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I'll beg you to fill me up raw in my pussy over and over and over again. I don't care if your wife is home, I'll still beg for your seed deep inside my pussy. Gawd in your bed, on your kitchen table, the nursery, the couch you cuddle up on. I'd let you take me whenever and wherever you want. Even maybe outside hehe.

But just know I'm loud and drippy. You might have to gag me if you don't want your wife to hear hehe. As you thrust inside me I'll beg and moan in pleasure asking for everything you can give me. Do you want her to hear? I love a married man that has such control over his wife that he could breed me right in front of her and she wouldn't do a thing.

Gawd my one friend's brother-in-law has a wife and a breeding toy and he brings both to family gatherings. Kind of would love that type of situation. Fuck me all night in your martial bed while she sleeps on the couch listening to my pleasure and if I'm truly blessed, your dirty talk too.

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It’ll be our little secret

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Threesome but it’s just two people having a perfectly normal conversation as you get fucked. Getting pounded stupid as they talk about their day, getting reprimanded for making too much noise, being told to be quiet they’re trying to talk. The only time it’s acknowledged they’re fucking you is when they cum, the conversation dwindles, words become strained, trying not to act like they’re close. And all you can do is whine as they cum inside you like it’s nothing

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Girl super drunk at the club, dancing in a short dress with no panties on who doesn’t even notice me as I slide up behind her. I grind against her for a while, letting my hands grab her hips and wander her body. Satisfied with how she barely even recognizes the groping, I pull my cock out and line it up with her cunt. She doesn’t even register that she’s being fucked until my whole tip is inside.

“Wait,” she stumbles and tries to squirm away, “what’s are you- what’s happening?”

I snap my hips forward and drive myself deep into her. He scream is hardly heard over the loud music and her pathetic flailing and bouncing as I rape her just look like the drunk dancing of any other stupid slut on the floor. I violate her all the way up to her womb in plain sight all night until she’s sufficiently filled with my cum. I figure since she’s probably too drunk to clearly remember this night, I might as well give her a little surprise to look forward to in nine months…

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I think getting fucked in front of a mirror and watching myself get completely wrecked with one of their hands harshly pulling at my hair and the other possesively groping my tits would cure me.

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Office Arrangement

Your work is usually flawless, so I was so surprised at your recent mistakes. One or two here and there is perfectly acceptable, but you were making typos and messing up copies with increased frequency each day. Every time a stopped by your desk to check up on you, you seemed to be either in a daze, your mind drifting away to another world, or face deep in your phone, only to slam it on your desk face-down the second you noticed I was approaching.

One day I approached from the back hallway, out of your line of sight. Whatever you were reading on your phone was so distracting you never heard me walk up and stand over your shoulder. I watched as your scrolled through tumblr, liking posts about girls getting stoned and used by strangers, or whores being used as free use sex objects on the subway. Images of naked girls tied up tight seemed to have you gripping your phone a little tighter, before liking that post, too. Then I saw a truly intriguing post. It was an illustration on a girl tied up and stuffed under a desk. The next image she was in the same position, but her boss was now sitting at the desk, and his cock was fully down her throat. The way she was tied and situated under the desk, she couldn't move an inch.

Just as you clicked on the heart icon to like the post, I shifted my weight on my feet and you heard my shoe scuff on the floor. You slammed your phone down and looked over to me, asking if I needed help with anything. "Oh no, sweetie, I've got everything I need." And walked away. You mind must've been racing! Did I see what you were looking at, or did you put your phone away fast enough? What did I mean when I said "I've got everything I need"? Did my smile seem mischievous to you?

I spent the rest of the week considering how to act. Your work improved quite a bit. Seems like you were a little more careful about browsing tumblr on your phone, but you were still daydreaming, and still making some mistakes here and there. Finally, after a week of deep thought, I called you into my office Friday afternoon.

"Shut the door." You obey. "Come." You walk over to my desk and stand with your arms by your side. "Sit." You take a seat across from me. I fight the urge to call you a good girl.

"I notice you seem to be a bit...distracted at work recently..." "Yes sir." "Your once flawless work has been riddled with errors." You bow your head down. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir." "I'm going to keep a very close eye on you. Very close. If I don't see improvements, there will be repercussions, is that understood?" "Yes, Sir" "Look me in the eyes and tell me." You raise your head, and I can tell your blushing a little bit. "I understand, Sir, I will do better." "Good girl. Now, back to work." Your cheeks are bright red as you stand up and leave my office. Now I've got your attention, lets see how this plays out.

The next few weeks go by, uneventfully. Your work is once again flawless, but your attitude has changed. You straighten up when I walk by, and greet me in the morning with a cheerful "good morning, Sir" and I can't help but to smile each time. After about 3 weeks of flawless work, I come in one Monday morning to review your work and find a typo. Just one, but I make a note of it. I circle it in red pen and drop it off on your desk. Then Tuesday morning comes, and I find yet another typo. More red pen, back on your desk. Two strikes. Wednesday and Thursday you were once again flawless, but Friday morning, I find 3 typos, and an entire sheet missing from my report. That's three strikes. I mark up your mistakes with my red pen, and drop them off with you. "See me in my office at 5 today." Your head bows down. "Yes, Sir."

5 o'clock hits, and as the rest of the office packs up to leave, you enter my office. "Shut the door, and step over here." You shut the door and walk over to my desk, standing next to the empty chair waiting for my command to sit. It never comes. "I told you I would be keeping a very close eye on you, did I not?" "Yes, sir, you did." " And what did I say would happen if you didn't improve " "There would be repercussions, Sir." "Very good. Now over the course of this week, you have made 5 typos and omitted an entire page from a report. How do you think I should punish you?" "However you see fit, Sir." I stand up and walk over next to you. "Good answer. Now, bend over." Your eyes widen and you look at me. "Sir?" "Do you trust me?" "Yes Sir, I trust you." "Good. Now bend over." You're hesitant, but you bend over my desk and lay your head down on the hard wooden desk. "Hands behind you, wrists crossed on the small of your back." You obey, and I stand there and observe you for a moment, before grabbing a ruler from my desk. "Count them, out out for me, sweetheart." And i smack the ruler across your ass. "One." "One what?" "One, Sir." "Good girl." Smack "Two, sir." Smack "Three, sir" Smack, smack. "Four, sir. Five, sir." "Good girl. Now stand. That was 5 spanks for 5 typos. A missing page is a much more serious infraction. You have two options. Option A, you come in an hour early Monday morning and receive the punishment I see fit for the infraction, or option b, you come in Monday at your normal time, and you will be written up as any other employee would be. There will be no further physical punishments, and you will go back to be treated as every other employee. Is that understood?" "Yes Sir" "Good. Now take the weekend and consider these options. I look forward to seeing you Monday morning." "Thank you, sir" and you leave the office. Monday morning, I'm sat in my office. I couldn't sleep, so I've been here since 5 am. I hear the office door open just before 7. At your desk you find a note on top of a few sheets of paper, and a gift box. The note reads "if your reading this, than you've chosen to show up an hour early to receive your punishment. Read the contract I've left on your desk thoroughly. If you agree to all terms, sign and leave in the mailbox on my office door. Take the box to the restroom and exchange your work clothes for the outfit inside. Return to my office and enter. I will be waiting." After waiting for what feels like an eternity, I heard heels clicking down the hall. You've exchanged your typical sneakers for the heels in the box. As you step into my office, I'm greeted with the sight of you: tall black high heels, a teeny black latex skirt that just barely covers your ass, and a crop top, black, with the words "office whore" written across your chest. A pile of neatly coiled rope sits on my desk. You silently approach my desk, and bow your head down. I walk up to you, grabbing a length of rope. As I tie your wrists behind your back, I begin to inform you how your Monday will go:

"An entire page missing from a report is a major infraction. I've updated your schedule on the work calendar as out of office. As far as everyone else knows, you'll be out all day running errands for me. The reality is that you will be tied up tight under my desk, with a ring gag in your mouth. I will use your mouth and grope your body all day as much as I please. Whenever I cum in your mouth, you are to swallow every drop and lick my cock clean. If a single drop hits the floor, and will be spanked while you lick my floor clean. "

By the time I finish, you are fully secured under my desk. You test your restraints and feel that cant move an inch. I unzip my pants and present my cock to your mouth, which you eagerly take. "Good girl, now keep quiet while I hop on this conference call."

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Good girls really suck... 😉

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My cute little hyno whore. She trained herself and had no idea. I bought her a clicker. I told her “Every time you're about to cum, click this twice, and then cum.” She obediently followed my instructions for months. On top of that, whenever we hung out, if she reached for her bong and took a hit, I would click once. Every time she reached for her bong: “click”

After a couple of months of her training, I tested her. We sat on the couch watching a show. I reached into my pocket for my device.

“Click”

She instinctively reached for her bong and took a hit. I let some time pass, and then tried again.

“Click”

Without a word, she reached over, sparked up and took another hit.

“Click”

Another hit.

“Click”

Another hit.

I let her relax for a bit, letting the herb make her brain nice and stupid for me.

I could tell she was so high at this point, the perfect opportunity to see how well she had trained herself.

“Click click”

She closed her eyes and let out a quiet moan. I let her regain her composure before testing her again.

“Click click”

Another soft moan escaped her lips. Now I knew I had her under my control. Her brain belonged to me.

“Click”

Another hit from her bong, making her just a little bit dumber.

“Click click”

Her eyes rolled back as she came yet again.

Just as she finished cumming, I went again.

“Click click”

This time she was louder, almost unable to hold back, throwing her head back and moaning with pleasure.

Hmmm, I wonder just how many times I can make my pretty whore cum?

“Click click”

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d’ya ever want someone to suck on your tits and do it in a really pervy way? like hands underneath your top without discarding it— fingertips pulling down the cups of your bra to palm your soft pretty tits without unclasping any single bent hook from metal hold. taking greedy handfuls and murmuring under their breath with a little bit of wonder in their voice at how good you feel. and suddenly it’s like you’re not even there… just a pretty pair of tits with a mouth that happens to be moaning. i like it kinda perverse. somewhat eager sounding and even just like really greedy?? mmm fuck. midnight fingers all over my tits when i’m warm and sleepy, getting my nipples stiff enough to draw between their teeth. i get so wet having my nipples sucked on. no idea why but it makes me feel kinda crazy. probably just a sensitivity thing but uhh yeah i uhm i wanna have em sucked on perv style after someone gropes me through my clothes

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Portal sex where the person fucking the portal doesn't know it's the real deal. They think they are just fucking some fancy fleshlight, simply imagining how nice it would be to fuck that person they have a crush on for real. Little do they know that said person is doubled over from the pleasure of having their pussy streched around the cock of someone they can't possibly identify.

The person fucking the portal would obviously cum inside. They want so desperately to knock up the real deal, but for now they will deal with cumming in a replica hole. And they would of course do so multiple times a day, using it whenever they get horny. Meanwhile the person on the receiving end ends up filled with cum 24/7, all but garenteeing pregnancy.

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being horny in public makes me so sad we don't live in a free use society, like, why can't i just start rubbing my dumb cunt in the train and hope someone takes notice and decides to fuck me in the middle of the compartment?

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Your immediate family is not very wealthy, but your childless and unmarried uncle sure is. So your parents start to push you to be closer with him - nothing inappropriate, of course, but wouldn’t it just be so great if you bonded a little bit more with him? He’s your uncle after all, he’s your family! You should be closer! And if he just so happens to grow fond of you and starts to consider you as the child he never had and decides to leave his fortune to you in his will, well, wouldn’t that just be perfect?

So the next time there’s a family gathering, your mother insists on you wearing that pendant your uncle had given you on your first birthday. It is not your style at all, but you can see how your mother barely holds back a grin when he notices it, when he says how happy he is that you appreciate it. And your parents don’t seem to mind how his eyes linger on your neck and drift down your body.

“Look at you, all grown up. And so pretty, too.”

It makes you feel more than a bit odd, but when you glance at the faces of your parents, you know you can’t bring that up to them. It was just a compliment, wasn’t it? You shouldn’t make a fuss about such things, so you won’t.

They see to it that you sit beside him at the table. You can feel their eyes on you, and urged by their gaze, you laugh at your uncle’s every joke - even the ones that make your stomach turn with anger and shame in equal measure. But you think that that’s the worst of it. A bit of flattery, as fake as it is, is a low price to pay for what you could gain. It certainly seems to work, because he looks at you and he smiles and compliments you.

“So many of the girls in your generation don’t know how to take a joke.”

And then you feel his hand, large and heavy and inescapable, resting on your thigh under the table. You glance at him, but he’s in the middle of explaining some old boating story to your older cousins and your father. He isn’t even looking at you. But his thumb is slowly caressing you through the fabric of your dress.

There’s no way for you to rationalise this. There is no excuse for him to do this. You try to scoot away as far as your seat will allow, but then that idle touch turns into a grip. He doesn’t pause his story, doesn’t even glance at you when he forces you to stay still beside him. You try to search your mother’s eyes, tell her without words that you’re in trouble, that you need help, mom, mom please, but she’s all too engrossed in a conversation on the fate of the department store downtown with her sister-in-law.

For a sweet moment you feel relief when the weight of his hand is lifted from your thigh. But then, his fingertips slide down the fabric, until he finds the hem of your dress and flips it under the table. And then his touch returns, his palm warm and rough and even heavier than before when it rests on your bare skin. Your father is laughing loudly at the punchline of the boating story when your uncle starts to slowly massage your flesh, inching up with every squeeze.

You reach under the table yourself, and grab his wrist. And he lets go - only for a second and only to slap at your hand, as if you were nothing but a petulant child. His touch returns where it was, unbothered. His little finger brushes against your underwear, and your breath hitches. It doesn’t help that you try to clamp your thighs shut, his hand pushes between them anyway. You can almost catch his smile widening when he realises how shamefully slick your panties are.

Your uncle glances at you, and asks you something while his fingers trace your slit through the soaked fabric.

“W-what?”

“Awww,” he coos, and at the same time, slips his hand past the waistband of your panties, “Looks like the wine might be getting to you, sweetheart.”

Laughter. Your family is laughing at you when your uncle starts to caress your slick folds, and your cheeks are burning. You force out a hollow chuckle even as you feel like crying. How can none of them see what is happening? How can they just ignore how his arm is moving, outstretched and obvious? They go back to their little conversations like usual and you bite back a whimper when his fingers find your clit.

Your uncle leans close to you, the scent of Amouage Jubilation and cigar smoke unable to completely cover the wine on his breath.

“It’s fine. A little thing like you can’t be expected to keep up with everything.”

Your thighs have fallen open under the table and you glance at him, wordlessly begging him to stop tracing idle, teasing patterns on your slick flesh. But he just smiles, adds another finger, and turns to the others for a new story.

The hand inside your underwear starts to work on you quicker when you notice how your mother looks at you. There’s an uneasy smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and the slightest, helpless crease between her brows. The feeling of betrayal snakes into the bottom of your stomach and laces the pleasure even more bitter than humiliation did.

“Everything okay, angel?”

And you know there’s only one answer she’ll allow. You have to close your eyes so no one would notice them roll back in your head as your uncle presses the heel of his palm against your mound and starts rubbing his fingers in tight circles.

“Yes…” you moan through gritted teeth, eyes squeezing closed as you come on your uncle’s hand, under your mother’s gaze. The seat underneath you has a wet patch now, and you are feeling lightheaded, breathless. Your uncle just pats your thigh, fingers slick and sticky with you. Inconspicuously, in the middle of laughing at his own anecdote, he wipes his fingers in a napkin that he then tucks in his pocket.

Your parents are overjoyed when, after the dinner, your uncle asks if he can take you for a vacation to his house in the Amalfi Coast.

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I don’t know what it is but i just wanna be in the backseat in a car full of strangers that picked me up from the club and i’m crammed in the backseat, trying to push their hands off me until one of them grabs my chin and forces their tongue in my mouth while they spread my legs over their and the other persons knee “take a picture of this sluts pussy” before a flash from the passenger from seat goes off, and my top is shoved down so my tits bounce free

“dumb whore wanted this to happen, look at her.” and i can’t do anything but try and push them away but they’re so much bigger and stronger than i am )):

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make me cry as you force your cock into my ass. you pin me down, you're so much stronger than me. my tears soak the pillow. i can't breathe properly. it feels like you're ripping my hole apart. you tell me i deserve the pain. how i should have put more time into training my ass if i didn't want it to hurt this much. that you own all of my holes and you're gonna take whichever hole you want at all times. that all the edging has made my pussy too wet to fuck it anymore. you moan as you keep violating my hole. no mercy. you yank my head up by my hair, say you want to hear me cry. i feel you grow even harder as i beg you to stop. i know you won't. i'm just a fucktoy to you.

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Nothing turns me on more than someone playing with my mouth. Press your thumb to my lips and it's going in my mouth. Let me kiss, bite and suck. Let me taste you. Sit on my face as I eat you out, or hold me down and fuck my throat. I want my mouth to be your favorite toy.