The Gift 171

When Krissy set up her date for Friday night, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. She should have known there was something wrong by the simple fact that her date, based on their extensive online conversations, was far too perfect to be real. That should have been the first clue. He seemed to know exactly what she needed and said all the right things; almost as though he knew her.

For starters, Krissy was contacted by many men online, and they usually all said the same lame-ass things like, 'Looking?" and "I'd use you so hard," but fell silent whenever she asked them to elaborate. But not this guy. His words were so specific that he got her attention almost immediately.

"I'm going to own you."

Many guys talked about sexual ownership but very few had any idea of what it meant or how to achieve it, so Krissy sort of blew it off as sex talk. Still, she was curious to see if this man had anything interesting to say, so she asked, "Oh yeah, and how would you do that?"

He answered, "For starters I'm going to collar you, cuff you, and leave you alone in the dark with a huge plug up your ass, so you can think about what I'm going to do to you."

Krissy found herself blushing at her computer screen; that was exactly the sort of thing that made her panties wet. But still, there was a good chance that it was just talk. "So," she asked, "what happens after you've left me alone in the dark to think about it?"

Now, most guys would have said something along the lines of, "I'd fuck your throat," but not this guy. Instead, he said, "I'm going to make you crawl to me on your hands and knees, and then I'm going to film you sucking my cock for as long as it takes until I cum. And I'm going to put a leash on you and wrap it around my waist so you can't get my cock out of your mouth until I release you."

Krissy was hooked from that point on.

She continued to chat with him every night for almost a month, and she was never disappointed. This man, whoever he was, seemed to know exactly what she wanted to hear as though he could read her mind. Several times she hadn't felt like talking about anything sexual, and he seemed to know it, shifting the conversation to other things that interested her like movies and old cars. Then, other times when she was feeling frisky, he'd tell her some of the fantasies he'd been having about her, and once again the things he said seemed to come right out of her own thoughts. But the absolute strangest part about this man was that after 3 weeks of nightly chats with her, he'd never dropped a cock-pic on her. Many of the men who contacted her used such pics as their greeting, but not this man; after hours and hours of chatting with her he still hadn't produced one, and it was beginning to worry her. She was beginning to suspect that she either couldn't get it hard, or that he was embarrassed by the size. So finally, she asked to see it.

What he showed her not only made her wet, but it also made up her mind about seeing him in person, and sealed her fate.

He was easily 10 inches long and thick as a kolbassa. His cock and balls were shaved completely bare and standing up from his lap like a fleshy piece of iron. "You like that?" he asked.

"Oh fuck yeah!" Krissy had responded.

"Then you're going to love this . . ."

He sent her a short video that showed him from the shoulders down and sitting in a recliner naked with his massive cock in one hand as he jerked himself off. "This is for you, Krissy," he said on the video, right before he began to shoot long thick ropes of cum all over like a powerful hose left unattended. When he was finished, he left her with another thought, "Next time it's going in your mouth."

Krissy was sold.

"Okay, let's do this."

Seeming to play coy, he asked, "Do what exactly?"

"You know," she answered, "have some fun together?"

"Oh . . . you think I'm going to let you have fun?" he'd asked.

"Sure," Krissy said, perplexed. "Aren't you?"

"Oh Krissy, Krissy, Krissy," he said. "If I come over there, you will be working harder than you ever have before. I intend to be a gentleman and wait until you're ready to begin, but once we do you'll have no say in what I do to you. You'll be under my control until I'm finished with you, and I can pretty much guarantee that none of it will be fun. Not for you it won't."

He left the last remark hanging in cyberspace between them and refused to say more until she broke the silence. "Are you still there?"

He replied, "I am. I'm waiting for your answer. Are you ready to serve me?"

Saying "Yes" was probably the most exciting (and the stupidest) thing Krissy had ever done.

They set their "date" for 9pm the next night, and Krissy spent most of the day transforming into the perfect little slut for him. Thankfully, he made it easier for her by selecting an outfit from her profile pics and telling her he wanted her to wear it for him. It was a pink cotton romper with a detachable skirt and white knee-high socks and the words "Daddy's Little Girl," written across the ass. He'd only worn it a couple of times to take some pics, and no man had ever seen him in it.

The guy who'd bought it for him turned out to be a real jerk and decided that spending $50 on Krissy meant that he could berate and insult her. It was too bad too because, like his mystery date, the guy had been hung like a horse and got off on dominating sissies like Krissy, but he had zero respect for her limits, or her feelings. But when his new friend chose that particular outfit for her to wear, it felt like it was meant to be.

As she put it on in preparation for their date, she was nearly overwhelmed by how vulnerable it made her feel. She'd been dressing in slutty outfits for men for a long time, but this one made her feel naked, in fact she'd almost rather be naked than to wear it, and that was what made it so damned exciting, made even more erotic by the fact that this stranger had selected it specifically.

After first making sure her bedroom was presentable and that the 4-point restraints running under her mattress were both visible and accessible, Krissy painted her eyelids and lips to match the outfit, straightened her hair and tied it into pig-tails, poured herself a glass of wine and waited for the knock on her door.

Her date arrived promptly at 9, and when she opened the door for him he gave her a long look from top to bottom before he entered, smiling. "Well hello there, Krissy. You look good enough to eat."

Blushing, she stepped aside and let him in, closing and locking the door after she'd passed through it. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

Noticing the half-empty glass of wine on the coffee table, he said, "I'll have what you're having."

"Not at all," she said, her cheeks practically burning at his smile. "Make yourself at home, I'll be right back."

She turned and headed towards her kitchen, and his gaze upon her ass was so unabashed and intense that for a moment she could almost feel his hands on her from across the apartment. When she returned with his glass of wine she found him seated on her sofa, and he was making a circling gesture on the empty space beside him. "Come sit beside me," he said, without a hint of doubt that she would.

She sat beside him with her knees together, but the way he looked at her made her feel as though he was forcing her knees apart and exposing her warmest places with thoughts of violations on his mind.

"You're very passable as a female," he told her, seemingly being honest. "It's a shame you've never gone out in public like this, you'd turn some heads for sure."

Thought it was meant as a compliment the remark troubled her; she didn't even recall ever telling him that she'd never gone out in public as a female, but perhaps she had, or maybe he'd just made a logical assumption that she hadn't? But before she could spend more than a few seconds wondering about that, he commanded her full attention with the question: "What do you think I should do to someone like you?"

It was odd the way he phrased it to say the least, half compliment and half insult . . . to which she could only reply, "I don't know."

He smiled, "Well I do." He took one of the cushions from the sofa and dropped it on the floor between his feet before pointing down at it. "Sit there."

Reluctantly, Krissy slid off of the sofa and sat on the pillow and hugged her knees to her chest. Looking up at him, she couldn't help but notice that the bulge in his pants was getting larger by the minute. He unbuckled his belt, lowered his zipper, and pulled out his cock which was hard and shaved bald. "Suck it, slut," he said coldly.

Krissy was getting a very bad feeling about this man, and as she took his cock in her grip and began to jerk him off she cursed herself for her error in judgement; one that she'd made many times before. It seemed that no matter how many times it happened, she still hadn't learned how to spot the creeps, at least not until they were sitting in her living room with their cocks out. And, unfortunately for her, the only way to get them out of her apartment was to make them cum, after which she'd block them from contacting her again and move on with her life until she found herself making the same mistake once again with another creep. Just like this guy.

As if Krissy needed further convincing that she'd invited a creep into her home once again, the man slapped her hand off of his cock and said, "If I wanted a fucking handjob I'd do it myself."

She reluctantly leaned forward and opened her mouth, and the man took that as an invitation to grab both sides of her head and shove it down on his cock. "That's it," he moaned as he pumped her head up and down, "suck it you fucking slut."

Krissy was vaguely aware that someone was coming down the stairs towards her apartment, but she assumed that it was someone visiting the old lady across the hall from her. That is, right up until the moment when Krissy heard her door open and close as someone entered her apartment. She immediately tried to sit up but the man on her sofa held her head tightly and continued to fuck her mouth as the heavy thud of footsteps approached the living room. Krissy planted her hands on the sofa and pushed herself off of the man's lap while he smiled down at her, amused by her struggle. Suddenly he released her head and gave her a shove, sending her tumbling backwards onto the living room floor, and at the feet of the man who'd just come into her apartment.

She recognized him immediately as probably the one of the biggest if not the biggest creep she'd ever made the mistake of inviting into her apartment. Shortly after that he'd sent her the pink outfit she was wearing and demanded to see her in it, and she'd responded by blocking his number. His name was Steve, and Krissy had hoped to never see him again.

"Well, well, well," Steve said, sneering down at her. "I see you've met my friend, Bob."

Krissy looked up at the man on her sofa as he stuffed his cock back into his pants and rose to his feet. "You were right about this one, Steve," he said. "She gives a lousy blowjob."

She rolled over and scrambled past Steve towards her bedroom, hoping to get a solid oak door between herself and the men in her apartment. She made it to the bedroom, but, to her horror, the two men came right in with her and closed the door behind them. "Get OUT of here, both of you!" she shrieked at them as they backed her into a corner until there was no place left for her to go.

"Yeah we'll leave," Steve said, plainly. "As soon as we're done with you, and after you've made good on our arrangement."

"We don't HAVE an arrangement, Steve. You and your friend need to leave . . . "

"Oh yes we do," he hissed at her, stepping in close until she was practically jammed into the corner of the room. "You said so in your profile . . . any man buys you a sexy outfit, he gets to fuck you in it. I bought the one you're wearing, and you didn't fuck me."

"Bullshit!" Krissy snapped at him. "You bought it after I said we were through. I never would have accepted it if you had asked me before you sent it here. By the time I realized it was from you I'd already worn it, but that does NOT give you the right . . ."

Steve slapped her across the face before she could finish the thought. "Shut the fuck up, Krissy," he growled at her. "Get on the bed and do as you're fucking told."

When Krissy didn't move right away, Bob grabbed her by the back of the neck and shoved her down on the mattress. That's when she noticed the restraints she'd attached to the bed for her "date," which now seemed like a very bad idea.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked of them both.

"Is she still talking?" Bob asked Steve.

"Sure sounds like it," Steve answered.

"What should we do about that?"

Steve grinned, "I know just the thing . . . grab her legs."

Both men descended upon her, flipping her face down and using their combined bodyweight to pin her to the mattress. Krissy did her best to fight them off but from the moment Steve got one of her wrists cuffed, it was a lost cause. Bob cuffed one of her ankles, Steve got her other wrist, and then Bob cuffed her other ankle and it was all over. Both men climbed off of the bed and watched her struggle against the restraints, then Steve whispered something to Bob and he left the room. That's when she realized that she had neglected to do the one thing that could save her from these men . . . she began to scream. "Help!! Somebody help me!!"

Apparently, this is what Steve had been expecting because just then Bob turned on the television and jacked up the volume until it drowned out her screams. He returned to the bedroom smiling and closed the door behind him.

"That's better," Steve said, unbuckling his belt.

"Steve . . . whatever you're thinking about doing, don't do it. I'm not kidding!"

Bob appeared at the side of the bed, rubbing his hard-on through his pants. "Now . . . where were we?"

"Put that thing anywhere near my mouth and I'll bite it right the fuck off," Krissy warned through fresh tears.

At this both men laughed, and Steve slid off his belt and folded it in half. "Sounds like someone still isn't getting the message. I guess we're going to have to teach her a little lesson."

Steve reached down under her skirt and between Krissy's legs until he found the snaps holding her crotch closed and yanked them open, exposing her naked ass.

"No Steve! Don't do that!" she begged.

Krissy heard the crack of the belt striking her flesh a full second before her brain registered the pain of the blow. When it did, she let out a cry of surprise and fear, to which Steve responded with another blow with the belt, and then another, and another . . . each harder and sharper than the last. She thrashed and fought against the restraints until she was exhausted and could do nothing but lie there, flinching against the next blow. Steve continued to flog her defenseless ass with his belt until she collapsed onto the mattress, unable to do anything but cry, at which point the blows stopped coming.

"There," Steve said from behind her, "that's better. Are you going to behave yourself?"

When Krissy didn't answer fast enough, Steve showed him he wasn't opposed to whipping her some more by giving her another good whack with his belt. She yelped and answered, "Yes! I'll behave, YES!"

"Good," he said. "Now you're going to suck Bob's cock, and I don't want to hear any complaints, got it?" he said, accentuating his question with another slap with the belt.

"Yes, okay!"

Smiling at his good fortune, Bob stripped naked from the waist down and climbed onto the bed with her, sitting upright with his back against the headboard with his cock mere inches from her face. "Can't use your hands now, can you slut?" he asked redundantly.

She opened her mouth and closed her eyes.

Just as he'd done on the sofa, Bob began using her face as nothing more than an inanimate object built for but one purpose: a warm and wet orifice for him to stick his cock into. While most men would have preferred to lay back and let Krissy do all the work, Bob liked to use people's faces like one of those rubberized sex-toys you find advertised in the backs of mens' magazines, often designed (allegedly) from the vaginas and assholes of adult film stars. That's what Krissy felt like at that moment; a fuck-toy.

Meanwhile, Steve busied himself with rummaging through Krissy's drawers in search of things to use on her. The trouble was, since he'd been there once before he knew exactly what she had, and where she kept it. He tossed them onto the bed as he found them; a bottle of lube and a ball-gag from her nightstand, a small leather paddle from her underwear drawer, and a big fat butt-plug from under her bed.

Krissy felt him climb onto the bed behind her and used his thighs to nudge her knees farther apart. She jumped involuntarily as she felt him slap a palmful of cold wet lube onto her asshole, after which he began probing her with two fingers. "There it is," Steve groaned. "Man . . . you are TIGHT. I think we'd better loosen you up a little first."

He didn't waste any time working the butt-plug into her; instead he found the sweet spot, and shoved it into her up to the flattened base in one swift motion, causing her to cry out in pain and surprise from around the cock in her mouth. "That's better," he said as he began to fuck her with the plug in spite of her cries, "got to stretch you out a little so we don't cum too fast."

She shook her head NO, but if they noticed they made no acknowledgement of it as they abused her from both ends. Not long after, Bob began to let out long moaning noises, growing louder each time until about the fourth time when he began to spurt hot cum into the back of Krissy's throat. When he was finished, he added insult to injury by pulling his cock out of her mouth and slapping her across the face with it several times before climbing off of the bed. Steve stopped fucking her with the plug and buried it in her before he reached around both sides of her head and jammed the ball-gag into her mouth, securing the leather straps tight around her head so that she couldn't spit it out.

When he was done and he was climbing off of her, he said, "Come on, Bob. Let's take a break and give her some time to think about it."

Both men exited, turning off the light and closing the door behind them, leaving her alone in the dark with Bob's cum sliding into her belly and her ass spasming involuntarily around the thick plug inside of her. And Bob had been right; tied as she was there was nothing for her to do but think about her predicament, and wonder what would happen to her next. She could hear them laughing and talking over the sound of the television intermixed with the clinking of beer bottles they'd taken from her fridge.

She fought to bring her wrists together so that she could take off one of her restraints . . . that's all it would take to free herself, just one. But that was the problem with the restraints running under her mattress; pulling on her right restraint moved her left arm farther away, and pulling on her left restraint pulled her right wrist out of reach. Like it or not, there was only one way to get the restraints off and it involved the men in the other room.

The men rejoined her an hour or two later (she couldn't say for sure,) and she was blinded temporarily when they turned on the lights in her bedroom. "There she is," Steve said sarcastically, as though he hadn't expected to find her there. "Still awake?"

She let out a sigh and shook her head at the absurdity of the question. From behind her, she heard the ringing of Steve's belt buckle and braced herself for another painful flogging. "Take the gag out of her mouth," he instructed Bob.