Remember the first time you stuck your cock in a woman? I bet you do. I remember one of the things my boyfriend told me, oh please baby just let me stick it in. That’s always how it starts. Well I remember that and I remember thinking, he has to have a place for me to just slip it in.
As he started putting his cock in me, I fantasized about somehow managing to trade. I wanted that dick. I wanted to be the one coaxing and saying oh come on baby just let me stick it in. This was my youth when things weren’t quite there for me. I was still fumbling around having control fantasies of how I wanted to take the boys over. Years later I discovered the strap on. I thought about what a strap on did for me as a woman, and suddenly I had a whole new appreciation of sex with boys, and girls for that matter.
As soon as I turned 18 I bought one online from Babeland, formerly known as Toys in Babeland. As soon as I was holding it in my hands, I knew how empowered I was. I had my very own dick. A tingle started deep in my belly and every nerve I had jumped into euphoria at once. I could FUCK boys now. I had a dick, plasticky rubbery dick, but it was hard. I just put the lovely harness around my waist, and strapped in my new found toy. I fantasized everyday about using it.
My mind would wander in school, and I’d find myself thinking about the strap on, and how I’d use it. Dreamily I would imagine kidnapping a man. Find a man who looked by himself at a bar. I would walk over to him give him. He sees me there a slinky gold dress showing my beautiful body and pale skin.
As I walk near him I see it. There’s the look. She’s coming toward me, she wants to talk to me. Of course I want to talk to him. But even more so I want to fuck him. I want to get us in a booth together in the back of the restaurant and I want to fuck this bitch boy with my strap on. I imagine what his man pussy would look lie filled to the top with my huge member.
I’m aching like hell for him to be mine. I sit down next to him, and I see the look of shock on his face. He’s about 35 years old chestnut brown hair, hazel eyes, and slight, but healthy build. He wasn’t expecting my radiant beauty to sit next to him in the dark dingy bar.
I smile, it’s disarming for a sadist like myself to smile in such ways. He softens, and I know he’s thinking about what a sweet woman I must be. I can hear his thoughts almost, that I must have taken pity on him. Pity, mercy, those are things I don’t feel and don’t know how to feel.
I love this rush. I am the predator, stalking my prey. I’m not dangerous right now, a chameleon asking him the small talk questions. Where is he from, what does he do. In the back of my head I know I have the chloroform easily available. Any time is a good time. He wouldn’t see it coming and then my slave boys would haul him out to the van. then I could have my way with him.
He talks to me trying to make more small talk, I know he thinks he has a chance, but really I’m the one calling the shots. I reach between my breasts and remove the bag with the chloroform soaked handkerchief. I inch toward my prey. Not a bad looking man. Ever slowly, and ever closer. I know he thinks I’m trying to kiss him. Suddenly I bring my hand to his face lightning fast. He fights me just a little bit. Then goes down. His who body is shaking.
The bartender checks to make sure he’s okay, I tell him he’s just had a little too much, and my boys come to haul him away. I have him now. He’s truly mine. We drive away with my prize in the white van.
Half way through the ride he starts to stir, moaning a little.
“You’ll be very quiet and do exactly as you’re told.”
My voice is stern, My brown eyes are cold as steel.
“What are you doing to me?”
His voice is weak. Ah the subject is submissive, and not only that he’s afraid. I bask in his fear a bit longer. I can hear him trembling. Six big men are watching him in the back. No chance of escape. If he’s as delectable to play with as I believe he will be, I’ll keep him. I’ll keep him in my harem, and make him mine.
I drive until we reach my home. I love my home, because the neighbors are just far enough they can’t hear. The house is a looming old gothic architecture home. I watch my prey becoming more and more nervous. He shakes. I laugh diabolically. I know that he’s confused, doesn’t know why he’s been chosen.
His voice is quivering, as he’s on his knees in front of me. I put my foot into his back, forcing him onto hands and knees. I push him to the ground his face is in the dirt. I know he’s crying a little bit.
“Please. What are you doing to me? Please let me go.”
I love the sobbing, and the whimpering. He probably will make a fabulous slave.
My voice is harsh, nothing in it to hint I care. He cries more, pleading for some mercy. Sharply I kick him in the ass. The bitch stopped crawling, and I’m about to rape his virgin ass. I love the strap on. I know he does too. We’ve been planning this over the internet and phone for months. And here he is loser boy crying in the dirt in front of me. All the while the convoy of male slaves follows me. They make sure he doesn’t rise or try to run away.
“Please Mistress. Please.”
Pathetic whimpers and he’s begging.
“You asked for this slave. This is what you wanted. I told you I had no mercy.”
Cold voices always work on them. He’s shuddering. I make him crawl into the house on his hands and knees.
I force him into the dilapidated living room. There’s a dirty old mattress in the middle of the floor. It’s covered in years of filth. I know how humiliating this is for him. I direct my males slaves.
The order is cold and heartless.
“No please Mistress. Can’t you take my clothing off?”
Pathetic begging. I leave him on the mattress. I deliver a swift kick to his leg. I like making the males slaves strip a male. It’s the ultimate in humiliation. He cringes at the kick. He’s crying, begging shaking. Maybe he’ll piss himself even more bonus. I love it when they are so out of control they can’t control their bladders.
I watch with glee as he cries. The men are taking his clothing off, manhandling him. Nothing he can say or do is going to change his predicament. Once he’s stripped and been thrown face down on the mattress I take my skirt off. The harnessed dildo protrudes from between my legs.
I yank him up by the hair, and slap his face with my cock. He cries some more begging for it all to stop. I slap his face harder with the dick. More tears, and whimpering. The men have all disappeared, and are hidden watching, making sure he stays in his place.
I shove the huge dildo into his mouth. It goes all the way down his throat. He gags. I can hear him choking the muffled noises, he sounds like he’s trying to wretch. I own his mouth now, I keep fucking his face. I love fucking his face, I love see the tears. I truly enjoy the strap on piercing his lips.
“You little cock sucker. You’re finally doing something right for once in your life you little whore.”
More crying, and more of my laughter fills the room. I love his look of shock. He hasn’t yet said his safe word, so I continue.
“Now you little whore. We both know why you’re actually here. You’re here to be used like the little cock slut you are.”
My voice is like an icy razor. He knows what this means even as I throw his head back to the ground. I pounce on top of him, only using his saliva as lube, and I shove my strap on in him deeply, and violently. He screams, twitches, fights a little, then relaxes. Suddenly he is completely zen, there is no more of his ego left. He relaxes I pump him over and over, fucking him, just sticking it in so to speak. His cock rubs and presses against the filthy mattress until he adds another stain.
I hold him stroking him and petting him. I whisper reassurances, and he falls asleep in my arms completely exhausted.
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