Everything

He had been planning this moment for months. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears from the excitement of it. He'd been watching her, planning this night, fanaticizing about it, playing it over in his head. Now the time had come. He was going to take her. He would possess her in a way she had never known. He would transform this proper, beautiful, strong, independent woman into his bitch. It wasn't just about fucking her. Yeah, he was going to fuck her alright, and he was practically salivating at the thought of it, but this was more than that. This was about owning her. Taking her the way HE wanted to take her. Making her his whore. She wasn't just going to pleasure him. She was going to submit. He couldn't wait to see the look in her eyes when she did. The fact that she was sure to fight it made it better. The fact that he was certain she would eventually give in made his heart race in anticipation.

Mary was gorgeous. She had long dirty blonde hair, naturally wavy and lustrous. She was blessed with natural DD tits that even when clothed seemed to call out to be played with. Her hourglass figure was a constant distraction to any man in the room. She was no stick figure magazine model. Mary was a bombshell and she knew it. She dressed so proper, so buttoned up, never showing cleavage in the workplace or even out on the town for an evening. She was the classic southern belle; prim and proper, conservative in appearance and manner. She made great efforts to come off as a cool, dispassionate lady. He knew better.

He had watched her. He saw the way she moved, the way she let her hand linger on her thigh or ass cheeks in a slightly sensual way, almost caressing her own curves in a manner that made an observant male wonder if he was imagining her latent sexual manner, or if she was really teasing every man in sight on purpose. He noticed the way she wore just a little animal print now and then, perhaps a subconscious admission of the wild side of her sexuality she was holding in. She put off the "I don't fuck on the first date, and when I do fuck it's missionary style with candles lit" kind of vibe, but she had "fuck me like an animal and make me your whore" inside her. It just needed to be set free.

He'd been watching her every move for quite some time. He knew her schedule. It was like her, repressed and boring. She was like clockwork. He saw her pull into the drive and park her car in the garage of her upper middle class, stuffy, cookie cutter house. It was a suburban wet dream. A nice two-story tract home, on the right side of the tracks but not in the rich neighborhood. Apparently, her husband wasn't successful enough to buy her everything she wanted. The garage door closed behind her. He watched. He waited. Dusk was beginning to settle on her suburban home and her boring life. He waited for the master bedroom light to click on upstairs. It did. That was his queue.

He slid from the car with a length of silk rope in his hand and walked briskly to the pedestrian door into the garage. It was open, as he knew it would be. He knew her habits almost as well as his own by now. The door slid open with a slight squeak, but she was upstairs so he entered with a brisk confidence. Onward, to the laundry room door, which led to the main house from the garage. It too was unlocked, as she always left it. Quietly and more deliberately, he began to climb the spiral staircase. With each step, he slowed his pace a little more and focused more on subterfuge than speed. He couldn't help but notice that she kept her home as tidy and proper as she did herself. Nothing about the home surprised him. It was her to a T. As he deliberately closed the gap between himself and his quarry, he slid the silk rope into his right rear pocket. He felt his heart race with excitement and could hear only the sound of his own breathing and her movement. As he neared the master bedroom door, he heard her move on the hard tile of the master bathroom. She was at the sink. He was close enough to hear the sounds of her brushing her hair. He was in the master bedroom now, and a glance at the bed made him instinctively lick his lips. Her skirt was on the perfectly made bed, complete with a comforter folded over the foot of the California King for decoration, and a pillow party of those obnoxiously pointless decorative throw pillows women like Mary loved to clutter their beds with. The red high heels that she'd worn to the office were beside the bed. That's where he would take her. That's where he would make her his whore.

"Focus", he reprimanded himself silently, as he snapped attention back to the task at hand. The first moments were critical. He had to subdue her without too much fuss. It was a big house on a decent sized piece of property, but there were neighbors. He wanted to keep her initial response as quiet as possible. Once he had her subdued, he knew he would have control of her, but until he did, things could go very wrong.

He eased his way closer to the bathroom. As he peaked around the corner he caught his first glimpse of her. She was facing a mirror and sink out of his sight to his left. He had a clear view of the oversized Jacuzzi tub and glass shower to his right, behind her. The double sink she primped at was out of his sight. He could see her in profile as her perfectly shaped ass cheeks peeked from under the end of her white blouse. That soft white skin looked so amazingly warm and inviting. She was wearing thong panties that were intermittently visible under her blouse. She wore nothing else form the waist down. The white button-down blouse she had worn to the office that day was still on, but unbuttoned slightly, perhaps to remove a necklace? She was fussing with her hair and make-up. Apparently, Mary had plans tonight. He was about to change them.

He watched her in profile, just out of sight, for a few brief moments; just long enough to size up the situation and make sure there were no surprises. She was alone, as he knew should would be. She was partially undressed, as he hoped she might be. Everything was as planned. It was time.

He leapt into the bathroom without a sound, locking his left arm under hers from behind and securing his hand behind her neck in one smooth motion. With his right hand, he grasped Mary firmly by the throat. His right arm was also locked under hers, causing her right hand, still holding her hairbrush, to waive awkwardly in the air. The two locked eyes in the mirror. He almost laughed as he wondered to himself if she was trying to strike him with the hairbrush. Was she really brandishing a brush as a defensive weapon? He lifted her, ever so slightly by the neck, one hand on her throat and the other on the back of her neck; not enough to life her off the ground and injure her, just enough to disorient her and let her feel his strength. In doing so, he pulled her shoulders back and her chest forward. A button of her blouse popped open with the violent, quick motion of it all. Her milky white, soft left breast was partially exposed in the mirror. He couldn't quite see her nipple, but he would soon. Apparently, she had removed her bra already, though he hadn't seen that on the bed. Wouldn't it be just like her to have put it away already? Dear God, she was repressed. He couldn't wait to bring some chaos into her orderly little life, shattering this goodie-two-shoes little proper bitch, once and for all. He would debase her, reduce her to her elemental sexuality and desires. He would violate her. The brush crashed to the tile floor.

Her eyes were filled with terror and she made out the identity of her attacker in the mirror. She knew this man, but not like this. Mary had clearly realized instantly she was in his grasp and complete control. She saw the wildness in his eyes and hers reflected her shock and fear. She reflexively cried out with surprise, but his powerful grasp on her throat made her swallow her scream, half uttered. She pulled instinctively against his grasp but to little avail. She was 5'4" and 140 pounds, even with her ample breasts. He was 6-foot-tall and a thick, muscular, 250 pounds. There was no point in struggling; even in her panic she realized this in an instant.

He squeezed her throat firmly, in a manner to threaten more pressure if needed and hissed his first of many instructions, "Don't scream." His mouth was on her right ear and his words were spoken softly but menacingly, "If you do what I say, and everything I say, you won't get hurt." After a pregnant pause, he added, almost mockingly, "In fact, you might like it."

She was terrified but not entirely cowed. "Don't flatter yourself", Mary defiantly replied. He smiled into the mirror at her, fully satisfied at the thought of how fun it was going to be to break this bitch. "What do want from me?" she said after a brief pause.

"Everything" he whispered back.

He dragged her into the bedroom, hands still on her neck. When he reached her bed, he pulled her arms behind her back and grasped his left hand around her wrists. With his right hand, he tore her blouse open, buttons flying, to expose her luscious tits in one quick, violent motion. Mary squealed in surprise at the sharpness of the act. She kicked at him fruitlessly, which drew a harsh response. With his right hand, he grabbed a handful of hair and bending her over her bed, shoved her face into the comforter forcefully, like a master rubbing a dog's nose in shit. "Don't fuck with me, bitch!" he demanded. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but we are doing this. If you don't want to get hurt, don't fight me. Do...you...understand?"

With a twist of his wrist, her turned Mary's head to the left so she could breathe more easily and reply. "Fuck you." She said defiantly.

"Oh, you will." Was his reply, as her pulled her back upright.

The now tattered blouse was pulled down over her shoulders and hung on her forearms, as he still held her wrists together behind her back. He could feel the warm, smooth curve of her ass cheeks with the back of his left hand as he held her there. With expert precision, he slid his right arm under her elbows and lifted, holding her left elbow in his firm grasp and cradling her right in the crook of his elbow. The blouse dropped to the floor. He got his first good look at her tits, over her right shoulder as he did so, and felt his cock begin to stir.

With his right hand, he retrieved the silk rope from his right rear pocket and began to tie her wrists with it, behind her back. As a former Boy Scout, he knew how to tie an assortment of proper knots and he moved quickly and deftly to secure her arms. Once complete, the white thong panties, with little lacy edges, her only remaining clothing, had to go. She squirmed defensively as he tugged them down insistently, but she seemed to know better than to completely resist the effort. His strength and forcefulness intimidated her and she didn't want to know what he was going to do if she resisted completely.

She was nude. "That ass just is spectacular", he thought, as he became aware of his stiffening member in his pants. This little control-freak of a proper Georgia peach, had been hauled into her own bedroom and roughly stripped naked. She was in shock and he loved it.

He pulled her by her bound wrists down into a kneeling position on the floor. "No..." she began to say, as she glanced as his crotch, realizing what was about to happen. His right hand came crashing down on her cheek with a sharp smack before she could complete the protest. The slap stunned her. "Shut the fuck up." He snarled at her, and he began to undo his pants. She said nothing but shook her head "no", still kneeling before him defenselessly.

"Shhhhh" The shoes were off and pants on the floor. Mary's eyes found the thick outline of his cock underneath his boxers. She could see it rising and getting thicker. She kept shaking her head, "no", but never looked away from his barely concealed penis and didn't speak. She knew what was coming next and at this point was resigned to it. She would suck his dick. She had no choice.

He pulled the front of his boxer briefs down to expose his swelling member. It leapt upward, free of its constraints. He penis pointed straight out, towards her face, as he wasn't quite fully erect. Still she stared, eyes wide, never looking away. "You like that?" he asked her, mockingly.

"No. Please don't." She implored.

"Open." Was his reply. He grasped a handful of her long, dirty blonde hair, grasping close to her scalp, so as to be able to move her head at his whim. With his right hand, he slapped her left cheek, but softly now, like a tap, rather than violently as before. "Open up."

He was nearly fully erect now, his dick rising slowly before her eyes, as he anticipated her mouth on him. His dick wasn't huge, at least not by porn standards, but he was well endowed, especially with girth. His cock was meaty with a massive head that was on full display, as he was circumcised. It was nearly fully engorged now. She stared at it with fear in her eyes. He pulled her head to him. Another tap, "I said, 'open'."

She did. Her hands were behind her back, still bound, so he had full control of her and could use her mouth as he wished. He wasn't in a hurry. He was going to slow fuck her mouth and enjoy it. He slid the head of his dick into her reluctantly open lips. He felt the warm wetness of her mouth, and the base of his tip slide over tongue, and then the shaft. He pushed deeper. She instinctively pulled her head back as he penetrated her mouth deeper than was comfortable. "No, no, don't fight it baby." He quietly reprimanded her.

His left hand pulled her deeper onto his member, his cock head sliding to the back of her tongue. He forced it farther. She gagged and pulled back, but his pressure was relentless. He held her on him and forced it deeper, into her throat. "That's it. Choke on it."

She gagged again. Now, slowly, at his own pace, not at all hastened by the throaty gargling noise of her gagging on his dick and her own saliva, he withdrew his cock from her mouth and let her thick, viscous spit dangle from her lips, connecting to the head of his dick with ropey strands. She gasped for air and looked up at him. Their eyes locked. "Good girl." He encouraged her. "That's a good whore." He smiled at her. She didn't look away as she panted for air. His right hand cupped her chin as his left kept a firm grasp of her scalp. Her lips remained parted, slightly, anticipating his next assault on her mouth. "Come one, open up. I'm going to throat fuck you."

Again, she reluctantly complied, opening her mouth to allow his now rock-hard dick to invade her. He pulled her skull onto his cock and choked her with it again and again. Each time he held her on his dick to force his head down her throat and hold it there. He enjoyed feeling the way the gag reflex in her throat squeezed on his cock head. He loved the feeling of her muscles seizing as she gagged on it, how she pulled back fruitlessly as he raped her mouth. Slowly, he pulled it out and let her gasp for breath. Her saliva was all over her face now, and even dangled in long thick strands onto her tits. She was a fucking mess. The beauty queen was getting owned and he wagered the part she hated most was how she looked. He on the other hand, loved it. The gagging was making her tear up, and her mascara was beginning to run. The more fucked up this little princess looked, the more it turned him on.

Back into her mouth he went, but this time, something changed. Rather than passively accept his cock, he felt her mouth it. Her tongue slid back and forth on the bottom of his head and shaft as he entered her. She closed her lips on his penis this time, rather than just compliantly opening as he asked. The warm wetness on her lips forming a seal around his shaft increased the pleasure sensation. She was sucking it. He watched her intently as he eased it into her and the change was unmistakable. Instead of pulling her onto him all the way this time, he pushed his dick about half way in and then pulled it all the way to the opening of her mouth. She kept her lips closed on his dick. When his head was at her lips, she tucked her lips against the thick ridge of his head. He could feel the slight suction it created. He pulled the head from her farther and she gently kept the wet pressure of her lips against the head all the way to the tip. "Suck it." He encouraged her, and while still holding her hair and chin, he no longer pulled and forced her motion. He wanted to give her a chance to move voluntarily and work his cock for him.

She sat there for a moment, makeup running down her tear-streaked face, spit all over her chin and tits, on her knees, hands still tied behind her back looking at his cock. She looked up into his eyes. Now back at his dick, still panting to catch her breath. Then, slowly, she eased toward him, opened her mouth and sucked it. His hands just followed the movement of her neck and head, without moving her at his will any longer. She worked the head, sucking the ridge and working her lips on his glans. He moaned in delight as he watched her. She slid about half way down the shaft and bobbed on his manhood. Her pace quickened as he moaned. She knew how to suck dick, that was for sure. Her tongue expertly circled the head and glans. She then slid her lips down the shaft working her tongue in and out against the underside of him as she did, then back to the head where she worked her lips against the ridge, adding to the pressure on his most sensitive region. Then sliding her lips closed over his dome until she was puckering against his tip. It a was heavenly sensation. For several minutes she sucked him, until he finally released her head altogether, placing his hands on his hips, in her plain view, to accentuate to them both that she was not being forced any longer to blow him. She was working his cock, while not willingly, at least on her own. He felt his hardness swell to another level, his bulbous head engorging larger and growing more sensitive with each stroke of her expert mouth and tongue. He was close to blowing his load down her throat and they both knew it. He was impressed she was getting him there without any use of her hands. Most women jerk a man off to orgasm more than blow him. The mouth just keeps it wet and adds some softness to a rough hand-job. Not this whore. She could suck a cock and make a man whimper. She quickened her pace and intensity, increasing the suction at the ridge of his penis with each pass. She made little moaning sounds of encouragement now, as she sucked him. It was building up. She was goading him on now with her moans and building intensity. Just then, he pulled away.

He bent down until his eyes were level with hers and paused for a moment. He drank in how fucked up this perfect little bitch looked, make-up smudged around her eyes, lipstick long gone from cock sucking, spit all over her face and tits. lips puffy and still parted, still breathing heavily from his assault on her throat. It was beautiful.

"No you don't." he said playfully. She didn't avert his stare. She glared back at him defiantly. "I know what you're doing. You think you're going to get me to cum and this will all be over. No fucking way you're getting off that easy. I've waited to take you like this for too long. I'm going to enjoy this. I'm fucking you every way possible, little lady. You're mine."

He couldn't help but notice the expression change on her face when he said, "every way possible". She knew what was coming now, and her defiant glare turned. A slightly horrified reality washed over her face. Just a moment before he thought she couldn't look any better, and the hint of terror in her eyes had already proven him wrong. "