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[push-harder00]

Bowl

You stare at the empty bowl with dread. Your body aching and weak.

It started when I put you on that diet. After a long day of being used by me or being whored out to whoever I saw fit. You would help me cook dinner. I say ‘help’ though it was more for my entertainment.

On your knees, next to the trash can, looking up as I cook, you’d wait. I’d place my boot on your cunt, and, like the can, your mouth would dutifully open when I pushed down. I loved seeing you try to force down onion peels and carrot tops after scraping them into your mouth. Of course, anything scraped onto the floor you would be forced to lick up and eat.

If I was feeling especially cruel, I’d unzip my trousers, press down with my boot and watch you squirm to keep your mouth open as I pissed. Pushing harder if your mouth showed signs of shutting.

After I’d finish, you’d crawl to the living room. Getting yourself into position where the low table in front of the tv used to stand.

I’d sit on the sofa and give your ass a spank to get you into position to rest the plate on your back. Any time you lost your form, I’d give you another hard smack to regain your position. I’d eat, switch the tv on, relax with my feet rested on your back.

Forcing you to smell my meal after not having eaten all day was torture for you.

After eating, I’d scrape any leftovers from my meal into your bowl, sometimes I’d scrape in some other scraps from the kitchen. You looked at me so pleadingly, just like a dog about to be fed as I put the rest of the morsels in your bowl.

I thought I had trained you properly, to eat slowly, to swallow your food properly, to look fuckable with your ass raised, even when eating. Yet when I placed the bowl down you leapt to it. Piggishly eating it as fast as you could.

A lesson was in order.

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Table

“Strip”. She removes her shirt, her skirt, her leggings, her underwear, her bra. She stands there, naked, as her clothes lie in a pile at her feet.

“Present”. Slowly she brings her hands to cup her tits, as if bunching them out for me. I walk over to her, pinching one nipple as my other hand reaches to her clit, a finger entering as she forces herself to suppress the moan, she’s not allowed to make noises without permission.

“Put those away, you won’t be needing them”. Naked, she picks up her garments and begins folding them neatly over the table.

As she finishes, she turns to look to me. I beckon her to come closer, as she stands below me, I reach gently to caress her neck, she lets out a gentle moan. “I’ve missed you so much master, I want you to take me, make me feel like a slut”. A palm sternly hits her right cheek, she gasps “Pathetic sluts like you don’t get to ask their owners to do anything. Seeing as you already seem to be forgetting your training, some discipline is in order”. I take the black, thick leather collar and attach it to her neck, holding the leash in my other hand.

“Knees”. Instantly, she dropped to her knees. “Eyes”. Those cute, pleading brown eyes look up feverishly, a slight fear, a determination, an innocence.

“What are you?”. “I am yours master, I am your toy, your slave, your bitch. I exist purely to serve you” “And why are you being punished today?” “ I broke your rules master, I tried to tell you what to do, how to use my body, please master, please forgive me”.

“Whore, crawl over there and fetch the clamps” She begins to crawl over to the chair “Ass up slut, look fuckable”, she stops, and begins to arch her back more, looking over her shoulder at me for my approval. “Passable, go on”.

She makes her way to the leather armchair, and with her mouth picks up the 2 clamps attached by a thin chain. She crawls back, looking up at me, like a puppy with a bone. “Drop it”. she lets it go. She looks up, I spit hard at her face “Such a worthless little cunt” I spit hard at the ground beneath my feet. “Clean it, and thank me” “Thank you master, thank you for letting your pathetic slut taste you, it is an honor my master” “rub those tits against the floor when you’re cleaning”. Bending over and arching forwards, her breasts and tongue make contact with the cold stone floor.

As she desperately licks the spit up from the floor I unzip my trousers, a hot stream lands in her hair and on the floor as she continues to lick, faster now.

“Such a pathetic little piggy, oink for me as you lick it up”. I tug hard on the leash and clamps, forcing her to squeal. I tug again, harder this time. “Good piggies rub their faces on the floor”. She began desperately rubbing her cheeks in the mixture of piss and spit on the floor. I tugged again, she squealed and winced.

I tug once more and she looks up at me. “Fuckpig, mouth”. She opens her mouth and I immediately force the whole of my throbbing cock down the length of her throat . I hold it there, until she pukes.

“Fucking pig, clean this off of me”. Immediately, she starts licking and cleaning her puke and juices off of my legs and cock.

After she cleans me, she kneels obediently, mouth open. I begin roughly skullfucking her, relentlessly forcing her little mouth onto my cock. Finally, I cum down her throat.

“Now go back to your cage and think about what you’ve done piggy”

[push-harder00]

Date Night

She came in dressed beautifully, the elegant black dress, gently hugging her perfect ass, the delicate pearl necklace clasped around her neck, her perfect auburn hair, flowing lusciously to her shoulders. Her long, silklike coat, encasing her perfect figure.

I greet her and lead her by the waist into the dining room. Soft, lilting guitar is playing. The meal is presented immaculately in the soft candlelight of the otherwise warm, yet dimly lit room.

There are two seats at the table.

“Pig!” A second door to the dining room creaks open. Meekly, on all fours you crawl towards us. Both your nipples are still sore from the recent piercing, a thin chain runs between them, trailing into a single long leash that snakes across the floor as you move. Your eyeliner is still leaking from when I made you cry earlier today. Your ass, still black from this morning’s beating. Your thick, ridiculous looking red makeup in a crude circle around your mouth. Your hair still covered in cum and urine. The marker writing on your forehead roughly spelling “HOLE”.

“Pig, this is your new mistress, oink for her”

You snort and oink twice, your head still looking solely at her feet, her acrylic, black heels. You see your reflection, you’re unrecognizable from the once cute, innocent girl that decided she wanted something more intense all those months ago. She smiles down at you, as you mindlessly gaze at her feet, a hard blow strikes you in the stomach. It was not a punishment, there was no reason for it, but she kicked you anyway. You yelp.

“Take our coats”. Repositioning yourself on your knees, you hold out your arms. Our thick coats fall heavily onto you.

“Go” you turn around, making sure you avoid eye contact at all times, as you begin to stand, you feel an intense tug on your tits, forcing you back to your knees. “Since when did pigs stand?” You look back at the ground and shuffle silently on your knees towards the cloakroom, the occasional jolt to your hard nipples causing you to shudder as you suppress your reaction.

Within the cloakroom, as you hang our coats, you overhear “God you look so fucking perfect today” as I softly caress her smooth, soft cheeks. Giggling, she replies “Not too bad yourself either”. You wonder whether you’ll ever experience romance like that again. You watch our embrace as we kiss.

Entering back into the room, we’re both seated. I tap my foot twice and you eagerly crawl underneath the table, I unbutton my trousers and you watch my semi hard cock spring free, without hesitation, you begin placing your lips around it and sucking gently. Your head bobs up and down as you hear us talk, grown up things, things you don’t understand anymore. Your only focus is taking me as deeply as you can, eagerly moving your throat forwards. You feel a pressure behind your head as I force you deeper onto it. You gag. I continue to hold you down. You puke. I hold you down as you struggle to breathe for a few seconds before letting go. Though you’re still gasping for air, you instantly, apologetically lap up every drop of your mess.

We finish our meal, scraping our leftovers into your bowl.