take me on a road trip with your friends, but make me cockwarm a dildo the whole time. something nice and big so i can feel the tip of it bullying my cervix every time we hit a bump in the road and, as time goes on, pushing against my bladder uncomfortably too.
maybe the others don't notice what's going on at first, but after one too many stifled moans from me they catch on, ignoring my protests as they start sticking their fingers under my soaked panties to feel how stretched out i am around the base of the dildo.
eventually we have to pull over for a 'bathroom break' and they force me to bend over the back seats for any passing car to see, tying my hands behind me with a belt, stuffing my panties into my mouth to keep me quiet, and pulling the dildo from my now gaping hole, before fucking me one by one, dumping their loads deep inside my cunt.
i'm too weak to protest when one of them decides to take advantage of the ruined hole before him, and i feel something hot flooding into my already overfull cunt. i let out a muffled plea, but he just slides the dildo back inside so nothing drips out, and rezips his trousers, patting my bulged stomach as he helps load me back into the back of the car.
after all, this trip has a long way to go yet, so i better get used to my new role as the entertainment. maybe a few more hours of being kept full and squirming will teach me my place.
(accidentally posted this stream of consciousness draft but figured I'll just correct my typos and leave it up for you guys. a peek behind the curtain of what I'm getting off to 99% of the time aka total disorganized fap fodder ,,)
Pervert kidnapper who steals me off to his remote cabin and turns me into his live in pet sex toy dog thing
Making me walk around nude outside, just panties and a collar and maybe mitts when he feels like it or little socks
Making me come out onto the back porch while he enjoys the nice weather so he can smack my cunt and watch me squirm, and shove his hand into my mouth until I'm choking and gagging and dry heaving, drooling around his fingers. Instead of leashing me, he straps another collar around my waist and cinches it tight like a corset so I'm having to sit just so and breathe carefully. He clips a yard line to it and used it to pull m around.
If I have to pee he makes me go out and piss in the grass like a dog in front of him, and uses the hose to spray off my cunt afterwards, not caring how cold it might be,,
The tight waist cinch also makes it so I can't eat or drink too much with it on and my bladder gets full faster so I have to pee a lot.
Ughhh giving me an enema with the waist cinch on to clean me out and me gasping and panting and bucking because it feels so tight it hurts until he allows me to release all the liquid again.
Bringing me back out to it on the porch and making me slide down a massive lubed dildo the size of his arm to sit on the floor next to him. Working on his laptop and occasionally telling me 'bounce' so I bounce up and down on it on command, but otherwise stay still.
Eventually I beg for the waist cinch to come off because it hurts and makes it hard to breathe, and he allows me to remove it, but I have to clip the leash to my collar. Making me choose to be contained to earn relief, but all I care about is the painful tightness around my tummy. I obediently move the clip to my collar, scrambling to remove the waist cinch and gasping when it finally loosens, shakily setting it down nicely for my owner and panting and rubbing my sore belly where there are deep indentations from the leather.
" Bounce," he instructs. " Five minutes, no breaks. "
I don't even hesitate, I just brace myself and start to piston my hips up and down the thick shaft violating my guts, like a good pet. I'm lightheaded and drooling but I keep on working, fully obedient. My legs shake and I'm drooling and my hole aches but I complete my five minutes, thighs trembling as I sink down again.
He has me blow him between meetings while I ride the big dildo. He either cums down my throat or paints my tits with it. Either way afterwards he makes me drink water until I can't take any more, then later makes me piss myself in the yard standing up so he can watch my swollen tummy shrink and my embarrassment grow and aok my legs, all so he can hose me off again.
Maybe he starts to condition me to where I can only piss when I'm being penetrated.
-
Sitting on a fat dildo bulging my tummy, collar around my neck, dildo gag shoved into my throat and strapped into place, wearing nothing but cute babydoll socks and ankle cuffs an the collar, ankle cuffs chaining me to the porch. He might even blindfold me, tell me to keep riding until he comes back, then puts in earplugs and leaves me alone. Just a wet, dripping, convulsing mess pumping myself up and down a massive horse cock, drooling, paws in mitts so I can't free myself, outside and on display as I obey my owner.
I keep fucking myself until my legs give out, even then till trying to hump it like a good puppy, tears and drool dripping down my face as I choke and gag and keep trying to ride my toy.
Him coming back to let me but only removing the gag so he can fuck my face and cum down my throat, really grinding into me, pressing my face in hard and making me gulp down every drop and wait patiently to be allowed to breathe again.
He could even mount me on a fuck machine on his porch. Keep me nice and hydrated so I squirt often and wet myself while he has two cocks pistoning into my obedient body, coming by intermittently to fuck my throat.
Getting roofied at a bar just to wake up blurry, drugged, my hands tied behind my back, blindfolded, a ring gag in my mouth and a huge vibrating plug in my ass. Stumbling naked and blind down back alleys, whining for help as my helpless cunt drips down my thighs. Desperately hoping not to be seen even as I wordlessly beg to be released. Hearing cameras flash as passersby spot me; unseen hands pinching and slapping me. Forced to my knees, hands spreading my holes as a cock is shoved down my throat. "Fuck her face harder, she gets so tight when she gags." Drool and tears on my face as I'm split from both ends; and the toy keeps buzz buzz buzzing as I'm filled and stretched and abused, right there on the street. No one helps and no one cares; I'm an easy set of rape holes, and I'll see the evidence online when I'm finally set free
Don’t look me in the eyes when you talk to me- stare at tits. Grope them, squeeze them, expose them.
Finger my cunt while I’m telling you about something that upset me or is important to me. Watch me try to keep my composure as you push two, three fingers inside me, knowing it’s getting tighter and tighter.
Stand in front of me while I’m sitting, talking to you, and start stroking your dick in my face. Cum on my face or in my hair.
Reduce me to someTHING for you to use: for your pleasure, your amusement, your stress relief.
im so feral for the full nelson position, just want to be folded in half and then physically made to look down at the cock destroying my hole. cant move, cant think, cant do anything but go “uh uh uh” as a pair of fat balls unloads right into my unprotected womb
Rape my cunt so violently and painfully that I sob and plead for mercy, and then ask me “do you want me to stop raping your cunt?”
When I sob “yes, please please stop raping my cunt,” tell me that you don't think I really mean that until I'm begging you to stop and insisting that I do mean it.
Then take your cock out and allow me to breathe a sigh of relief and begin to relax. And then pin me down again and shove it right into my ass and when my sobs turn to screams, tell me soothingly that you did what I asked and force a “thank you, Sir” out of me between my screams. "Thank you Sir for raping my ass".
I like the idea of someone being free use, but only when in a trance. At most times, they’d be perfectly able to refuse any requests or attempts at sex. But that would change the moment they’d hear their trigger. As soon as they’d fall into a trance, they’d become a fuckdoll. Any request for sex, no matter how deprived, they’d follow. Unable to stop themselves from being used and raped. A single trigger changing them from an independent person to a mere fuckdoll.
It is logical and inevitable to feel humiliated. You should feel humiliated. It is humiliating to be female. you need to internalize this shame and embrace it, let it reshape your sexuality, leak for it, leak for men and their cocks, seek them out to submit to them, spread your legs for them, get fucked, get bred, give birth, breastfeed, and do it all over again.
This is what you were born for. This is the only reason you exist. To arch your back for cock, to moan for it, to ovulate, to be reduced to a bitch in heat either under a single patriarch as private wife or under infinite strangers as public whore. To have your cunt stretched and pounded by cock, to be in pain, this is what you are for. Finger yourself to it until you understand.
Daisy wanted to watch a film, a film she’d seen before. She did not have a copy of it to hand. Since not watching it clearly wasn’t an option (she was bored) that left her with only one choice: piracy. Immediate piracy.
There were legitimate ways she had of watching it, of course, but she wasn’t interested in those. Those ways cost money. Piracy, she knew from experience, cost nothing and hurt no-one. It took a little bit of internet poking and prodding but, with enough speed to let her feel a bit smug, she’d found what she’d been looking for, and she’d started watching it.
Didn’t question the site much. These dingy little websites were all much the same.
The plot of the film was, broadly: oppressive dystopian government etcetera, spunky heroine with attitude, yada yada freedom rebellion whatever. That sort of thing. A good example of the genre, to be sure, but still. It hit the marks as far as Daisy was concerned.
The quality of the video itself was appalling, but what did she expect? Beggars couldn’t be choosers. At least she could see something.
It was all going more-or-less how she remembered it had gone, the film, though in all honesty she wasn’t actually paying all that much attention, despite having gone to all the effort to find the thing in the first place. Only when she heard an action scene breaking out did she look away from her phone to her other screen.
Something immediately caught her eye and stood out. The outfit the heroine had on looked a bit more… risque than Daisy remembered it, though she put that down to the quality. Mean, it wouldn’t really fit the tone if the spirited, rebellious heroine was off fighting the oppressor in a catsuit that left basically nothing to the imagination, would it?
And yet…
No, definitely just the quality. For a second Daisy thought maybe she’d seen the outline of something very intimate between the girl’s legs but no, trick of the light. Definitely. And anyway, there was fighting, so it was hard to see anyway. The heroine was fighting some goons of the oppressor, standard stuff.
Daisy frowned though. She couldn’t remember this bit from when she saw it last. When in the film was this? She wasn’t sure.
And she was about to check when the heroine took a hit. That definitely hadn’t happened in the cinema. Had it? She couldn’t remember. Maybe. It wasn’t impossible. She wasn’t invincible, after all. One of the goons caught her right in the gut, doubling her over. But that was fine. Fight scene, right? She’d shrug it off, take him out, keep going. Just kept the tension up. It was fine.
Only she didn’t shrug it off. She stayed doubled up and stumbled back, right into another goon who grabbed her arms and then another who plucked the bow right out of her hand. Disarmed, still winded, she was yanked up straight and held firmly in place. They had her.
Was Daisy remembering it wrong?
The goon who’d got her the first time stepped in gave her another stiff punch to the belly, drawing out a pained yelp and even making Daisy flinch. With that blow landed, the heroine looked too weak to break free of the grip the other man had on her arms. She was barely even struggling, Daisy saw. The girl was helpless.
They were laughing at her. Daisy could hear it. The goons were laughing at the heroine and then the one who’d hit her stepped forward and put his hand right between the girl’s legs. Daisy gasped. That couldn’t be right, no? That didn’t happen before. Did it?
Had to have done, or else why would it be happening now?
The heroine whimpered and squirmed, clenching her thighs together. Too late though. The guard was rubbing her through that flimsy, figure-hugging outfit she’d been wearing most of the film and the one behind her wasn’t letting her go anywhere. Daisy could already hear the heroine’s whimpering turning to panting.
“This is what you get,” one of the goons said.
It was weird. It just kept going. Daisy would have expected some editing or something, anything, but there wasn’t any. The shot kept in close, showing how uselessly the heroine was trying to escape, how utterly overpowered she was, and how easily the man was able to play with her. It didn’t cut away.
Daisy didn’t look away, either. In case she missed something. She couldn’t remember what happened next.
As hard as she might have tried, the heroine was definitely panting now, starting to sound needy. She’d even stopped squeezing her legs together quite as tight, her eyes fluttering as her mouth hung open. Totally helpless. Weak. Weaker than she’d thought she was.
Then another goon - the one who’d snatched her bow - moved in and pawed her tits through the costume. Daisy had kinda guessed she wasn’t wearing a bra under it. How could she? The way she reacted kinda made her feel sure she was right. Panting turned immediately to moans, and if the man behind hadn’t been holding her up the heroine probably would have fallen to her knees.
“That’s it,” said the goon holding her arms. “Good girl. Don’t fight it.”
Daisy was starting to remember now. This had been her favourite bit.
The goon groping her kept that up, bringing his other hand up to the heroine’s face, running a thumb over her pouting lips. The heroine, eyes closed now, dumbly followed his thumb, trying to take it into her mouth and eventually getting it when he stopped moving it out of the way. Sucking in it, Daisy heard the girl groan deeply, happily.
Daisy watched the girl suck on the man’s thumb for what felt like a very long time.
“I’m sorry,” the heroine said when he finally removed it. She sounded different to how she’d been earlier in the film. More breathless, obviously, but also softer too somehow. Higher-pitched. Tiniest hint of a lisp? She sounded pathetic. “I’m sorry I was bad.”
The man who’d been rubbing her cunt this whole time pulled out a knife. Daisy’s eyes widened.
“Let’s see how sorry you are,” he said, before slitting the heroine’s costume open right from just above her pussy all the way to her neck. The cut was perfect, and Daisy had been right - under it, the girl wasn’t wearing anything.
All change. The goons clearly didn’t need to restrain the heroine anymore and so stopped doing that. Without the support of her arms being held the girl immediately dropped to her knees, her ruined outfit falling open, her tits now on full display. The three goons moved around so they were in front of her. Three flies unzipped, and three semi-hard cocks sprung out in front of the heroine’s blushing face. She bit her lip.
So did Daisy. This was the bit where the heroine first sucked cock. One of the best bits.
Knowing she had to please all three without leaving any of them out, the girl got to work quickly. She used her hands on two, and worshipped one with her mouth, then swapped along. She was a natural, given it was (apparently) her first time. The guards kept laughing at her. Called her names. Dumb bitch. Stupid slut. Worthless whore. Cocksleeve. All kinds of names. They’d lodged in Daisy’s brain from when she’d seen it last, and just got easier to remember now. Made her twitch.
After a few minutes the heroine brought each goon to the edge and then, one after the next, used her mouth to get them over. They each came down her throat, grunting in satisfaction and draining their balls into her silly little tummy. After the third one was done the girl slumped back onto her haunches, a dumb smile on her dumb face. Daisy was smiling too, not that she really noticed.
She knew what was going to happen next, of course. She’d seen it before. The heroine was bundled up into the back of the big chunky vehicle the goons had arrived in and was driven back to wherever they’d come from - some big, scary, blocky building you couldn’t ever hope to escape from. The heroine might have been defeated, but she wasn’t broken. Not yet.
Taken to a cold, dark cell, the heroine was properly stripped out of her silly, ruined outfit and left naked - at least until they put a collar on her. By now, a little of the fight in her had started to come back. The heroine tried (uselessly) to pull the collar off, yelled, kicked the door (and hurt her foot) and, when the guards returned, tried to fight them, too.
Of course, she was tiny, weak, pathetic and naked, and the guards were big, strong, and armoured. She stood no chance. In next to no time she was restrained again, a baton held rigid across her throat, her hands clutching at it, her legs flailing.
“You’ll never win! You’ll never win! You’ll see! The people will - ah!”
The guard she’d been kicking at had caught one of her legs and pushed in between them, spreading them, and then she’d felt another of the batons tapped lightly against her bare cunt. She’d lost the threat.
“What was that?” The guard asked. He ran the length of the baton up and down her slit. She was wet already, and she coated it.
The heroine could feel - and Daisy could see - just how thick the baton was. Kind of reminded Daisy of an especially daunting fake-cock she’d seen in a video once, though that was probably just the poor video quality making her see things. It wouldn’t be an actual dildo. Would it? That big?
Whatever it was it was made for breaking wills, one way or another.
“I-I - I mean - you won’t - you can’t - oh…” the heroine babbled, trailing off as her eyes fluttered shut.
Now he was just letting the tip rest against her clit. He held her shaking leg up high, keeping her spread wide. If she tried to escape, she’d probably slide onto it. She was trembling all over.
“Can’t what?” The guard asked, and the heroines eyes opened again, a little bit.
“Can’t…do this…to…me…ah!”
The fake cock - baton, whatever - was sliding in, opening her up.
“We can do whatever we like to you.”
And they did. She was fucked with the baton first, obviously, going from pleading to babbling inside of just five minutes. Once it was clear her little spark of rebelliousness had been doused, some other guards entered. They took turns with her, fucking her one after another. She was cogent for the first one, if not especially clear. By the fifth she was basically incoherent. By that point they decided she’d had enough for the day.
Daisy had to wonder - as she’d wondered the first time she’d seen this film, at the cinema, with her friends - how long she herself could hold out before her mind broke and she ended up a drooling, docile fuckpet. That was the end for the heroine, Daisy knew, after all. She’d seen the whole film, she knew how it ended. What happened to the heroine.
But how about herself, Daisy thought. How long would it take for her? How long could she last? Or her friends, for that matter? Hypothetically. As a thought experiment. Just for fun. To imagine.
It was kind of hard to stop thinking about. Daisy was between boyfriends right now and it had been a while, but still. After getting fucked she was usually pretty fuzzy and giggly - just the way she was wired she supposed. The one time it had happened twice in a row (pretty good day) she’d barely been able to string two words together afterwards.
So, hypothetically, if she was the heroine? All tied up like that? Helpless?
No chance. No chance at all. She was too weak. Friends too.
Onscreen, the heroine was into her second (or maybe third or fourth, Daisy was finding it hard to keep track) day of captivity, obediently following a guard as he led her along on a leash. Daisy thought she’d make a good dumb pet herself, and it did look fun. So much less to worry about. The heroine was brought in front of some other captured rebels (all wide-eyed girls, much like the heroine, actually) where the guard got her to show off a few tricks.
Kneeling first, then begging.
“Please, please…I’ll be good…let me be good…” the heroine whined, tongue out, her bottom starting to wiggle happily and unconsciously when the guard took his cock out. Soon after that the heroine was giving a very enthusiastic demonstration of how good she was for all the other prisoners to see, and none of them could look away.
Daisy needed to show this to her friends. Definitely. They all had to see. They’d all loved it at the cinema, she remembered, so why not invite them all to see it again? Maybe one at a time, so they didn’t get distracted. Yes, that sounded like a good idea. One at a time.
She hadn’t noticed the one hand sneaking down between her legs or the other sneaking up under her top. Hadn’t noticed starting to pant a little bit. Hadn’t noticed much of anything at all other than how weak and pathetic and slutty the silly little girl in the film was, and how much weaker and pathetic she herself was. It was all Daisy could think about. Weak, pathetic, slutty and silly. That was her. That was her all over.
Must have been why she liked the film so much, why she’d wanted to watch it again. To remind herself. Why she had to show her friends, too. Remind them. Yes. That was it.
The film kept going. And going. Daisy kept watching. It followed the heroine through days and days of being broken down, and then followed her through being built back up again. Put back together better. Into a good, useful girl. A girl who didn’t have to think about doing what she was told, but who simply did it. A girl who smiled easily because she knew she had found her place and purpose in life. A girl who let her thoughts and feelings be changed by those who had control over her, because they knew best.
By that point Daisy had taken her clothes off. It had felt appropriate.
Legs spread wide, one hand wetly working away between her thighs while she bit her lip and groped her tits, Daisy watched with rapt attention as the climactic scene unfolded. The heroine, fully fixed now and so much happier, was brought out before a vast crowd as the centrepiece of a speech the Evil President had been giving. There she stood beaming in a lovely, pretty dress before, at her cue, moving over, bending over, and lifting the dress out of the way.
The heroine was fucked with everyone watching. Everyone. The whole crowd, and anyone on the other end of the cameras. She didn’t care, of course. She was delighted because they were happy with her, as a good girl should be, as Daisy understood. The Evil President gripped the heroine by the hips and with every thrust that slapped into her she spoke so all the crowd could hear her:
Over and over she repeated the words, and Daisy did it, too, until the Evil President came and the heroine was finally allowed to cum as well, on his cock. Daisy came as well, almost sliding out of her chair.
The film cut out shortly after that, but that was fine. Daisy was just staring into space, thinking of who to invite first. She had to show her friends, obviously. They’d remember like she remembered. So weak, so stupid, so pathetic, yes.
slowly deconstructing a victim's boundaries. having them beg for something they could have never imagined themselves asking for, but it's better than the alternative. ❤️
leave me alone -> don't touch me -> don't touch me there -> I'm not gonna undress for you, asshole -> I'm not taking my bra off -> I'm not taking my panties off -> I'll suck your dick but please leave me alone after -> you can't fuck me -> please don't fuck me -> please don't hurt me while you do it -> please wear a condom -> please don't cum in me -> please don't cum in me -> please don't cum in me -> please don't cum in me -> I'm serious, please pull out -> you can cum wherever you want, just not inside -> I'll even swallow it if you do it in my mouth -> you can fuck me as much as you want just don't cum in me -> please pull out -> please pull out -> please cum in my face -> please cum in my face
There's something so fun about manhandling. Ignoring your protests as I push you to your knees. Slapping your ass while I pin you facedown against the ground. Grabbing your arm and yanking you over my lap violently enough to make you yelp in suprise. Shoving you against a wall by the neck while you sputter and struggle for air. Firmly pulling your hair downward to bring your teary face to my crotch. Groping your thighs while I bend you over, just before I pull down my pants. I don't have to push you around of course. We both know you're pathetic enough to do whatever I want if I just ask. But I don't care. I love the power I have over you. The ability to be as rough with you as I want while I use you. To hurt you just because I can.
