Biggest Risk of My Life Ch. 03

...

Christina

She could feel herself sluggishly recovering, as if waking from a deep sleep. Her breathing seemed back to normal now as she took a slow, deep breath. No longer panting like some animal as her heart threatened to burst from her chest it had been beating so fast.

Her world was still one of darkness. Obviously that mask thingy was still in place, keeping her eyes covered. Perhaps it was best she couldn't see him, she thought. He must have been shocked and ashamed of her for what she did. He was raping her and... she... she... what? What actually had happened?

Introspectively she allowed her thoughts to swirl around in her head as she lay on the bed, thinking about what had taken place. Searching to understand it. The things she had just experienced. The horrible, dirty, disgusting, painful things she had been subjected to. Then, that astonishing, amazing, over-whelming burst of pleasure that had hit her. What was that? Is this how it feels to be evil? A whore? A...a common slut, just like he was calling her? Was she really a slut?

If he could see it in her, why hadn't others? Perhaps they had. Perhaps the things her parents subjected her to when she was growing up were because they could see she was an evil slut.

She suddenly remembered instances from her early teenage years. Those strange feelings she would have when soaking in a bath. The feelings... down there, in her unmentionables. Then while drying herself with a towel, how she would linger drying down there, rubbing the towel back and forth, back and forth. The strange feelings that would occur.

How one day her Mother walked into the bathroom and caught her with closed eyes drying herself. The "knowing" look she had given her before going off to tell her father.

Before she knew what was happening, she was over her father's knee, totally naked, and he was spanking her with a hairbrush. The punishment seemed to go on and on and it took weeks for her to be able to sit without any discomfort. Her butt was so sore and bruised even wearing underwear was tortuous.

As if that wasn't bad enough, for the next three years... yes, three years... She was made to wear a pair of large oven gloves every night when she went to bed. Each had a small padlock at the high wrist end to prevent them being removed.

Each night she had to put the gloves on and go to her mother who would then attach the locks. Every morning, before she could even go to the toilet, she had to present herself before her mother to have the locks removed.

The ongoing embarrassment she had felt had caused her to completely supress any sexual arousal feelings she had. She had never allowed that feeling to grow in her again.

Now this stranger, her rapist... was making her do things. He was punishing her body but the effects were different. Her mind was rebelling but her body seemed to be craving what he was doing. How could that be?

The whole front of her body was engulfed in a smouldering fire when he was whipping her. Her nipples, those embarrassing mountains that were her nipples, actually throbbed with the fire and pain they were subjected to. He pulled them, rolled them around like a dial on an old radio and kept pinching them tightly. They ached with a feeling she had never encountered before and "He" seemed to know it. He seemed to understand what she was feeling. How was that possible?

When he clipped something on to them, she thought she would die with the initial pain. But somehow they settled down, although she could still feel the throbbing that emanated from them. The pain somehow became endurable.

Why was she so wet? She could feel a wetness down below and he kept talking about how wet she was and that she was a perfect slut because of it. What did he mean?

When he put those vile ball things actually inside her body she had thought things couldn't get any worse. That is, until they began buzzing or vibrating inside her. Immediately she had felt waves of stimulation crashing through her body. The craving for what, she wasn't sure, just increased.

When his fingers grasped her most sensitive part, pushing the flesh back, she had groaned with his touch. But then she felt his mouth, his lips and his wiggling tongue, lick and suck on it and her world simply exploded.

She had felt her body suddenly seize and go tense as all her muscles appeared to clench at the same time. She couldn't even breathe. She felt her body seem to explode as it seemingly blasted her urine out from her unmentionables. No, what did he call it? Her cunt. Yes, her cunt seemed to explode and suddenly she had the dark protection she desired as her body shut down as she fainted.

Now she was trying to make sense of it all but she was baffled. Was what she had experienced... was that an orgasm? Steve had always asked her if she had orgasms but she never knew what to tell him. She was doing her duty as a good wife: what more could he want from her? She always told him, "I love you darling," and that was that. He knew she didn't like talking about anything sexual. He had tried to discuss things but she had always refused to talk.

Is this what whores and sluts experienced all the time when they had sex?

Her burglar/rapist kept calling her a slut. Was she one all along and hadn't realised it? What was she to do now?

Any further thoughts were stopped as her assailant suddenly began speaking again.

...

"Welcome back, my lovely, sexy cunt," I began. "You can't fool me. I know you're awake."

She moved her head towards the sound of my voice.

Her voice was very quiet as she asked, "Please let me go now. You've had your fun with me. I won't say anything to anyone. I promise."

I realised that she had been quietly crying while she lay there and had an immediate pang of conscience. No, I had to press on. This was no time for mercy.

"Go! You want me to go? But we are only just getting started, my little slut," I explained. "You have much more to experience yet. With all your crying I'm sure you will have a hot, wet mouth. Yes, sir-eee. Wet eyes, wet mouth, wet cunt, as the saying goes," I managed to chuckle convincingly. "I haven't even had the pleasure of fucking your mouth... or fucking your hot, slutty cunt yet, my lovely cunt."

"You do want me to enjoy myself, don't you, cunt?"

"Don't you, cunt?" I repeated more firmly, as she failed to answer.

Finally, as if resigned to take the path of least resistance, she answered tentatively, "Yes."

"Yes what, little cunt?" I decided that stricter parameters needed to be in place. She actually needed those guidelines, I realised.

"Yes... I want you to... enjoy yourself."

"Sir. You shall address me as Sir from now on, little cunt. You need to know your place in things," I began explaining. "Repeat your answer again," I quietly instructed.

"Yes sir... I want you to... enjoy yourself sir."

"Well done, little cunt," I said as I stroked my bare hand down the length of her upper body. She flinched at first, then gave in as I continued another long stroke.

"Don't forget to answer me correctly from now on," I continued her instruction, "or I will have to punish you in some way. Do you understand, little slut?"

"Yes, sir. I understand," came the reply.

"Another thing... what is your name, little slut?" I asked quietly, waiting to see if she would fall into my verbal trap.

"Christina, sir."

"No slut. How can you forget so easily?" I quietly rebuffed her. "Your new name is "slut". That's what I call you because that's what you are," I outlined.

"So, what is your name, slut?"

"Please sir... I'm not a slut, I'm not. I'm a good girl. A good wife. Please don't make me say it," she pleaded.

Mmm, I thought. She is still resisting me. Well, it's only been a couple of hours, I realised. I was asking a lot of her, I knew. But I had revised my understanding of her during the little break. I had planned to simply force her to have sex with me in the ways I really wanted her.

But now I decided that she had to be forced, step-by-step, into a new role that I thought she was capable of. One that had laid dormant within her. The role of a sexually submissive slut.

She simply had to accept that, within herself, she had the desires of a very sensual woman... and boy, what a body she had. But because of her upbringing and the warped ideas of her parents, she would likely never allow herself to embrace this sexual freedom. So she had to be forced, allowing her to lay the blame elsewhere. In this case, at me. Only then could she let her inhibitions go and give in to what she was being "forced" to do. Only then could she allow herself to actually enjoy sex and all things sexual.

Well, someone will just have to assume the responsibility and take on the role of teaching her, I decided. I grinned at the task ahead. There was no way of knowing how she will react with many of the things I planned on introducing her to. It might even lead to a physical and/or mental breakdown, I seriously contemplated. But the risk would be worth it, I resolutely decided.

"Please don't, sir. I'm a good girl, I really am," she continued.

"Enough of this resistance, slut. I simply won't put up with it." I reached over and grasped her right nipple between my thumb and fingers... and began squeezing, slowly increasing the pressure. She had a sudden intake of breathe as the pain quickly increased.

"Now, tell me your name, slut."

"Awe hell. It hurts. Stop please, sir. It hurts meeee. Stop."

"Slut. My name is slut, sir. My name is slut... slut. Stop sir, please."

I immediately let go. "Well done, little slut. You are learning... and we are making progress. You have pleased me greatly, my slut."

"Thank you sir," I was surprised to hear her say.

...

I looked back down the length of her body and let my hand stroke down it again. My fingers stroked all the way down onto her legs: down the thighs past her knees and down to her ankles. I did this two of three times, like petting a large animal.

My next stroke went down into her concave stomach and up over her glorious mound. I couldn't resist letting my fingers dip slightly into the split peach of her cunt, the soft big meaty outer lips parting like the red sea to let my fingers brush past the entrance to her cunt.

Normally I preferred calling it a pussy but calling it a cunt had considerably more shock value with conservative people. Christina obviously hated it being called a cunt which was why I used the name.

I had made sure to avoid the prominent hood of her clit. It was just too sensitive and I was saving that for latter.

Much to my surprise, my fingers encountered a slippery moisture surrounding her cunt entrance. Naturally I allowed a finger to delve into the tunnel and experienced a wetness that continued to surprise me.

"My, my, little slut. You are gushing like a river down here. What have you been thinking about?" I mused out loud. "Or was it the abuse I gave your nipple?" I glanced over at her abused nipple, realising for the first time that it was standing proudly after being pinched so tightly.

"You loved it. Your body loved the pain, didn't it, slut?"

"No sir. No, I didn't. I hate the pain. Please don't hurt me again," she pleaded.

I bent more closely to her ear and whispered, "I bet you secretly enjoyed those spankings you got from your father. Didn't you, slut? I bet that red hot butt of yours just glowed after your father gave it the hairbrush treatment for being late back from your dates with your fiancé."

I wriggled two fingers deeper into her, by now, very wet cunt. She was getting off on this, I could tell.

"I know what you did, little slut. Your slutty body is telling me," I continued to whisper, knowing that I was climbing into the recesses of her mind. "I think that, sometimes...you deliberately caused the date to run late, didn't you? So that you got to feel the kiss of the hairbrush. You wanted it, didn't you slut?" knowing from her bodies reaction that what I said wasn't far from the truth.

"Nooooo. Oh, noooooo. I didn't want it," she quietly tried to tell me while trying to convince herself. But it wasn't very convincing. I knew it: she knew it. Most of all, she knew I knew it. A deep moan emanated from her mouth as she mentally fought her memories for the truth.

"Slut," I whispered, "I bet you want to be spanked with it right now. Should I go and get your hairbrush from your bathroom? Or wherever you keep it?" I managed to tag on, in case it sounded as if I knew where she kept things. Luckily she never noticed my slipup, so I continued to whisper in a low voice. "You know... I bet it looks just like the one your father always used. Am I right, slut? Does it look the same? Answer me."

"Yes! Damn you. Yes, it does. Are you satisfied now, Sir! She finally added at the end, remembering her place. "I wanted to be punished. For... for... all the improper thoughts I had when I went out with Steve. He made me feel... that I wanted to be bad. It was wrong of me... and I had to be punished to stop me making a mistake. I had to remain pure," she was now trembling and sobbing her heart out as she attempted to explain her actions.

Hell, I felt bad. Why didn't she ever discuss all this with me? Other than explaining that she would go to her wedding night a virgin and that all other hanky-panky was also off the menu: no oral, no hand jobs and no hands under clothes.

I didn't say anything. I just continued to wiggle my two fingers inside her cunt. Man, it was really wet now. Her body had continued to heat up either from the effect of our talk, plus the memories it raised, or from the inserted fingers. Now I was going to take advantage of it.

Very quickly I stripped off all my clothes. As I expected the wee feller felt like Christmas was here and was striving for the sky. I climbed on the bed, spreading her legs as I lowered my body on top of hers.

"Wait. What are you doing? No. Don't do it. Please. My husband... he'll... hate me. Please don't," came spewing out as she knew what was about to happen.

I touched my cock head to her cunt entrance and coated it with her excretions. I eased it inside in an in-out series of thrusts and finally, sunk it to the hilt inside the hottest and wettest cunt I've ever had the pleasure to enter.

I held myself ridged, embedded to the hilt while I regained control. I didn't want to blast off too soon, now that I'd reached "heaven on earth".

Christina was shaking her head side to side and muttering various words to herself. I couldn't make them out. Wanting to avoid any possibility of recognising my cock from our other love making sessions, if I could even call those boring sessions "love making", I moved up onto my knees, then placed her legs up on to my shoulders. That should feel different to her, I immediately acknowledged. It certainly allowed my average sized cock to go in much deeper on every thrust.

With my weight on my hands, I began the time old process of thrusting in slowly and withdrawing. The wet tunnel creating no real resistance to my thrusts; it just gripped my cock firmly in a well of pleasure.

The moans from Christina began getting louder with each thrust and I slowly increased the pace. Now her moans were interspersed with words like, "Yes. That's it. Oh god... oh my god. So good, so good." I must be doing something right, I managed to grin to myself.

Knowing I was no super stud, I slowed down and stopped.

"What are you doing? Don't stop," came the surprised calls from Christina. She attempted to thrust her lower body against mine, using her legs to pull me in to her.

"Keep going," she ordered. "Keep going. Fuck me. Fuck meeee. Please sir. Please master. Fuck me."

Well, she has certainly changed her tune, I thought. And that language from such a cute mouth. LOL. Should I admonish her for it, I laughed. Plus, the "master" title was even more of a surprise. Where had that one come from? She obviously had a far wider range of fantasies than even I had given her credit for.

"Well done slut. You feel amazing. Your sweet cunt feels amazing. It's so wet. It's truly the cunt of a sexy slut."

Time for reinforcement. "Now... what is your name?"

"Slut, sir. Master, sir."

"Very good slut. I'm impressed," I added. "What were we just doing?"

"Making lov... We were fucking, sir. Can we keep doing it? It feels wonderful, please sir."

"Oh, we will. We have much to try, my sexy slut. Just have patience." I was so impressed with her improvement. She had obviously decided that there was no use resisting. Whatever was going to happen, couldn't be stopped. After all, it "wasn't her fault, was it?"

"What was I fucking, little slut?"

"My... cunt, sir. You were fucking my hot, wet cunt." She continued to amaze me.

"Time for another lesson, cunt," I playfully announced.

I'm still not sure if the shudder that went along her body was one of fear, or excitement.

...

Christina

What is happening to me? What is he doing to me? I'm so confused. He's calling me vile names... and making me answer him. I have to tell him that my name is... slut! That's disgusting. Filthy. It makes me feel so dirty. Hearing him call me that was one thing... but now I have to answer him... like some slave... a sex toy... for his pleasure.

It feels so dirty when I say it. Like I'm giving in to him. But he keeps on talking. All the time. He doesn't stop. Making me remember things I'd rather not.

My body feels so hot. Like a simmering heat, ready to burst into flame every time he touches me. And he keeps touching me... all over. Stroking me, caressing me. It feels so... no, it can't feel good. I'm married. It can only feel good with my husband.

My breasts and nipples feel as if they are glowing with heat. So sensitive. He seems to know exactly how I feel... how they feel to me... and they respond to his rough treatment. I don't understand how they can be so mistreated... but feel so... so... No, I can't give in.

I'm so confused.

Noooo. He has climbed on top of me. I feel him... his thing... at my entrance. He is touching me... on my... cunt. Why am I so wet? Even I know that there is a lot of moisture down in my... cunt! So filthy... but the name seems to fit.

Arrrggghhhh. He is forcing it inside me. It seems so big... but it isn't painful like it often is with my husband. Now he's right up inside me. I've tried to resist him but it's impossible.

Gawd, he's putting my legs up on to his shoulders... like a common whore. A cheap slut... some streetwalking harlot.

So deep. He is pushing into me soooo deep. I've never felt anything like it before. Now it's going in... and out. He's... he's... fucking me. Oh gawd. He's fucking me. I know I should hate it... but it is feeling so good, so good. Faster and faster, he goes.

I can hear myself begging him. Like some cheap whore, begging him to go faster still.

Then he stops.

What? Why has he stopped? No. Noooo, I yell at him. Keep going. Keep going.

Then he really rubs salt into my wounds. He makes me admit... out loud... that I'm a slut. That... my name is... slut. That... I want him to keep... oh gawd... to keep fucking me.

I can't help myself. I want him to keep fucking me! Make me erupt like before. Fuck me.

I'm doomed, I know I am. I'm a wicked, evil, slut whore... and it feels soooooo good.

...

She was ready. She had given in and now was the time to press home my dominance of her... by letting her experience other things. I withdrew from the hot peach of her cunt, removed her legs from my shoulders and duck walked up her body. I was focused on her virginal mouth.

There were problems though. The position was not ideal for oral sex. I fluffed up another pillow and placed it under her head, raising it higher. Her head wasn't straight on even keel. It still meant her neck was bent forward to her body. Meaning I wouldn't get the straight throat needed for her to "deep throat" me. Oh well. The sacrifices we have to make.