This is a print version of story His Object by VaginaPirate from

His Object

Trees passed by the window. I watched them mix into a shade of green for many miles down the road. Soon they were bursting into brick, into building. Turning and changing. Kaki, red, and white. But my mind was not in this city. It hadn’t been for hours, and not for days. I lit a cigarette and watched the smoke escape from the cracked window. The smell lingered in the air and the taste coated my mouth. And for that moment my mind went counterclockwise. Almost like a silent movie, I watched it. My face and my breasts being pressed firmly against the wall. Feeling like I too may become part of the paint. But loving every fucking second of it. My pussy getting so damn wet when he snatched me by my hair and pressed my ass to the front of his jeans. He was the only man I would let touch me that way. And I thought I might be crazy, that a part of me wanted to feel so weak beneath him. That I wanted nothing more than to submit to him. He talked to me so gentle, yet he wanted nothing more than to hear me whimper and gasp every time his hands wrapped around my throat. And he leaned into my ear and whispered, “do you want me to leave a mark?” And I did, more than anything. I wanted him to leave his hand prints on my neck and on my chest. I wanted to lift my shirt and see that he was once there. That he had broken me and bruised me. That he had used my body for every filthy fucking thing he wanted. The radio suddenly became clear. The DJ was shouting about best hits and what was going to be played next and I noticed my cigarette had burned to the filter. I tossed it out the window and realized I had made it to a whole new town in a matter of minutes. The sun was starting to fade into the clouds. Snuggling into the horizon and bleeding orange and pinks into the sky. It was getting late and I needed a place to crash. I drove through some small town until I came upon an old motel. The sea green paint was chipping on the building, and the neon “Open” light was blinking like Vegas. This place looked too cliché, but I wasn’t about to get picky. Not when I had him in mind. And not when my thoughts were causing me to loose track of time. When I got the room key, I hadn’t realized why the woman at the front was staring at me inquisitively. I assumed she thought I was up to something. Not until I put the key in the door did it occur to me. Around my wrists were purple rings. They looked like bracelet’s. And I paused remembering how he tied them behind me with his belt. How he leaned me over the sink and shoved his cock right into my pussy. I remember he did it so quick that it caused me to bite my lip. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I fought them back. He was so thick that I thought my cunt would tear. But the thought of him ripping me only made me more wet. I could feel my liquid sliding down the front of my pussy and dripping to the floor. He pulled my hands back harder every time he slammed himself into my hole. His other hand was pinching my nipples. He pulled at them and twisted them. I saw them go from the light tan they normally were, to puffy, swollen, purple, and maroon. He slammed me into him one more time before his hand crashed into my face. All at once I felt the pain in my cheek. I pressed my lips together tight and he drew his face to my ear. His breath instantly cause my pussy to tighten. I heard him slightly gasp. He felt my insides squeezing and releasing him over and over. He brushed the hair away from my ear, “Your cunt is so fucking tight.” He jerked my hands to him causing my breasts to bounce. “Tell me you will do anything for my cock, that you only want this cock. I know you do, you’re too fucking easy.” He slapped my tits before pulling my head back to look him in the eyes. He ran his tongue over my lips, “fucking say it.” Just then I realized that I was in the bathroom. That I had put down my suitcase and I had walked all the way to the bathroom. I was standing, staring at the sink. This man had ruined me. I went from the bathroom to the bed where I looked up at the ceiling. I closed my eyes until dreaming took place. I heard him all to clear again. He sweetly looked me in the eyes, “get down on you knees, I want you worship my cock.” So I did. Sucking and licking myself from his dick. He slid his dick to into my mouth. All at once I felt it choking and gagging me, but I wanted to take more. Soon I was to his balls, and he was buried deep inside my throat. He stroked my hair and stared into my eyes. I felt his hands slap my face over and over. He snatched my hair into his hands and pressed my mouth harder to his balls. He was really choking me now. I felt like I couldn’t escape, that I was his little fuck toy, and I loved every moment of it. He was towering over me, owning me, using me. And I was there to take what he gave me. Tears rolled down my cheeks as he lifted my chin. His cock still remained in my mouth. “Are you ready to finish me, love?” He wiped the tear from beneath my right eye. Gazing at him, adoring him, worshiping him, I nodded. Saliva was running down the side of my mouth. His thick, smooth cock caused me salivate more than ever. I watched his eyes roll back as I moved my tongue around the head of his cock. Slowly he began pushing my head onto his cock. I could feel the tip of his dick sliding in and out of my throat. Watching him enjoy my mouth made me enjoy every second of what he was doing to me. I watched him bite his lower lip and gasp when he found his cock could move much further inside of me. I knew soon he was going to cum. Faster and faster he fucked my face. He would cram his dick into my throat so deep till I couldn’t breathe, only to yank it out to hear me gasp for breath. Over and over he did this till both of his hands were on the back on my head. All at once, he pressed himself deep into my throat. I felt his cock throbbing inside of me. Then, it happened. I opened my eyes to watch him open his mouth to let out the sweetest moan I’d ever heard. It was like a whisper but lower and in-between were tiny gasps and breathing. I sucked hard on his cock until I felt his cum gushing into my throat. He tasted warm and felt thick. I closed my eyes and ignored the taste. No matter what, I’d never be able to enjoy the taste of cum, but I’d swallow just for him, just because I was his now. His object. His thing. He was now branded in my brain. What he did to my body, I would crave for days and days. Over and over to be touched and pressed into. Hard. My eyes would miss the bruises and my body would miss the pain. He made me feel like I was something, even at the lowest of nothing. And for that, my brain would forever be tormented by him. I swallowed down his load before opening my eyes. He slid his cock out of my mouth before he picked me up by my neck. He turned me around so that my back was on his chest. His arms wrapped around me as he rested his head between my neck and shoulder. He kissed my cheek. I woke up from the dream. Still sitting on the motel bed. It was quiet except for the sound of traffic. The lights from outside shone into the bedroom causing me to think of ghost and shadows. A stillness settled into the room, so deep that it provoked loneliness. I looked at my body, worn and used, and I missed the man that owned me for that night. I lit a cigarette and stared at the floral patterned walls. “How long before a bruise will fade,” I thought. How far will I drive before they will?

Story URL: