Chapter 14: The Morning Anal Whore
The shower water had been scalding, but it hadn’t burned the feeling away. A phantom soreness lingered, a deep internal bruise that pulsed softly in time with her heartbeat. Kelly moved through the afternoon like a ghost inhabiting her own life. She made Ben a sandwich, listened to him talk about a project deadline, nodded in all the right places. The smile she glued to her face felt brittle, a ceramic thing that might crack and cut her.
When Ben left, the silence rushed back in, louder than before.She stood in the living room, staring at the couch. The cushions were fluffed, the blanket neatly folded.No evidence remained. Yet the room felt permanently altered, the air itself stained. She went to the hall closet, pushed aside winter coats, and felt for the small, carved wooden box on the high shelf.Her fingers closed around it.It was light. She carried it to the living room as if it were filled with explosives.
Inside, nestled in velvet, lay the plug.It looked innocent, almost pretty. She took it out, its weight familiar and accusing.The ritual was becoming routine. Gel, a deep breath, the press and the slow, yielding invasion.She gasped as it seated itself, the stretch a punishing reminder. This time, she left her robe on. It was silk, pale blue, and it whispered against her skin as she paced.At eleven o’clock, the key turned. The sound was no longer a surprise; it was a trigger.Her cunt, of its own vile accord, grew slick.
Jack entered, closing the door softly.He looked her over, his gaze lingering on the tie of her robe. “Coffee smells good,” he said casually, as if he’d come for a visit. He shrugged off his light jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. Then his eyes sharpened, all pretense of normality falling away. “On your knees.”
Her robe whispered open as she sank down onto the rug, the cool air hitting her naked skin. He stood before her, unbuckling his belt, the leather sliding through the loops with a hiss.His trousers dropped. His cock, already thick and flushed, stood rigidly against his belly.He didn’t guide her head. He just looked down and waited.
She leaned forward, her mouth dry until the first touch of his skin against her lips.She opened, taking the salty, smooth head onto her tongue. The taste of him, clean soap and something musky and intrinsically male, filled her senses. She began to move, her hand coming up to wrap around the base of his shaft, her mouth working down his length.
“That’s it,” he muttered, his voice a low vibration above her. “Use your tongue.”
She obeyed, licking the sensitive vein underneath, tracing the rim. Her own arousal was a sharp, unwelcome spike. The plug inside her shifted with the motion of her head, a solid, intrusive pressure against her inner walls.A moan escaped her, vibrating around his cock.
He laughed softly, a dark, gratified sound. “You love that thing in your ass while you suck me off, don’t you? My little fucking pervert.”
His hand came to rest on the back of her head, not forcing, just possessing. She picked up her pace, bobbing faster, taking him deeper into her throat until her eyes watered. Her hips began to rock involuntarily, grinding her wet, empty cunt against the empty air. The sensation coiled, tight and dangerous, deep in her belly.
“You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” he taunted. “Just from sucking my dick and that plug in your shithole.”
She couldn’t deny it. A frantic, shameful energy was building, focused on the empty ache between her legs.She hummed around him, desperate, her fingers digging into his thighs.
He pushed into her mouth more insistently, his control slipping.“Yeah, come on then. Do it.”
The permission, filthy and degrading, was the final trigger. Her orgasm ripped through her, silent and violent. Her body convulsed, her throat clenched wildly around his cock, her juices slicking her inner thighs.She saw stars, her vision whiting out at the edges.
As she was still shuddering, he pulled his cock from her mouth with a wet pop. A string of saliva connected her lip to his glistening head. “Good girl,” he rasped, breathing heavily. “Now the vibrator.”
Her limbs were liquid, but she crawled the few feet to the coffee table.The pink silicone toy was there, waiting.She clicked it on. The buzz was instantly loud, obscene in the quiet room. She rolled onto her back, legs falling open, and pressed the humming head directly against her throbbing clit.The sensation was electric, an immediate overload. She arched off the rug, a broken sound escaping her lips. The plug felt enormous now, a hard, unyielding fullness that the vibrations seemed to amplify. She writhed, her free hand clutching at the rug, her hips bucking against the toy.
Jack watched, slowly stroking his own cock, his expression one of cold, clinical appraisal. After a minute of her frantic, public masturbation, he moved.He knelt behind her, his shadow falling over her splayed body. His hand reached between her legs, not touching her, but finding the jeweled base of the plug. In one smooth, cruel motion, he pulled it free.The emptiness was vast and immediate. Before she could even register the loss, she felt the hot, blunt pressure of him, not at her needy cunt, but at that newly vacant, sensitized ring of muscle.
“Breathe out,” he commanded.She exhaled a ragged stream of air.He pushed.
This time, there was no slow progression.He sheathed himself in her ass in one long, brutal, seamless thrust.
She screamed.The sound was raw, torn from a place deeper than pain. The vibrator fell from her hand, buzzing angrily against the rug. He was so deep, so impossibly full, splitting her wider than ever before.The initial penetration bloomed into a devastating, full-body possession.
He didn’t wait for her to adjust. He set a hard, punishing rhythm, pulling back and slamming home, his balls slapping against her drenched, neglected cunt with each drive. The impact shook her entire body.
“Fuck, yes,” he grunted, his hands gripping her hips, holding her in place for his use.“Take it. Your ass is mine.”
The pain and the overwhelming fullness began to mutate again. A terrible, crescendoing pleasure started to burn through the violation, hotter and more frightening than before.Her body, so thoroughly trained now, responded. She pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts, her own breath coming in sobbing gasps.
“You’re gonna come again,” he stated, his voice thick with exertion. “Aren’t you?Coming on my cock in your ass, you dirty slut.”
The words were a catalyst. The coil snapped.Another orgasm, darker and more consuming than the first, erupted from her core. Her vision tunneled. Her rectal muscles clenched wildly around his invading length, milking him, and the sensation of that sent her even higher, a feedback loop of degradation and ecstasy.
Her climax triggered his.With a final, deep plunge, he buried himself to the hilt and held there. A low, guttural roar was punched from his lungs. She felt the hot, urgent pulses deep inside her, a flooding warmth that marked her insides. He stayed locked within her, his body shuddering, for a long, suspended moment.
When he finally pulled out, the sound was profoundly wet.He stood, looking down at the result. His semen, white and viscous, leaked steadily from her gaping, well-used hole, down over her swollen labia, onto the rug.Kelly didn’t move. She was aware of the cooling air on her wet skin, the tremors in her legs, the profound, hollow ruin between them. She was aware of the buzzing vibrator, a faint insectile hum on the floor.
Jack cleaned himself with a handkerchief, tucked himself away, and dressed with practiced efficiency. He walked to the sliding glass door and looked out at the sunny backyard for a moment, as if considering the weather.Then he turned back to her.
“You’re learning,” he said, his tone almost conversational.He picked up his jacket. “Keep the plug in until tonight, then put it back in tomorrow.I want you ready.”
He let himself out. The click of the lock was final.Kelly lay on the floor for a long time. The pool of wetness beneath her—hers and his—cooled and soaked into the rug. The sunlight tracked across the room, over her exposed body, illuminating the dust in the air, the normal, quiet details of a Tuesday.She felt dismantled. The parts of her that had protested, that had felt shame or fear, were now quiet.A numb, hollow acceptance had taken their place.
Slowly, she pushed herself up.Her body felt foreign, a heavy, used vessel. She walked to the bathroom, leaving a faint, sticky trail on the hardwood. In the mirror, a pale stranger with empty eyes looked back. She saw the reflection of the backyard through the bathroom window—the tidy lawn, the bird feeder, the bright, ordinary day.
She turned on the tap and watched the water run, clear and endless. She had never felt more invisible.