© 2004 by MLyons
Author's Note: The following story and the characters within it are purely a product of my imagination, and they are meant to be enjoyed only as a fantasy. Any similarity to real people or events is unintentional.
Reproduction of this story in any form without express written permission from the author is prohibited.
Synopsis of Chapter 4: Cindy's ruthless humiliation of the Professor came to a head when she woke him up, still strapped to his fuck doll, and made him lick her off while she had phone sex with his boss. Cindy introduced toys into the Professor's ass, and they became progressively bigger throughout the day. Finally Cindy handcuffed him and brutally ass fucked him with a rubber strap on dildo. Johnson transformed into a quivering man-cunt, begging without shame for her to fuck him. She stopped and left him desperately unsatisfied before rubbing her cunt off on his face. Her anger with him for what he had done to Sarah Jennings was revealed, along with an inexplicable conflict inside of her. She locked herself in his bedroom while he was left there--handcuffed, "hard-oned", and confused on the floor of his entertainment room.
Chapter 5
Johnson's naked body writhed against the berber carpet of his entertainment room. His raw wrists chafed against the steel cuffs behind his back. Cindy had just ruthlessly butt-fucked him without ceremony, and then disregarded his needs by stuffing his face into her soaked pussy and using it as a living clit-stimulator. She had left him there, used and aching for orgasm with no practical way to get himself off. The carpet scratched against his blindly searching cock; his ass felt a painful emptiness.
He raised his pain-racked body onto his knees and tried to rub his cock on the seat of the plush chair. His matted hair slapped against his forehead while he labored unsuccessfully to find a workable position. He fell back against his legs and surveyed the room, desperate to find something--anything--that he might be able to use. Through sweat-blurred eyes, he spotted Cindy's crumpled pair of panties on the floor.
His reddened knees scraped against the carpet in an effort to reach them. He dropped his torso and crunched his cheek to the floor. The lube bottle chained around his neck smacked against his face and the carpet fibers flexed in reaction to his wheezing breaths.
"Bitch!" his ragged voice cracked. He clenched his teeth around the salty material of her panties in an attempt to unwind them.
All vestiges of rational thought escaped him as he rubbed her soiled underpants against the floor and shook them violently with his neck like a dog would play with his favorite toy. His throat growled in insane frustration. They defied him, remaining a twisted ball of stretchy material, as if bowing to their bratty owner's very will. He spat them to the floor and clumsily slumped his sweaty body on top of them, trying to position his dick to make use of the silky material. They uncooperatively rolled and bunched against the carpet when he thrust his pelvis against them.
"Aauuhh!" He bellowed into the lint-trapped floor like a starving animal. His unmitigated desire stifled any meaningful words. He rolled over onto his back, painfully trapping his hands behind him before forcing his torso to sit up. His head shifted frantically on his shoulders, trying to think anything he could use to satiate this maddening desire. Suddenly, he had the answer!
Its lifeless, silicone frame lay acquiescently in his living room, waiting for him to go in and stuff his raging dick into its pliant holes.
In a sobering moment of horrible realization, his stringy hair dropped in a wet mop over his forehead as he slumped his head in utter revulsion. That he'd even considered touching that fucking doll after what she had put him through with it yanked his animal mind from the clutches of insanity.
The angry cock-hole between his legs peered stiffly up at him. His neck was a tightrope, straining and shaking. He contorted his face into a scream, in defiance of his aching need.
"FUCK!"
The orgiastic moans from the television focused his attention on the sex-saturated environment around him. The images of ripe, female flesh being plugged in various orifices by faceless monster-dicks further taunted his over-stimulated psyche. He looked around at the collection of fuck-toys that littered the carpet and felt like nothing more than a mindless, used receptacle for them. Cindy's veiney strap-on lay in a heap next to his legs--the portion that had been stuffed into his ass still streaked with thick lube, and her portion still shiny with her juices. His stomach tightened with fear and boundless lust at the very thought of her. He would never have imagined that the little girl in his office would be capable of such ruthless sexual enslavement.
He still felt her wet cunt leavings dripping down his face, and his cock once again reacted to the singular animal scent that now marked him as her man-bitch. His ass contracted in terrible pain. His senses were overrun with relentless reminders of what he had become. The thought of what she might do to him next terrified him. The thought that she might leave him in this condition and never come back scared him even more.
With deep, measured breaths, his chaotic mind defiantly willed his uncontrolled arousal into check. He would not give her the satisfaction. He tried to focus on what Cindy had said to him just before sequestering herself in his bedroom.
Sarah! Somehow this all had to do with Sarah.
He stood up, and with his back to the television, awkwardly turned the fucking thing off. He switched off the lights and eased his ravaged ass into the chair, laying his head against the back. With Cindy in his bed and that devil-doll on the couch, he had nowhere else to go. He closed his eyes, feeling a deep sense of emasculation and shame. His mind's eye jumped back to the girl he'd watched getting fucked on the television as Cindy was splitting his ass open with that brutal rubber toy. Her sad eyes had spoken to him somehow, strangely comforting him during the horrible conflict of his ordeal.
They reminded him of the last night he'd spent with Sarah--the look on her face. The mixture of trust and betrayal in her eyes at the moment he took the last of her innocence seemed to sear into his consciousness. His burning sphincter pulsated each time his butt shifted in the chair. A troubled, waking dream took hold of his psyche and he vividly relived the events of that night.
- - - -
"Spread your legs a little more, Sarah."
He could see Sarah Jennings' frightened eyes in the bathroom mirror, a look of focused concentration on her face. Her soft lips were parted, and her breath jumped in and out of her mouth. Her arms were tight with tension, squeezing her bare breasts together and supporting her as she leaned over the bathroom counter. She shifted her legs unsteadily, further taxing the thin panties that stretched across her thighs. Her bottom jutted out behind her, and her legs terminated in a pair of modest, black heels. Aside from the panties they were the only pieces of clothing that remained on her after their dinner together that night. The rest were strewn along the bathroom floor. Johnson focused his attention on the work his finger was doing.
Sticky with the thick lube he'd applied, the rubber band-like entrance of her sphincter had just given way and slipped tightly around his fingertip.
"Wait," she said through her hitched breathing. "Wait!" She reached back and grabbed his hand to pull his finger out.
"Sarah, what did I say?" He grabbed her wrist and guided it back to the counter in front of her.
"Stephen, I'm scared. I'm scared." She swung her head around and looked at him, her brunette curls playing over her shoulder.
"Shhh. What did I say, Sarah?"
"Stay still," she said. "You said I should stay still and you'll go slow."
"That's right, now be a good girl, spread your legs again and lean over."
