"What kind of an asshole tells a girl that he loves her, woos her, sodomizes her and then sends her an e-mail, AN E-MAIL telling her that he 'just can't do this anymore? What the fuck does that mean, 'do this anymore?' What, exactly, is 'this?'"
He could feel her hot breath in his ear and he could feel the strap-on in his ass. He was being ripped apart, he thought he might be sick, he wanted to black out but no such luck.
"How does my cock feel in your ass? Hmmmmm? Do you like it? Do you like it as much as I liked it when you did it to me?"
She withdrew her cock and as his asshole began to take stock, as his mind began to clear again now that the pain had stopped, he felt her shove it back in again, to the tip. Bile rose up in his throat.
"Oh, look at what we have here. Your cock is hard so you must be enjoying this. I always knew you were more of a pussy than I was, then I could ever be."
She pulled the strap-on out again, he struggled to catch his breath, hopeful that he would never again feel that kind of searing pain but he heard the unmistakable sound of rubber gloves being put on. That sickening snap at the wrist. He couldn't begin to imagine what might be worse than what he had already endured.
And then he felt the cold lubricant, dripping down his ass crack and her fingers began making their way into his ass.
He began to cry out, realizing that it was the first sound he had made since this ordeal began. How did this happen? Where had she been hiding? How did he end up hogtied in his own bed? He had to admit that everything that she was putting him through, he had done to her. She had not deviated a bit from the experience she was re-enacting. The night he had sodomized her. And, if that were the case, he knew what was next.
He struggled to keep his mouth shut, his teeth tightly together, as he felt her trying to shove his panties into his mouth. His were much larger than the thong she had been wearing, and as much as he struggled to keep his boxers out of his own mouth, it was pointless fighting. He tried to take it like a man.
"So, how does it feel? Having your asshole filled up, opened, feeling it react almost against your will? You like it, don't you, fucker? Your dick is certainly in the game, it seems to be very happy about this situation, about our roles being reversed."
He couldn't deny that he was hard, harder than he could remember being in the last year. He thought he might explode each time she touched him.
Her finger, then fingers, were making themselves at home in his asshole. He couldn't imagine anything could hurt this much.
"Let's see, what did you used to say to me? Oh yes, 'I love how your asshole opens up for me, look at your beautiful ass, it makes me so hot.' Well, unlike you, your manpussy makes me sick. Do you remember sitting on my face, until I almost suffocated, telling me to 'service' you, telling me to lick your asshole? Do you remember that I had tied myself to the bed that day, trying to please you and then you almost killed me with your fucking manpussy. You were so excited that you didn't care that I couldn't breathe, did you? Want to know how that feels, to not be able to breathe because someone's asshole is on your mouth, covering your nose and any chance you have to speak out is blocked by someone's ass?"
The thoughts racing through his mind were so overwhelming that he seemed to be not at all in control of them. He had to find a way out of the ties that had his hands behind him, rendering him helpless. How had she managed to get him into this position? Fuck, this was bad. Very, very bad.
He began to wriggle his wrists around, trying to gauge if there was any slack in the cuffs but there was none. He was stuck. He felt the cold metal on his ankles and then heard what could only be a spreader bar being put on his ankles. Oh God, what did she have planned for him?
Her fingers went back to work, in his asshole, spreading it, making him and it wider.