wrongonesin:

They were’t robbers. The tools they’d brought weren’t for breaking in to houses. They were for breaking women.  After they’d tied me and mostly stripped me they went to work. They were strong, and patient, and knew how to use their tools.

The first orgasm they forced from me took the longest. I fought the most. But I couldn’t stop it. They had time, and skill, and used both, and made me cum on an insanely buzzing toy pressed into my clit. But that was only the first.

With barely any rest, they started on me again. Different tools, different places, different positions. They made me cum, again, and again, until I was completely exhausted – unable to even moan. By that time, they’d removed every stitch of my clothing and only my wrists were bound. That, and their strong restraining hands had been more than enough up until that point.

Barely awake, in an overloaded daze I felt them lift and lay me on my bed, and finally loosen the rope around my wrists. They were finally done with me?

No. When I opened my eyes I saw one of them kneeling between my legs, naked from the waist down, hard cock pointed at me. He moved slowly, not touching at all, lowering himself to me.

I couldn’t move. I had no restraints, nothing stopping me from pushing rolling away, but I had no strength, and no will. All I could do was watch the head of the cock lower to me, nuzzle my slit, and gently, slowly push its way into me. The intruder fucked me slowly, passionately, like a lover. As if he was making love to me. He even bent over me and kissed me deeply as he rooted in me and came. I could barely moan into his mouth.

He withdrew from me slowly, almost regretfully, but his parter was there to replace him. He came to me the same way. As if consummating a mutual love. I could no more move away from him as his predecessor as his cock split my cum-dripping slit and filled me again. As he fucked me this one suckled each of my nipples in turn. His only contacts with me were his lips, and his cock – and hips when he hilted in me.

And heaven help me if after all this, all the hyperstimulation and overload and now use by two strangers, but I didn’t cum one more time. Maybe their final gentleness, earnestness, had fooled me. But it welled up in me, and with the last bits of my strength, my hips raised to his descending shaft and my inner muscles gripped him spasmodically. 

His growl of approval was the last thing I heard. His cock throbbing inside me, pumping his cum deep as I milked it, and lips on mine, in passionate kiss were the last things I felt.

I woke up hours later, alone, in a dark, empty house. When I tried to move, I felt the toy strapped between my legs spring to life, and hum gently, vibrating from my clit to deep inside me. It was tied there with ropes I was still to weak and tired to figure out. They’d learned exactly what toy and setting to use, though, and even though it was gentler than some of the things they’d used on me, this one slowly, agonizingly pushed me to a long, helpless orgasm before going still. Maybe it went still – maybe I just passed out again.

I woke again in the morning, finally together enough to get a knife to saw through the ropes, but not before the thing woke up again between my legs. By the time I got it free, it had me close one more tim. Gripping the toy to finally pull it from me, I stared at my hand in shock as, instead, it pushed the shaft deeper. Disbelievingly, before I withdrew the toy from me, I made myself cum with it, twice. 

When I finally pulled it out, I collapsed back on my bed, wondering what I had become.