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@risinginscorpio
Just the grossest Man ever getting His hands on me because He knows I just need a good, hard r4pe to make me a straight girl.
My lazy, slob, live-in landlord who inherited ten properties from His Dad and just lives off His tenants. Won't stop raising the rent and never picks up after Himself. He treats me like His maid and won't stop trying to flirt with me.
And, of course, I clean up His messes submissively. I let Him raise His voice at me when I forget to wash His stained and smelly undies with that delicious gross musk oozing from the crotch.
He barely showers. He's obsessed with some weird cave Man approach. His spot on the couch is thick with the scent of Cock. I don't want it gone bother trying to remove it; He'll just sit there again and drench His surroundings all over again. His body odour is just something I've learnt to love live with.
But this time He raised the rent, it's over my budget. His perverted solution is one blowjob a day to make up the extra $50. When I tell Him that makes each instance of sucking His Dick worth less than $10, He shrugs and says, 'I could increase the rent if that'd make you feel better, whore.'
Then He gets impatient. I'm shoved to my knees and held by the hair until His heavy, thick Cock can escape His ugly tracksuit pants and kiss along my parted lips.
He's already forging ahead into the depths of my throat by the time I remember I have hands to beat piteously against those strong thighs. He probably doesn't even know I'm protesting--too engrossed by the picture of violation occurring under His nose. And I'm a girl. He's stronger from sitting on that couch all day than I'll ever be from gym gains.
Lodged down my neck, I can feel His meat hardening further; a bar of iron that demands I look up more such that the angles of my throat and mouth better yield to the straightness.
I need to breathe, then. And I can't with this enormous, pumping Cock in my mouth sealed in... by my lips? When did I start sucking His Dick?
But I have my nose, still. In and out of the forest of wiry black pubes in time with His balls slapping against my chin; and I have to breathe.
I cum from the scent of His power. I'm His, now.
Little by little, law by gradual law, the role of women in society had completely changed. It started out small: strict, gendered dress codes implemented in schools and workplaces; a drop in funding for women’s scholarships; an ever increasing pay gap between Men and women. Then it escalated: women were forbidden from laws in teaching, medicine, law, and more, and forbidden from attending university; women could not own property or initiate divorces; married women were no longer allowed outside without their Husbands. Today, it was finally made official: women were property.
Married women were the property of their Husbands, their Owners. Unmarried (unowned) women were the property of their Fathers. women could no longer hold any job other than public service, which was designated for any unowned woman. Unattended women in public were free to be groped, degraded, used, and humiliated as any Men around them pleased. girls were no longer sent to the same schools as Boys. Instead, special schools had opened up to train girls for their future role in life.
It was a bit of an adjustment at first. When you had first been told you could no longer finish university, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. you called your mother to ask if she still had her job as a computer technician. she said she had been fired, and told she should be at home making more babies. you managed to find a job as a secretary, hired for your big tits and pretty face. The dress code had you wearing tight shirts, short skirts, high heels, and no underwear. It was demeaning, but you did it anyway. you knew you needed the job.
When the final property laws were passed, you were fired, your apartment was repossessed, and you had to move back in with your parents. your Father owned you now.
He had taken no time at all in taking full control of your mother. When you first arrived back home, she was wearing the sluttiest clothes you had ever seen on her, with a pink leather collar around her neck. It was like He had just been waiting for the chance to Own her without her being able to resist. you didn’t think a Man you had known so well and trusted your whole life would actually support these laws, but you were proven very wrong.
your younger sister had been moved from high school to a training school, and you could often hear her soft moans as she studied in her bedroom. you yourself were placed in the public service program. Every day, you would make your way to the service station for your shift, often having to leave hours early in case you were stopped and raped on the way. When you arrived, you would be stripped, gagged, bent over, and locked in to your service stall for your shift.
your exposed holes were on full display for all the Men passing by on the street to see. your arms were locked uselessly in the pillory you had been placed in, and your feet were secured to the floor by cuffs around your ankles, leaving you no way to escape the humiliating predicament. you couldn’t even close your legs at all to hide your cunt. you were embarrassingly turned on by it all, even though you hated feeling so objectified.
your stall was side by side with several others that also contained women, bent over with cunts ready to accept whatever the Men behind them were offering. Some women were already being pounded, their tits swinging below them with every thrust. From somewhere down the line, you could hear the muffled moans of one woman who was getting a particularly good fucking. you don’t know how she could find any enjoyment in this at all.
“Oh, what a hot piece of ass this one is,” you heard a Man say behind you. It was followed by a sharp slap on your right asscheek that had you yelping in surprise. “Stupid slut…” the Man muttered. “Hey, wait, I know you,” He said, stepping around to get a better look at your face. “you’re that bitch from My chemistry lab!” He laughed. “Glad to see you know your place now.”
Craning your neck to get a glimpse of His face, you did indeed recognize Him from some of your university classes. He had always been rather nice to you. you would even have considered Him a friend. He didn’t seem to care about that now, as He groped your tits with one hand and fondled your ass with the other.
He moved back behind you and you could feel Him slip a couple fingers across your slit, barely dipping into your hole. “Filthy slut. you’re dripping wet already. It’s like you were made for this.”
His cock slid into your cunt with barely a hint of resistance. you couldn’t help but moan as He quickly filled you as full as He could. The head of His cock just barely brushed your cervix, and you had to stop yourself from instinctively rocking back onto Him, craving more sensation.
He slowly pulled out, only to slam back into you, and He quickly settled into a rhythm of absolutely drilling your hole. you squeezed your eyes shut and willed yourself not to make any noises, even with the absolutely delicious feeling you got at the height of every thrust. you could feel shameful tears gathering on your eyelashes.
Each thrust shook your entire body in your stall. your tits swung violently below you. Every now and then He would land a slap across your ass that you were sure would leave a mark. Finally, mercifully, He stuttered in His movements, and with a low grunt, you could feel the warmth of His seed spilling against your cervix. He pulled out, gave your ass one final squeeze, and left without a word.
you weren’t sure if you could make it through the rest of your shift.
When you finally made it home, you found your Father speaking to a Man you had never met. your mother was quietly bouncing on her Owner’s cock while the two Men spoke, and she gave you a tight smile as you walked in.
“Ah, the slut is home!” your Father exclaimed when he saw you. “Go get that bitch sister of yours from upstairs. This Man is offering Me a lot of money for you two.”
you did as you were told. you knew better than to talk back to Father these days. He had been bad enough to argue with in the before days. Since the laws passed, upsetting Him would just get you beaten and fucked senseless.
you walked up to the doorway of your sister’s room (Father had long since taken the door itself off its hinges) to find her on the floor, in only her cropped school shirt, bouncing on a dildo, with one of her school’s training videos playing on the laptop in front of her. she was quietly repeating along with the video: “good sluts take cock, good sluts take cock.” you knocked on the doorframe to get her attention, and she looked towards you without stopping her riding or her mantra.
“Father needs us,” you said. “i think we’re getting sold.
she huffed in annoyance as she finally stopped fucking herself and let out a soft whine as she stood up off the dildo with a slick, wet noise. As she was being trained to do, she knelt over the dildo and proceeded to lick and suck every bit of her own juices off of it. you hated that the sight sent some small spark of arousal down to your cunt.
The two of you walked back downstairs together, your sister not even bothering to redress her bottom half. It would probably be coming off soon again anyways.
(Part two here)
(Part one here)
you and your sister stand beside the kitchen table as your Father presents you both to the Man seated across from Him. He has just sent your mother away to clean the living room so the two Men could focus on business.
“they’re very well behaved,” your Father is saying. “Been trained well. Never talk back, never ask questions. And they’ve both got the tightest little cunts.” He looks over to the Man with a slight smirk on His face. “Almost makes Me miss how their mother used to feel. But, then again, the wife makes a pretty good breeding bitch. Six weeks pregnant again already. Told Me she didn’t want anymore kids, but she doesn’t get much choice now,” He says, chuckling.
“Do they know how to cook and clean?” the Man asks, nodding towards you and your sister. “Would be nice to have some pretty little houseslaves around.”
“Oh, yeah. their mother’s been teaching ‘em well. You tell ‘em what to do and they’ll do it.” Father turns to you now. “Why don’t you girls put on a nice show for this Man? Take off your clothes, give us a spin.”
The cheap wine is warm in your stomach, making the room feel soft around the edges. You’re laughing with your best friend, the one guy you’ve always felt completely safe with. The conversation turns, as it sometimes does, to your dating life, to your firm identity as a lesbian.
He leans forward, his expression playful but serious. “How can you really know you don’t like men,” he asks, “if you’ve never tried fucking one?” You roll your eyes, giving your usual arguments. But he proposes a bet. A scientific test, he calls it.
“If you’re truly not attracted to men,” he says, his voice low, “then your body won’t react. I’ll just touch your clit. If you stay dry, you win. If you get wet… well, then you like it, and you have to jerk me off.”
It sounds ridiculous. A sure win. You’re a lesbian; your body knows this. Feeling bold from the wine, you agree. You lean back against the couch cushions, parting your legs just a little, giving him permission.
His fingers are surprisingly gentle when they slip under the waistband of your shorts and panties. You hold your breath as his fingertips find your clit, already soft and small. He doesn’t rub, not at first. He just rests them there, a warm, foreign pressure. Then he begins to move, a slow, deliberate circle. A jolt goes through you, sharp and unexpected.
You bite your lip, telling yourself it’s just the novelty, just the wine. But his touch is skilled, patient, and a treacherous heat begins to bloom low in your belly. You feel a slickness start to gather, a slow seep of wetness that coats his fingers, proving your body a liar with every soft, coaxing stroke.
I'm the prince of a nation at war and I've been captured by the enemy commander along with the leader of my army. The enemy commander takes one look at me and decides I'll be useful as a cumhole for him and his men and strips me naked, ripping my clothes to shreads. My army leader kicks and screams trying to escape his bonds to save me. The enemy soldiers force him onto his knees and the enemy commander throws my naked form down in front of him. He gets down and presses my face into my army leaders crotch before propping my hips up and slamming his hard cock into me. I scream and cry while he pounds me, my face grinding against my army leaders hardening cock. I feel hot cum filling my womb and I can't stop myself cumming on the enemy commanders cock. He pulls out and hot seed gushes down my legs. He gives his soldiers a signal and they all descend on me at once, fucking and filling all my holes with massive loads of cum while my army leader watches, his cock throbbing in his pants. Once the enemy army is done with me and I'm a cum soaked mess, their attention is drawn back to him. They rip the front of his pants open and his huge cock comes bouncing out, drawing some wolf whistles and jeers from the the soldiers. He tries to maintain his composure, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut while they stroke and tease his cock. After they've teased him for a few minutes two of the soldiers pick my limp body up off the ground and bring me over to him. They spread my legs open and push the head of his cock into my wrecked boycunt. The rest of his cock slides in easily until hes bottomed out in me and the soldiers leave me sitting limply in his lap. They tie us up in that position, leaving us there with his cock buried right against my cervix, occasionally rutting his hips against me which makes me clench and cum on him. He cums in me over and over, each time telling me how sorry he is and that hes going to get us out of here, but I'm fine with staying in this position a little while longer
Need more cnc voyeurism right nowww
Being forcibly held down by multiple people in the back room of a party or something while they start to strip me and grope me, struggling and hoping someone will come help
Then a man stumbles in and I reach for him thinking he’ll save me, but once he realizes what’s going on he starts to palm his quickly hardening cock through his jeans. Watching him watch, not even actively participating, but sitting in front of me so I can see him take his cock out and start to jerk off to my cries for help
Once I’m fully naked and bent over the other people start to take turns fucking me in whatever hole they want, all while the man is moaning and fucking his fist to the sight. He speeds up as more people take their turns, bucking his hips up at the sight of their cum in me. I can see the precum forming on his tip as his breathing gets faster and more erratic
I start to cry and finally his mouth falls open and he thrusts his hips as he cums, cock throbbing and shooting all over his hand and shirt. He rides the high still stroking, loving the sight of me being held down.
Eventually he slows and stops before silently cleaning himself up and leaving me to my torture, having never even touched me.
Thinking about object insertion again…. at work…
When the office slut messes up she has to bend over a desk and get another pen shoved in her ass. She can’t sit down for the rest of the day and just has to feel them stretching her hole out as she works. Her coworkers have fun spanking her and flicking the pens to make her moan. Maybe one will take pity on her and fuck her with the whole handful before she goes home
Fell asleep in the break room? Wake up to a seltzer can stuffed in your wet cunt and your boss cumming over your face.
Water bottles that are in the lost and found for too long will inevitably end up inside the front desk secretary, who likes to bounce on them while greeting guests. Any particularly observant customers who notice the secretary’s wet spot and flushed cheeks can face fuck them for free.
The CEO keeps a bottle of wine in his office for performance reviews. Good employees get to have a glass of it after servicing the boss on their knees. Bad employees, like you, get to be fucked with the wide end of the bottle in front of your coworkers, while they masturbate and take videos. Top performers also get to take turns using your mouth while you cry and moan. Maybe if you improve your work next year, they’ll let you touch your cock while your boss pumps the wine bottle into you.
Party favor
The festival lights pulsed like a heartbeat, bass thumping through your chest, the air thick with smoke and spilled drinks. You’d already lost count of how many pink cocktails you’d downed—sweet, syrupy things that made your head swim and your hips sway on their own. Your tiny glittery skirt rode up every time you danced, the crop top barely containing your heavy tits, piercings glinting whenever someone’s phone flashlight swept over you. You felt cute. You felt untouchable.
A group of guys circled closer. Tall, loud, smelling like cologne and sweat. One of them pressed a fresh drink into your hand without asking. “You look thirsty, babe,” he grinned. You laughed, too fuzzy to question it, and took a long sip. The world tilted a little more.
Hands started wandering. First just a brush against your waist while you danced, then fingers curling around your hip, pulling you back against a hard chest. You giggled, swatted half-heartedly. “Heyyy, personal space,” you slurred, but it came out more playful than serious. Another hand slid up your thigh under the skirt, rough fingertips grazing the edge of your thong. You squirmed, confused, brain lagging. “Wait—what are you…?” The words dissolved into a hazy laugh. Too drunk. Too high. Too warm.
They didn’t stop.
Someone tugged your top down, exposing one pierced nipple to the flashing lights. A mouth closed over it—hot, wet, sucking hard. You gasped, head lolling back against a shoulder. Part of you knew you should push away, scream, run. But the bass was so loud, the lights so pretty, and the ache between your legs was suddenly screaming louder than any alarm bell in your head.
Your body betrayed you first.
Your hips rolled back instinctively, grinding against the thick bulge pressing into your ass. A low, needy whimper slipped out before you could catch it. The guy behind you chuckled, dark and satisfied. “There she is,” he muttered, fingers slipping under your thong, finding you already soaked. “Knew you were a little slut under all that.”
You tried to form a protest, tried to say something sassy, something sharp—but it came out as a breathy moan when two thick fingers plunged inside you without warning. Your knees buckled. Someone caught you, held you upright while another hand yanked your skirt up around your waist. Cool night air hit your dripping cunt, then hot breath, then a tongue—flat, greedy licks that made your eyes roll.
You were still mumbling “wait… guys… I shouldn’t…” even as your thighs spread wider on their own. Even as you arched into the mouth devouring you. Even as rough hands pinched your nipples and tugged the piercings until you cried out—half pain, half bliss.
The first cock pushed against your entrance while you were still shaking from the tongue. No condom. No warning. Just a slow, stretching burn as he sank in deep. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream that turned into a slutty, broken moan the second he bottomed out. “Fuck—tight little festival whore,” he groaned, starting to thrust.
You stopped fighting.
Your hands reached back, clutching at shoulders, hair, anything to hold on while they took turns. One after another. Mouths on your tits, fingers in your hair, cocks in your cunt, your ass, your throat. You gagged, drooled, moaned around them like it was the only thing that made sense anymore.
Somewhere in the haze you heard yourself whimpering “more… please… use me…” between thrusts. The confused, dismissive girl who’d laughed off wandering hands was gone. Only the dripping, cock-hungry slut remained, hips rocking back to meet every brutal stroke, begging with her body when words failed.
By the time the last one finished inside you, your legs wouldn’t hold you. Cum leaked down your thighs, mixing with your own wetness. Your makeup was ruined, skirt twisted, top hanging off one shoulder. Someone tucked a crumpled bill into your shirt like a tip.
You stumbled toward the bathroom on shaky legs, still giggling dazedly, still dripping, still high as fuck.
And you knew, deep down, that you’d do it all again next time.
i think i could be a reallllllly good party favor.
my favorite fantasy (and the source of the blog name) is a world where everything is more or less the same, except that women are understood by everyone to be sexual objects for men. it’s a fundamental part of our collective human dna. some women hate being used, some women love it, and some are neutral, but all women understand that it’s their place.
the only real laws codifying this natural rule are the laws dictating that women cannot live in a residence without a man also living there, women can’t own cars and must take public transportation, women can’t be in a supervisory position without having her own male supervisor, etc. a woman’s vote is worth ⅓ of a man’s, and only men are permitted to vote on certain issues (especially anything regarding female ‘rights’).
cunt is so easily available that it’s unremarkable. a woman on her way to work might be gang-fucked on the bus, or she might just get a few casual gropes. a lesbian chats with her girlfriend over coffee while a man pulls out her tits and jerks off onto them. a newlywed swears her marriage vows not to her husband, but to his cock. some men keep their cunts on strict denial regimens, while others make them come over and over until the bitch is begging to stop. parents proudly present their daughters with crotchless panties on the day she turns 18. there are strip clubs and brothels and massage parlors for women who embrace their status as sex toys, just as there are office jobs for women who want to feel more dignified up until their turn on the daily urinal rotation.
women can be anything, except equal to men.
Snapchat #me
Snapchat #me
A school for delinquents--a good school, with new desks and new books and good teachers--that you can be sent to for free instead of serving jail time, for the low cost of letting men use your holes each night.
After all, you have to make it worth everyone's time to rehabilitate you. So of course the board members fuck you, since it's why they founded the school in the first place. The teachers get to fuck you, to incentivize them to work there instead of at a school without delinquents. Paying customers get to fuck you, because that's how the school keeps afloat. And anyway, even if you refuse to learn here, you'll be well-equipped to serve society by the time you graduate.
Don't worry, you'll get used to it. The first time might be bad, because they always break in new students with the strongest teachers so that you can't struggle and get away. When you feel him press his hips to your ass and cum deep inside you you'll feel despair, especially since no birth control is permitted at the school. But after the eighth, ninth, tenth time your struggling doesn't help and you feel a cock cumming inside you, violating you just like you deserve, you'll understand there's no point in trying to escape.
The worst part will be the embarrassment. A board member will kick your chair out from under you in the middle of class and shove himself inside you for hours, using you as a cockwarmer for a bit of relief in front of the class. Some men from your old life may pay a couple hundred dollars to pin you down and degrade you in a room full of men doing the same thing to other people. You'll cum on your old teacher's cock and hear his laughter. You'll squirt for the first time all over a family friend and he'll go home and tell your family that you're being trained perfectly into a good little cum whore.
By the time you graduate, you'll have a complete education, but you'll also be a good, well-behaved slut, conditioned to bend over and get wet on command.
can’t stop thinking about object insertion, especially accidental/forced/public object insertion.
you’re on a crowded subway and you feel so cute in your skirt that’s just little too short. you feel something cold touch your thigh from behind and flinch, but it’s too crowded to turn around and look. The cool sensation, maybe it’s metal? It’s dragging up your thigh a little higher now, under the hem of your skirt, and oh right, you’re wearing a thong today. There’s nothing stopping whatever this is from being pushed up against your hole.
You can feel your face turning red, feel the shiver in your stomach, but luckily you don’t see anyone paying attention to you. You start to turn your head, maybe you can at least see what’s happeni— the subway jolts hard as it comes to a stop, and it’s inside you, cold and hard and you know you moaned, but hope it got lost in the noise. You can feel it now, although it’s not that deep. The head of a metal water bottle, you think. You clench around it, almost involuntarily, and you’re definitely leaking now.
Are they doing it on purpose? It’s not moving, even as people exit and enter the train around you. You’re not moving either. You kind of want to. The subway starts up again, and with it, the bottle pushes a little deeper, and a little deeper, with the swaying of the train. It’s starting to stretch your hole as it gets wider, put there are passengers packed in on every side and you can’t move. Deeper, and it’s starting to hurt. How big is the bottle? Are they doing it on purpose?
You feel so full now, and it’s heavy, like it’s filled with water. But it’s moving so slow, and you can’t help but clench and buck your hips back a little, fucking yourself on the bottle. The train picks up some speed and suddenly it’s sliding in and out of you, rubbing against your spot with enough force that you can feel yourself getting close. The train is reaching a station again and fuck, you’re amount to cum in the middle of a crowded subway. It screeches to a stop and this time the water bottle slams deep inside of you, too deep, and you’re cumming, whimpering and spasming on the thick, cold metal. A few glances are thrown your way from passengers, but you’re too hazy from the pleasure to notice anything but the cum dripping down your thighs and the humiliation of what’s happening.
What was your stop again? More people are filing in and it’s too late to move or pull away. The bottle is still in you, still stretching and stuffing you. You don’t even know if its owner is still behind you, or if it’s just being held up by your tight hole. You realize if you take it out now, everyone will see the bottle fall from under you. They’ll know exactly why you were shaking and panting, and notice the cum flowing down your legs. You have to keep it in. You’ll have to walk off the subway without anyone knowing that under your skirt, a stranger’s thick, full water bottle is stuffed up your hole, fucking you with every step you take. It’s going to be a long ride. How many more times will you cum with all those people around you, not knowing if this was an accident, or if someone decided to shove something up your pretty hole because you were an easy target?