or using lubrication, she did her best to fully insert both the dry and cold dildos into her fuckholes. In always took a bit of twisting and shoving. but she go them in. Pulling up hard o the strap she made sure they were fully inserted, as her boss might check.
She took out her black bra and carefully put it on. the cups were two tight and the straps cut int her shoulders. But it was the fact that the cups were entirely lined with sandpaper and tacks that made the bra really special. Her tits bore many tack holes similar to her feet but less dramatic. Still her Boss loved to squeeze her tits and drive the tacks in. She was not allowed to adjust her bra if he did. This was the only time she could do so. She Cried silently as she squeezed her own tits, driving the tacks into her aching tits. She wasn't required to do this, but felt she deserved this. While forbidden form bringing herself any pleasure she was permitted and even encouraged to find ways to increase her pain and discomfort. Of course He would have no idea she did this, but that wasn't the point. She did this to increase her pain, not to receive any accolades or approval. She squeezed and twisted her tits a couple more times until she felt most of the tacks were fully imbedded, then, continued getting dressed. Next she took out her thin white cotton blouse. It was sheer and tight, showing of her tits, especially with the black bra. A plain very loose flowing plaid skirt that fell to her mid thighs completed her only outfit. No coats, no jewelry, no money, no keys, no nothing. She was for bidden to carry anything.
The once a week exception to this was grocery day. He would leave her $200 to stop at the store an pick up food for his meals and cleaning supplies. The receipt and all change was returned to him. Nothing was to be purchased for herself. Deciding what to buy was another balancing act. She had to buy enough to give him a variety and last a week, plus she had to be able to carry it all home and it had to all cost less then what he gave her. Lastly, she took the small cracked makeup mirror out and began putting on her bright red lipstick, followed by heavy blue eyeshadow. Both looked really whorish on her pale skin, and He always said that how she should look. When finished she waled out of the patio enclosure and down the driveway past His car.
Supporting Him
She was lucky to have this job she reminded herself daily. She was lucky it was only an hours walking distance from where she lived. She was lucky to have a boss that understood she was just a cunt. That saw her as an inferior female and rightly treated her as such. A Boss that showed her no respect and had no qualms about taking liberties with her. Arriving at her employment at about 8:OO, she began sweeping the parking lot with an old broom and dustpan, picking up liter and cigarettes, etc. The office didn't open until 9:00 but she was required to show up at eight. Of course she wasn't paid for that hour, but this way she would never be late, plus it gave her the opportunity to clean the small parking lot.
“Morning cunt”, he said giving her tits a firm squeeze. “Morning Sir.” “You have a lot of work today bitch.” “Yes Sir I'm ready.” He walked int his office and began making calls while she sat on her hard wooden stool and began typing. Beyond serving and supporting her owner working was important to her. Especially this job because the work she did supported male supremacy. Officially it was a mens right organization, but behind the scenes it was clearly male supremacy, a cause she firmly believed in. Most of the office work involved helping men with divorces, c***d support, c***d payments, etc. But they also helped those accused of **** and other sex crimes, with legal help, and in general supported laws and regulations that gave men more rights and reduced them for women.
Like everything in her life her job was hard. Though it had gotten much more difficult over the last three years. Though she was not consulted, she knew her Owner had talked with her Boss when he claimed her. Her Owner wanted to make sure her job was sufficiently difficult, so some changes were made. She now was required to do much more work in a smaller amount of time. Basically her work load quintupled. Her boss sat her down and laid out the new rules and guidelines. Her chair had been reduced to a stool. Her computer and printer to an old typewriter. Whatever she typed must be prefect, no typos, or she had to retype the whole page. No white out was to be used wither. Her Boss never fucked her, but was entitled to blow jobs at whim, and of course was free fondle and grope her at will. In addition to secretary she also now performed janitor services, changing light bulbs, moping the floor, shoveling the walk, cleaning up coffee spills, etc. Of course, she was also required to make a fresh pot of coffee every two hours and refill his cup at whim. There were no coffee breaks for her, one cause she was forbidden to eat or drink at work, and two, she wasn't allowed any breaks, not even bathroom. She had to work every second when she was there.
Her hourly wage was increased from $10 to $16 an hour, but would of course it would be directly deposited into her Owners account. Her Boss had never been very nice to her, but it was clear after speaking with her Owner, He thought much less of her now. The way in which he talked down to her greatly intensified. Work duties, also now consisted of giving shoulder and foot rubs, serving coffee and giving blow jobs. Her wooden stool was uncomfortable. It was too short, so that her ass was actually lower then her knees. there was no opening for legs at the desk, so she had to spread them wide to get close enough to the old clunky typewriter. Sitting like this on her black, blue and blistered ass, on the hard stool drove the dildos deeper into her holes. It was painful but made her wet at the same time. She felt so full, so used, like a woman should. Even though she was fucked almost everyday, she hadn't cum in nearly three years. The perpetual frustration was good for her though she thought. Keeping herself perpetually horny made her a better slave bitch. Even so the dildos hurt far more then they aroused her. They were simply a constant reminder of what she was made for. The stool did little to comfort her perpetually beaten ass, but at least it took the pressure of her feet. It was the only time of day she could sit, other then when she slept on the floor. Otherwise she was always on her tip toes or hands and knees.
She always sat up perfectly straight on her stool. Her Boss warned her that slouching was a sure indication of a lazy cunt. Her typewriter was to high up and too far back. She had to strain to reach the keys and of course this made it more difficult to type properly. She had to type with her arms almost completely outstretched and raised above her tits. Her legs were spread wide against the desk and her tack filled tits pushed against the edge. Still most typos weren't even her fault. The typewriter was old and the keys stuck and jammed often. Every time she found an error, she had to place the page in the correction box for her Boss to review. Her Boss rarely spoke to her other then to have her fetch something or berate her. But she had worked there six years now and even with all the new requirements and work load, she new what was generally expected of her. After completing today's typing, she cleaned her bosses bathroom, made him fresh coffee, and in general cleaned around the office in between fetching him things.
“Bitch get in here.” “Yes Sir, right away Sir.” She shuffled into his office. He was reviewing today's typos. “Three fucking typos today bitch”. “Yes Sir I'm very sorry Sir.” He reached over and took the large wooden paddle off the wall. Wordlessly and quickly she flipped up here skirt and bent over his desk with her arms straight out. He walked around her and with little hesitation whapped her ass hard. “One Sir”, whap, “Two Sir”, whap, “Three Sir”, and so on until she counted 125 blows. She was given twenty five for every typo, plus fifty every day just to remind her she was a cunt and needed discipline. “That's all slut”., “Yes Sir thank you Sir for correcting me”.
He put the paddle back n the wall and slumped in not his chair, unzipping his pants. Immediately she got on her hands and knees an crawled around hi desk. Cupping her hands behind her back she engulfed his cock and sucked him with her full enthusiasm, until he started face fucking her, then she just relaxed and let him use her throat. He pulled her hair and squeezed her tits as he did so. After about 15 minutes he shot his load into her throat and then yanked her off, so she fell to the floor. “Closing time cunt, get the fuck out.” “Yes Sir thanks you for letting this inferior cunt serve you.” She crawled out of his office and then left to begin her hour walk home.
Waiting for Him
Her walks home from work was the most free time she had each day. There was nothing she could do with it of course, but she wasn't working or serving, so it allowed her to think deeper thoughts. She had to walk briskly to get home in time. She left work at 4:00 and was always expected home by 5:00. It was a long walk and she had no time to stop and smell the roses. She giggled at the thought. “Flowers are so stupid” she thought. She had never been given flowers and certainly didn't deserve any. Women are whores and cunts, things to b used and abused. objects to be owned. They certainly shouldn't be given gifts. They shouldn't be loved and cherished, but beaten and humiliated. They should be made to accept their place as inferior fuckholes. A cunt's life should be hard and degrading. She wished more men knew how to treat and use their women, and that more women knew their place was at their man's feet .
That's why she was so happy to have her day job. It wasn't just that she was properly taken advantage of at work, but that she got to constantly work on things that were geared towards suppressing women. In the six years she'd been there, her Boss had helped get r****ts off, or released early, provided means for legal services to many men so they that made out well on divorcees, c***d support, custody, etc. But what pleased her the most were the referrals to counseling services. Men were counseled to be dominant and women to be submissive. It had saved marriages and many sluts learned their place. Most recently a young newly married wife was thinking of divorce, but reluctantly went to counseling with her husband. Her main complaints were that he was too demanding, abusive and was cheating on her. By the end of her counseling, when was begging her husband to take her back. She promised to devote her life pleasing him and swore she would never utter another complaint. He reluctantly agreed , though warned that he was going to be much harder on her form now on, and that since she failed him once already he was going to keep looking around for better cunt. She accepted his terms.
Her feet and tits were incredibly sore by the time she got to her owners home. As she walked down his driveway she noticed His car was gone. She had no idea where he was or when he'd be back. He almost never told her where he was going. Not that he had any obligation to check with her. Usually if he did make a comment it was something about going to fuck another bitch, and stated mainly for the purpose of degrading her. But usually he said nothing at all, coming and going as he pleased. In the three years they had been together He had never really had a conversation with her. Talk almost always centered around demanding things form her or degrading her. There were no intellectual conversations or even mundane ones, such as “how was your day”?
She walked around the back of the house to the patio enclosure. It didn't feel any warmer then the outside. She walked over to her box and began stripping off her garments. carefully removing the tackbra and tackheels. Both her tits and feet were bleeding, but she knew from experience they would close up by the time her let her in. Shivering and completely naked she knelt three feet in the front of the house door. Arms clasped behind her back, knees spread, she knelt with perfect posture. He opened the door and caught her slouching a few times. She now knew better. No matter how long he made her wait, she had better keep perfect form until he let her in. Usually He made her wait no more then a hour to be let in, but sometimes she was out there all evening and three times all night. Though usually on these occasions he was drunk or high and simply forgot about her. Sometimes he was simply fucking another bitch and staying at her place for the night, and sometimes he was just out partying with friends. The excuse really didn't matter, even if he was home he would let her in when he got around to it.
Regardless of the wait there was never any complaint on her part. Once two years ago she after waiting all night, she didn't complain, but tentatively enquired as to where he was. She had knelt all night and was exhausted. Needless to say he wasn't happy with her. That's when he had her start kneeling on the wooden triangle. It was two feet long and about two inches high. It was very uncomfortable and down right painful the longer she knelt. He said this would help her keep awake. In twisted way, he was right.
This was the slowest part of her day. between the walk home and the waiting t be let in, she had the most time to think. Mostly she about what chores needed to be done or how she could better please Him. Sometimes she flirted with thoughts in her head of rubbing her swollen breasts or aching feet to provide some relief. Or maybe of just sitting and resting for a few minutes. Or Maybe even masturbating real quick. It had been three years and she was very desperate for some sexual release. He wasn't even home after all, he would never know she told herself. Plus she would hear his car pull up when he did come home. “No you dumb bitch” she told herself. There would be no relief for her. Her tits and feet would continue aching with no tender caress form her. She would kneel in perfect form until he allowed her in His house. And she wouldn't diddle her clit, and give her self that little bit of pleasure she so desperately wanted. She wouldn't cause she was a slave cunt and didn't deserve pleasure. She exited to please, not to be pleased. He wanted her to suffer, and deep down so did she.
There were so many times when he fucked her, even though he had absolutely no interest in her pleasure, that she felt she could come. Sometimes if he would just slowed down a little or let her move, or change the angle of his dick slightly, she was sure she would explode in orgasm. But fucking wasn't for her pleasure, and never would be. It was always for and completely for his pleasure. If anything fucking was to cause her pain and lots of it. Fucking was the ultimate mastery of a woman. The perfect opportunity for Him to take pleasure and give pain.
40 minutes later, still kneeling, she began to worry. Even though she had become somewhat accustomed to kneeling on the wooden triangle, it hurt terribly to do so, for a few minutes, let alone hours. It was getting progressively difficult for her to endure this on a daily basis, and still function at the level required of her. She didn't want her service to Him to suffer because of her physical inadequacies. As it is, he already seemed to be growing more and more disgusted with her. Her knees were hurting to the point, that she feared being unable to crawl or tiptoe well enough to get her chores done. Particularly if he was going to be out late and leave her less time. His lack of love or respect for her was obvious and he routinely expressed his hatred and contempt for her, and all bitches in general. But lately he had been saying he was bored with her, and this concerned her somewhat. It wasn't as if he had ever been faithful to her, or ever really hid the fact that he was fucking other bitches. After all, He had no obligation t be faithful or monogamous and she didn't expect Him too. She was happy he sought out other cunt to use. He was out there using and defiling bitches, and this was a good thing and His God given right as a Man. But saying he was bored, made her realize he was growing tired of her. He had after all been using her continuously for three years now, surely some of the other cunts he was fucking were better then her. Maybe they were prettier, or better fucks, better cocksuckers, better cooks, better maids, surely some of them had to be. Or maybe they were just younger or the newest flavor.
This was no marriage and he could toss her ass out at any time. In fact when she first surrendered herself to him, he made a point of telling her he would keep only as long as it was convenient for him. “Stupid bitch”, she told herself. She new form the beginning she was replaceable. She always felt he would tire of her and replace with some younger cunt, but she didn't think it would be this quick. But if that's what he wanted, then of course she would be happy for him. He would discard her when He felt like it and she would go without complaint or protest. She would leave on his whim and on his terms. She was virtually certain, those terms would include her leaving with absolutely nothing.
She wondered what he was doing right now. Was he drunk? High? Was He at atrip club or fucking some whore's ass? Was he r****g another botch again? Was he purposely making her wait or did he have no idea what time it was? If he did, she was certain he didn't care. And why should he? The cunt would be kneeling in place whenever he got home. Why the hell should he be interrupted for her? After going through this evenings chores and dinner selection, she thought about who he might be using. The she thought about her pain, the pain in her knees the soreness in her fuckholes, the frustration of never cumming, and mostly the pain and burn of the numerous cuts, bruises and welts that adorned her body. She tried to focus on each one. When did she receive it? From what instrument?, for what reason? It was her own little guessing game. Try to identify the pain she was feeling, and name the time, place instrument and reason she received it. There were enough marks old and new, that she could play this games for hours. It helped to pass the time while she waited.
Learning to Serve
She had lost track of time now, but knew it had been over an hour. He had been taking a longer time to let her in over the last month. She figured that was another sign of his growing boredom with her. She was simply going not have to try harder to please and interest him. Obviously she wasn't doing enough if he was tiring of her already. She racked her brain trying to come up with ways she could do more for Him or do things better. Maybe it was a lost cause, but she would certainly try to do more. She would give whatever she had left to give and then give some more. That was her nature and lot in life, and she never doubted that.
She learned the truth of male supremacy at an early age and embraced it throughly. Starting with the uncle that m*****ed her, which she dutifully accepted and kept quite. That went on for a few years and his fondlings were her first sexual experiences. It progressed to giving him some blow jobs, but he died soon after. She remembered the guilt ands shame she felt at having been so easily manipulated into serving his whims.
At fifteen she suffered through her first fucking, by and 18 year old. It was a **** of course. It was their “first date”. He picked her up after school and was supposed to take her to dinner and movie, but instead took her to an abandoned field and demanded she suck him. When she refused he smacked her until she said ok. After getting him hard he pushed her down and fucked her brutally hard for five minutes.. She had said no and tried to close her legs, but her was too strong. When came in her he pulled out and brought his cock to her lips to clean. By this time she had grown compliant and licked him clean. Afterwards he got up zipped his pants up and drove away leaving her there. She laid their crying for a bit feeling the pain form her newly broken in snatch. It was definitely ****, but even now she can remember the feeling that part of her wanted it. Part of her reveled in the way he treated her. He was a man, and claimed what he wanted. She was weak and inferior and could do nothing to stop him. It was a good lesson for her to learn. Three days later it was she, who called him. She wanted him to know that she bore no hard feelings towards him and in fact greatly respected him for being a re