Bastard

When playing with certain kinds of little sluts -- fear is a great motivator. I have a very particular set of skills and those skills are for hire. I get the occasional timid little house mouse asking to hire me for these skills. But usually, the sluts are dark behind the eyes in some of the following ways -- morbidly curious just for curiosities sake, inescapably addicted to rough and insidious fantasies, or the gem of the bunch: experienced; willingly unwilling; no limits.

The timid little things. I turn those away. The curious and the fantasy addicted? I either

satisfy

their curiosity or their fantasy or, I turn them into the gems. I'm very good at what I do. These skills -- though for hire -- are more of a hobby of mine.

Rape is such an ugly word. I would certainly not describe my hobby as being a rapist in my down time. Broad consent was implied, after all. But the fear they were so curious about or addicted to came from not knowing what they were consenting to exactly. They at least knew the basics -- no maiming, killing, or soreness lasting more than a day. And I don't particularly enjoy beating women. Not that I have before! Done quite a few spankings obviously. But these pathetic little creatures can't really take a punch like a man can -- being biologically weaker of course. I was the safe option for them (as compared to teetering down a dimly lit alley in ridiculous high heels and tight as sin dresses).

Some of them I left a wet, sloppy, edged mess, clawing at my ankles, begging me to let them cum as I walked out. Some of them I left unconscious, drenched in sweat and their own cum mixed with mine. Some of them I left teased to the brink of insanity, never even given the release that can come with edging. None of them had control over how I left them. It was a lottery of chance on how I was feeling that day quite honestly.

That's when they were loveliest to me. After I had gotten through with them. Left them messy and turmoiled. Cummed out or strung out.

I was currently lounging around in a darkened country cottage. It sits miles and miles from any neighbor; amid rolling green hills and patches of dense forest and occasional streams and ponds. The occupant I was told is seemingly the timid little house mouse type. Her friend, however, was adamant about the state and depth of her fantasies; proving them to me with text messages and emails -- boring girl talk and the like included. I've done several of these particular types of arrangements, usually as birthday or bachelorette gifts. This little slut wanted the home invasion package. For some man to steal into her house, fuck her against her will, and leave her broken and used. Not very imaginative. Whatever.

I was told her typical Friday night schedule. She would return home at 5:15 pm on the dot from her job as a librarian (

gag me

). Then off to cook dinner and tidy the house. A small meal by herself in the kitchen. A luxuriating bath. Then, she would dress and leave at precisely 7:00 pm. Taking advantage of the extended sunlit hours during this time of year, she would meander through the tall grasses, reading from a book until the waning summer sun proved too feeble for her to continue. She would then return home at around half eight and continue her reading until she felt ready for bed. Whatever.

The boring little slut would be screaming herself raw by the end of the night.

Maybe I could stuff her mouth with a pair of lacey panties. Maybe duct tape over it for good measure. The only downside to this hobby of mine was the screaming. Can't stand screaming. It's either the fake porn-star type fuck-me scream, hoping to entice me to give them more thought after the fact or hoping to entice me into letting them cum (I usually did the opposite, just for shits). Or there were the guttural unhinged screams of an oversensitive, overworked little slut half out of her mind. Didn't like any of it.

Anyways, it was dark out or whatever. So, the little slut should be returning with her stupid book soon. Who the hell walks and reads anyway?

I thought about the slut I took last week. Another home invasion fantasy. Hogtied her. Her screaming nearly did my head in and after five minutes of it, I'd already decided this slut wasn't gonna cum. Lots of sluts have taken my cock up their asses before. There was really no reason for her behavior. I finally just wrapped her head in duct tape to shut her up. Took a little too long to pierce air holes for her nostrils. She

acted

upset as I took my sweet time, cock shoved all the way up her ass as I leaned over her twisted up body to make the cuts. But I could tell she liked the breath play the way her ass was fluttering like a damn hummingbird.

When I was done with her, she watched me all bleary eyed as I gathered my shit. She garbled some kinda B.S. in my direction all tongue tied and hysterical, nearly convulsing with need and panic when she realized I was walkin' out. At that point, I'd made my cash. She'd had the experience. Had nothin' else I owed her. Least of all an orgasm. Poor little slut. Actually, rich little slut. Big ass mansion. She could get her tiny dicked husband to give her a shitty unsatisfying orgasm for all I care.

Anyway, the point of that little digression was that the slut definitely didn't know how to read anymore by the time I was through with her. Fucked her stupid.

Wonder what'll happen with this one. She's a librarian after all.

As I thought that, I moved to stand in the corner of the entranceway of the house. Gonna jump her from behind when she shut the door after her dumb ass stroll in the wilderness in the middle of the god damned night for no earthly fucking reason. No need to fuck this one stupid, I guess, since she already was. Seriously, though? Who the fuck acts like this? What about bears? Shit that goes bump in the night? Hell.

I'm

the shit that goes bump in the night.

Maybe she was some Gertrude sized bitch, though. Maybe she could take a bear. The last slut wasn't much of a looker; flat everywhere. It was like fucking a door. Got my rocks off but still.

Where are all the pretty sluts? I wanna watch one suffer on my cock. Loved that shit.

The door swung open and nearly flattened my fucking face. A fumbling of footsteps in and a small hand appeared in my line of sight from behind the door, dropping a book on the entryway table. Heard some more fumbling, sounded like she was falling all over the fucking place for no reason whiles she was taking her shoes off. She swung the door shut without even turning to look and then I was on her.

Now, I'm a big motherfucker. 6'3" on a bad day. Decked in muscle. And I know I'm a good-fucking-looking guy. Sluts stare wherever I go, not knowing the fuckery I'd put them through just to get my nut. So, first of all, the gall she had to almost break my god damned face.

Second of all...

This slut was tiny -- the top of her head barely just reaching the middle of my chest. Again, pathetic. Who has the audacity to be this short and pitifully weak anymore? Drink some god damned milk for Christ's sake. Take a fucking multivitamin.

This is not likely to take long

, I thought to myself as she struggled in my grasp. Though fairly thin, she had no muscles or tone to speak of along her soft arms. And her rib cage was small as fuck. She was already going slightly limp in my arms. She clearly didn't have the stamina for any kind of extended ordeal. Which was fine. Easy, quick, dirty money.

My hand quickly had her mouth under control. No need to start that screaming shit so god damned early. She didn't scream though. She was breathing hard through her nose. Her breaths tickling the back of my hand. Her cheeks were real soft, too. I had my other arm around her little ass ribs, pushing her forward through the house to the kitchen where my shit was all laid out for her. God

damn

her skin was cold to the touch. The temperature outside must've dropped a little. Probably why she blundered into the house like a lil' bozo. Almost took my face clean off with her nonsense.

Before anything I had to make sure I kept her fucking mouth shut. I couldn't take another screamer so close to that stupid slut from last week. I shoved her white cotton dress up and hooked two fingers onto her panties. She renewed struggling, using her nails to score at my hands and arms. More nonsense. I'm wearing a long sleeved black Henley. Like she's fucking doing anything other than tickling me like maybe a little bit.

I tore those panties off of her and she tried to drop out of my grasp since the hand not covering her stupid mouth was busy. Not having that shit. I hauled her up with an arm wrapped around her ribs, lifting her clean off the floor so her feet dangled by my knees. I caught sight of plain white cotton panties before I moved my hand and pressed them to her lips, shoving her head back against my shoulder for leverage. She didn't budge so I squeezed her nose shut with the panty hand until her mouth flew open to gasp for air. Shoved those panties right in and secured it with a strip of duct tape over her lips.

I threw her down onto the kitchen table, face up and wasting no time. I put a strap of leather over her neck, using a nail gun to secure it to the table. Then I did the same to her wrists at her sides and her ankles, slightly spread for access.

I'd been counting. Less than 3 minutes from door to table. I amaze myself sometimes. I turned to look at my prize, finally. Her stupid bitch friend never got around to sending me a teaser.

My eyes traveled up smooth slim ankles to calves to askew knees. Surprisingly, she had slightly thick thighs. Didn't like that skin and bones shit. A soft bitch was where I found the best nuts. So, they were a nice touch; white cotton dress riding up on them slightly -- giving me

feelings

. Like I wanna bite.

I could make out the curve of her hips. I could tell she was hiding a nice juicy ass under her. Tiny wrists under nailed down leather straps.

And fuck was her waist tiny too. I could probably wrap both hands around it and my fingers would overlap. Her rib cage was goin' up-down, up-down, up-down real fast. She was breathing hard. Which made her god

fucking

damn it round tits bounce a little. Fuck was her dress way too see-through. Probably assumed that out in the middle of nowhere, she didn't need any modesty, could dress how she wanted for her walks in the humid summer evenings.

Jutting collar bones, slim shoulders, thin straps of fabric being used to hold her dress up. Nice smooth neck -- good size to wrap my hands around. Could probably do with some love bites though. Big ones, I decided. Maybe I'd start there. Give her some gentle kisses and licks and then get real mean about it.

Tiny head. Proportional. But shit, everything about her except her ass and tits was small. Took a good look at her face and

fuck. Me.

Damn. She's a pretty one. Dainty as fuck bone structure. High cheekbones, tiny chin, sharp little jaw, tiny nose.

Got to her eyes then and they pierced right into me. Fear. Red rimmed. Wet. She was already sniffling a little, all pathetic like as she looked at me.

Now I know for a fact that I'm very good at reading people. I wouldn't be able to do my job -- my real job -- without being able to read people. And her eyes were telling me something...odd.

I've surprised sluts in parking lots, fucking the life and soul outta them out in the open, pussy and legs hanging out of their trunks whiles I slapped some lube on before diving in. I've done it up their ass in airplane bathrooms; rattling the bathroom door with my pounding thrusts, their tits squished up to the wall, everyone knowing what the fuck went down after I strolled out of there while zipping up my pants and they limped out deliriously with shaking legs and evidence of their orgasm dripping down. Making a slut squirt from anal while actively renewing my mile high club membership was one of the good ones. Too bad she was ugly as fuck or I might've kept her around. Those are victim of opportunity fantasizers.

A laundry room throat and pussy fuck while her kids played down the hall. She bit my hand when I tried to keep her fucking quiet, so she didn't get to cum. She hired me a few more times after that hoping I'd finally give her that earth shattering orgasm she knew only I could give her. Made me change my approach from home invader to salacious stalker. 'I'm coming for you' type threats sent in advance and all that shit. Did her in a gym bathroom. An alley behind a restaurant as her family ate dinner inside. Whispering threats against the dumbass she married.

I'm a vengeful motherfucker, though. Didn't like that she bit me the first time. Each time she hired me, I only made things harder for her; made her more and more desperate. After taking her money five times with no orgasm for her, she's been nearly raw with need. Hounding me. I'm not a fucking puppet so she can stew for a few months. Bad for business? Maybe. But these dumb sluts need to be taught hard lessons sometimes.

Something I've always been aware of though -- these little sluts exuded fear from their eyes. That was a given. But there was always a secret undercurrent of willful anticipation. They all

knew

it was coming; I was coming. Not when or how. But

I

was an inevitability that they sat waiting around for.

The slut in front of me wasn't showing any of that delicious anticipation. Just fear. Raw fear. Like actual real there's a wolf staring me down in my living room fear.

Odd

. Worth exploring? Hm. I left her tied up and went to grab her phone from the front table where she'd left it after coming in from work. Nary a missed call or text. Pathetic. Also, how dumb do you have to be to go traipsing around in the dark in the fucking forest without even bringing your phone with you? Again, whatever.

I returned to juicy slut as I've lovingly decided to call her, and I grabbed one of her little tied up hands -- ignoring her tiny muffled complaint -- and used her thumb print to unlock the phone. Then, I dialed the number I had for my contact who was a friend of hers.

Again, odd. As it ringed, I noticed a name didn't appear on the screen.

"Hello?" The girl I had been speaking to all this time answered. I said nothing. Waiting. "Hel-

lo

?" she said impatiently. I hated girls like that. With the bitchy nasally voices. They liked doing the porn-star type fuck-me screams. Flabbergastingly unsexy. "Who the fuck is this?"

I hung up. Huh. I turned my gaze back to the watery eyed little thing trussed up so prettily in front of me. I cocked my head to the side and grabbed her by the cheeks. "Do you know why I'm here?" Tiny sob. Rapid head shake in the negative. A flutter of long wet eyelashes. Wide eyes. Pretty eyes. Dark, dark, dark chocolate brown. Like moist soil. Flecks of black cherry wood tones adding a richness in expression that made me very uncomfortable. Lots of nature based descriptives there. Could I be any more unoriginal if I tried? Whatever.

I started going through her phone. My hand drifting down her neck from her cheeks and settling over one of her tits. Full. Lost in thought, I gripped. Then I pinched the hard nub pointing from underneath the soft white cotton of her dress. She clearly had no idea why I was there. I opened the mail app on her phone. Email address didn't match the one on the screenshots the friend had sent.

Huh

.

I switched to her other nipple and didn't work my way up. Just straight tight grip on her as I went to check her messages. Now the screenshots sent my way were full of stupid ass yellow emojis and shit. This slut didn't use them at all. In the screenshots, she was a cusser -- erring on the vulgar side. But her texts were tame and infrequent. Some loose first names but none matching the girl who'd organized this shit. There were a couple guys, one Max who seemed to be a co-worker.

Now what kind of man decides to be a fucking librarian?

Anyways, there was some other fucker at the bottom. Brent whoever. What a stupid as fuck name. And his messages were rude as all shit, crossing the line from cruel to abusive several times over. From what I could tell, they'd been involved at some point and she left him and 'would regret it' according to him. I checked on his contact info and it showed she'd blocked him at some point. Good I guess. Sounded like a tool.

Hm. All very odd.

The girl I talked to who had been the driving organizer of this little play date was clearly not her friend as they didn't even have each other's phone numbers in their phones. The email address juicy slut supposedly used to send those emails to her so-called friend wasn't even on hers. The way 'she' talked in the screenshots was completely unlike the way she talked to literally everyone over text. So obviously, the emails and texts were faked, and this was some kind of setup. Wonder who this bitch has pissed off that bad.

A series of quick breaths through the girls nose pulled me from my reverie. And I realized I was rolling her little nipple quite aggressively. I watched my fingers, rolling and tugging -- hard, soft, hard, hard, soft. My eyes caught hers then. And there was something there. She liked what I was doing. She didn't want to like it. I cocked an eyebrow. Hm. Maybe I could get something out of this after all. I'd deal with the other shit later. This slut was too fucking sweet to just walk away from.

Time for an exploration. Non-invasive of course. If I got the right vibe off her, I was staying.

The hand not rolling and pinching the girls nipple cupped over her duct taped mouth and nose. Then I squeezed. Watery eyes widened. Her brows bunched worriedly. I pinched her nipple harder. Her neck strained. Her fingers scratched at the kitchen table. She arched her back as much as she could in her predicament. The tiniest prettiest whine came from her stuffed mouth. I gave her one long pinch, which kept her bowed off the table the entire time. I like the arch of her back like that. I could see I was crossing the point of no return. She'd pass out soon.

I moved on to roughly groping her tits. So

soft

. More than a handful, they pillowed between my fingers. She settled slightly as she almost faded away and I released my hold on her face. She took some more quick breaths through her nose. Her eyes were bright beneath the tears. Her cheeks were stained pink. She looked at me with something akin to wonder and confusion. She

did

like it.

"Did you like that, princess?"

Princess?

Where the fuck did that come from? It sounded weird as shit, especially with my deep ass voice. No. This was juicy slut.

She took a few more puffs through her nose and frantically shook her head in the negative.

"I think you liked it," I said, leaning down. I licked her nipple through her thin as fuck dress and she jumped, making her tits bounce all pretty like. She was really breathing hard. I straightened up to look her in the eye. "I would've stopped all this if you didn't react like that," I said. "I can tell you like it, and do you know what that makes me think?"

Little head shaking no. I gripped both nipples hard now and she whimpered cutely. "Makes me think you want me to keep going." I rolled and tugged them, and she kept on with the whimpering. Whining. The second I saw her twist her hips slightly, almost as if trying to rub her thighs together but then stopping after thinking about it, I knew I had her. I stepped away and pulled a knife from the holder on the kitchen counter.

Her eyes widened and she went back to quickly shaking her head no. I dragged the back of it down between her tits to her where her dress dipped slightly into her belly button. She was trembling. I did it slowly, taking several breaths to get the point down her body. Then I pulled the top of her dress away from her skin and sliced through it all the way down to the hem. It pooled at her sides and fuck me yet again.