The Consolation Prize

[Veroe]

((Closed for Myself and Ericrodman101))​

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

---May 25th---

A month and a half ago Cassandra had retired from her career as a porn starlet and bought a little house in a quiet little neighborhood in a quiet little town in the quietest corner of the country. She had thought the peace and quiet would do her some good, clear her head so to speak, but after a few weeks of the peace and quiet of suburban life she was being driven out of her mind with how bored she was. She should have known the slow and peaceful straight and narrow kind of life was not for her. She was fucked up in the head somewhere, always had been even before her mother's boyfriend started slipping into her bedroom after her alcoholic mother had passed out on the couch.

No, even before that she had been a bad seed, a wild child, a grade A delinquent in every sense of the word. The molestation from her rmother's boyfriend only helped crystalize the way she saw the world as people who fuck with you and those that take it because deep down they want to be fucked with. She understood that fundamental truth of life in an instinctual like a predator automatically knew how to stalk its prey, until the most vulnerable moment to pounce.

A predator. That was what she was. She just didn't have the claws of a lion or the jaws of a great white. What she had to take down her prey was a huge pair of tits and a tight ass, even at the ripe old age of thirty-six she was still a knockout. She one more weapon in her arsenal, perhaps the most deadly, her brilliantly wicked and devious mind. She didn't much care about the score her intelligence rated when she had taken a test to find out, but she remembered it was very high.

No, it was time she stopped pretending to be anything other than what she was. Which was why three days ago she had noticed the teenaged boy of her new neighbors peeping on her through their shared fence in her backyard as she swam laps in her pool. She had climbed out of the pool in only her bikini that was more dental floss than bikini and proceeded to put on a show for him. She dried herself off making sure to pay extra attention to breasts and ass. Then bending over so it gave him a very clear view of her pussy and ass with only the fabric of bikini's g-string that was again more dental floss than bikini as she dried her hair. Then she sat back in the poolside's lounger and proceeded to masturbate for her young voyeur's enticement.

She had ended that by offering him more...provided he play her games without question or hesitation.

That was three days and three games ago. For their first game she had staged a faux birthday party since she hadn't been invited over for his actual eighteenth birthday party a couple weeks before, she remembered the loud music. Of course what birthday was complete without cake or balloons or the traditional spanking. She had bent him over her knee and given him a very firm but sensual spanking, eighteen and one to grow on. Then he had opened his three presents. The first had been a card instructing him to play a certain track on her stereo system. The music it when he did had been rhythmic and provocative as she stripped peice by peice of clothing to sit in his lap and give him the most erotic of lapdances. The second present had been a hitachi wand which he'd used on her there sitting in his lap against him, hands roaming everywhere over her body. She'd come so hard. The last present had been the smallest. A little box containing a single cherry. She'd then pulled him upstairs to her bed and popped his cherry.

The second game came the very next morning she'd left a sticky note on his forehead telling him to come downstairs to join her skinny-dipping in her pool at eight and if he was late he'd have to pay a penalty, of course she'd reset all the clocks in the house an hour late so when he rushed downstairs to the pool he had no idea he was right on time and of course she never bothered to mention that to him. The penalty he paid was blue balls. She sat him in the lounger she'd masturbated in the day before and proceeded to give him a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, of a blowjob. She was a master at cock-sucking and she showed him the entire repertoire of skills she had aqcuired throughout her life bringing him right to the point of erupting white hot tasty semen in her mouth, but then stopping everything and just pulling away waiting for him to settle back down only to take him back in her mouth and drive him right back to that edge over and over and over.

That had been fun. It had been very entertaining watching him squirm and whine and beg for her to let him come. Far more entertaining than whatever boring-assed morning show on TV she would've been watching before her young voyeur had reminded her who and what she was. Near the end she had to handcuff his hands to the chair to continue giving him his penalty of having blue balls. She let him go just in time to run off to his job smelling like nothing short than the pure concentrated sexual frustration he had been feeling.

He was ripe for her to pluck. He had run over when she'd texted him the rules of their current game.

She turned off the shower and stepped out feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. Using a towel to dry off her hair she stepped out of her bathroom and padded shamelessly naked back to her bed. Her new lover was sleeping sprawled across the sheets rumpled and scattered sides of the bed, also naked.

Cassandra took a moment to observe the young man sleeping in her bed. He looked so cute and innocent, well at least until she was through with him.

She'd allowed him these last thirty minutes to nap while she grabbed a quick shower, but the rules of this game was very simple and yet so very difficult. The game was twelve hours of fucking, but at the start she'd given him a choice to pick a number between one and ten. Not knowing what he was choosing he took five. So in the twelve hours of fucking her he had five orgasms to give, any more over that and he started racking up the penalties to pay her. Let's see how many he'd had...the first was missionary, the second doggy-style, the third cowgirl-no reverse cowgirl, and the fourth was straight up cowgirl, the fifth they had done it on their sides. That was when the orgasms over his limit started: handjob, tits, missionary again, grinding on him and lapping up the semen off his young muscular body. He'd faded off to slumberland then.

That was four penalties he would have to pay up on. Why not make it five?

After he left the day before she'd reset her clocks to show the correct time again. The one on her bedroom wall said it was 4:12 am. There were still two more hours to go. So Cassandra bent over him and slapped him hard across the face. That woke him up.

"Ready to go again," She asked though there was no way in hell she'd accept a no from him to that question, at least not until two more hours.

"Aww, you poor thing," She said in a cooing empathetic tone that went only skin-deep, "That reminds me..." She settled down between his spread thighs her breasts pillowing out to press on the inside of his thighs wider apart. Her knees rested on the edge of the bed raising her still spectacular ass high in the air.

"You remember yesterday don't you," She asked in that same only skin-deep caring tone. She reached out taking his hand guiding it to the base of his cock. The other she took and pulled to the back of her head, pressure on his fingers led him to close them taking her still damp hair by a fistful. "I was so cruel to you. Giving you such a blowjob, but never letting you shoot down my throat. You still don't know what it feels like to be lodged down my throat feeling it flex and squeeze around you as I swallow each and every spurt."

Her hands in plain view to his eyes reached behind her one grasping hold of the other so she wouldn't use them in the face-fucking to come. "Tell me would you like know how that feels?"

Her tongue reached out then fluttering over the frenulum just beneath the rim of his cock quick and soft like the wings of a hummingbird. Something they had both learned yesterday drove him absolutely wild.

 

[ericrodman101]

"Tell me would you like to know how that feels."

Pete Tranter looked deep into Cassandra Delacourt's eyes. How it feels to shoot his cum down her throat. That's what she was asking him. Fuck! Like he needed to be asked. What eighteen year old boy, all cock and testosterone, doesn't dream night after wet, dreamy night, of face fucking a woman, a girl, a whore, a pornstar? He wanted to let go, to shoot down her throat, to shove himself inside her, to face fuck her, to rape her mouth, to do things to her whether she asked or not. But she was asking, inviting, coaxing, goading. Jesus fucking Christ! Pete felt he'd died and gone to heaven. Ever since Cassandra had moved in next door.

Peter Jensen Tranter turned eighteen a month ago. Eighteen uneventful years behind him in this town, this sleepy berg where nothing ever happened and hardly anyone came or went. Not even the Tranters and the Jensens, his mother's family who'd been pretty much inter-breeding since the Civil War. Maybe that's why he was so tall. Inbred. It was a mixed blessing. He was no good at basketball, but the girls liked tall guys. He was always being asked by old ladies to get things down from the top shelf. And it kept him out of trouble because the toughs imagined a tall guy might be strong as well. Pete worked out, he ran although he only just held his place on the varsity squad, and he cycled which kept him fit for his pizza delivery job.

He was cycling past his home delivering pizza on the day Cassandra moved in next door. The house had been up for sale for months, but the sold sign for only a couple of days. He saw the moving van in the drive and nearly fell off his bicycle when he spied the amazing woman directing the removalists. Who dressed like that? In the street, in full view? Her tight ass, her tits, her long flowing hair. She looked like the women he watched on the internet every night in his room, the ones who licked their lips and cooed into the screen, then opened their legs and let guys fuck their shaved pink cunts.

It was why he found himself peering through a gap in the fence as she swam in her pool. Even though he could only hear her in the water, his cock was already hard. And then when she climbed out of the pool in the tiniest bikini he'd ever seen, even on OnlyFans, dried herself off and masturbated in the lounge chair, he shot his load against the wooden fence. Was it just luck or did she know someone was watching?

When he positioned himself by the hole in the fence the next day she was there, waiting for him. And that's when the games started. The spanking, the stripping, the lapdance, the wand. Fuck! He'd used a wand on a real flesh and blood woman just like on the internet. She let him touch her, feel inside her, kiss her and not just on the mouth. And then they fucked. The cherry she'd given him was still in the box at the end of the bed.

So much had happened in so short a time. Pete had trouble thinking straight. Just getting ready for work and concentrating on the job was too much. He was hard all the time. His cock hurt. His balls hurt. His mouth hurt. His fingers ached for her skin, her soft, pliant pink flesh, the folds which she encouraged him to play with to pull back, to tease and fondle, to pinch, to lick.

And the blow job. The morning after Cassandra took his eighteen year old virginity, Pete sat on the lounge chair where she'd masturbated for him, and blew him. Her mouth. His cock. Fuck! Her tongue around the glans, along the shaft, tracing every vein. Her lips, her teeth, enfolding him. Her tongue teasing his piss slit. He'd seen this done so many times on the internet, but to have it done by a real woman in the fresh air in her backyard where anyone could look over the fence and see them, hear them, join them....

But unlike the vanilla fuck they'd had upstairs the night before, Cassandra wouldn't let him cum in her mouth. Pete so wanted to fuck her mouth, make her swallow his cock, then his cum, flood her, drain himself into her, mark her from the inside. Fuck, lady, fuck, he heard himself say, as she edged him to orgasm and then when he felt that his release was inevitable, back off and start again.

It was all a game to Cassandra. Indeed, that's what she called what she was doing to him. Games. He begged her to let him cum in her mouth. He even let her handcuff him while she tormented him. And then she let him go, unsatisfied, running off to the pizza parlor where he came in the toilet like a geyser.

And this game. The third game. Twelve hours of fucking, she texted. But he had to pick a number. Five, he'd said, and Cassandra said he had to have five orgasms in twelve hours. Five. No more, no less, or he'd have to pay a penalty. Pete had no idea what was going on, except that she was a goddess, a demon, a sex fiend, a tormentor. And what she did to him. Fucked him. Rode him. Stimulated him. He came five times as she licked the cum off his body. But she didn't stop. Pete was losing count as she wore him out. How many orgasms? What were the penalties? He slept in her bed dreaming of what wicked things Cassandra would do.

And then she woke him. Just after four in the morning. He had work that day. And chores. And explanations. Where had he been the past few nights? Why Mom, sleeping next door with Cassandra while we fucked in her bed. As if.

Pete was groggy, but already hard. This woman was living, breathing sex. He wanted her like nothing he'd ever wanted. He wanted to be inside her, feeling her warm, moist insides, her tight holes, her dark, secret places, discharging his seed into her if there was any left. He wanted to understand what was happening to him, but not so much that what was happening might stop. He just wanted to fuck and be fucked.

And now she was cooing. Apologizing for her cruelty. For denying him her mouth to fuck. To cum. To drain himself into.

Her tongue was on his cock, teasing him, circling the tip, then the underside. Pete tingled at being so close to her open mouth.

"Tell me would you like to know how that feels," she said.

He only had to say yes and she would open wide and he could plug her mouth with his tool, thrust himself into her, fuck her throat like he'd fucked her vagina until his balls stirred and his cum sprayed into her guts.

"I want to know how it fucking feels," he said. "I want to know, Cassandra. Now!"

 

[Veroe]

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

"You remember yesterday don't you," She asked in that same only skin-deep caring tone. She reached out taking his hand guiding it to the base of his cock. The other she took and pulled to the back of her head, pressure on his fingers led him to close them taking her still damp hair by a fistful. "I was so cruel to you. Giving you such a blowjob, but never letting you shoot down my throat. You still don't know what it feels like to be lodged down my throat feeling it flex and squeeze around you as I swallow each and every spurt."

Her hands in plain view to his eyes reached behind her one grasping hold of the other so she wouldn't use them in the face-fucking to come. "Tell me would you like to know how that feels?"

Her tongue reached out then fluttering over the frenulum just beneath the rim of his cock quick and soft like the wings of a hummingbird. Something they had both learned yesterday drove him absolutely wild.

Cassandra kept her eyes open looking up his lean muscular teenaged body to his face. He looked down at her as if he was unsure if he was still dreaming and if he was never wanting to wake back up. Their eyes met and she watched as he announced to her, "I want to know how it fucking feels. I want to know, Cassandra, now!"
"Mmmm...No, I don't think so, not yet Peter." Cassandra's smile was wide and predatory as she reached out her tongue down to slowly curl around his testicals and then up over and between the fingers holding the base and up the cum canal all the way up, slowly tantalizingly slowly. Her tongue reached the tip and swirled over it like it was a soft serve cone melting in the summer heat. "It's just too much fun making you wait for it."

She loved the act of sucking cock. Most women thought it was such a submissive act, but not Cassandra. For her there was no clearer a demonstration of her power over another than having a man's dick in her mouth. It was akin to her of having a man's heart and soul in her hands.

She speared his cock into her mouth all the way down to point her lips touched the fingers of his hand holding the base. Once there she slowly pulled up turning her head in a clockwise manner to the tip and then back down to his fingers again and again and again. If he was paying attention he'd notice how her cheeks twitched as she did this from her working her tongue under and around his shaft and tip furiously as she slowly corkscrewed up and drove back down again. It was a technique proven to be supremely pleasurable to Peter. Yesterday morning she had used it a great deal to drive him right up to the brink of ejaculation again and again.

Then just like she had yesterday just as he was getting close, she pulled away and laughed at his exasperated reaction again. This was a little game within the overall game. Cassandra had not moved her hands from behind her back, and Pete still had a handful of her hair rather than having them handcuffed to her poolside lounge chair this time. He could take what he wanted, what he needed from her. If he had the will to.

She looked into his eyes coquettishly, "What's the matter, Peter? I thought you wanted to know how it feels, so this time...make me."

 

[ericrodman101]

Cassandra said no. No! Pete was ready simply to spray cum all over her smiling face. She took him in her mouth again, curling her tongue round his balls, and then teasing the shaft, slower than he could imagine, could withstand almost.

"It's just too much fun making you wait for it," she said, smiling wickedly as she moistened his cock head, swirling over the tip.

He'd googled her. Cassandra Delacourt. So many returns. Such a long and varied career. He realized he knew her face, but not her name until their introduction. And then her name and her face and her body and her bare flesh, everything was spread out before him online. So much to take in. So much to watch and rewatch, frame by tantalizing frame. So many men. And women. So many cocks. Fucking and sucking, clothed, semi clothed, naked. Inside. Outside. Men, boys, black, white, one at a time, in groups, double penetration, triple penetration with her red ass gaping for the camera like some soiled tunnel of illicit love, drinking cum and piss, the toys, long black impossibly large dildos, wands and vibrators, wax, electricity, leather and chains, masks and hoods, slings, fuck machines. Rape, simulated of course, but how he imagined it. Gangrape. Groups of men, mostly faceless, punishing her with their cocks and their hands and whatever implements they could find. Fisting. Until he'd watched Cassandra online, Pete had never imagined fisting, let alone watched it. Yet here she was, her orifices opened gloriously wide to take a whole hand, asking for it, inviting the despoilation, reveling in it. Sex acts so utterly depraved and humiliating he didn't really know what they were called or how to describe them. And through it all, through the violation and the invasion and the degradation, beautiful Cassandra Delacourt smiled and cooed for the camera, licked her lips, shouted obscenities and whispered lewd instructions, making her body available without limit. Pete got hard the instant he thought abut what he'd viewed.

And here was this beautiful, sexy, depraved woman with her head bobbing on the end of his cock, teasing and taunting him, bringing him to the edge of orgasm over and over, but never quite letting him cross the line. It was tantalizing and sexy and beyond description.

Cassandra's mouth was against his hand, his cock all the way inside her. He imagined the head, the slit, the eye peering into her throat like leaning over to look into a drain. He imagined her eating him, chewing him up into pieces and swallowing him, his flesh and his cum and her spit mixing together. He imagined the muscles in her throat contracting around his cock, drawing him down, sealing her airway, a great snake blocking a pipe, then a muscle spasm and his cock going deeper, being swallowed like a banana, a cucumber. He imagined being joined to Cassandra at the mouth, a forever oral fuck, her lips on his torso, his balls on her chin, his cock permanently welded into the top of her throat where he could cum and piss, her eyes blinking up at him all the while, signaling that she was OK with whatever he did, however deep, however long, however defiling. Just do it, he could hear her willing him on. Fuck my mouth, lover boy. Fuck....

And then Cassandra disengaged, his cock brushing her lips, her breath breezy on his glans.

"What's the matter, Peter? I thought you wanted to know how it feels, so this time...make me."

Make me.....or was it rape me....

He needed no further invitation, especially if he was going to cum inside her. Pete gripped hard on the knot of her hair he held in his hand, then pulled her onto him hard while her mouth was still open at the end of her little speech, thrusting his cock deep, further than he'd been so far. He wanted Cassandra to gag, to say no, to reject his advance. He wanted to beat her. Show her Pete Tranter was no easy fuck, but a force to be reckoned with. He pushed her face hard into his skin, trying to gag her, smother her, make her take a breath, but get no air and try to push him away. He knew it was fruitless. He'd seen Cassandra online take cocks bigger than his, harder, for longer, until even he just watching had to take a breath while she never did.

But his thoughts about what he'd seen evaporated. His cock twitched, his cum coursed through the shaft and sprayed into the back of her mouth.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

Then just like she had yesterday just as he was getting close, she pulled away and laughed at his exasperated reaction again. This was a little game within the overall game. Cassandra had not moved her hands from behind her back, and Pete still had a handful of her hair rather than having them handcuffed to her poolside lounge chair this time. He could take what he wanted, what he needed from her. If he had the will to.

She looked into his eyes coquettishly, "What's the matter, Peter? I thought you wanted to know how it feels, so this time...make me."

"Unf-" She got out as the hand that had a hold of her hair upon hearing her words immediately pulled her head down his cock. He pulled her all the way down until her lips were pressed against his balls and her nose pressed against his stomach. Being in the middle of speaking when Peter did this she gagged and choked a little before she quickly got herself back under control. She considered herself a expert at felatio and could and had taken cocks down her throat far larger and far more roughly without so much as a hiccup from her. Cassandra did manage to slip her tongue out to lick and caress his balls as her eyes opened and focused up on his face. His other hand had moved to the back of her head pressing down to keep her from pulling away again-as if she was even trying to stop this now.

She could see his eyes lose focus and drift shut at the same time as his balls contracted in his sack underneath her tongue and the telltale quiver of the cock lodged firmly in her throat.

He erupted like Vesuvius shot after shot straight down her gullet, body tensing and shaking as he came-finally. She swallowed letting his climaxing cock feel the sensations as the muscles surrounded it squeezed and milked him to prolong the experience for him.

This one was epic for him. She got a belly-full of his cum even after twelve hours of fucking and cumming as many as ten times. God bless that teenaged sex drive and recuperative rate. Very few people out there could actually keep up with Cassandra in her experience, but this eighteen-year-old kid has been performing a yeoman's job of doing just that. She had to hand it to him on that count.

As his climax subsided Peter settled down on the bed breathing heavy and his hands loosening on her head allowing her to pull up from his sated cock leaving her lips and its tip connected by strands of her saliva and his cum. She still had a mouthful of his cum from his last spurt as she was pulled away from his shaft and she knew exactly what to do with it. He still had to pay five penalties for coming five more times than he had chosen to.

They had an hour or so left before the twelve hours of fucking was over. He had lied to his parents begging them to allow him to stay over his dear trusted friend, Evan's house so they could play this game tonight. From what he'd told her his parents were supposed to be going on a big cross-country road trip in the big eyesore of an RV she'd seen in their driveway a day or two from now. That would make participating in her games easier for him, and Cassandra already had ideas on what to do with her sweet trusting young lover when they did leave. She just needed patience until then, but now however...it was time for him to pay the piper.

Cassandra crawled up his body and lay atop him. Her breasts were pillowed against his chest, her legs stretched out between his, and his slowly deflating cock was pressed between their tummies. Her face hung over his, her long blond hair forming a curtain around them as she reached up to hold his face still. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his. Her tongued pushed insistently past his and into his own mouth. Then she proceeded to French kiss with him sharing the load he'd just left in her mouth with Peter. She ignored his reactions to this continuing the kiss until she finally pulled her face back away from his. She swallowed the little bit of cum left and moved her hand to cover his mouth tightly. That way he won't be able to spit out his own semen she'd just fed him.

"You came five more times than the amount you chose to when we started this game. So that means you owe me five penalties, Peter." She told him calmly, "Your first was to taste your own cum. The second will be to swallow it down right now."

 

[ericrodman101]

Pete held his cock inside Cassandra's mouth as long as he could. As long as he wanted. Cassandra was that kinda girl. He wasn't experienced, but this felt like a good one, a long, deep mouth fuck, with loads of fresh cum. His girlfriend Anna let him cum in her mouth. Indeed, it was all she let him do. And she swallowed. But Cassandra. Wow! If she wasn't so utterly distracting he might have found the words to describe how fucking her mouth really felt.

Anna. Fucking hot, long blonde-haired, slim-waisted Anna. All nymphet and Baptist choir girl. How hard he had tried to get her to let him fuck her. Just getting his fingers inside her was hard enough, but so far she'd kept her cunt closed to him. Sure she let him fuck her mouth. But she tried as hard as she could not to enjoy it. Her ass...Jesus. Her firm, round, shapely ass. The way she wiggled it in her tight jeans. In the string bikini she wore to the lake. How does a good churchy virgin get off wearing a bikini like that and not expect....to be raped? How the fuck? But she did and he creamed himself and she did it again and let him touch her all over, even finger her pussy and cum in her mouth, but no cock. Not now. Not until marriage. Fuck!

He lay back on Cassandra's bed and watched her withdraw, her mouth sliding off his cock, the strings of cum and saliva streaming out from her lips to his cock tip, glistening and stretching in the sunlight. His cock surged again just watching the obscene show.

She crawled naked up his body and lay on top of him. She kissed him, opening his mouth with her tongue, depositing his goo across his lips, his teeth, back inside him. Did he like it? Did he care? Lying naked like this, being soiled by her, Pete would happily let Cassandra do anything she wanted. Anything he could imagine. And all the things he couldn't.

The kiss went on long after he was breathless. Pete could tell Cassandra enjoyed him struggling beneath her. He needed to breathe. To spit. She covered his mouth, sealing his cum inside, making him cough. He needed to swallow, imagining the goo pooling and bubbling, sliding slowly down his throat. His own goo. His own throat. How Anna must feel, he thought. Good.

The game. Cassandra mentioned the game. The penalties. What was it with this woman and her games? Pete couldn't quite get his head around what made her tick. But she was twice his age and highly experienced. His googling showed that to be more than true. Experienced sexually in ways he'd never imagined before watching her perform on screen, his cock rock hard in his hands, his cum spraying onto his thighs, the floor, across the room. Experienced in acts and positions and degradations Pete didn't even have words for.

"Swallow," Cassandra said. "Right now."

Pete did as he was told. He needed to swallow so obeying her command was easy. And her hand on his mouth gave him no other option. He swallowed. The sticky goo caught in his throat and he gagged. He looked deep into her eyes, trying to read her. Power. Wickedness. Intrigue. Was that it?

He knew then he wanted Anna to meet Cassandra. To watch her as he had, then to touch her and be touched, be violated, be soiled, become what Cassandra was, learn and emulate and....outdo? His cock was pushing back into Cassandra's torso now. Couldn't she feel it? Pete imagined him lifting her off the bed as his cock swelled towards the ceiling.

Five penalties, Cassandra said. Swallowing was only number two.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

Cassandra crawled up his body and lay atop him. Her breasts were pillowed against his chest, her legs stretched out between his, and his slowly deflating cock was pressed between their tummies. Her face hung over his, her long blond hair forming a curtain around them as she reached up to hold his face still. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his. Her tongued pushed insistently past his and into his own mouth. Then she proceeded to French kiss with him sharing the load he'd just left in her mouth with Peter. She ignored his reactions to this continuing the kiss until she finally pulled her face back away from his. She swallowed the little bit of cum left and moved her hand to cover his mouth tightly. That way he won't be able to spit out his own semen she'd just fed him.

"You came five more times than the amount you chose to when we started this game. So that means you owe me five penalties, Peter." She told him calmly, "Your first was to taste your own cum. The second will be to swallow it down right now."

Peter eyes widened at that. Cassandra wondered what he must be thinking. Most boys his age would be grossed out by the mere suggestion that they taste and swallow their own load of cum. They'd be outraged she had forced him to, but now looking into his eyes she didn't see that Pete had too much trouble complying with her orders.

Interesting.

Still he hadn't swallowed just yet. He tried shake off her hand and spit it out, but she was ready for that and kept her hand firmly in place over his mouth. Maybe this was where the line was with him?

Interesting again.

"Swallow," She ordered him firmly brooking no chance for him to weasel out of doing so. "Right now."

And then she saw his head tip back and the muscles of his throat work as he did as she commanded from him.

Once again, very interesting.

Now what? He still had three more penalties to pay, but she was feeling his cock stiffening between them again. What a warrior raising standing back up to continue the fuck-fest. God bless that teenaged sex drive of his.

"You have a choice now, Peter. Now that you've had to pay two penalties you have three more to pay up on, and they'll only get worse." She told reaching between them to wrap her fingers around his erection. She gave it a stroke. "Do you want to fuck me again knowing you'll earn another now."

 

[ericrodman101]

Pete was hard and anxious not to waste another erection. How the fuck the guys in Cassandra’s porn films managed not to cum for hours he didn’t understand. He wanted to cum as soon as he got hard, as soon as she touched him, as soon as she talked dirty. His staying power was virtually zero and he wanted so bad to be better at fucking.

Cassandra had her hand round his cock as she spoke, taunting him about the games and the penalties and his choices. If only he understood better what she was on about. He just wanted to fuck, to stick his cock into any hole she offered him. But this wasn’t Cassandra’s style. She wanted to play, to make a game of everything, to make erections and arousal last, to prolong the pleasure. Which was all great if only he knew how to do it.

”I want to fuck you again,” he said. “What are the penalties? I don’t really understand.”

Maybe Cassandra meant penalties like the way Anna meant penalties. When he tried to fuck Anna she said they would both go to hell unless they were married. Pete’s family wasn’t religious, but it only took logic to work out going to hell for sticking your cock inside a girl and depositing your semen in there was no different to doing it inside her mouth. Anna let him do that even if she spat out his cum. Hell for cunt, heaven for mouth. How the fuck did that make any sense? He’d tried to reason with Anna but she always just shook her head, crossed her long legs tightly and opened her pretty mouth. Which was great, of course, but it wasn’t the whole sexual smorgasbord.

And he’d never asked Anna for anal. A little voice in his head told him that anal might be worse than pussy. He wasn’t sure why this might be either except for the whole bodily waste thing and how all gays were going to hell anyway, according to Anna and her family.

”I want to fuck you again, Cassandra,“ Pete said, “ but I want to fuck you up the ass. Yeah?”

 

[Veroe]

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

"You have a choice now, Peter. Now that you've had to pay two penalties you have three more to pay up on, and they'll only get worse." She told reaching between them to wrap her fingers around his erection. She gave it a stroke. "Do you want to fuck me again knowing you'll earn another now."

"I want to fuck you again, Cassandra," He told her looking into her eyes and adding, "But I want to fuck you up the ass. Yeah?"

"My ass," She repeated staring back into his eyes, She smiled down to him. "My ass."

She sat up sitting atop him with her pussy right against his stiffened erection. Her pussy lips parted around it, and she moved back and forth over it so her clitoris dragged against it for the length of him. She felt the electric feeling rpple out throughout her body From base to head and back, teasing him.

"I don't know, Peter." She went on continuing to drag her clit up and down his cock as she spoke, "My ass is legendary. The anal scenes I've done are some of my most watched videos. And the costars that fuck it in them can hardly wait to get their cocks inside it. Seasoned male pornstars drive into it and just lose themselves fucking my asshole. Spewing their cum inside it long before they were supposed to."

"Do you honestly think you're up for fucking my ass, Peter," She asked him seriously, "Is your inexperienced cock worthy of it?"

"You'll love fucking my ass, Peter." She leaned down so her face was inches away and she sensually whispered to him, "You'll never fuck any hole sweeter or tighter. It will be heaven for your dick."

She reached behind her fingers curling around his hard cock. She lifted it up angling it just right and then scooting back just enough so the pucker of her rosebud kissed the tip of his hard throbbing erection. "But the thing is I'm not a good woman. I'm very bad actually. I really really get off on fucking with you, and you already owe me three more penalties to pay up for this game."

She kept him there at the threshold of heaven's puckered gates as her hand stroked his length. "So, the next penalty you'll pay is that you're going to have to wait until the next game to experience the pure undiluted pleasure that would be fucking my ass with this cock."

If he tried to thrust up and penetrate her asshole Cassandra would move with him keeping his cocktip firmly touching her asshole without letting it inside. Also, she would resist his attempts to push her down onto him. The whole time her masterful hand stroking his length drove him closer and closer and closer to the edge, and then...Cassandra felt it. Spurt after spurt of teenaged jism being shot out of his cumslit and splashing against the pucker of her asshole.

She chuckled wickedly telling him, "Awww...you poor boy...I'm so very bad to you...perhaps next time you'll get what you want."

Cassandra then climbed up his body until she was over his face, knees on either side of his head. She reached down and spread her asscheeks wide. He'd be able to see her asshole now painted over white with his own gooey sticky cum. "Care to guess what your next penalty will be?"

With that she lowered her ass right onto his mouth, her pussy over his nose. She settled her entire weight onto sitting on his face. She looked down her body to look into his eyes, her hands bunching in his hair. "You won't get to breathe until my asshole is cleaned off so start licking."

 

[ericrodman101]

Pete had said it now. 'I want to fuck you up the ass'.

Cassandra sat up until she was holding her pussy against his swollen cock head, teasing and taunting, drawing the open lips across the sensitive, engorged flesh. He could take her if he wanted to. He was six feet, fit, strong. Would she like that? He'd watched her taken in movies, watched Cassandra manhandled, held down, fucked. God, he was hard just thinking about it, his precum gushing from the cock slit.

"My ass is legendary," she said. He knew. Cassandra's dirty talk was as arousing as her actions. She tormented him, her face against his even as she slid her clitoris across his cock, questioning his experience, doubting his capacity to fuck her, to take her up the ass like the professionals she fucked on film.

And then she had his cock in her hand, her eyes still on him as she brought his organ up until Pete could feel her tightest hole against him. He only had to push, to grab hold of her, pin her, push himself inside her, take her, rape her....fuck!

As he hesitated he knew Cassandra had the upper hand. But of course. She was a pornstar, a bad woman like she said, and he was the kid from next door, her victim most likely. For a moment Pete wondered if there were female serial killers, female rapists who took men captive and used them and....never let them go. And why did thinking that make him even harder? Why? He needed his cock inside her, inside anything, not just her hand.

She said he would have to wait. That was the next penalty. Wait if he wanted to fuck her up the ass. Fuck. She was a demon. Not just a bad woman. Devilish. Other worldly. He was cumming against her now, spurting through her fingers onto her asshole. He didn't want to, but Cassandra was remorseless and Pete knew he would have to learn a lot more to control his orgasms. He imagined his white seed creaming her hole, filling the puckers, just not from inside. Pete tried to speak, but only emitted groans.

"...you poor boy..." she said. Poor. Boy. Pete wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Cassandra let go of his cock once he was empty, then climbed higher, straddling his face, stretching her hands round her ass cheeks until she could show him her hole, sticky with his cum. So this was the penalty. Licking her asshole clean.

She lowered herself onto him, settling onto his face. Pete could look up along her torso, beyond her tits to her eyes. Cruel? Canny? He didn't know. He could smell her, musky, earthy. He'd rimmed Anna. Just once. His girlfriend hadn't liked it. Hadn't liked ass play much at all. But if she wasn't going to let him fuck her, then he insisted. And Cassandra was the same. Fucking women, he thought. Fucking cock teasing whores. When I just want to be inside you. When I deserve to be inside you.

His eyes still on her, straining to watch, Pete stuck out his tongue. Her star was creamy, soft and pliant, breathing like some sea creature, opening and closing, adjusting round him as he stretched himself inside, tasting his goo, lapping her juices, sucking and blowing. Was this even a penalty, he wondered. Licking Cassandra's asshole was suddenly all he wanted to do. Sure he would fuck her up the ass when she was ready to let him. But here and now he could tongue her, clean her, make her respond to his mouth against her. It was filthy, obscene, overwhelmingly sexy all at the same time. While he still had breath in his body, Pete vowed to explore this little piece of Cassandra which she'd offered, get to know it intimately like a private introduction to the place his cock would visit a little later.

And maybe , if he was a good and obedient boy, and did as he was told, she might even be lulled into a false sense of security. Sure he was inexperienced and all this was new and exciting. But he'd seen what Cassandra permitted men to do to her on film, and when his time came to stick his cock up her ass, he might surprise her.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

She chuckled wickedly telling him, "Awww...you poor boy...I'm so very bad to you...perhaps next time you'll get what you want."

Cassandra then climbed up his body until she was over his face, knees on either side of his head. She reached down and spread her asscheeks wide. He'd be able to see her asshole now painted over white with his own gooey sticky cum. "Care to guess what your next penalty will be?"

With that she lowered her ass right onto his mouth, her pussy over his nose. She settled her entire weight onto sitting on his face. She looked down her body to look into his eyes, her hands bunching in his hair. "You won't get to breathe until my asshole is cleaned off so start licking."

He looked back up her body and Cassandra could see in his eyes an inability to understand her motives. She saw a spark of resentment there too. Good. She would be disappointed if she hadn't raised an ire within him. He wanted to fuck her ass...needed to fuck her ass. She wanted to cackle in glee looking into his eyes at denying him his desire here would only make it far more intense when he finally had his cock plundering her asshole. It would make far less a scenario where Peter would be receiving a cherished gift of fucking her ass into one where he was taking what was due him. That eventuality couldn't delight her more.

She felt his tongue sweep over her asshole cleaning off the globs of his own cum off of it. Then she gasped as she felt that tongue tentatively push the tip inside.

"Yessss," She exclaimed pressing down to drive that tongue deeper inside her. "More. Lick my ass. Right there, Peter, right there." She wedged her hand under his nose to furiously finger her clitoris as his tongue fucked her asshole. "Faster, Peter! Fuck my ass with your tongue, mother fucker!"

When she finally got close she lifted off of Peter's face finally allowing him to get a lungful of air. She still knelt over his head as her fingers on her clit pushed her over the edge and she came squirting all over his face screaming like a banshee.

Spent from the epic climax she collapsed onto the bed and curled up against her young lover's body. Cupping his chin she kissed him tasting their combined juices: his, some of hers-yum. Pulling away from the kiss she looked into his eyes and felt a rather surprising surge of affection for him. She could lie here beside him like this and just sleep cuddled next to him. It wouldn't even be a part of fucking with him.

No.

"I'm calling the game over now, Peter," She told him sweetly, "However, you still have one more penalty to pay...so...you're going to go get dressed and go home, but you're not going to clean off your face or anything. You'll have our combined juices all over your face and smell like you've just been through a night of non-stop fucking. It's early so if you're lucky your parents will still be asleep. Once inside you can get a shower and catch up on some sleep. We'll play again tomorrow."

After he left next door Cassandra returned to her bed and slept in the sleep of the content and well-fucked.

------------------------------X

-------May 26th--------

The next day, Peter's parents were up and, in the kitchen, pouring over roadmaps on google for the much-anticipated road trip across the country while he and another boy were out front playing basketball in the driveway. From the things he told him about him, she surmised the other boy must be Peter's best friend, Evan. She wore a cute little blue sundress with white polka dots and sandals and left through her front door. The moment she did she noticed Peter watching her. She opened the door of her Aston Martin and climbed inside giving him a cheeky wink.

Later.

She left to go shopping and returned an hour or two later that afternoon to see him and Evan still in the driveway basketball in hand, but no longer playing. Instead, Evan was pointing at Peter and saying some move was totally a foul and he should stop playing dirty, dude. The argument was instantaneously forgotten when she climbed out of the car and called over to the two boys to help her carry her bags inside for her.

She didn't hear the conversation as they came over, although she did hear Evan tell Peter, "Dude, your new neighbor is a superhot milf."

She bent down giving both boys a rather generous glimpse of cleavage and handed Evan some bags of groceries: bread, milk, vegetables from the supermarket-that sort of thing. For Peter she handed him the bags of the adult bookstore in town she'd shopped at. Inside was several toys, dildos, vibrators, anal beads-that sort of thing.

"The game is to keep your friend from realizing what is going on between us, Peter," She whispered to him close giving his dick a good rub through the basketball shorts, "Don't let him see what's inside these bags or there might be some awkward questions being asked."

Once inside she bent over giving both boys a good long chance to ogle her legs and ass as she played around shifting the groceries around in her fridge. When that was over she offered them both a glass of sweet tea. She told neither of them that she'd spiked the tea they were drinking with vodka. As they drank, she asked them questions. How they liked school, Did either of them have girlfriends, what they planned to do for the future-that sort of thing. They sat and talked like that sipping the spiked tea for a while at her kitchen table.

Unknown to Evan she'd chosen to sit directly across from Peter, and as the conversation started, she slipped out of a sandal and raised her foot to rub the inside of Peter's leg climbing as the talk just continued on between the three of them. Apparently, they'd been friends ever since second grade on the school bus.

"That kind of friendship is a strong bond," To young Evan she asked as her bare foot found and began coaxing his cock to hardness, "Would he be willing to sacrifice that friendship if it meant getting something he really wanted, like a million dollars, for instance."

Evan shook his head adamant that he and Peter would be best buds forever with or without a million dollars.

She increased her foot's efforts on the growing tent in Peter's basketball shorts as she asked him the same question but adding particularly special emphasis on sacrificing his friendship with Evan in order to get something he really really wanted.

Evan scoffed. "Dude, we've always been friends, and no amount of money will break that."

She didn't get Peter's answer. Her foot retreated and she pointed behind him through the kitchen window. "Looks like I've kept you boys too long." In the driveway of Peter's house his mom was standing there hands cupped over her mouth as she glanced around calling, "Boys where are you. Your lunch is ready."

She gave Peter another wink as they left whispering, "We'll play again tomorrow."

-----------------------------------------------------x

-----------------May 27th------------------

Cassandra waited until later the next day. Peter's parents had gone to bed early in preparation for their long road trip the next day. Still she waited until the clock struck eleven before picking up the phone and calling Peter's number. It was time for the game to begin.

As his parents slept in the very next room, she had him lie on his bed and pull down his pajama shorts so his cock was out throbbing bare in the open air of his bedroom. She had him wrap his hand around it and begin stroking it-slowly. At the same time she told him she was using one of the dildos he'd carried in from the car the day before and pushing it slow into her asshole. She made certain that the stokes of his hand on his cock matched the rhythm of the dildo fucking her ass.

She had him close his eyes and tell her how he envisioned fucking her ass. She coaxed him into giving more and morre details of the ass fucking. Stroke faster the dildo matching it's speed. Faster. Harder. Fuck my ass harder. Orgasms for both of them was right there on the tips of their fingertips a little while longer stroking and thrusting the dildo and they'd both explode in climax.

Not yet. Stop. Hands off. Ride the edge of climax.

They talked about other things: his parents, Evan, Anna-his girlfriend. They talked about his fantasies and some of the things he'd seen in her videos he'd like to try. Then they just talked about stuff. Normal stuff...Things not useful for her games...just stuff...even for Cassandra...it was nice.

And then she had him take his cock back into his hand as she placed the dildo back at the entrance of her asshole and together they climbed the peak to come together gasping and groaning to eachother over their phones.

She told him to expect her over when his parents left the house tomorrow.

 

[Veroe]

--------------------------------------------x

--------------------May 28th------------

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

Cassandra waited until Peter's parents left giving their young son hugs, well-wishes, and a list of chores to do as he was the only one in the house. they climbed into the big RV and waving goodbye left for their much planned for adventure on the roads coast to coast. It wasn't until the RV was gone twenty minutes later that she stepped out of her house, closed the door, and locked it behind her.

She was wearing fairly conservative clothing-for her at least. She had a pair of sandals, a knee-length skirt, a white button-down blouse, and a light jacket. Underneath was a very different story. She wore just a body harness of black leather straps crisscrossing her body. In fact, the conservative clothing she wore was designed with weak seams On her arm was a gym bag containing all the sextoys she and Peter might need.

She walked casually across her front yard and into Peter's. Outside on the street around them it was a typical summer morning in the neighborhood. Across the street from Peter's house Old man Abernathy was on his loud lawnmower tending the yard back into submission. Next door to him Mrs. Johnson was pruning her prized hydrangeas. Or rather waving the shears around in the air as she gossiped about events with Mrs. Collinsworth next door. As they did her young daughter, Lucy Collinsworth rolled her eyes and snuck off around the corner to take a drag off the vape pen she'd been pocketing in secret from the judgment of her mother. Down the street several of the younger neighborhood kids were playing kicking around a soccer ball between them.

Cassandra turned and walked right up to the front door of Peter's house and pressed the doorbell. When it opened, she immediately stepped inside Telling him, "Close the door and lock it."

As he did she looked around the entry foyer of his home asking, "How many rooms are in your house, Peter?"

When he answered she turned to face him. "You have played my games well without complaining and have earned a reward. You have forty-eight hours. The only rule to this game is that you fuck me at least once in every room in this house. Including right here and right now up against your front door. Other than that I'll be your slave for the next two days...." She reached into the gym bag and pulled out a dog collar and leash. "...provided you can rip the clothes off of me and force me to wear this for you."

She held the leash and collar for him to take, but when he reached to take it from her she dropped it onto the floor and slapped him across the face snarling at him. "As if you have the balls to make me your slave! You? A teenaged punk kid with a girlfriend whom he can't even manage to fuck in the ass let alone her pretty little pussy. We both know you don't have what it takes to take what you want. I find you so completely boring to me. You're pathetic!"

She saw the fire starting to spark in his eyes as she crossed her arms and tilted her head back to laugh derisively at the very idea. With any luck he'd get good and mad at her harsh words, and then she'd be thrown against that door hard and her easily ripped off clothes will be absolutely shredded off her as he took his reward from her.
-

 

[ericrodman101]

Pete lay back on his parents' bed, the events of the past few days spiraling through his head. He could hear her in the bathroom and mused about joining her except that he was so sore it was nice just to lay still for a few minutes. And in a soft bed. They'd done so little fucking in a bed Pete almost craved something vanilla for a change. Vanilla. For a change. Fuck!

He'd waved his parents off on their road trip in the RV, wondering what they knew or suspected or imagined. Their kid, virginal academic polite respectful Pete, fucking the porn star next door, fucking her in her house, in their house, in the pool, in the yard, in the car. Fucking her mouth, her cunt, her ass. Doing things he'd watched on film, things he didn't even have names for, letting her do things to him, crazy, sexy, debauched things. The toys. The implements. The stretching and teasing and hurting. Cum everywhere. Boy cum. Girl cum, if that's what you called the juices Cassandra produced. On his cock, his face, in his mouth. Wetting and soiling everything. A whirlwind of cum and cumming.

Pete looked down his body. He was hard. His cock stood red and erect, painfully erect. So sore. So much use. So many orgasms. And yet, if Cassandra walked into the room now she wouldn't have to ask. He wanted to fuck. Again.

He'd told her he wanted to fuck her up the ass and she'd made him wait. And the waiting had been all about her ass. Sitting on his face. The penalty. The game. Making him tongue her ass. Who ever thought about sticking your tongue into an asshole? And yet that's what he did. Feeling her tight hole with the tip of his tongue and then sticking it inside her. Her shitter. Fucking Jesus! It tasted like....Pete didn't really know. Revolting and delicious. Just the sheer obscenity of sticking his tongue into her asshole made him shiver with excitement.

And the way she fingered her clit while he tongued her. Her clit, right there in his face, her fingers strumming away, in that tiny space, tongue, clit, ass, fingers, the scent, the straining, the groaning, the lack of oxygen. And then her cumming on him. Squirting. Fuck! All over his face, like that's what normal people did. Normal pornstars, Pete guessed.

And then, when he thought he'd played the game and it was time to take her up the ass, Cassandra had sent him home. He'd sauntered into the house where his parents were packing for their trip and told them he'd been playing ball with Evan in the park. And they all just went about their business like he hadn't been fucking the woman next door.

He'd been shooting baskets with Evan in the drive the next day when Cassandra had driven up. Pete hadn't told his friend what had been going on even though he wanted to, so bad. She'd asked for help with her shopping, but the bag she handed him wasn't groceries. Instead it was filled with things she'd purchased from the adult store. He and Evan had sat in Cassandra's kitchen while she packed things away and had that crazy conversation about friendship. She'd made him hard with her foot under the table while they talked. All that stuff about sacrifice and money and the price of friendship. What the fuck did that mean? Was she going to fuck Evan too? Pete hoped so. Evan would enjoy it. They could fuck her together. He knew Cassandra liked group fucking. He'd watched her on video. Would Evan like it? Was his friend a virgin? Hmmm.

And then she'd telephoned. Late. His parents went to sleep early to prepare for their trip. Cassandra had instructed him to stroke himself while she fucked her ass with a dildo. That's what she told him. In her room in the house next door fucking her own ass. She teased him, tormented him about wanting to fuck her ass, her voice coaxing and cajoling, his cock hard, his precum running through his fingers and down the shaft. And then when he wanted to climax, her telling him no. To back off. Talking about Anna. Every day stuff. Like she was his aunt or his teacher. And just when he'd come down from the peak, Cassandra got dirty again, making him stroke, making him tell her what he would do to her ass, imagining the dildo stretching her, making her moan...he came... much too loudly in the lonely dark of his bedroom, as she came, yelling obscenities at him through the phone.

Continued below....

 

[ericrodman101]

...continued from above.

Cassandra had waited until his parents had left in the RV before coming over to his house. Somehow Pete had expected her to be there before they'd even turned out of the street, but she took longer. Just to tease him.

He opened the door when she rang, the neighbors going about their business in the street over her shoulder. Cassandra was dressed like someone from an office. Like a bank manager. 'Lock the door," she'd said, stepping inside. And then she'd asked how many rooms there were in the house. How many rooms?

So this was her next game. Forty eight hours to fuck her in every room in the house. She opened the gym bag he was carrying and taken out a leash. Fuck her as his slave. But when she held the collar out to him, she slapped him, insulted him.

"You're pathetic," Casandra had shouted at him, derision in her eyes. A teenage punk, she called him, who can't even take his girlfriend's pussy.

Pete had seen red. He knew now, lying on the bed, what had been going on. But at the time, his cheek stinging, the anger and contempt in her face, the leash limp by his side, his cock already hard, he hated this woman. Hated her smugness. Hated her power over him. Hated her making him wait for everything.

"Fuck you, Cassandra," he'd said. "Fuck you, bitch."

He'd pushed her hard against the door, banging her head. Her twisted mouth revolted him. Her eyes incensed him.

"Don't fucking speak, you whore," he'd said, reaching into his pocket and finding a bandana. Pete had grabbed her hard, turning her to face the door, then tying the bandana tight around her mouth, making it dig deep into her flesh. Of course, he knew now what was going on, what she was trying to make him do, but at the time he just wanted to hurt her, bend her to his will, take her....rape her.

Pete tore the clothes from Cassandra's back, the bank manager's clothes, the blouse, the skirt. Of course, she was naked underneath. He pushed his face into her back, biting her, feeling her flinch under his attack, his hands on her ass, between the cheeks, finding the hole he'd tongued, pushing his fingers inside, twisting, stretching, pinching. Then reaching round, one hand on a tit, the other between her legs, feeling for her cunt, pinching the nipple hard, pulling at her flesh.

"You've gone too far, you fucking bitch," he said. "This teenage fucking punk is gonna teach you a lesson."

The problem then had been how to fuck her, how to make her understand he was not to be toyed with, while enjoying it himself. Against the door just somehow didn't work for him. His cock was hard, poking into her ass. But did he hold her legs up, bend her forward, ask her to help?

Pete remembered crying 'fuck' loudly, almost giving up, then grabbing her, wheeling Cassandra across the lobby and throwing her over the sofa in the front room. She'd lain there, folded in half, her head over the back, her gagged mouth pointing at the ground, her ass up in his face, as if he'd winded her. Pete pulled her legs open, exposing her asshole to the light. Fuck how his cock hurt, hard and swollen and ready to burst. He'd climbed onto the sofa and stood over her, suddenly remembering they were unlubed. Not that he'd cared much at the time for her comfort, but only his own. Pete spat hard, rubbing his spittle into her asshole, feeling her adjust herself, watching the rosebud breathing like a tight little mouth, as contemptuous of him as her real mouth. Cassandra groaned through the gag. He couldn't make out the words and slapped her ass hard.

"Shut the fucking fuck up," he yelled. He pulled her butt cheeks apart with his hands, punching his fingers into her, opening the sphincter, staring into the dark red void of her rectum. Then straddling her, he pushed his cock inside her. Hard. Feeling the pressure, then popping into her, leaning down as deep as he could, splitting her, cleaving her, his hands on her back, holding her tight under him as he pumped her.

"You stupid fucking cock tease," he said. Then just moaned as he came. So soon. Only a couple of thrusts and he came. Fuck! How Pete had wanted to take her ass slowly, make her feel him, make her suffer, make her understand he was no weak, stupid, inexperienced kid.

"You stupid fucking...."

Lying on the bed and thinking back on it, Pete knew it was what Cassandra had wanted. How she'd wanted him to take her ass all the time. She'd wanted him to lose control and he had. Putty in her hands. He'd enjoyed it, of course, even if it had been much too quick. But that was the nature of rape, she told him. It wasn't an act of love, but of power. Except the power had been all hers.

And how she'd enjoyed it, Cassandra had told him. His strength and power and resolve. How he hadn't held back, but taken her as hard as he could. How he was no longer an ass virgin.

'My little teen rapist,' she'd called him when finally he'd disengaged and fallen exhausted onto the couch, and she'd lifted herself up, undone the gag and nestled beside him. 'I fucking enjoyed that, Peter,' she'd said. 'I only wish we'd filmed it for your parents, for hot little Evan. For cute churchy virginal Anna.'

Cassandra's words had made Pete swallow his spit, cough, gulping for air. Is that what he was? A rapist? He guessed so. It's what he'd wanted to do. And he'd done it. But then it's what she'd wanted him to do. What she'd made him do. So it wasn't really rape, just acting it out. Yeah?

'Yeah,' Cassandra had agreed. 'Like I do on film.' And she'd googled one of her films and they'd watched it together on the big screen in his front room. Cassandra and a room full of men simulating gang rape while she fiddled with his cock on the sofa. And when the film was over and she was interviewed by the film maker, they'd fucked again on the sofa, face to face this time, his cock in her pussy until he was ready to cum again and she'd insisted on him cumming in her mouth. And he had the strange sensation of looking down into Cassandra's eyes as he sprayed his seed across her face and between her lips onto her tongue while across the room on the screen, the same face was receiving the same treatment only from more than one cock.

And then they'd gone upstairs to his parents' bedroom because that's where Cassandra told him she wanted to continue the game. His parents' bedroom

Pete heard her finish in the bathroom. The leash lay limp on the end on the bed. His cock was still hard.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

Cassandra turned off the tap in the bathroom sink and looked up at her reflection in the mirror. She gotten pretty banged up when she had pushed Peter to explode on her. She'd done a fantastic job on him planting the seeds that fed a growing resentment that she had maneuvered into taking her very roughly there. Peter had been glorious in how violent he had been with her, throwing her around, and without regard for her piledrived his cock right into her unprepared asshole. It had hurt like hell and she couldn't have had it any other way. Then they had watched her videos and fucked on the sofa in the living room.

This game had started off well, but her young lover had made a crucial mistake. She had told him that she'd be his sex slave for forty-eight hours if he forced her to put on the collar and leash. Despite his aggressiveness he never actually had her put it on her. So, how to penalize him for not playing the game according to her rules....

She'd glimpse something when Peter was synching up the video on his phone to be watched on their big screen TV in the living room. His father and mother had digitized and uploaded to the cloud several home videos into an archive, including one that she'd just saw for a second before Peter had managed to play the video of getting gang raped by four guys.

This game was going well, but had the potential of going stale on her.

An idea was forming in her head to cure that. The leather body harness she had worn lay on the bathroom floor leaving her completely naked, a fact she had little concern over. She opened the door to see Peter lying in his parent's bed, his cock already stiff and standing at attention, ready for another fucking. God bless that teenaged libido.

She said nothing to him but turned to face the far wall of the bedroom. Here there was a dresser and above that a wall-mounted TV. She picked up the remote on the dresser and turned it on. It took her a good moment to access the house's cloud and find the old home video in the archives. There it was. She pressed play and turned to smile wickedly at Peter.

The video began with the camera person asking several family friends and family members for stories of the bride and groom and their well wishes for the happy union about to be formalized in front of them. Staring into Peter's eyes she seductively crawled onto the bed and bent down placing a kiss on his foot.

On the video an aunt was telling a funny anecdote of a shopping trip shortly after her sister met Peter's father. She licked and suckled on Peter's toes as the aunt spoke of how in love her big sister seemed to be. A moment later she was slowly licking her way up to his knee. The video had shifted to man named Gary that spoke of how he and Peter's father were total fraternity bros partying all the time and chasing cheerleaders instead of studying. Gary never thought his best bud would ever settle down to become responsible and not with a good woman like Peter's mother. When she reached his groin Cassandra rolled his testicals in her mouth sucking on one left and then right. Then as Gary's story stopped and the bride's boss Lydia came up she kissed and licked her way up his shaft swirling her tongue over the tip before sucking it into her mouth. Lydia spoke of how dedicated Peter's mother was at her job as a teacher. She licked and kissed her way up Peter's stomach and chest as the video went to several of his mother's second grade students wishing Ms. Hargrave happiness with her new husband Mr. Tranter. As Peter's grandmother came on screen talking how proud of her son she was and how eagerly she awaited to be given grandchildren to spoil rotten she kissed up his neck to make out with his lips.

As the wedding music started she said to him staring into his eyes. "Peter, I want you to fuck the shit out of me during your parent's wedding video. If you can time it just so that you come inside my pussy the second the preacher announces your mother and father man and wife you'll earn a very special reward." She then reached down and took his cock and placed right up to her pussy and sank down around the tip slowly, so tantalizingly slowly. Then with just his cockhead inside she stopped. If he wanted more he would have to take it from her.

In the video "Here comes the Bride" began playing as his mother in a resplendent white wedding gown was escorted by her father down the aisle as Peter's dad beamed at her happily.

 

[ericrodman101]

Pete watched Cassandra return naked from the bathroom, contemplating placing the collar round her neck and what he could do to her leashed. He wanted her ass again. Fucking her anally had been a revelation, so filthy and arousing that he wondered why anyone fucked vaginally unless they wanted babies. And how she'd struggled and fought. Having watched Cassandra fuck on film and then having done it to her himself, he couldn't quite decide how much was acting and how much was genuine pain. The thought of being fucked in the ass himself was slowly forming in his head as something to be tried, experimented with, as some sort of test, albeit with a safe word. It must hurt. He hurt Cassandra. Yes? Or was it all role play?

But rather than climb straight back onto the bed with him, Cassandra found the remote control and turned on the TV. He watched her select something to play, but without paying much attention for she climbed onto the bed and kissed his foot. His fucking foot.

And then she really surprised him. Cassandra had selected his parents' wedding video. Pete was trying to remember the last time he'd watched it. He certainly hadn't watched it all the way through ever. Fuck! His aunt, some guy he didn't know. Talking crap. And all the while Cassandra licked her way up his leg.

Cassandra had his testicles in her mouth when his mother's boss appeared. Crazy old Lydia. While this woman licked his balls and then kissed his cock.

There were students on the screen now, kids appearing across Cassandra's head as she kissed his stomach. And then his grandmother appeared as Cassandra found his neck and his lips. She stared into his eyes now, obscuring the screen. The game. The next test.

"I want you to fuck the shit out of me during your parent's wedding video," she said.

His parents fucking wedding video.

"If you can time it just so that you come inside my pussy the second the preacher announces your mother and father man and wife you'll earn a very special reward."

How the fuck did he stay hard listening to his parents' wedding video? Cassandra took his cock in her hand then fitted it inside her pussy, before settling down so that just his cock head was inside her. Stopped. Just like that. Teasing him, hard and hot, the sensitive skin of his glans burning and fizzing.

And then Pete heard "Here comes the Bride" and under Cassandra's arm his mother and grandfather walked down the aisle.

"You crazy fucking cock tease," he said, launching his hips upwards and punching inside her. "You crazy fuck."

Pete wrestled Cassandra down until he could roll on top of her, all the while thrusting himself deep into her pussy.

"Crazy...fuck..." he heard himself saying over and over, as if trying to drown out the sound of the video. And then "you like it when I fuck you hard? Yeah?"

He waited for her to nod, then pulled himself up a little higher onto his knees, raising her hips with him, then placed a hand on her neck.

"You like it hard, Cassandra?"

She went to speak, but Pete gripped her neck.

"It's not a question, you fucking whore," he said. "You like it hard. Fucking hard, bitch."

Pete surprised himself a little at how freely the filth and aggression flowed from his mouth, but Cassandra was nodding still, mouthing something into his palm. He wanted all of her, to mark her, soil her, destroy her, make her remember him the way he knew she'd forgotten all the cocks she'd taken inside her on film.

The preacher was speaking now. The wedding ceremony. He could nearly recite it from hearing it on TV so many times. 'Do you take this woman...this man...or forever hold your peace.'

"Fuck you..." Pete slammed into Cassandra, her head banging hard against the board at the back of his parents' bed. He wanted to pick her up, throw her around, bend her in half, break her, and yet she just kept bouncing under him, taking everything he could offer. Even as she struggled to breathe he could see the message in her eyes...'fuck me harder, punk. Fuck me harder....'

Pete didn't want to cum in her pussy. He wanted to cum in her ass or her mouth. Or ass to mouth. Pussies were for pussies. But she'd promised a reward. Fuck! A special reward if he could cum in her pussy as the preacher pronounced his parents man and wife. The preacher was close. Pete was close. Fuck!

He came, pulsing inside her, pushing hard on her neck, her head slamming into the board, pounding into her...man and wife...fuck!

And then he was spent and rolled aside, his cock flopping out of Cassandra's pussy and slapping against his thigh as the Wedding March rang out in the room.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

As the wedding music started she said to him staring into his eyes. "Peter, I want you to fuck the shit out of me during your parent's wedding video. If you can time it just so that you come inside my pussy the second the preacher announces your mother and father man and wife you'll earn a very special reward." She then reached down and took his cock and placed right up to her pussy and sank down around the tip slowly, so tantalizingly slowly. Then with just his cockhead inside she stopped. If he wanted more he would have to take it from her.

In the video "Here comes the Bride" began playing as his mother in a resplendent white wedding gown was escorted by her father down the aisle as Peter's dad beamed at her happily.

"You crazy fucking cock tease," He roared thrusting his hips off the mattress and driving his cock within her with reckless ferocity. She let out a deep moan at the violent intrusion that only seemed to spur Peter on. "You crazy fuck."

She struggled against him but found herself rolled over with him on top of her. He kept repeating how what a crazy slut bitch she was. She knew what he was doing. He was filling the air with these invectives to drown out the marriage ceremony between his parents going on in the video. She didn't mind. She was here for his wildside.

He snarled down at her driving his cock deep within her pussy, "You like it when I fuck you hard? Yeah?"

He had gone so deep that each breakneck thrust came with a dollop of pain that made her nipples and clit harden and another deep moan come out of her soul. She could of course easily turn the tables on him right now, but what would be the fun in that. So in answer to his question she only nodded like she was actually getting her just deserts now. She opened her mouth to voice her confirmation but his hands shot out to wrap around her throat and clamp over her mouth to silence any answer she might have given him.

"It's not a question, you fucking whore," he glared down at her. "You like it hard. Fucking hard, bitch."

His rage and fierceness was frightening and exhilerating. Who would've guessed, the timid, good little boy she'd met days ago had this monstrosity within him? No one would have, except Cassandra. All the boy scouts had the ogre shackled deep within them just waiting for someone to come along with the keys to set them loose. If she wasn't busy getting fucked out of her mind right now she'd be gloating over her accomplishment with Petey boy here.

He was magnificent, masterful, not letting her do anything but lay here take just what he wanted to give and really what she wanted to receive. It was amazing, and brutal, and the best part of this game.

She was bent in half with her ass off the mattress and his cock driving ruthlessly into her poor little pussy. The headboard beat into the wall with every violent motion of his hips into her combining with the sound of the clapping of his hips against the meat of her ass and thighs with such force it sent ripples over her flesh. They continued like this beating an undertone tattoo to the video as the preacher went on about the sanctity of holy matrimony. Her breasts shook and swayed on her chest with each thrust. Her head butted against the headboard each time it slammed into the wall.

It was magnificent. He was magnificent.

Of course, she just didn't lie there and take it, no. There was a chance his ferocity would waver, and the violence of this rough fucking would begin to slacken. Cassandra was not about to let that happen. Her own hand reached up to take the back of his head and pull it down to mere inches away from hers. Now they were face to face, with him looking into her eyes egging him on. More. Harder. Rougher. More. Her other hand reached behind him, nails digging in, and dragged painful red lines from shoulder down to flexing ass.

And then just as the preacher wound down and the finish line to this game could be seen. His parents were announced man and wife. She watched in his eyes as his hips stopped and she felt his body tense. And he came, and Cassandra let herself go as well. They came together, hard.

When it was over they lay on the rumpled sex-smelling sheets of his parents' bed staring up at the ceiling gasping for air, unmoving. the video kept playing as his parents walked down the aisle and out of the church to the car waiting outside. Friends and family cheered, throwing rice as they left for a honeymoon where they would conceive the son that had just defiled their marriage bed with the worst kind of woman. A woman he had gleefully allowed into their home.

She laughed between pants of air rolling over and tenderly caressing his cheek, so he'd look at her. "Very well played, Pete. You will get your reward in the next game we play together."

They lay like that for some time, naked on his parents' bed. Just staring into each other's eyes and being tender with each other-something completely incongruous with their rather violent activities a few minutes before.

Alas he was a male, and as the case after a man had truly energy-intensive sex, and a massive orgasm at its climax...he had soon drifted off to sleep.

Cassandra smiled then silently removing herself from the bed and out of the room. Now it was time for some snooping around. Naked, she went through the rooms of Pete's house gauging possibilities and rifling through papers and personal items. She eventually found his phone and spent a few minutes before figuring out the code to unlock it. From there she sent a few texts to his mother, Evan, and dear sweet poor old Anna.

Once done with that she grabbed a few things, the bottle of red wine from the wetbar in his father's mancave downstairs, a few fruits and veggie finger foods from the fridge, and then returned to their bedroom Peter still slept there innocently. She watched him for a few minutes. He looked just so cute she wanted to gobble him all up. She turned and went into the bathroom leaving the door to the bedroom wide open. She left his phone lying on the bed next to him.

She began pouring a bath and added the expensive french bubble bath stuff his mother had been keeping for a special night. When the water and the bubbles were high enough she slipped inside and laid down in the tub luxuriating in the warmth of the water and making sure the bubbles covered her in all the places that would be irresistable to him. She still had some time so she poured herself a glass of the wine and ate some of the fruits and veggies.

At 2:30 his phone rang waking him up. It was Anna calling just at the time they had agreed to call and talk over the texts she'd sent her earlier.

When he noticed her in the bath alluringly covered in bubbles she lifted a hand and curled a finger for him to come to her. "Answer the phone, Peter. Keep her talking. Don't let her realize what you're doing to me. The longer you can keep her on the phone the better your reward in the next game will be."

as he answered the call she arched her back raising her bubbles covered breasts in the air for him to wipe off and feel up. Maybe if he was feeling bold he'd slip his hand under the water to find the waterproof vibrator she had laying between her thighs for him. That would surprise him since it was currently veiled from his eyes by the bubbles. Or maybe he'd choose to feed her the fruits and veggies peice by peice by hand or from mouth to mouth.

He had to be careful whatever he chose, for Cassandra did not plan to be silent whatever choice he made.

"Hey," Anna's voice came over the phone, "I only have a few minutes while the kids are doing arts and crafts, but I'm glad you called. I've been missing you the last couple days. you haven't even texted me until today." She giggled teasing, "You're not being a very good boyfriend, you know?"

 

[ericrodman101]

Pete woke to the ringing mobile. His mind still foggy, he struggled to think how long he'd been asleep. Stretching for his phone, he found it was out of reach on the dressing table and wondered how it got there. Pete stood, naked, the bed clothes falling onto the floor. As he stepped across the room, Cassandra called from the bathroom.

"Answer the phone, Peter," she said as he looked round the door. Cassandra was lying in the full length bath, covered in bubbles. But as he looked she arched her back, raising her body out of the water, which tumbled away leaving her tits adorned with foam. "Keep her talking."

Her? How the fuck did Cassandra know who was calling him. He picked up the phone. Anna. 2.30pm. She would be teaching.

"Hi babe," Pete said. Cassandra was still talking from the bathroom. Something about not telling. Well, of course fucking not. Jesus! And then she promised him another reward if he could keep her on the phone. 'Her' again. Like Cassandra knew who would be calling him at 2.30.

"Hey," Anna said, complaining he didn't text her much, until today. Today? What the fuck? And his phone was on speaker, high volume, the noise surprising him. "You're not being a very good boyfriend," she said.

This was getting seriously weird, Pete thought. He turned to look at Cassandra, noticing the cut fruit on the plate beside the bath. She was running a finger round the inside of her mouth, seductively. Keep her on the phone, she'd said. Don't let her realize what you're doing to me. Hmmm.

"Sorry," Pete said automatically. "You OK?"

Cassandra arched her back again. He watched the water run off her body a second time. This time she placed a hand on each tit and wiped away the bubbles, then pinched each nipple tightly while she blew him a kiss.

Pete listed to the long pause at the other end of the phone. "No, I'm not OK, Pete. Like I said, you don't phone, you don't text. And then you tell me to call you at 2.30 when you know I'm teaching and you send me a photo of a vibrator. Do you know how embarrassed I was opening that pic in the room with the others?"

A picture of a vibrator. What....? Pete tried to check his phone while Anna talked, to get a look at the text and the picture Anna said he'd sent. Cassandra was beckoning to him now, one finger curling over, the other deep in her mouth as she sucked it.

"I don't know....." he began, but thought better of it. On his screen popped a picture of a vibrator. He knew what it was and besides, it was cut and pasted from a catalogue. The caption said waterproof rechargeable vibrator. It was bright pink, curved like a banana to fit in the hand maybe, with two uneven rounded ends which he guessed meant one end for the pussy and one end for the ass, but which was which?

Without thinking he walked into the bathroom. "Do you want me to use a vibrator?" Anna asked. "Is that it? Or do you want to use one on me?"

The idea had crossed Pete's mind. Anna wouldn't let him use his cock or his fingers on her, except for the lightest petting and only then through her panties. Should he say yes?

"Do you want to use a vibrator? Maybe you'd like it," he said, watching Cassandra reach for a strawberry and suck it into her mouth.

"No I don't want to use a vibrator," Anna said, "and I can't imagine why you would ask. It's dirty. Obscene. I love you, but...."

'Keep her talking,' Cassandra mouthed before sucking on a grape.

"Ummm.....I love you too, babe," Pete said.

"Well, you don't sound very excited about it," Anna said.

This wasn't going too well, Pete thought, totally distracted as Cassandra reached for a banana, arched her back again, raising her pussy out of the water this time, placing the banana against her wet gash.

"I am," Pete said. "Very excited." He looked down. His cock was hard. If he stepped any closer to the bath Casandra might reach over and stroke him, or even suck him. "I'm hard for you. Just thinking about you, babe."

"Well, don't be," Anna said. "Learn to control yourself. Thinking about me and a vibrator is so disrespectful. You know what I said about respect. It's just like what Pastor Wainwright said in chapel last Sunday. Boys and respect. I think I want you to come to chapel next Sunday with me so we can talk to the pastor and get you straightened out."

'Chapel,' Cassandra mouthed, blowing him a kiss as she rubbed herself with the banana before taking a bite.

"You know I don't like...." Pete didn't know whether to say chapel or Pastor Wainwright. Neither would go down well with Anna. Cassandra held the banana out to him. He imagined how it would taste after it had been rubbed against her cunt.

"You don't like what?" Anna said.

Pete leaned down and bit off the end of the banana, then watched as Cassandra fed the stump between her lips, slowly, then out again.

"Oh, you know," Pete said, his mouth full of fruit.

"Are you eating? Anna asked.

"Mmmm," Pete said. "Banana."

Cassandra slapped the water with her hands.

"Then what's that splashing noise?"

"I'm eating banana in the bath," Pete said. It was almost true but it sounded like the craziest lie he'd ever told. "Naked and hard for you, babe."

Cassandra shook her head to show her displeasure. Pete waited for Anna to reply. And waited.

"I gotta go," she said finally. "You're just being dirty and I don't like it. And you know I don't like it. It's why you do it, isn't it? Just to upset me. Sometimes Peter, I don't think you respect me at all. And don't send anymore pictures like that one."

Anna hung up. Pete stood naked in the bathroom, swallowing the last of the banana. Cassandra leaned forward, water and foam dripping off her tits, her hand reaching out towards his swollen cock head.

"Was that long enough?" he asked. "Or should I phone her back?"

 

[Veroe]

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

"Was that long enough?" he asked. "Or should I phone her back?"

Cassandra shook her head firmly. "You failed, Peter."

She got up so she was kneeling in the soapy bubbly water of the bath and pointed at him. "Now you have to pay the penalty for your failure. Step into the tub facing the wall. Put your hands flat on it. Now stick your ass out towards me. Spread your legs out wider until the sides of your feet touch the sides of the tub."

It left him bent over with his ass out level with Cassandra's face his erection hanging between his spread legs. She ran her hands up the back of his legs slowly, drawing out the moment, until finally reaching his asscheeks. There they each took one and spread them open for her. The little pucker of his asshole stared back at her. She leaned in moving her face between his spread buttocks tongue extended to swirl and flutter over and around that little pucker.

Was he enjoying this?

No matter, his penalty for his failure was only just beginning.

Her tongue pushed inside, just the tip at first swirling over flesh that had never known the caress of a woman's attentions before now. Coaxing, encouraging him to relax, become looser, let more of her tongue within. After a moment it obliged, and she soon had her lips against his asshole and her tongue delving within. As her tongue continued exploring the virgin territory of Peter's asshole one hand left his buttock and lowered to between his legs, Fingers curled around his shaft and began to languorously stroke it down and back up.

They continued doing this for some time before she pulled away and stared at the open eager hole she'd been eating out. The hand stroking his cock reached over to pick up his phone. She held it so he could see it too as she casually typed in his phone's unlock code and opened his contacts. She didn't select Anna. No, instead her thumb hovered over the selection that just said simply: Mom.

"As before, Peter," She commanded, "Keep her on the phone and don't let her realize what I'm doing to you."

Her thumb pressed over the name, and his phone began calling Peter's mom.

"Hello, honey," Came his mother's cheery voice over the speaker phone as Cassandra laid the phone on the edge of the tub directly beneath Peter's face. "Only gone half a day and you're already missing us?" She playfully teased.

Her hand returned to his ass and as she continued rimming his asshole she used one finger to push inside.

"Ask him if he's started on that list of chores we left for him?" Came his father's voice louder than necessary. Apparently, he didn't quite realize his wife's phone was quite capable of picking his voice up at a normal decibel level when seated right next to her behind the steering wheel of the big RV they had rented for this trip.

Cassandra's hand continued stroking his cock a little faster now as she ducked down and captured one whole testical into her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she applied suction to and pulled until it was taut. The finger was pushing in and out of his asshole to the first knuckle and deeper to the second now.

"Keep your eyes on the road and let me talk to our son, okay?" His mother chided his father over the phone.

She began pushing in a second finger pumping into his asshole as her tongue swirled over the testical in her mouth, still sucking on it and pulling it taut. Her hand left his cock reaching down into the water and lifting up the vibrator there. When it came on to it's lowest setting it wasn't especially loud, but there was an audible whirring sound coming from it. She brought it up to his asshole. The two fingers stretching it wide as the tip meant to go inside holes such as this was pushed into it. Finally, the testical escaped her mouth with a wet popping sound.

"Honey," His mother asked, "What are those sounds? What are you doing?"

 

[ericrodman101]

Pete stepped into the bathtub as Cassandra commanded and spread his legs until only the pressure of the sides was stopping him from falling over. And then she did something to him he'd seen on film, but never imagined doing himself. Cassandra pulled his butt cheeks apart and stuck her tongue in his asshole. He tried to relax but it wasn't easy, especially with his cock ramrod hard, the tip against against the wall. And then without letting up on tonguing him, she grabbed his cock, wrapped her fingers round the shaft and stroked him.

He wasn't sure how he felt except it was pleasurable and insanely filthy. Every fiber of his being said 'Pete Tranter, you're going to hell'. And then when he was sure he was going to spurt his seed onto the wall tiles, Cassandra relented, pulling her tongue back and picking up his phone.

Anna, he thought, imagining for a moment how it feel to be tongued up the ass by his girlfriend. But his mother answered, on speaker.

"Keep her on the phone," Cassandra instructed, returning her attention to Pete's ass, pushing a finger inside the tight hole, causing him to gulp.

"Hello honey," his Mom began, and then his father asking about chores. He imagined them driving slowly, holding up the traffic, singing country and western, looking for pancake houses, like every fucking driving holiday they'd ever been on.

"Keep your eyes on the road," his mother said. Cassandra had a testicle in her mouth now, pulling his cock down, her head between his splayed thighs, sucking hard, painfully almost, the finger deep inside his rectum now, twisting and turning.

"...and let me talk to our son." A second finger stretched his asshole. And then Pete heard a buzzing sound. Cassandra had fetched a vibrator from the water and switched it on, pink and banana-shaped, with bulging rounded ends. Then one in the text which Anna had received. Had Cassandra been fooling with his phone? His parents....no.....surely not. He felt her push it against his asshole, between her outstretched fingers, opening him up even more if that was possible, pinching and grinding as he felt the round end entering his passage.

"Honey," his mother asked. "What are those sounds? What are you doing?"

What the fuck am I doing, Pete thought, adjusting his feet on the slippery base of the bath to accommodate the assault. He'd watched guys assaulting Cassandra on film with vibrators, and other toys, or their hands, or whatever they could find. He'd seen her taking inch after inch of foreign objects inside her body, her legs apart, her pink cunt and her bleached ass gaping like drains, smiling the whole time, cooing and encouraging them. Is that what she was doing now? How long was the fucking vibrator? How much of it was going to fit inside him? And the whirring sound? The fucking noise. His mother could hear it.

"Taking a bath, Mom," he said, unable to think of anything else.

"A bath? Not a shower? You are funny. What's that sound?"

The sound. Pete turned his head and met Cassandra's wicked gaze. She raised her eyebrows even as she screwed the vibrator deeper.

"Umm, the sound. Yeah...the new neighbor is mowing her grass. I think it's an electric mower. I can hear it inside the house...yeah."

"The new neighbor," his father said. "The fancy looking woman on her own?"

Pete imagined his mother slapping his father on the thigh at 'fancy looking woman'.

"You should go next door and offer to do it for her," he said. "You never know. She might appreciate some help and reward you."

Cassandra made a concerted push. Pete felt his ass give way even more as the vibrator sank deeper. How deep was safe, he wondered, letting out an involuntary groan at the discomfort.

"What was that, Peter?" his mother said. "Did you say something?"

"Let the boy go, honey," his father said. "He's taking a bath. You know what boys get up to in the bath." His father laughed.

"No, dear, I don't know...." And then his mother paused and Pete imagined the knowing glance between them. He almost contemplated telling them he was jerking off just to make them hang up so that he wasn't the one to end the call.

"You are filthy," his mother said. "Not you, Peter. You're father. I don't know what to say. But going next door and offering to help is a good idea, Peter. You're a strong lad and I'm sure she'll be grateful for help moving in and getting settled, a woman on her own like that. What's her name again?"

Pete almost answered, but his father said "Mrs Delamere or Delaware or something. I don't know what happened to Mr Delaware. Or maybe she's a Miss. Is that Denny's? We gotta pull over, Pete. Your mother wants to eat."

Pete felt Cassandra pull the vibrator back slightly, but only to increase the tempo of the vibrations before sliding it back in, causing him to groan audibly again. His mother said bye and before the line went dead he heard his father say something about boys being boys. In the relative silence, with just the buzzing of the vibrator and the dripping of soapy water, Pete bent forward, bracing himself against the wall, trying to distribute the pain around his body.

"Did I do OK?" he asked. "I didn't hang up. And can you get that fucking thing out of my ass?"

 

[Veroe]

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

"Did I do OK?" he asked. "I didn't hang up. And can you get that fucking thing out of my ass?"

Pulling the vibrator out and dropping it back into the bath water Cassandra stood up. Water and soap suds were sliding down her naked body as she did so. She reached out and grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head and pulled him so his back arched right up against her. She didn't speak up. Her words came in a whisper right into his ear. They weren't angry or heated in any way but if one could put any characteristic to the adjectives one would use to describe the tone of her whisper, they would be both dangerous and as sharp and as cutting as a razor blade to his throat. "What part of 'keep her on the phone' was so difficult for you to understand, Peter?"

She let him go then and stepped out of the bath, "You failed the game again." Crossing her arms and watching him standing there in the bathtub. "Now you'll have to pay an even harsher penalty."

She turned and walked out of the bathroom grabbing the bottle of red wine as she did. "Drain the tub and come find me to pay up."

It took a few minutes but when he did find her it was downstairs in his mother's workroom filled with the various arts and crafts projects his mother spent hours at a time working on. The window gave a picturesque view of his backyard in a sunny summer afternoon. Under it was a desk with all of Mrs. Tranter's scrapbooking supplies. In the center of the room was an antique table she'd been restoring for months and months now. And on the far wall was a cabinet filled with porcelain figurines painstakingly painted and cared for by his mother.

Looking at him Cassandra took one of them, a rather half-painted cherubic angel strumming a harp. "This is the penalty you have to pay."

She threw the figurine across the room and past him. It collided into the wall behind him shattering apart immediately. She picked another figurine a fully painted one of a dainty little ballerina. She held it out for Peter to take. "You will break everything in this room, Peter."

 

[ericrodman101]

Break everything in the room....hmmm. Pete stood naked, soapy water still dripping onto the floor of his mother's workroom, his ass still stinging from the vibrator. The curtains were drawn back and the backyard was in full sun. He could see the windows of the houses behind and wondered just how private they were.

So this was the next penalty. Smashing his mother's things. What was going on in Cassandra's head? What kind of crazy power trip was she on? And his phone. What had she sent to Anna besides the picture? And to anyone else?

Pete was still hard. Relentlessly so. He couldn't remember a time he was so hard for so long. Not jacking off to porn. Not being teased by Anna, not that she called it teasing. His girlfriend called it waiting. Waiting for what? He'd even thought about thinking about Anna when he was fucking Cassandra, but he didn't need to. Cassandra was so fucking hot. And available, standing before him, naked, her tits bigger than Anna's, heavier, heaving as she threw figurines about, her pussy shaved and cut like the pornstars he watched. No folds of skin, no flaps, none of nature's coy concealment. Just her gash, red and raw hanging out for him to see. To use. To destroy. Jesus!

So what if he trashed the room? He could blame an intruder. A raccoon getting in through an open window. A storm. Whatever. The mess would be cleaned up long before his mother returned. She'd be upset but not for long. Painting new figurines would make her just as happy as painting the ones he was about to smash.

"You fucking crazy bitch," he said to gauge Cassandra's reaction. "So I break everything in the room. Then what? Huh?"

She just looked into his eyes, waving the figurine, waiting for him to do as he was told. Do her bidding. Show her she was in charge.

And wasn't she? Had he stood up to Cassandra much at all? And even if he took control, if he raped her, say, wouldn't that just be a vindication of how much she was in control. Pete could hear her saying it....'break everything in the room and then rape me, Peter'. Is that what she meant when she said everything in the room? Herself included?

And was it rape? Cassandra Delacourt let men rape her for a living. There was nothing he could to do to her that someone hadn't already done. Nothing he could imagine that would be new or challenging. Nothing that could break her.

He needed a friend. He needed Evan. To support him. To share Cassandra. To even up the odds.

Pete walked across the room, his cock bobbing before him, snatched the figurine from Cassandra's hand, and dashed it onto the floor. Shards of plaster cascaded into the walls.

"What do I get for breaking everything in the fucking room?" he asked. "Do I get to break you?"

 

[Veroe]

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

She threw the figurine across the room and past him. It collided into the wall behind him shattering apart immediately. She picked another figurine a fully painted one of a dainty little ballerina. She held it out for Peter to take. "You will break everything in this room, Peter."

He looked at her in disbelief for a long moment before saying, "You fucking crazy bitch!"

She smiled to him at that waving the figurine before him, still as insistent as ever that he pay up on his penalty.

"So, I break everything in this room," He asked her, "Then what? Huh?"

She shrugged with a casual, "Then we move on to the next game."

He came up to her with the aggrieved air of some naive fool that just realized that all the games in the casino he'd been patronizing were all rigged in the house's favor. He snatched the figurine out of her grasp and threw it down to the floor shattering it at their feet.

"What do I get for breaking everything in the fucking room?" He glared angrily, "Do I get to break you?"

Break her? Him? Oh, that was adorable that he thought he could do that to her. Memories of her lying in her childhood bed huddled under the covers afraid as her mother's then boyfriend slipped inside next to her. Hands going everywhere...long before she knew anything about sex or rape.

Break her? She'd long since been broken before even moving next door to this foolish boy.

"For paying what you already owe...you get nothing more than the next game." She informed him picking up the next of his mother's prized figurine for him to shatter. "If you don't like that, then don't fuck up the rules of the game next time."

"You can quit the game at any time you feel that you can't handle playing along with it, Peter," She continued, "But once you do we're done. I have no interest in you outside of you willingly playing in my games."

She moved to the antique table in the center of the room. She perched her naked ass atop it and found it wobbly as hell. She poured herself a large amount of the wine in her wineglass and took a sip crossing her legs patiently. "Get to it, Peter. The faster you finish the faster we can move on to the next game."

 

[ericrodman101]

Pete was livid. Losing his temper. Frustrated and hot. Light headed. What was wrong with this crazy fucking bitch? Games? Smashing his mother's things was a game? Fucking in every room in the house he could understand. It was like keeping score. And he got what he wanted, it seemed. But this?

"You can quit the game any time..." Cassandra said. "If you can't handle playing along..."

Can't handle what, he thought.

"I have no interest in you outside of you willingly playing in my games."

Pete tried hard to figure out what Cassandra was saying. Or not saying. The words were simple enough. What she was explaining. That this was all about the game. Not about him. Not about Pete Tranter. Not about fucking some young dumb kid from next door. It was about games. Which meant what exactly? Competing? Winning? Losing? Victory? Power? Over him....or what?

Pete realized as he worked through these ideas in his head that he was still mindlessly throwing his mother's figurines against the wall. Hard. Smashing everything he could lay his hands on. And all the while Cassandra was perched naked on the antique table in the center of the room. Naked. The bitch was naked. Goading him. Like somehow he didn't deserve her. Deserve to enjoy himself. Deserve to fuck her. Deserve....

She was drinking wine now. Pete wanted to grab the wineglass and smash it too. And the bottle. And why not? None of this made sense, especially with his cock hard and his head throbbing and Cassandra naked, offering herself to him, but not just yet.

How many figurines had he smashed? He wasn't counting and he didn't imagine Cassandra was either. But his mother would know how many there'd been when she left, although it was too late to worry about that now. The smashed china lay everywhere, piling up against the walls, skidding across the floor as he threw the figurines down. It was all a crazy fucking mess and yet....as he proceeded to smash the figurines a voice in his head was keeping count. More than halfway, it said. Nearly finished, it said. The faster you finish the faster we can move onto the next game. Except that wasn't the voice in his head, but Cassandra, drinking wine, naked atop the wobbly table.

The thoughts he'd had of just taking her, just forcing himself upon Casandra and fucking her, subsided as the smashing continued, as the number of figurines left intact gradually diminished, as the shelves emptied and the floor became more messed up. Pete knew what he was doing was bad, but missing out on what he wanted, what Cassandra offered, was worse. Whatever it was she offered. Her body? Her cunt? The next game and another reward? Ecstasy? Oblivion? Fuck.

And then, finally, after hours or seconds, he couldn't tell, the last figurine left his hand and smashed against the far wall. Pete looked around, scanning the shelves and his mother's work bench, but that was it. All smashed, pieces everywhere, an ungodly mess, worthy of his mother's sanction. Pete felt ashamed as much as he felt aroused. He turned to Cassandra.

"So...?" It was equal parts question and statement. "So? I've smashed every fucking figurine in the fucking room, Cassandra, and I'm still fucking hard and my head fucking hurts and...."

He wanted to cry, but not in front of this crazy tormentor, this beautiful torturer, this object of his crazy lust. Pete wanted to demand Cassandra's response, but his words choked in his throat and he stood before her mute and desolate, shocked by the emotion he felt at what he'd done and the mystery of what was happening to him, what Cassandra was doing to him, in his house, fucking with his mind as well as his body.

"So....?"

 

[Veroe]

IC: Cassandra Delacourt

She moved to the antique table in the center of the room. She perched her naked ass atop it and found it wobbly as hell. She poured herself a large amount of the wine in her wineglass and took a sip crossing her legs patiently. "Get to it, Peter. The faster you finish the faster we can move on to the next game."

This made young Peter rather upset. He rounded around the room taking the figurines and angrily smashing them against the walls and floor. Meanwhile she sat on the table and sipped from her glass of wine. She watched him, waiting for him to finish paying his penalty for failure in their last game. Noting the rising of his ire, and the erect state of his arousal as well as Peter went around the stuff wrecking his mother's things.

Then it was all over. He stood there panting, practically vibrating in place with unspent rage, and desire pointed at her. He turned to look at her, His face tight and stormy as he glared at her. "So...?"

She smiled at the equally accusatory and pleading tone to the one word before he added. "So? I've smashed every fucking figurine in the fucking room, Cassandra, and I'm still fucking hard and my head fucking hurts and...."

"Good job." She smiled to him wickedly. Peter at his core was a good boy. He may have broken all of these things to appease her now, but his conscience would eat at him from this moment on. Much of his ire was spawning from the dissonance of what he knew was wrong and still doing it anyway.

"So...?" He repeated the word insistently.

"I understand, Peter, you're very upset and frustrated, and you need to vent it upon me somehow. This new game will give you a chance to do that, but the rules for it are kind of involved. So, be sure to pay attention to the rules this time. In fact, as you are right now, this game will most likely challenge you greatly to succeed in it."

"Your goal in this game is to use your fingers, hands, lips, tongue, and teeth to make me beg you to fuck one of either my breasts, my throat, my pussy, or my asshole." She placed the wineglass on the edge of the table and leaned back until she was laying face up on the wobbly table. It was not a large table, in fact, laying atop it only reached from the swell of her buttocks to the middle of her back. She had to arch her back thrusting her breasts up into the air with her head hanging down from the edge of the table. The shifting of her weight caused the table to rock and wobble dangerously. She gasped and had to reach out and grab the sides of the table to keep from falling off it. The wineglass on the table beside her rocked and the wine inside sloshed about disastrously but by luck stayed inside the glass when the rocking motion stopped.

"Once I offer my breasts or one of my holes for you to fuck you may use the hard cock to fuck it as roughly or not as you desire, Peter," She went on, "Though when you do, if you are too rough in fucking what I have offered to you the wineglass here may tip over and spill the wine or fall off the table altogether and shatter on the floor. If that happens the game will be over and you will have failed once again and owe yet another penalty."

She uncrossed her legs and split them in the air giving him an unrestricted view of pussy and asshole. "Also if you just say 'fuck it' and put that dick in one of my holes or between my breasts before you make me beg you for it...you will automatically fail the game and owe not one but two penalties. One for failing, and the other for not playing along with the spirit of the game."

She looked up between her breasts and split legs at him, "Do you understand all these rules?"

This was a good game. This game would challenge him. Peter couldn't just be a bull in a China shop. He'd have to use tact and strategy and self-discipline in order to succeed in it.

She hung her head back down hanging off the edge of the table and announced, "The game begins now, Peter."