Overcoming Sorrow

He relaxed his grip on her, letting her slide down onto his cock. He felt the warm heat of her ass gripping him tight, and was thankful for the oil that greased her hole. It had clearly been a long time.

With her hands tied behind her back, keeping her standing upright wasn't practical for long, so he carried her into the livingroom and draped her over the couch. Then he began to fuck her ass in long, slow strokes.

"You want it hard, don't you, slut?" he whispered. "You want to be used."

She whimpered softly when he asked her if she needed it hard. She did. She needed it hard. She needed to be his fucktoy. She needed him to use her and use her hard. It helped that she was bound. It helped that the couch pressed against her stomach.

"Yes, I need it hard. Fuck me like a dirty slut." She whispered. She cleared her throat and said it again. "Yes, fuck me hard. Fuck me like a dirty slut." She said in a fuller voice.

He fucks her harder, ramming the whole length of his cock into her ass again and again, his hips slamming into her cheeks, hard enough that the smacking echoes off the walls.

"You dirty little slut," he whispers. "You just couldn't wait to get a cock in your ass, could you? You're just a cock hungry whore, aren't you? You gave up your career to be a cumdump, didn't you?"

It was all true. She was a whore and a slut. She had been desperate for a cock inside of her. She was desperate to be used and owned and yes, to make a man cum.

"Yes, I gave it up to be his girl." She whimpered out. He slammed into her, harder and harder. Another raw orgasm tore through her, and between the hard use and her deep emotions, tears started to come. It was cathartic and powerful.

"That's my girl," Frank whispered, as she started cumming and crying. He kept thrusting his cock into her ass, hard enough that the couch began to creep across the carpet, but his hand stroked her back, soothingly. As she began to wind down, he slowed his strokes. He was breathing hard, and she was quivering, her ass clenching hard on his cock as she orgasmed, and he let her finish with his cock still rock hard and throbbing inside her. He undid her wrists, and removed the blindfold napkin from her eyes.

Then he pulled her upright, holding her tight around the waist with one arm, holding the napkin in the other, wiping her face tenderly.

"You are a beautiful woman with a submissive heart," he whispered. "You were going to belong to someone. You chose well with him."

She soaked up his affection. It was if he could read her. She took his hand and kissed his fingers.

"Thank you, Sir." She whispered. She pulled from his embrace. "Hang on for just a moment." She quickly walked down the hallway. She rummaged through her suitcase and brought back a small orange bottle of pills. "I need to give these to you. I need to get rid of them. I had planned--..." Her voice trailed off. She bit her lip. "If I couldn't snap out of it..."

She closed his hand around them. "Please, can you get rid of them for me?" She asked softly. She was deeply ashamed that she had thought about swallowing them all and then lying down on the sand and falling asleep forever. But she had.

And now she was trusting him to keep her safe and take away her plan.