The Cottage: Part 5

--Author note:

I wish I could tell you all when and how these stories will end, but I'm usually not sure. As I write the story, I start coming up with more ideas to add in. I appreciate your comments and support. I can confirm that this is the final installment in the cottage series, although I might consider a Return someday--

Where we left off:

I am bent over the oak table in the little cabin, blindfolded, gagged, plugged, and wearing just my stretchy little ringed harness. MV has just finished fucking me, leading me to the edge of climax but not allowing me to orgasm before he finishes and pulls out. I'm rolling on some kind of powerful, unknown, and unwanted aphrodesiac (but...also starting to let my inner slut through), I'm unbelievably desperate for dick.

"..MV pulled out, leaving me drenched and wanting. I stood bent over, blindfolded, and bound to the table, shuddering at what was happening to me. I barely felt the toys still inside of me as I throbbed with unmet need. I began to be afraid that they were going to never let me come. But all I could do was wait..."

It felt like an eternity but was probably just a few seconds. I knew that crying through my gag might seem too demanding, so I leaned into the table and bounced my ass, begging for more the best way I could think of.

It seemed to work, as I felt MV's hands back on me, gliding his fingers again up my inner thigh. I tried to calm my breathing even as all I could think of was how to get him to shove those fingers up inside me.

I couldn't help but whimper a bit through the gag when I got my wish. My cunt throbbed with pleasure at the slight relief in my desperation as he pressed his middle and ring fingers inside me, curving them into me slightly as he glided his hand in and out of me. "There, Princess. I know what you need, see? You just have to be patient for a while longer."

Stranger's voice. I hadn't even realized he was the one toying with me; I had thought it was still MV, since he had just fucked me. It somehow shamed me more that I didn't even know which man was assaulting me.

Stranger's hands. Yes, he did know what I needed. I hated him. The man who drugged me, bound me, degraded me, used me, and...pleasured me. I hated that he had explored me like a posession, finding out what my body responded to and forcing those responses on me. I hated that I needed his hands. As a few more tears were absorbed into my blindfold, my shame and my hatred here nothing compared to the needs of my body. And Stranger knew those needs; knew them better even than I did.

To get what I needed, I tried to be a good, patient slut. I tried to be content with the mild relief that his fingering brought to my aching pussy. I tried to be grateful for the extra waves of pleasure he occasionally sent when he toyed with the plug in my ass. I tried so hard not to think of how much I wished his fingers were his cock instead.

MV's voice now, somewhere not far off to my right. "Man, I just love the look of a bound slut who wants it bad." I felt the bonds to my hands loosen, freeing me from the table though the leather cuffs stayed on my wrists, ready to bind again.

I remained in place, Stranger was still sliding his fingers in and out of me. My tits had been pressed into the wood but I raised myself carefully only my elbows once I felt a hand starting to stroke the side of my left breast.

Stranger continued to finger me with one hand. His other hand massaged my tit. MV stroked the nipple of my other one. I was on fire with pleasure and somehow also need. My nipples ached and burned, a hollow echo of the painful throbbing of my pussy, but still their own kind of torture. I arched my back so that my body was as accessible as possible. I needed the relief of their touch. Stranger spoke again,

"Yes, Princess. You've been such a good little slut. I love how your whore-body responds to my touch even when you wish it wouldn't."

He was right. I loved being petted and pleasured by them even as I was frustrated about not getting more.

They kept stroking my tits, my thighs, and my ass, and Stranger kept fingering me as he continued, "You've loved being our entertainment, I can see here"-- he thrust his fingers in a little harder as I tried and failed to prevent myself from humping his hand--"You're wet as fuck, Princess. You love being a cunt for us to play with, and now I'm going to reward you."

It didnt feel like a reward, though. He took his hand out of me! He and MV stopped stroking my body. My nipples ached, and I shook. I was so empty. I wanted to stand up, push back off the table, and get someone, something, back inside of my desperate sex.

I could have tried. I wasn't tied down, for once. But I was still under control, still blindfolded, gagged, and plugged. They hadn't said I could move, and I didn't dare: my best, my ONLY, hope was that they would fuck me again.

The empty, driving need from my pussy was terrible. It was physically painful how much I needed cock.

I held my self as still as I possibly could. A hand, I think it was Stranger's, rested on my ass cheek. Suddenly, I felt the thick, blunt head of his cock sliding along the outer folds of my soaked entrance. It was too much for me, I had to get mounted. I moved back towards him, angling my hips to drive myself onto his dick.

WHACK! He slapped my ass and must have stepped backward a little, because I couldn't feel even the barest touch of the head his dick anymore.

"Naughty Princess!" said Stranger, slapping my ass a second time for good measure. "I know you want it bad, but you're going to have to wait until I give it to you my little whore."

I hadn't meant to be a bad slut, I just really needed his cock! Disappointed and desperate, I resumed my position on the table, legs spread and tits out.

His hand rested again on the stinging cheek of my ass as the head of his cock made contact again with my entrance.

I shivered, holding my body as still as I was able, savoring the feeling of his thickness just parting my folds and sliding along the length of my slit. It was all I could do to wait, all I could think about was finally getting him inside me.

He continued relentlessly teasing my aching cunt, probing the head of his cock ever deeper but still mostly up and down along the length of my folds, rubbing the now-wet tip up against my clit in ways that caused so much pleasure my blindfolded vision went white, but stopping all too soon.

Finally, when I thought that I couldn't take any more of the sweet torture of Stranger's cock, he finally sank about half his length inside me. It wasn't enough.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I didn't move my shivering body, other than squeezing the walls if my soaking cunt against the thick girth. But I made noises. I couldn't help the sounds I made through my gag anymore than I could help wanting him to fuck me.

I was an animal in heat now. My senses had been heightened through drugs, binding, blindfolding, and teasing until I existed only on a plane of instinct. I grunted, moaned, even drooled a little into my gag, ecstatic on finally getting impaled again on a cock.

I continued writhing and moaning softly as my body stretched around the heavy thickness of his dick. He was entering me slowly, incompletely, and withdrawing. I loved the feel of him pushing inside of me, but hated the throbbing ache of his withdrawal.

Finally, he sank inside me deeply, hands on my ass, spreading my cheeks slightly to ensure he could be seated as far into me as possible.

The pleasure was intense, unparalleled. I had never felt as good in my entire life as I felt right then, bent over the table and stuffed by this man's dick. He was fucking me deeply now, his balls slapping softly as he moved in and out of me at a leisurely speed, gradually increasing his pace.

I was lost in sensation as he used me. My harness sent waves of delicious fire racing across my skin. My gag helped me behave; I could lick and suck on it to help relieve some of the intense need I felt. The plug in my ass helped remind me how stuffed I was every time Stranger pushed up against me.

'I was made to get fucked like this.'

The thought kept repeating itself in my head, warring with the shame I still felt, somewhere, at how I was made a slave I to my needs.

I was also ashamed at how proud I felt as he gripped me tighter and climaxed. And ashamed that I was sad he was wearing protection, so I couldn't feel him cum inside me.

"There, Princess. You're a great fucking ride," he panted, pulling out and leaving me empty AGAIN. "Come here, slut, you've earned this."

He moved away, guiding my stumbling body away from the table, holding me facing in his direction, I heard something scrape lightly across the wood floor.

Hands were on my back and ass now, MV behind me, Stranger holding my hands gently by the wrists. I was blind with need, unable to form a coherent thought. But thankfully, I didn't need to.

The men guided me toward where I could feel that one of them, I was fairly sure it was Stranger, was seated in a chair.

I didn't need any urging. I seated myself in his lap, astride and mounted on his cock. Finally, again I was full, but needed to feel that length going in and out of me. But this time, I could actually ride.

And I did. I drove myself onto his dick again and again, unable to get enough of its thickness. I reveled in feeling him sliding in and out, feeling the stretch and pressure of the invasion into my cunt.

I rode him mindlessly, pleasure and desperation driving me. There were hands on my tits again. My plug pressed into my ass as I slid up and down his thick shaft. I had never felt so full, had never needed to be filled like this, before.

The man I was riding had his hand placed so I could rub my clit against his fingers as I humped him. In a world of sensation, I couldn't be sure, but I doubted it was long before I climaxed, squealing into my gag. I sagged in his lap, still spitted on his cock.

My need to get fucked now sated, my feelings of shame were rapidly returning. I was still a tied up, blindfolded sex toy. Just one that was able to think a bit clearer now.

'I was made to get fucked like this,' I shuddered at the previous thought that had been ringing through my head.

Stranger kept me on his lap, his cock still shoved into my pussy. He pulled my body tightly to him and began rolling his hips ever so slightly. "There, Princess. See? Good girls get to feel good."

His now gentle fucking, the sensation of his cock rocking inside me...the desire was coming back. The pleasure radiating from my cunt began to be edged with deeper need. I whimpered in frustration and shame as I felt my reactions to him changing. My desperate need for cock was returning with each roll of Stranger's hips. It was so, so good. But now that too-familiar feeling was coming back: I wanted more.

'I was made to get fucked like this.'

The rest of the night became a blurred memory. My blindfold and gag remained in place, but at some point later they removed my butt plug to replace it with fingers and cocks.

It was just a haze of pleasure, desire, and shame. The men fucked me in every position, bending me over things, kneeing my thighs apart, seating me over their dicks...I have no idea how long it went on. Maybe they had drunk the tea, too.

When they grew tired of fucking me they still toyed with my body, inserting dildos and plugs into my ass and pussy, teasing and forcing me to orgasm again and again. They laughed and praised me every time one of them had me panting and shuddering for him. They called me a slut, a bitch in heat, and a whore.

The only two emotions I felt, or remember feeling, were shame and pleasure. Even desire had been eclipsed. I would just wait wherever they had placed me, unsuccessfully wiling myself to at least try and stop them. I'd just wait as they tried new toys, new approaches, new touches, laughing and telling my what a good slut I was every time they were able to coax my body into shuddering again and again to their attentions.

The last thing I remember from that night was lying on the bed. I was naked by then, no longer gagged, but still blindfolded. I could feel a man on each side of my body, some hands still gently stroking my curves. I no longer bothered to try to differentiate the men.

I was exhausted, my body ached from being their plaything, and my mind from the shock and emotional torment. I felt delirious, but suspected that was the drug.

As they stroked me, I writhed slightly in reluctant, exhausted pleasure. One of them manipulated something inside my abused cunt, and I could feel some vibrations when he pressed it against my clit.

Somehow, my clit never became too sensitive. It was one of the many horrors of this ordeal that every time they touched me, every time they forced me to squeal and shudder for their pleasure, my body was immediately ready to let it happen again. I was ready for use.

It wasn't long before I was whimpering tiredly, in the throes of another orgasm...but so tired...

----

I am pretty sure I just fell asleep after that. Or I simply blacked out. They had clearly kept doing anything they wanted with me, because when I woke up I was nude, but clean, my hair still somewhat damp. I was grateful for that but I was it could have happened without my remembering it or waking. But of all the things that had just happened to me it was definitely not a priority.

I didn't doubt for a second that the violations had happened. The cabin was empty except for me, and was straightened up neatly. But the sheets had been removed from the mattress, I had just slept under a blanket.

Plus, I could see a gift basket had been left for me. I couldn't see everything in it from across the small room, but I could make out two things: one was a coupon for 10% off my next stay. The other thing I could see clearly was the location of the basket. It sat on the seat of a big leather saddle, propped up against a thick dildo that came up from the center.

I got out of bed, aching, and went to go take the basket off the saddle.

Without even thinking about it, I picked up the basket, and mounted up onto the saddle. I was astride the dildo in moments, and I could feel myself relax a little as I rode it gently and rummaged through the basket.

There was the coupon I had seen, offering me money off my next stay. A bath bomb, some massage lotion, and a small sachet of herbal tea.

My body went cold at the sight of the tea. The tea that made me degrade myself. The tea that made me, I now realized, casually hump a homemade sybian that I had been tied to like an animal the night before. The tea that made it unable for me to stop riding this toy even as I shuddered at my own behavior.

At least, I hoped it was the tea that was making me do this. But, how long since I had last had it? It had to have been 15 hours?

What even was that stuff?

How long would these effects last?

Was it permanent?

or...

Was I maybe just a slut and the tea allowed me to let it happen?

I guess I wouldn't know the answers to any of it for a while. So I kept riding until I couldn't anymore, then slept again.

I woke in the early afternoon, packed my things, and drove away

the cottage.

I was sure I would be back to normal soon. I was so sure. It was just shock from the violation, from the drug.

I was sure I would be back to normal soon, but I also packed that coupon in my bag.

'I was made to get fucked like that.'

It entered my thoughts as I drove away, and even I didn't know what I meant by it.

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The end