Dangerous Redemption

Chapter Two-2

Forcing her way between my thrashing legs, Goddess Julia fell forward atop me, once again burying my twisting face between her oversized breasts. Her big stiff prick, slick with some kind of lubricant, pressed into my belly and her knees trapped my thighs. Leaving my lower legs to kick fruitlessly about she crushed these to the mattress and nudged them inexorably apart. Her hot breath ruffled my sweaty hair as she hissed excitedly (and excitingly) down at me.

“That’s right my pathetic peon, struggle for all you’re worth! Fight for your junk and your life! If you want either of these to make it through the night you’d better make this experience worth my effort!”

Overcharged with chemical stimulant and overweening zeal she wrestled with me, the hot springy press of her flesh and domineering power arousing me insanely. Aside from my lower legs, the only part of me completely free was my genitals, and oh, how my amazingly urgent erection raged to sheath itself in her surely heavenly wetness!

Panting in synch we struggled maddeningly on, with me writhing and bucking ineffectually beneath her and Goddess pinning me squashed and spraddled to the bed while laughing richly at my helpless terror. Soon enough she trapped my thrashing head between her forearms, and bringing all her weight to bear on me began once again battering my sputtering face with her breasts before smothering me between them.

Spurred by panicked anoxia – and keenly increased arousal – to even greater efforts, I at last managed to shift her enough to snatch a breath and even almost succeeded in throwing her partway off me. And with that playtime was over. Snarling a terrible vindictive curse Goddess Julia suddenly brought a knee up hard into my open crotch, slamming a powerful blow into my balls for the second time in less than half an hour. With that all the strength left my body and I collapsed in retching agony, hers to have her way with to her mad heart’s desire.

She wasted no time.

With my resistance, defeated Goddess Julia rose up and moved back until she was crouching between my spread legs. She lifted these up, hooked her elbows through my knees and fell forward again, raising my ass and legs even as she dropped between them atop me. Despite the agony, roiling in my midsection I remained immensely turned on, and this only increased it. Indeed because it was my Goddess who’d inflicted it on me the pain seemed to add a special spice to my arousal. I could almost envision coming to crave this with enough repetition, like a searing hot sauce in chili, or the particular panic-thrill I experienced when my life seemed threatened. In any case with beautiful Julia sneering and snarling at me through her chillingly impersonal mask only inches away, with the weight of her body squashing my splayed crotch – and my alternately bruised and raging genitals – and the big blunt head of her erection probing roughly for my opening, I was caught squirming between breathless lust and that desperate terror of what this inconceivably shameful experience was about to make of me. Then of course, it was upon me in all its unavoidably invasive reality. Finding access at last Goddess Julia’s long, hard, painfully thick c**k suddenly forced its way through my defensively puckering anus. Then aided by its residual lubrication this rammed deep up into me with one unstoppable thrust of the overdeveloped muscles of her butt.

Naturally I cried out in an inarticulate mix of pain, shame, dismay at the quick extinction of my confidently unconscious masculinity and reluctantly excessive arousal at being so fundamentally claimed and changed by my now certainly eternal soul owner. Heaving her body forward, that owner slid into me to the hilt, piercing not only my body to its absolute limit but also my even more vulnerable psyche. Holding my legs spread high and wide above my head, pinning me to the bed in more ways than one, she bared her teeth in a gleaming leer and met my weeping eyes with her own hotly blazing ones through the holes in that black leather mask.

“Take it male! Take every agonizing, humiliating inch! How do you like being raped, huh? How do you like having a big stiff c**k forced inside you against your will and then pounded relentlessly in and out until you can’t even walk? Well you’re about to find out you evil, disgusting peon! You’re about to suffer what I did and so much more. I hope it cripples you as a man forever!”

And with that Goddess Julia began f*****g me. Pouring all of her hatred, vengefulness, drive to wound, humiliate and subjugate me, along with all of her already considerable cocaine-aided energies into this unspeakably domineering act she rose up onto her toes, gripped my shoulders tightly with her hands and began violently pumping her divinely desirable body against me.

Oh, Goddess it hurt! Oh, it degraded me so comprehensively! It was so incredibly, limitlessly exciting! Grunting with effort Goddess worked her body atop mine, her big firm breasts mashed against my chest, her leather-covered cheek pressed to my tear-wet one, her undulating abdomen rhythmically squashing my iron-hard c**k and her glorious weight crushing me deep into the slick soft mattress. But most evocative of all of course was the brutally penetrative thrusting of her cylindrical thickness deep into a part of me that had never known the entrance of anything. Even as she obliterated my anal virginity Goddess Julia instantly eradicated the last remaining vestige of my hesitation to accept a helpless new s****l use to which I was now forever to be put.

All of her inexplicably thrilling dominance of me might have been solely dedicated to preparing me for this ultimate in s****l subjugation. Though I was sobbing uncontrollably, it was more from an overload of emotional intensity than physical or psychological distress – though those made up an essential component of this truly transformational experience. The pain and shame of being forcibly raped were integral to the ultimate sense of submission swamping me, and the harder Goddess drilled herself into my formerly most private self, the more cruelly and completely she made my body and soul her own, the greater the ecstasy of abnegation I wallowed in. Meanwhile mistaking my barking sobs and uncontrolled keening for the undiluted misery, she craved in me inspired viciously vengeful Julia to ever more frenzied efforts of her own, until she was battering me with her hips and stabbing me with her prick in a downright murderous transport. It was as if she believed she could make an exquisitely torturous end to me and all of masculinity if only she wielded the weapon of her c**k with sufficient force and fervor. She f****d me; ah, Goddess she f****d my helpless, vulnerable, tender little ass with a frothing, snarling, downright demonic passion, driving me to extremes of sensation, emotion, and physiological arousal more intense than I could ever have possibly conceived. Then she began accelerating her way toward orgasm.

I’d thought I was being brutally butt-f****d out of my impossibly naïve mind. I’d thought Goddess’ pace, power, and drug-aided drive to dominate and punish me were at an impossible peak. How woefully inadequate my imagination, even maybe my innate ability to comprehend the divinity enjoying me! She had bodily resources and sources of malign motivation that beggar description. Soon even that monstrous bed was shuddering with the insane impetus of her pneumatically hammering butt-thrusts, and soon I was screaming right along with her as her already incredible exertions escalated toward some unutterably divine consummation. And yet even when that first peak was achieved, when her piercing screams and accompanying sewing-machine speed reached an unmistakably orgasmic pitch, this transcendent ecstasy was merely a plateau, a jumping off point from which to pursue orgasms number three, four, and five of the evening.

Over the course of the forty or so minutes in which Goddess relentlessly stab-hammered into me, I was of course inevitably left behind while she scaled ever more stratospheric heights of psychosexual abandon. My mortality simply wasn’t the equal of her supernatural needs and abilities. Eventually I was reduced to lying slackly under her unendurable onslaught, f****d to a simmering puddle of unsustainable or relievable arousal and supremely defeated masculinity. Battered insensate, she might have been f*****g mud as far as my extensively wounded rectum was concerned. And although her amazing performance and limitlessly intimate proximity kept my own s****l excitement at an excruciating pitch, the impossibility of orgasm for me had driven me into a debilitating delirium by the time Goddess finally gasped and shrieked and stabbed out and into me her most transcendent climax of all. Then as she finally collapsed panting explosively atop me, her perpetually erect prick still buried to the hilt and bodily fluids gluing us together, my bawling of unabashed relief was entirely genuine.

I’d found my s****l calling in life, my singular overriding purpose, that much was obvious. Undeniable as well however was the fact that I was still a contemptible novice at such use. I needed a lifetime at least, if not truly an eternity of such quintessential physical and emotional subjugation to be worthy of such a limitlessly superior goddess. Now if only I could manage to earn the opportunity!

At least I had hours more in which to pursue such a goal.

Once the incomparable Goddess Julia recovered enough to move she withdrew from me, sat on the foot of the bed and smoked a cigarette, eying me appraisingly all the while. Unwilling to risk anything that might ultimately count against me I remained silent and submissive under her scrutiny. Lying limp and splay-legged in my implacable bonds I concentrated on my own slow recovery, eschewing all thought of where this unprecedently extreme and fundamentally transformative night might lead.

Finally, Goddess rose, poured out a hefty portion of tequila and knocked it back without a grimace. She moved to the stereo, replaced Moonflower with an even more jamming instrumental album (Shut Up & Play Your Guitar, by Frank Zappa) and did several more lines of coke. Then, sniffing, grinning, and wiping her nose, she moved purposely back over to me.

“That was fun, my poor little peon. But you still have an unconscionably impudent erection. I seem to remember telling you I was going to f**k you absolutely senseless tonight, until you were out of your ridiculous mind. And we’re obviously not nearly there yet. So we’re going to do that again, and again, until I’ve finally had my fill of you. And you’d damn well better make each time as exciting as the first one. Otherwise an eternity of d**k-less toilet service awaits you.”

Again, my glorious Goddess climbed onto the bed, her big c**k and breasts bobbing enticingly. Again, she fell eagerly atop me, determined to have her brutal way with me. And again, I struggled wildly against her. This time however despite the dire threat to my genitals, life and afterlife I was unable to muster the same level of frantic resistance. My formerly imperiled and desperately defended self-conceptions had of course long since succumbed to my slavishly submissive new identity, and whether Goddess recognized it or not this act was no longer rape by any stretch of the definition. Despite my incomplete recovery from our previous marathon copulation, I was intensely eager to be so quintessentially sexually subjugated again. And frankly, I was exhausted.

I didn’t have any bottomless wells of vindictive fury to tap, nor did I have any additional artificial stimulant coursing through my bloodstream. Of course, this night of endless adrenaline, unprecedented s****l indulgence, mortal terror and profound personal change had been tremendously debilitating already. All I had to bring to this second extremely unequal wrestling match was the breathless excitement of proximity: to Julia’s heavenly body, lavishly potent personality and the imminent prospect of more intensely arousing domination. To add to this however I was able to muster up a grim determination of my own: to prove myself worthy enough to merit such insanely compelling subjugation on a regular basis. Never had I wanted anything more. So in spite of my leaden limbs I once again bucked and thrashed and kicked and twisted like a madman, whimpering continuously in what I dearly hoped was an enflaming manner as I supposedly fought to protect my non-existent virtue.