For a couple days Gretchen's horniness rose and rose, it was the tenth day and her life was devoted to being wet and desperate and filled. It built up slowly but surely, oh the first day seemed as though nothing was off, though that would soon prove to be inaccurate.
When she had awoken, her pussy was clenched and her hips had been in the middle of rocking. It had only been a dream, but one that left her in the most desperate of states, one where nothing in her mind would clear until she came. Running her fingers over her mound, she felt how soaked her pussy was, moving her fingers into herself for just a moment to get them juicy. Moans escaped her lips, the joy inside of her to feel something - nay, anything - inside of her made her hit the edge quickly though it left when she removed her fingers to rub her needy engorged clit. As fast as she could go, Gretchen rubbed her clit, hearing her bed creak as she did so.
So close.
Just a little more.
And...
Gretchen blinked, feeling it just stop. The orgasm was one higher spike above the edge then just nothing, it dropped. Her pussy begged for something to be entered in her while Gretchen whined, her orgasm a waste of time.
It wasn't until she hopped in the shower after work, missing how her slippy wet mess had a purple sheen to it, that she was able to get an orgasm that satisfied her. By filling her pussy with her fingers while she rubbed.
However nothing stays satisfied forever and by the time Gretchen crawled into bed fifteen minutes later, she felt as desperate as she felt before entering the shower. Now the next day was a lot like the same in the morning, but this time her morning orgasm was satisfactory due to her remembering to put her fingers inside of her. This time three instead of two, that evening was a bit different.
Gretchen ran as fast as she could from the elevator to her flat door, anyone who saw her would have thought she needed to pee as she was bouncing up and down struggling to get the key in her lock and was very much in her own little desperate world. Though it wasn't the desperation of having to pee that left her desperate to get inside, instead it was her desperate need to masturbate as the monster between her legs dripped and clenched every few seconds.
Having slammed the door shut behind her with her body, she began throwing her clothes off as though another second with them on would kill her. When she was nude, she dropped to the ground at lightning speed to her knees and kicked off her shoes, ripping off her socks and began to rub her desperate fucking clit.
The sun rose on day four, making the sticky dripping parts on the floor and on Gretchen shine purple. A noise woke Gretchen up, she didn't know what it was or where it came from not even able to tell her alarm clock. Instead her hands just went to her cunt and rubbed the day away. A buzzing noise - her phone - rang through the flat several times never causing Gretchen to even react, she just needed to feel more and more. No longer able to orgasm from her fingers inside, she still had them in her to feel better. Whenever she passed out, she'd just wake up and start rubbing again.
It wasn't until the sixth day that any part of her had the sense to feed herself, but it took herself a few minutes to realise licking her puddle wasn't what that meant. It was a reset in her, eating and taking car of some necessary things, before being in the shower and unable to resist her desperation that had already eaten away at her mind. It was all that mattered.
Dropping to her knees, she touched her mound feeling the dripping wetness, but everything was just smooth. There was no clit, no cunt. Her fingers couldn't feel them. Panic filled Gretchen that day, she needed to edge. She needed to feel something. An hour in front of the mirror did no good, no matter what she did, or how much she could see her pussy was there, she couldn't feel it.
At her wits end four hours later, a slick touch along the mound provided feeling once more. Gretchen could feel her clit, put her fingers in her pussy and she began to cry in relief. An hour lost in her desperation, though even with four fingers inside her, most of her hand, she felt empty. So empty. She needed cock. Cock in her. Gretchen's tongue fell out of her mouth as she thought about all the cocks she'd seen in person and online, any cock. All cock. Her emptiness grew and grew as her desire soared. Then her hand was pushed out of her cunt and her clit went away as did her cunt, the desperate scream that came out of her alerted her neighbours though Gretchen never even realized the knocking wasn't her trying to be able to feel again as the desperation grew.
The seventh day was similar, except she kept looking at porn, pictures of cock, videos of cock, of cock cumming, of cock using cunt. It didn't matter. Gretchen needed it. So empty. Gretchen wanted to be full. For one hour Gretchen was able to actually touch, dropping herself deeper into her world of desperation and deeper into need. It wasn't until the ninth day that Gretchen remembered she had a dildo, despite not being able to touch herself or put her fingers inside her empty, empty useless cunt she tried it. And the dildo slid right in.
Meanwhile her work was unable to get a hold of her, having called her landlord who promised to check the next day when he was in town. But Gretchen had continued to fuck herself with the dildo until the clock struck midnight and the time rolled over to today. Like her fingers before, the dildo was pushed out of her once satisfied and full useful cunt and unable to find its way inside.
Sobbing, Gretchen's need was beyond anything else. Porn playing in her headphones, off her laptop, if she could move into her living room it would be playing on the television there as well. So empty. So useless. Gretchen needed to be filled, she couldn't feel good unless she was filled. Yet the desperation grew and grew.
No sleep led her to now, on her knees on her drenched bed, crying into her pillow, trying to get any feeling inside of her with no luck. Empty. So empty.
A loud knock came on the door, Gretchen merely bucked her hips trying to get anything into her sopping wet empty cunt. A voice called through, Gretchen didn't even register her landlord was making noise, even as her headphones fell off able to hear the woman on porn crying for more making Gretchen whimper.
"Gretchen!" Her head didn't even lift up, as though she didn't even know her own name. It wasn't until her landlord walked into her sights that she saw him.
"Please fuck me!" Gretchen whined. "Please?"
"Excuse me, young lady?"
"Fuck me!" Gretchen cried out loudly. "Please? Please? I'll do anything you want, just fuck me, fill me, fucking stretch me, please! OH GOD! PLEASE!"
"Anything?" he asked with a small smirk, setting down his tool kit. "You'd let me take pictures? Video?"
"Ohhh yes!" Gretchen agreed. "Please, please, fuck me, I'll pose, I'll do anything, everything, please!"
"You'd let me own you?"
"Oh PLEASE! I need to be owned! Please! Please! Fuck me! Own me! Oh fuck! I can't! I NEED TO BE FILLED!" Gretchen started crying.
"You'll do whatever I say whenever I say." No longer was he asking, but Gretchen's dumb little brain didn't know that.
"Yes, everything you say, all things you say, please, fucking fill me!"
"Crawl down to me." She crawled off the bed to his feet. "On your knees, open your mouth wide. Look up at me." she did so. "Suck me off, if you make me cum I'll fuck your useless cunt."
"Oh yes, sir, thank you, sir, please, oh -agahsh dfhd-" she forced his cock into her mouth as far as she could. It was a wonderful day. A slut got her owner and an owner got a desperate obedient little cunt. Although it is curious, would the purple have any effect on him?
