The following is a work of erotic fiction and is in no way meant to represent real people or events. It is completely written and owned by me, OfStarsAndDreams.
Contents: F, M/m, fetish, BDSM, blackmail, nonconsensual, degradation, verbal/situational humiliation, insults, raw/emotional, name calling, forced bi, bisexual, infidelity, clothed female nude male, ex-girlfriend, submission, psuedo-cuckold, light masochism, light sadism, oral (M/m, nonconsensual), anal (M/m, nonconsensual), anal creampie (M/m), ass to mouth, documentation without consent, threats, emotional abuse, emotional manipulation, psychological abuse, emotional sadism, gloves, lube, heels, forced crossdressing
Let's begin!
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The cold ground beneath my bare knees was familiar in an entirely unpleasant, trauma inducing way. The hard concrete scraping up the soft skin of my legs and hands, the top sides of my feet. Just walking into this room had made me feel ill, and this was unfathomably worse. It had been a couple weeks ago, but the experience had been thoroughly seared into my consciousness.
It had also been kept fresh by her frequent communications, her tormenting and teasing. I had bought a burner phone, but she refused to send the messages there and seemed to delight in my having wasted my money on it. She would send inappropriate texts and pictures - never of herself, of course - and I had to stay constantly vigilant so that I could respond and delete them immediately so my girlfriend wouldn't find them. I couldn't block her number, either, because I had to respond , as per her demands. It was horrible and humiliating.
"Look at you, so eager to please today. I barely had to order you to take your clothes off at all. Such a slut," her voice drilled into me. More like you have enough on me to ruin me if I don't, you mean. I felt a sharp pain in my side as she dug one of her heels in a little. "Look at me when I talk to you, you dumb bitch!"
I obligingly looked up, though it hurt my stiff neck to do so. She was slowly sliding on a pair of long black latex gloves. Like opera gloves, but in glossy black rubber. I hated her and I wanted her and I hated that I wanted her. I also felt so incredibly guilty. Surprising how something so simple could make me feel like such human trash.
"Would you believe that I got these just for you? I can't believe I wasted so much effort on you back in the day, you're such a pathetic piece of shit. Well now I certainly have you, don't I? Who knew it was actually so easy," she laughed, derisively.
She walked around my prone figure, occasionally kicking me for good measure. I could hear her heels clicking on the concrete. I knew better than to move. Then I felt those damn gloved hands on my ass, parting the cheeks. I had feared something like this, considering how she ended our previous encounter, but the cold and wet sensation of the lube still came as a shock, pouring out over my asshole and dripping down my taint to the floor.
"Be thankful I used lube," she said, mockingly. I wasn't sure whether I should try to look at her as she spoke or not, and decided against it. Then I felt a sudden shock as she veritably impaled me with her latex covered finger. "I SAID BE THANKFUL, YOU DICKLESS WONDER, as in, you know, SAY THANKS TO ME."
"Thank you!" I gasped, reeling from the pain.
"Thank you what?" she jeered, ramming her finger in repeatedly.
I had no clue what she was looking for. My mind was having trouble keeping pace with events, and I randomly babbled the first thing that came to mind. "Thank you, sir!" I immediately regretted it as soon as it was out of my mouth. Gee thanks, Full Metal Jacket. Such an idiot.
Her laughter was immediate and loud. "Holy shit, what a clueless pile of shit you are. But I guess that does show your true colors, doesn't it?" As she spoke she slowly started forcing a second finger into my already aching asshole, wriggling and stretching it. "You don't want a ma'am, do you? You want a sir! You pathetic whore, you want to be a little girly boy, don't you? A cute little sissy whore! My god you are disgusting. You make me want to puke."
She returned to where I could see her. "But, hey, don't you know whores need whore makeup?" she said, kneeling down in front of me and promptly slathering her dirty lubed fingers over my face, including my lips. I pulled away reflexively and she just grabbed my hair and pulled me back, shoving her fingers into my mouth in recompense. "None of that now, you bitch. I own your ass. I'll do whatever I fucking want." I could feel her fingers gliding along my gum line. "Who owns your ass?"
"You do," I struggled to say around her hand.