Slut Boy Mega Collection Volume 1

Chapter Twelve-2

Slut-boy blinks up at me. He glances at the ceiling mirror, swallows again and licks his dry lips. Then he makes his decision.

“I will take it on my belly, Goddess.”

“Good,” I sneer. “That’s fitting for a sniveling little worm like you!”

Slut-boy flushes with shame. Yet he doesn’t hesitate to obey my next orders.

“In that case, take that long cylindrical bolster from under your head, position it lengthwise in the center of the bed, straddle it with your body and lie down atop it. You’ll want your face right at the end, so you can grip it with your teeth.”

While he obeys me I take a minute to generously lube up. Surely this will be the tightest hole I’ve ever had! When I turn back, Slut-boy is lying as directed atop that thick, firm bolster, and clutching it with his arms and legs. But he’s also fervently humping it, squashing it in his crotch, pumping his hips and rubbing his surely burning erection against it.

Fucking Slut-boy!

Is he stupid or what? Doesn’t he get it yet that every iota of s****l pleasure he ever experiences from now on will be grudgingly authorized and very rarely doled out by me? For a minute rage eclipses me, turning my mad lust for butt-f*****g him into something far more dangerous. But at last I regain control.

Okay, so he’s technically not touching himself. I should have been more explicit. Still, he’s violating the spirit of the law, if not the letter. And he will definitely pay! Not five minutes into our relationship as goddess and slut, and he’s already earned his first big punishment – not that he wasn’t going to get one anyway, of course. I mean seriously: he wasn’t leaving here tonight without his back whipped raw, his butt beaten black and blue and the backs of his thighs caned into flaming purple stripes, was he? But now I’ve got an incentive to be extra-zealous in my attentions. Nevertheless, first things must come first. And you can be damn sure I’m going to be extra-zealous with my giant p***s too!

“Stop that!” I order, as I return to the bed. “No pleasure without permission! I thought I made that clear. You will be punished later for your disobedience. Now spread your legs as wide as you can! Your pathetic excuse for a s*x life is about to begin.”

Trembling visibly he obeys. I move into position behind him, grip his delightfully firm, plump butt-cheeks and spread them out wide. Catching my breath, shivering myself with anticipation, I align the big bulbous head of my erection with his tiny pink pucker and prepare to take that wonderful, momentous first thrust. And then the stupid-s**t slut has the temerity to break my savored concentration.

“Please be gentle, Goddess,” he gasps without permission.

Enraged anew by this distraction, I lose control and pound it viciously into him, as hard and deep as possible given the constraints of his body size and virginity. He screams in pain, writhing beneath me. Sweat pops out all over his body.

“SPEAK ONLY WHEN SPOKEN TO SLAVE!” I roar in my rage. “I had indeed intended to be gentle! But you can forget about that now! Now I’m going to be cruel, merciless, incredibly violent and impossibly insatiable! So take all that and deal with it if you can, Slut-boy!”

I rear back and just hammer into him, getting every pound of my considerable weight and every iota of my outrage behind that big, thick, invading black c**k. And this time more than half its length disappears up his impossibly tight little opening. Again he squeals like a stuck pig, tears streaming down his face, and as I pull back for another thrust he seizes upon the available expedient on clamps the end of the bolster between his teeth. Not only does this allow him to choke his screams off into grunting sobs, it anchors him in place. This keeps him from being pounded off the pillow and right through the headboard and wall by the impossible power of my thrusts, as I begin building up toward my usual runaway pneumatic drill rhythm.

As possessed by lust and rage as I am, I reach this much more quickly than usual despite that tight-tight-tight resistance. Within a minute I’ve reached maximum depth, pile-driving the entire length and girth of my erection into him in a hip-slapping, bed-rocking frenzy. Pounding him against the pillow, I have his body slipping back and forth rhythmically and his grunting-screeching-sobbing response (music to my ears, oh heavenly music to my ears!) accelerating right along with my anal assault. Overcome by sadistic excitement, utterly possessed by my madly escalating joy-rage-arousal, I f**k my new Slut-boy with an unbridled passion I haven’t approached in years. Eating up his obvious agony, reveling in the abysmal shame I can hear him experiencing in each choked vocalization, I climb more swiftly toward my first orgasm than ever before. And then suddenly it explodes through me. A thermonuclear cataclysm of madly firing nerve-endings, it drives me to such climactic conniptions that even over my own piercing screams I can hear my Slut-boy wailing endlessly in agony. My big c**k is a black blur as it pounds in and out of him, and the brutal power of my thrusts at last breaks the grip of his teeth and drives him forward. Still I grip his hips with both of my hands, holding him in place and even lifting him into the air, allowing me even greater access to his ass: gleefully maximizing the incredible depth of my ecstatic penetration. It seems an eternity then that I peak and peak and peak and f**k f**k f**k my brand new slut to insane heights and depths of delirium respectively. But at last those inner convulsions lapse and my insane exertion falters. I can sustain either no longer.

I pull my Slut-boy back into place and drop him atop the bolster. Then I drop forward exhausted, propping myself on my palms above my sobbing conquest and reduce my formerly manic rhythm to a delicious succession of long, slow, gradual penetrations. Still filling him up to the hilt, I now take my sweet, sweet time doing so. This permits me to catch my breath while allowing Slut-boy the opportunity to slowly learn how to accommodate me.

Whimpering piteously beneath me, he takes my c**k like this for at least ten long minutes. Yet even by then he hasn’t betrayed his acceptance and eventual greed by raising his butt of his own accord, and no wonder. That may have been the most vicious, violent f**k of my life on the tightest, tenderest, most sheltered little virgin I’ve ever captured. The trauma of it for him must have been commensurate with the surpassing ecstasy of it for me...

Oh well, too bad for him. I’ve finally regained my strength and need, and the evening is only barely beginning. Soon I’m once again taking Slut-boy with all the power and pace I can muster, and once again he’s sobbing and blubbering and mindlessly screaming around his mouthful of wet stuffed fabric.

Twice more over the course of an hour I pound my way to an incredible climax in that stiffly reluctant ass, until at last Slut-boy’s broken in and loosened up enough to take me without so much trauma. Then I’m really able to drive it into him. And despite this impossible increase in speed and power the magic moment finally arrives.

So transported by ecstasy am I that I almost don’t notice when Slut-boy finally freely stops biting the bolster. But then I realize that his sobs have also stopped. He still grunts like a skewered piglet every time my big c**k sticks him, but his accompanying groans have now morphed into moans, and yes, of his own accord he’s at last begun to lift up his virgin ass.

Arching his back, he’s willingly offering up his hole to me! Despite the over-the-top brutality of his deflowering, he’s suddenly, if reluctantly, eager for me to increase the already insane speed and depth of my manic penetrations! Looking in the mirror in front of us, I see that he’s also raised his beet-red, tear-streaked face, and is using the headboard mirror to ravenously ogle my bouncing, jouncing, madly dancing breasts.

Obviously these are the first real t**s he’s ever seen, and as I’ve said, mine are incomparably spectacular. I let him feast on the sight a few minutes, until the tenor of his moans and the urgency with which he raises his ass to me leave no doubt about the depth of his arousal. Then, not missing a stroke of my hips, I grab him by the ponytail and yank his head radically back, until his feverish gaze meets mine in the mirror.

“Your c**k is hard again, isn’t it, Slut-boy?” I demand.

“Y-y-yes G-G-God-dess,” he admits, his voice broken up by the rapid rhythm of my slamming thrusts.

“Harder than it’s ever been before?”

“Y-y-yes G-G-God-dess!”

“It feels good doesn’t it, all painfully hard, mashed into a round firm pillow and pulled back and forth by the power of my big prick f*****g you?”

“Y-y-yes G-G-God-d-dess! O-o-o-o-o-o-ooohhhhhhhhhh!”

Slut-boy’s drawn-out stuttering moan is so evocative it cranks my own madly ecstatic excitement up another notch, and somehow I accelerate my insane ass attack up another impossible increment. Still I manage to continue interrogating him.

“My... cock... feels... good... pound... ing... your... ass... too... doesn’t... it?”

This time the moan comes first. “O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-OOOOO! It-it-it f-f-f-fee-eels gr-gr-gr-gr-GRE-A-A-A-AT!”

Suddenly he bursts into tears again, either at the shame of this admission or due to the uncontainable excess of sensation he’s experiencing. Still I keep plunging unstoppably into him. And since it’s out of my hands anyway I gladly grant him conditional permission for this.

“O... kay...Slut...boy...I...allow...you...to...enjoy...both! But... don’t... you... DARE... come!” And with that I release his head and pour every last bit of my strength and passion into f*****g his finally greedy ass.

I pound and pound and pound away, absolutely out of my mind with power and dominance and heavenly glory. Oh, how I f**k that simpering little slut! Still, five more minutes or so is all I can possibly sustain of this, before finally shrieking and hammering out my fourth incredible orgasm of the evening.

Naturally Slut-boy is shrieking with pain-need-lust-shame by this time too. And when I at last pull my rampaging c**k from his outrageously cored out ass he bursts out weeping once again: overwhelmed by the incredible experience just past and yet still somehow maddeningly unfulfilled. He sobs miserably next to me as I at last collapse gasping on the bed, and once again the sound is beautiful music to me. I lie there and savor it for twenty minutes or more, until at last it stops and I’ve recovered enough to take the next step in his eternal enslavement.

“Okay, boy,” I sigh, “Come with me. You have finally proved yourself a totally willing, disgustingly eager d**k slut. It’s time you looked the part.”

“What... what do you mean?”

“You’ll see. Now come with me!”

“But... but Goddess... I don’t think I can walk. In fact I know I can’t!”

“Very well,” I sigh.

Effortlessly I scoop my newly broken-in slut up in my arms and carry him into my extensively appointed wardrobe. There I gently deposit him into a specially installed hair-dresser’s chair – not bothering to secure him with all the locking straps. After all, he’s proved most quiescent so far, and this isn’t the first time I’ve f****d a slut to absolute jelly, and had to carry him in here – or from one piece of fiendish equipment to another down in my diabolical dungeon, for that matter. With a few quick pumps of a foot pedal I raise my newest slut up to my comfort level, and then recline him a bit. Then I go about the delightful business of forcibly feminizing this newest acquisition of mine.