Apartment Fuctoy Ep. 02

The Evolution of an Apartment Fucktoy - Episode 2

Tags:

[dubcon] [rape] [body betrayal] [fucktoy] [understanding desire] [dark themes] [toy play] [dildo] [throat fucking] [reverse 69] [hair pulling] [rough slapping] [nipple pinching] [breast slapping] [body handling] [forced fingering] [squirting] [blackout] [mutual understanding] [orgasm] [throatpie] [acceptance] [bribery]

It had been weeks since the incident.

Weeks since I was violated in the back stairwell of my apartment complex.

Weeks since I'd had any semblance of peace.

Over the course of the days following what happened, I found myself secluded in my apartment. I only left to go to work and practically ran home. I avoided the stairwell even though I looked at the door leading to it every time I ran to the elevator, frantically mashing the button as if it would make the elevator move faster. I had all but stopped my midnight runs to the grocery store.

I became hyper aware of how my desires shifted. Before the incident, I was just about as vanilla leaning as you could get. Using good old fashioned porn to get off, but I felt like something had broken open inside of me. The stuff that used to work for me wasn't enough.

I didn't even know what enough was anymore.

I hadn't found a limit.

I found myself drifting in my thoughts while I sat at the counter of the sex shop I worked in, my eyes lazily perusing the wall of dildos. I wondered with a bored but flushed expression on my face what any of them would feel like if they were being stuffed down my throat in a violent and forceful manner. Would it feel the same? Was I willing to buy a few to find out?

The answer to that question was yes and by the time the next week had rolled around, I had six new dildos, all different shapes and lengths scattered about my bed as I tried desperately to replicate what had happened to me in an attempt to burn out whatever was growing inside of me.

It felt like something was taking over.

This dark obsession to recreate what happened so I could bring myself to a blackout orgasm over and over.

I needed it.

Days melted together as I found a new rhythm of work and orgasms.

I fell back against my pillows, my arm draping over my sweaty forehead as I gasped for air. Absently wiping the drool from my lips and chest, I cracked my eyes open to watch the dildos that were stuck to my wall sway and bounce.

I smothered a maniacal laugh as I watched them, curling onto my side facing away from them as I felt tears well up. This was how I spent my nights. Soaking my panties and almost blacking out from throat fucking myself on various dildos stuck to my wall next to my bed.

I just wanted comfort.

I wanted to know that this was ok somehow.

I reached around behind me to peel off one of the dildos, opening my legs to slide the head of it across my soaked lips before sinking it deep inside of me. Once it was seated inside of me, I closed my legs and closed my eyes. I had always loved being full, it was something I couldn't explain to my partners and was probably one of the reasons why my relationships never lasted. That and my shitty work schedule.

I rocked my hips as I willed my mind to empty, feeling the head of the dildo stretch out the deeper parts of me.

I wanted to be used.

I wanted to be wanted for pleasure.

A toy for pleasure.

Pulling the blanket over me, I reached between my legs and fucked the dildo in and out of me until I came again, passing out with it inside of me.

It wasn't until a month later that I started getting manic.

I wanted to see him again.

Somehow it didn't bother me that I didn't know who he was. It was like it made it easier. I wanted to feel his cock hot and throbbing against my tongue, I wanted to sweat from the rough way he took everything he wanted from me. I wanted his harsh fingers against my throat and a belly full of his hot cum. It was all I could think about.

So...I started revisiting my old routine.

Going to the grocery store in the middle of the night.

Wearing the thinnest pajamas I had under my knee length coat.

Sitting in the stairwell on the landing where it happened.

Some nights I'd wait for an hour or more.

Other nights I'd gain a flash of clarity and rush to my apartment, embarrassed that I would even consider doing such a thing. I chastised myself on those nights, throwing my dildos in a drawer so I didn't have to look at them in shame.

But, I never stopped going to the stairwell.

I stopped jumping whenever I was sitting there and someone entered. My heart raced less when I would smile at people passing by while I busied myself on my phone. Some nights I'd talk to my phone like I was talking to someone while they walked by, doing the silent smile wave, pointing at my phone and nodding. Some nights I didn't even lift my face from my phone.

It wasn't until I followed the latter pattern, keeping my eyes on my phone as someone walked by. It was almost one in the morning, so I kept my voice muffled as if I was on the phone, the words drying up in my mouth as a package of cookies entered my vision.

I could hear my heart simultaneously stop and kick into overdrive within seconds of each other as I stared at the cookies being offered to me. They were the same ones I dropped down the stairs that night. I started breathing heavily as I put my phone in my lap, abandoning the ruse of the phone call before looking at the set of legs that were stopped on the same stair I was sitting on.

Time stretched out between us, neither of us moving. I'd spent weeks imagining this moment and what I would do and now that it was here, I couldn't think.

He shook the package in front of me and I reached up with a shaking hand, numbly taking the package. I brought the package to my lap, my heartbeat raging in my ears as neither of us moved. It wasn't until I felt him run his hand through my hair before tightening to the point of pain at the back of my neck did I realize that this was happening again.

Self preservation kicked in and I struggled against him as he pulled me where he wanted me to go, stretching my body across the incline of the steps before stepping over me, his other hand undoing his belt to free his raging erection from behind his fly. I panted hard, wincing as he pulled my hair to tilt my head back, opening my mouth to wipe the head of his cock against my lips.

Shudders wracked my body as the reality set in again.

This time I agreed.

I took the cookies and now I was getting what I had been relentlessly reliving for the last month. I stuck my tongue out, eager to taste his cock again. He responded by shoving three fingers deep into my mouth, making me gag instantly. He fucked my throat with his fingers while my mouth filled with saliva. The act of heaving made my pussy wet while I fought the urge to close my mouth.

I whimpered through thick saliva as he pulled his fingers out, satisfied with his evaluation of my throat before he pressed the head of his cock against my lips. I shook, panting shallowly as my mind caught up with itself, but too slow for him.

He placed his palm against my cheek, smacking it hard enough to make me wince repeatedly until I opened my mouth wide with another whimper. He pushed the head of his cock into my mouth with a satisfied grunt, moving over me to get a better angle and didn't stop pumping into my mouth until his entire length was buried in my throat again. His hand at the back of my head kept a firm pressure as I gagged, the little gasps of air escaping out but not back in while he ground deep into my throat.

My body lit up like fireworks.

He pulled out to let me breathe, a long trail of spit connecting my mouth to the glossy, saliva covered head of his cock. I gasped, dragging in air as much as I could before he plunged back in, pumping deeply into my throat. When he was crushing my nose against his pelvis, he protected the back of my head from contacting the cement of the staircase and his fingers loosened their grip. I whimpered as he reached under him to pull my jacket open, exposing my pajamas to the chill of the staircase.

My nipples hardened immediately and he fumbled with pulling open my shirt until my

breasts were exposed completely, a new thrill rushing through me that was mixed with shame. He twisted my nipples roughly, making me arch into him before he pulled out and spent the next few minutes sloppily fucking my face like that. Twisting my nipples and forcing my mouth on his cock was the overstimulation I'd been dreaming for. I had no control over what happened to me and I could feel my desire dribbling down the crack of my ass.

He pulled out just enough so I could breathe around his shaft while he continued to pinch my nipples between his fingers. I moaned and arched underneath him, desperate for more.

Pulling out of my mouth completely, he let me close my mouth and swallow for the first time in several minutes before he slapped my cheek again with little slaps like before. He tightened his grip in my hair again, pulling me up as he stood up over me, yanking me to my feet until we were both on the landing. He forced me down to my back again, making sure my hood was under my head before he pulled open my pajama top completely, taking both of my breasts in his hands and squeezing roughly. I cried out in the mixture of pain and pleasure until he slapped one hard enough to shut me up. I could feel the burning mark from his hand across the side of my breast. He lightly traced his thumb across the mark I knew was forming while I whimpered, the dizzying mix of violation and desire swirling inside of me. He covered my mouth and slapped me again in the same spot, knowing I would scream before pinching my nipple immediately afterwards. The way he rolled it and pinched it took my mind off the pain of the slap.

I didn't realize at this point my eyes had closed because he took his hands off of me and I was confused on where he'd gone. Opening my eyes, I watched as he knelt over me, his hand pointing the head of his cock towards my mouth which I opened without hesitation in a daze.

His head was sticky with my saliva and his precum, staining my lips and tongue with the flavor before he moved his body over mine in a reverse sixty-nine. Once the weight of his body settled over mine, I realized why this is where we ended up. He could fuck my face as deeply as he wanted from this angle and-

I.

Could do.

Nothing about it.

I breathed when I could as he set a steady pace, the juicy slurping and sucking sounds from my mouth echoing around us. Every once and a while, he'd seat himself so deep inside of my throat, my nose was covered by his balls. He would straighten up when he did this, taking turns slapping my breasts, twisting my nipples, and placing a hand over my throat to use me as a living fleshlight until my face went red.

I was sweating from the way he was handling me. My breasts were burning, my nipples were on fire and I was three seconds away from cumming harder than I had ever cum in my life.

He pulled out just enough to let me breathe, the gasps for air desperate and vital to keeping me from completely blacking out. He waited patiently while I caught my breath, his cock still in my mouth, the sensation becoming something I was more and more comfortable with. His hands traveled the parts of my body that were exposed to him. Grabbing and squeezing my breasts, the soft squish of my tummy and sides. Anything he could reach like he was memorizing my body.

It wasn't until he pulled my pajama bottoms down that I started struggling. The fact that I was getting off to this was my silent burden to bear but he was going to find out just how much I was enjoying this and I didn't want him to know.

I thrashed underneath him, earning harder pinches and slaps until he stretched my throat around his cock completely, grinding as deep as he could get while he pulled my bottoms down to my knees, a single finger tracing through my wetness.

Tears poured down my cheeks as the edges of my vision darkened, the slickened pad of his finger finding my clit and swirling hard around it. He backed out of my throat as I dug my fingernails into his thighs, turning my head to the side to gasp as more tears fell.

The shame that burned through me was at odds with the fact that I wanted this. I wanted this treatment so badly I had waited in the stairwell hoping this would happen. I didn't want him knowing how badly I wanted this but as he entered my dripping pussy with one of his fingers, he knew. There was nothing I could do to stop him from exploring my shame and desire while he resumed pumping in and out of my mouth.

He fingered my pussy in time with fucking my mouth, my moans becoming more desperate until he pushed another finger inside of me. I didn't want to cum on his fingers. I didn't want him ruining something else for me but I was careening out of control.

He pushed two fingers deep into me, curling them up and forcing them up and down in a harsh fashion. Soon the sounds of him fingering me mixed with the gurling sounds of him fucking my face. It was too much for me and before I knew it I was screaming around his cock, cumming harder than I thought possible while he was three knuckles deep in my pussy. He never stopped, making me squirt all over the stairwell and my pajama bottoms. He pulled his fingers out of my pussy to slap it hard, making me squeak around his cock that was pushed just far enough into my mouth to occasionally cut off my air. He took his time stuffing my pussy with his fingers, roughly fingering me before pulling out to smear the wetness of my cum around my clit before slapping it.

I was dizzy.

I don't know how long he fucked my face this time, drool covering my face and neck while he alternated before forcing himself deep into my throat, and fucking me roughly. All I know is that my mind went quiet for the first time in a month and my legs relaxed open while his fingers stayed inside of me.

I shivered in the cold of the stairwell while he tried to insert another finger into my tight channel, spitting on my pussy to add some lubrication. I moaned around his cock, spitting drool and precum across my neck while he successfully got the third finger in, deciding to roughly finger me again until I squirted again. I gurgled and struggled underneath him, listening to him tell me how much of a good whore I was until I blacked out from the weight of my orgasm. When I came back he had both hands on the sides of my face, holding me in place while he came down my throat. The swell of his cock against the tight walls of my throat made my stomach flip, the grunting sounds of him spilling his seed into my belly something that was intensely erotic.

He pulled out, slapping my face gently to make sure I was breathing until I gasped a full breath, awareness coming to my body in a way I'd never experienced. Everywhere he'd pinched and grabbed and slapped and stuffed felt raw and alive. He swiped the head of his cock on my lips, wiping off the last bit of cum and I cracked my eyes to watch him stick the fingers he had buried in my pussy into my mouth. All three fingers entered my throat without fighting or gagging. I fought against my gag reflex as the scent and taste of my desire mixed with his in my mouth. He swiped the pads of his fingers across my tongue before pulling out, straightening himself and putting his cock back into his pants.

I closed my eyes, panting hard.

I heard him move around as he rustled in my coat pockets. Asking my limbs to move was impossible, so I whimpered and begged him nonsensically not to take my wallet. I winced as he dropped it on top of me, making me open my eyes in a panic. I frantically searched through it to make sure that nothing was taken and by the time I realized that nothing was missing, he was walking down the stairs and I watched him put his fingers in his mouth, catching my eye before he turned out of sight.

I groaned, pulling my pants up. The cold wetness of my cum on them sticking to my skin as I carefully righted my jacked around me, tucking my wallet back into my coat pocket and numbly making my way to my apartment.

I fished for my keys and as I shoved the door open, I kicked it shut with relief as I slumped against it again. A peace had settled over me for the first time in a month and my fingers gingerly felt around my body, almost proud to find spots that were swollen and sensitive.

My apartment was quiet and still, the hum of the refrigerator almost pushing me to sleep while my body crashed from the experience. Shoving to my feet, I made sure the door was locked before shedding my clothes by the door and climbing into bed naked. I found one of my smaller dildos on the nightstand, squirt some lube on it and stuffed it inside of myself. I was careful to work it in, my pussy was raw and sensitive from the treatment under his hands but it was turning me on in a way I didn't care to analyze. The orgasm that followed was small but reassuring as I slipped into sleep with the dildo stretching me out.

The next morning came slowly as I opened my eyes, almost confused about where I was. The amber glow of sunset was filtering into my apartment and I frantically grabbed my phone.

I slept for almost 16 hours.

Stretching my arms overhead, parts of my body protested and I was instantly reminded of what happened.

Getting dressed was tough, bruises already starting to form on my breasts and I opted for no bra and an oversized sweatshirt while I padded downstairs to check the mail. A large package was stuffed into the opening of my mailbox and I cradled it under my arm while I grabbed the rest of my mail, curious about what it was.

Once I had gotten back inside my apartment, I dumped the mail and the package down, my mind quiet still. Being used like that excited me in a way I didn't understand and unlike the first time, I wasn't filled with panic after. It was a strange sort of peace.

I picked up the package, ripping it open and gasping in shock. I froze at the counter, my mouth dropping open while I turned the package upside down to dump its contents out.

The first thing to fall out was the same package of cookies, followed by a ridiculous sum of money, wrapped in perfectly measured bank wraps. I counted the bundles while my hands trembled, anxiety buzzing inside of me as I counted almost five thousand dollars in hundreds.

I backed away from the counter frantically as if the money had grown teeth, my shaking hand covering my mouth as I stumbled into the fridge.

I was in

so

much trouble.