He grabs my aching breasts and pulls them together over his cock. He stretches my nipples; they feel like they are going to rip off! He unclamps them, I feel a little relief, but then he starts fucking my boobs, and they hurt so bad from the earlier torture. He stops fucking my breasts and moves up to my face, rubbing his cock over my lips, blinded eyes, cheeks, and hair. He starts cumming, he forces some of the disgusting salty cum up my nose, the sudden stinging pain makes me open my mouth and he forces a ring inside that makes me keep my mouth open. He finishes cumming inside my mouth and says, “Lick it clean.” I rub my tongue over his cock, cleaning off any excess cum.
He pulls out and takes off the gag, “Good slut. Your punishment is over. But there is one last thing left to do. You have to answer a question.”
I ask, “Is that it?”
He says “Yes, but if you answer wrong then you stay here with me for the rest of your life. If you get it right, then you are free to go, although, you will have to find a way to get that wax out of your ass yourself.”
“Okay, what is the question?”
“Why did I punish you?”
I rack my brain trying to think of an answer, “Ten seconds.”
“Um … err … ah … Because I was bad?”
He sighs,“What did you do?”
I keep thinking. “Three seconds,” Oh god what could it be, what could I have done? I can’t think of anything. The time runs out. “You ran out of time and you don’t know why I’m punishing you. I will tell you why. I’m punishing you because we slept together three weeks ago and you don’t even remember my voice. On the night, you said that you loved my voice. You are such a slut and this is what happens to sluts. You are now my slave forever!”
I start to cry while he laughs again… now I remember. That party, I was half drunk and he started talking to me. But we had just meant, I’m not into one night stands… no. I told him I loved his voice when we were flirting… but he drugged me. He raped me! Then he came back three weeks later to finish the job, I cry harder. I can’t remember his face or his name; I didn’t tell anyone because I was so ashamed. If only I would have told someone, maybe they would have caught him, maybe I wouldn’t be here right now! I start to sob.
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I sort of changed the perspective from the girls point of view… sorry for making her more of a victim original author, but that’s what I like to do.
I might write the other two from her perceptive as well, but I’m not sure if the author will appreciate that I wrote this one in the first place or not.