The Key To Feminine Contentment

Chapter Two-3

With that shameful exhortation Caitlin at last dropped her insidiously convincing commentary in favor of devoting all her energies to her increasingly even more persuasive copulation. Soon she leaned all the way forward, planting her hands on the bed to either side of my head and propping herself up on her knees and palms. Then with those glorious breasts dangling right in my face and flopping wildly about just above me she began f*****g my ass in absolutely frenzied fashion. Panting heavily and moaning in compellingly contagious fashion she slapped her crotch against mine, stabbing her c**k relentlessly into me as though demonically possessed. And true to her word this somehow irresistible assault at last broke through a lifetime’s worth of supposedly impregnable inner barriers to create exactly what she wished of me: a willingly enslaved butt-slut hopelessly in love with her.

It didn’t happen all at once. But in full-on, balls-out action lovely Caitlin was an amazingly arousing spectacle: all blazing eyes, bared incisors, hotly flushed face framed by swinging silken tresses and most of all those madly dancing breasts. Among other things she was quickly proving right about, two were foremost. She obviously knew far more about enjoying s*x than any girl my own age. None of the girls I’d slept with in high school had been even close to this impassioned. They might as well have been asleep during the act compared to this rampaging female dynamo. And that fact redundantly demonstrated the other.

Clearly robbing the virginity from naïve guys like me was far more rewarding for Caitlin than any conventional s*x act could ever be. Even at the hair-yanking, mouth-abrading orgasmic height of her face riding frenzy she hadn’t been nearly as exhilarated as she was looming over me and drilling her double c**k simultaneously into both of our bodies. Watching her in absolutely awe-struck arousal, I was helplessly aware before long that my own c**k was once again so hard that it hurt, and not just from the sight of her sadistic transport or that weirdly compelling sliding inner pressure. Of course, that too became more insistently arousing the harder and faster she f****d me. But once again I was surprised to find that even my bondage and helplessness was perversely contributing to my excitement.

Utterly against my will, these combined stimuli soon had me panting harshly through my nose with wild s****l upset. I wasn’t even aware that I’d begun to lift my hips to her, maximizing both that maddening friction on my prostate and the depth to which her stabbing prick was able to touch me until cruelly clever Caitlin called me on this, panting out the words one at a time in counterpoint to the relentless beat of her butt-pumping rhythm.

“That’s… right… b***h… boy… lift… up… your… ass! Take… it… deep… as… you… can! You… love… it… and… you… know… it!”

And that finally did it.

Terribly sexy Caitlin was right yet again, always right. Obeying both her gasped commands and the treacherous dictates of my own deeply shameful excitement, I yearned upward at her as desperately as I had earlier. Only this time my raging hard-on wasn’t pressed between her breasts, or being madly jacked by her expert fist, but merely slapped painfully against my groin by the demanding impetus of her endlessly lunging hips and plunging prick. Still profoundly humiliated and hating myself for what I was becoming, I at last acquiesced entirely to the inevitable.

Moaning and yelping urgently into my aromatic gag, I gave myself wholly over to the wildly perverse yet sickly exhilarating experience being forced upon me. With every expression of my eyes, face, voice, and most of all my unmistakable body language I urged gloriously superior Caitlin to f**k me ever harder, faster, and deeper. And she most exceedingly complied. Obeying not my desperate urging but rather her own burgeoning, uncontrollable lust she at last dropped fully atop me. Pressing her cheek to my own and gripping my shoulders from below to anchor herself she began stabbing more maniacally into me than ever.

Tightly compressed between our connected crotches and subjected to the intense friction of our urgent f*****g, my erection quickly became so aroused I could barely stand it. Soon I felt as though I might actually come again, a twice-in-one-night ejaculation that I’d never yet managed. But before that could happen, Caitlin’s ecstatic screams and jab-stabbing speed rose even further in amplitude and frequency and she suddenly convulsed atop me in the wrenching excess of her own incredible climax. Then pitilessly leaving me gasping at the precipice and crushed with lost immanence she pulled out of my ass and rose back up onto her palms and knees. Smiling triumphantly down and dripping sweat on my face she resumed her cruelly accurate taunting.

“So, b***h-boy, that was everything I said it would be, wasn’t it?”

Tears leaking from my eyes and all resistance vanquished I nodded submissively up at her in all her overwhelming beauty, desirability, and limitless female superiority.

“You almost had an orgasm again, didn’t you?” Again I nodded.

“And you want nothing more than for me to f**k you again until you do, am I right?” For a third time I signaled in the affirmative, and Caitlin laughed long and hard in deliciously rich appreciation before surprising me with an affectionate kiss on the forehead.

“And so I will. I’m going to f**k you all night long if that’s what it takes. But first I’m going to spank you. You were a naughty boy earlier, thinking hateful thoughts of revenge on me. Don’t try to deny it; I’ve seen that look on dozens of occasions. You were naughty, and naughty boys need to be punished. So I’m going to beat you, and then I’m going to f**k you, and each time you don’t come before I do, the following beating is going to get worse. But that’s all right. A properly submissive slave needs to learn to crave being disciplined and dominated physically and emotionally as well as sexually. You’ve still got a big night ahead of you, b***h-boy!”

And so for nearly twenty minutes she spanked my bare ass hard before f*****g it again. And once again she reached her climax ahead of me. And so followed long hours of being beaten with ever worse implements and butt-f****d in other, more degrading positions. And whenever Caitlin untied me in order to direct me into a different posture before restraining me again I submitted to her docilely, with escape or revenge banished completely from my mind.

And so she seemingly endlessly belabored my backside: with a hairbrush, a yardstick, a sorority paddle, and even a stiff leather riding crop she’d obtained from somewhere. And true to her predictive demand I eventually progressed from enduring to accepting, to perversely enjoying to finally slavishly craving the ever increasing pain, treasuring it as the righteous expression of her supreme superiority over me. At last, lying face-down with my crotch straddling a pillow and my arms bound tightly together behind me at the elbows she whipped my already extensively bruised ass with a belt until I was sobbing unabashedly with grateful agony. And when she f****d me in that position then, her crotch further relentlessly spanking my poor abused buttocks and her c**k spearing me more deeply than ever before (its curve now also pressing down on my inverted prostate more forcefully than ever) I finally ejaculated for the second time in six hours, achieving what was undeniably my most draining, rewarding orgasm ever despite the tiny amount of seed I spasmodically spewed out.

With that, Goddess Caitlin (but only after finishing f*****g me to her own eighth orgasm, of course) finally pronounced me a fully broken-in butt-slave. She released me from my bonds then and imperiously ordered me out of her house.

Just like she’d said I would, I begged her in the most abject manner imaginable to see me at least one more time. And of course, she scornfully refused, driving me naked from her divine presence to sneak outside, retrieve my wallet-less pants and shoes from the ground below her window and creep miserably back to my dorm room at the crack of dawn.

Filled as I was with agonizingly unrequited love for gorgeous, glorious Goddess Caitlin it never even occurred to me to try to get my money back. All I was able to take away from our indelibly memorable encounter – aside from my wounded, deflowered body, broken heart and psyche, and a desperate craving too shameful to admit to anyone who might consider sating it – was the wet, crumpled pair of panties that had stuffed full my mouth for so many inexplicably thrilling hours. Set against the loss of so much else, at least I’ll have these to cry over – and frantically masturbate with – for the rest of my woefully empty, sexually penurious life.