English Slut for Turkish Businessmen #7: The End

Warning: Non-Consensual, Violence towards women, scenes of sexual nature, bad language, a whole lotta rape references, NSFW, BDSM, Rape, Forced Oral, – in short kids – some pretty bad shit. Here endeth Sophie’s time with the Turkish brothers – this will only make sense if you’ve read the past 6 chapters.

If you are under 18, bugger off. This is not suitable for you.


It was a Sunday afternoon and Sophie had been feeling better for about a week and was practically at full strength again. She’d felt well enough to take some walks on her own in the nature reserve near the restaurant. Mehmet had given her some money and sent her to the local spa to get a massage, hair and nails done, and spend some time relaxing. She felt infinitely better than she had done for a long time.
It was that arrogant time of year that could be spring or summer depending on it’s mood. Sparkling raindrops glittered through a bright sun or muggy thunderstorms plagued the air. The atmosphere most often chose to be uncomfortably humid; a languid kind of heat that settled on everything it touched. Sophie’s thin cotton tee shirts clung to her moist back, sticking to the faintest sheen of sweat. The sun hung oppressively low in a grey sky, clouds the colour of old bones floating lazily by. The sticky, humid and muggy heat without the bright release of sunshine cause a melancholia usually associated with harsh winter weather. It was as though the air itself vibrated with it’s own displacement; knowing it shouldn’t be dank and overcast and this hot at the same time. If she didn’t know better Sophie swore it was like a grumpy September in the Mediterranean, rather than Spring in rural Blighty.
She returned to the restaurant full of calmness and goodwill. She hadn’t had the dreams for over two weeks, her health was back, she was content with her lot. Her perky breasts had regained their charming plumpness and her face looked ripe rather than gaunt. She was also eating again, albeit like a little puppy from Mehmet’s hands, when he travelled up to her room to feed her from his fingers. She gratefully lapped up every morsel, feeling his care and food heal her from within. After she had eaten her fill, she always placed kisses on his wrist and back of his hand, nuzzling him slightly while he stroked the back of her neck with the other and whisperingly suggested she was a very good girl.

Sophie adored the careful, gentle attention and had almost forgotten her little outburst to his brother, Ahmed, a while ago.
Unfortunately for her, he hadn’t.


Sophie stood in her immaculate room, slowly undressing for an afternoon nap. Mehmet and Ahmed knocked on the door.

“Sophie, my darling, are you home?” She had come to view herself as their little sister, or daughter almost. So thoughtful and kind, she felt so safe around them. They were big, strong, brown and hairy men and would not think twice about killing anyone that hurt her vulnerable young self.

Ahmed entered her room and took a seat near the window, while Mehmet stood with his arms crossed in front of the door. Both men had a serious look on their face.

Ahmed said, “Sophie, as you know, Ramadan is finish now. Do you understand, my darling?”

She looked across obediently at both strong Turkish brothers watching her, awaiting her reaction.

“Erm, well I know that you can eat again, and drink if you do that, and…” her voice trailed off as she tried to find the right words to say she knew they could masturbate and have sex again.

Sophie suddenly realised that the atmosphere in the room had changed. The mellowed orange light floating through the window had been blocked by a darker, post 5pm cloud, and in the absence of light the angles of the room felt sharper somehow. She sunk onto the end of the bed and looked from left to right. She’d never quite noticed before how cold their brown skin could look in certain light, how dark the eyes. Neither brother had shaved that day and the rough stubble accentuated their strong jaws. Sophie realised no one in the room was smiling.

Ahmed said, “You have tested our patience. You have tested our faith. Most of all, you tested our loyalty as brothers.” Sophie’s mouth opened in a wide O in protest, but she was cut off.

“We argued over how to treat you – how to deal with you. It’s clear to me now that you have been making a fool of us with your Western, infidel ways. We have been far too gracious with your kind…we forgot what you are. A temptation. Shaytaan…a devil.”

Mehmet was smirking softly in the corner, huge biceps folded over one another. His brother certainly seemed the saintly one – until his faith and loyalty to the family was questioned.

Standing slowly from his chair, Ahmed looked Sophie straight in the eye and said with a quiet fury she could hardly believe was his voice –
“You’ve tempted us into evil ways and now you must be punished. You are a vile, disgusting whore and you have been begging to be treated as such.”

Ahmed crossed the room to Sophie, sat on the edge of the bed, too scared to speak. She was wearing a white, strappy vest top that neatly contained her supple breasts with no bra and pale pink gym shorts. Her dark curly hair was loose and messy and she was barefoot. She tilted her head up to him, as he drew his right arm back and delivered a swift backhand to her cheek. Designed to shock rather than wound, the impact had the desired effect. Sophie flew off the bed and clutched her cheek on the floor, tears springing to her eyes.

“You fucking whore, you liked that didn’t you?” Ahmed snarled at her, in two strides he was next to her. He grabbed her by the back of her hair and forced her head up to look at Mehmet in the eye.

Sophie trembled and tried to speak;
“Please..no…I’m so sorry…I am a stupid girl I don’t know what I was thinking…please, please don’t do this…please” She begged and whimpered like a simple peasant girl being caught by a Prince for stealing. Every bit as desperate, every bit as futile.

Mehmet leaned down with an evil, treacherous leer on his face. He reached out with a huge, brown hand and mimicked gently stroking her cheek.

“Silly little white girl. You thought we cared for you? You thought I cared for you?” He leaned down to whisper the last part, “You are a worthless, slutty, white cunt. You are just a breathing sex doll with 3 warm pink holes for our pleasure. The only reason you still breathe is because I allow it. Now kiss my hand…kiss the fist that is going to beat you every day for the rest of your pathetic, needy life.”
Sophie could see she had to obey. She tried to lean forwards and pushed her wet pink lips against his knuckles, just as Ahmed pulled her skull back with her hair hard, and then smashed her face into his brother’s fist. She felt dizzy for a moment until Ahmed pulled her to her feet by her hair.

Sophie was gasping and seeing stars, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t hear anything and her heart was pounding in her ears. Despite the heat of the room, her nipples were rock hard and the adrenaline coursing through her body was making her fight or flight reflex kick in. She was terrified but shocked at the same time – she had never expected this to happen. Sophie decided to do something she had never done; she fought.
Kicking back against Ahmed, she grabbed his wrist with both of her delicate white hands, trying desperately to loosen his grip on her.

“Stop it…stop it please….I’m so sorry..please you’re hurting me,” She could taste blood in her mouth from where Ahmed had forced her to headbutt his brother’s fist.
Both brothers laughed. Mehmet took firm hold of the front of her vest top and ripped it open down the middle, forcing her tight little tits to spring free. He gripped both breasts firmly and growled, “These belong to us now, bitch”

Sophie was still dangling like a toy from Ahmed’s strong grip on her hair. She was beginning to feel dizzy with the pain. Ahmed turned her round and threw her face down on to the bed. She screamed and tried to escape, scrabbling madly towards the door.
Both brothers grabbed her firmly and Ahmed wrenched the last of the vest off her tight little body. She writhed around on the bed, perfect peach of an ass flailing around while each man held a grip on her wrists and legs. She was topless and wearing nothing but tiny, clingy little pink shorts with no underwear. She desperately hoped they couldn’t tell how wet she was – she knew that she had a tendency to gush and she didn’t want to be staining the shorts she had on.

Ahmed flipped her over so that each brother was holding a wrist and a calf each, thoroughly pinning her to the bed. Both of these big, Arabic men were still fully dressed and sweating quite a bit from the effort. Sophie could smell their dark, musky scent of sweat, tobacco and aftershave. Ahmed gripped both of her wrists above her head with one hand and removed his thick, black leather belt with the other. He whispered in her ear,

“I knew when you walked in you were a slut. We filmed you getting spanked that first night, and we filmed you sucking my brother’s cock in the basement. All of our friends have seen it, here and abroad. We’ve auctioned you off already – everything that is happening to you has been paid for and planned by Muslim men you’ve never met and never will meet, you fucking slut. This is all you are good for – from now on, you will live, breathe, sleep, piss and eat in this room. This room is your prison cell. We will have a constant 24/7 video stream in here and Turkish and Arabic men from around the world will send us requests, and cash when we show them. Some of them want to see you fucked by 20 men in a row, some want to see your mouth permanently attached to a gloryhole for cocks. Some of them have offered very good money to see you fucked by dogs. They’ve been watching you for the past 2 months since you’ve been staying here and they want to see this pretty little vulnerable English girl get fucking destroyed in front of their eyes, at their request, for money. You stupid, worthless whore. Your pussy, ass and mouth all belong to me now. You are my property. I will rent you out to whoever I see fit and in the meantime, you will be tight little English slut. You will cook, clean and worship me. You will beg for the privilege of sucking my cock and if you are lucky I will let you. You should be thanking me for tonight – it is the last time you will be fucked on a bed and allowed to cum for a very, very long time, bitch”

Sophie started screaming for help – she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. But at the same time, tiny pink clit had started throbbing and was pulsing against her hood. Her labia lips were swollen and moist, sticky with her own disgusting juices at the thought of being a 24 hour slave to Ahmed. Her nipples were like bullets and her face was flushed red – she couldn’t speak as her older Turkish boss spat degrading and humiliating instructions to her.
While Ahmed was distracting Sophie with the truth, Mehmet had been busy tying her wrists to the iron bedframe. She was thoroughly trussed up, topless, tiny pink gym shorts straining against her hipbones, hair wild with Ahmed gripping both of her legs down.
Mehmet reached down and pulled her shorts up tightly over her vagina, causing her to cry out in pain.
“OWWWWWWWWW STOP IT WHAT ARE YOU DOING” Sophie screamed with the sudden pain of having her clitoris sawn in two by the material. Both sides of her vagina were exposed as the shorts were pulled practically up to her tits, now bouncing around pathetically as she tried to writhe free of her constraints.
Mehmet grinned, “You are our toy. You’ll enjoy it. You’ll fucking thank me, you disgusting white whore.” He leaned down and spat a large glob of disgusting white saliva on her cheek, watching it slide down. Sophie started crying for real – big sobs. Mehmet pulled the shorts up even harder so that Ahmed could have a closer view of this tight young slave pussy.
Ahmed groaned, “Ohhh look at that fucking cunt. So pink and tight. Brother get me the whip. I want to ruin this good. I don’t want her to be able to piss without it stinging. Fucking get the whip”
Mehmet let go of Sophie’s shorts, providing her with a brief reprieve. Her clit was absolute throbbing and her ass crack felt sore as well. She whimpered and sobbed and tried to plead,
“Please..please I hate this. Please stop this is not what I want…I am a good girl…you said yourself that I am a good girl, please don’t – ”
Mehmet brought the thick tab end of the short black riding crop down on her pussy, over the top of her shorts. Sophie shrieked out immediately. She had never felt anything like it. Her pussy felt like it was on fire, but she was also the wettest she had ever been.

“NOOOOO PLEASE WHAT ARE YOU DOING PLEASE STOP IT HURTS” She begged whimpering, her face bright red from where she’d been beaten earlier, tears streaming down her face and onto her tits.
Ahmed said, “Isn’t this what you wanted? You told me this was what you wanted, little girl.”
Sophie cried, “No I take it back, I don’t want this, I’m sorry please don’t”.
“Ok. Let’s see something. If I remove these shorts, and your pussy is dry, we will stop, we will release you, and you can leave. If I remove these shorts, and your pussy allows me to enter just one finger easily, you accept you were born to be our sex slave and you will obey everything we tell you to do. You accept that you are our dog – a subservient sex slave to be humiliated and degraded to amuse and entertain your betters. If your pussy is wet Sophie you accept that you are a pathetic, slutty, worthless white whore who is desperate to be owned by a strong Muslim man and kept as his sex slave for the rest of your life. And remember – you are being filmed. There are over 100 Arabic men around the world right now, watching your humiliation as it happens.”
Sophie looked at Ahmed with large, frightened eyes. She was absolutely fucking dripping and she knew it.
“No” she whispered. Ahmed was angry. He wouldn’t be made a fool of. In a rage, he ripped her shorts of in one movement and spread her legs. He carefully opened up her pussy, spreading one lip open, then the other. He said,
“Mehmet, she is embarrassed. Be a gentleman. Give her something to focus on.”
Mehmet grinned and stepped off the bed, and quickly undressed. Stood only in his boxers, Sophie could see how wide and strong his brown hairy chest was. His massive cock was oozing pre-cum and straining against his white underwear. He removed his boxers and got on top of Sophie, his knees either side of her face. He rested his big, brown, sweaty Arab balls on her chin, and the length of his cock across her face. She could smell his arsehole, inches from her mouth.

Mehmet said,
“Don’t you feel humiliated, my brother inspecting your worthless white pussy, trying to decide if it’s worth sticking his cock in or not? While I rest my sweaty balls on your face like your a piece of fucking furniture? Lick my fucking balls you worthless piece of shit before I decide to throw you out myself” Mehmet started rubbing his sweaty prick all over her face. Sophie opened her mouth obediently to let one wrinkly, hairy Turkish ball rest on her pink tongue. She felt Ahmed sliding a finger up her wet slit, and heard him say,

“This fucking bitch is the wettest I have ever known. Her cunt is a slimy, gloopy disgusting mess. I wouldn’t put my cock in there if you paid me. You could get a fist up there. Is this turning you on, you worthless bitch? You fucking whore? Are you enjoying being treated like a degraded sex slave? Do you like letting my brother rape your mouth whenever he wants to, you disgusting, common bitch?”

While Ahmed said this to her he had gently pulled the hood of her clit back and was softly manipulating her special little button inbetween his strong finger and thumb. Sophie was so wet she might as well have had oil poured all over her pussy. With her mouth gagged on hairy Turkish balls and the smell of Mehmet’s arsehole in her mouth, Sophie’s eyes rolled back in her head listening to Ahmed humiliate her on camera for all his Arab friends.
Ahmed continued to play with her clit, while stroking the crack inbetween her pussy and her arsehole with his thumb. Mehmet took his balls out of her mouth with a plop and replaced them with the tip of his thick brown rod.
“Yeah…hmmmhnnmmm…fucking white slut….fucking English whore suck my Turkish cock..fucking worship it” Mehmet groaned and gripped the back of Sophie’s head with one hand, while guiding the thick bulbous end of his prick into her mouth with the other. He played with her mouth, not even looking down at her as he fucked her skull with the tip of his cock, enjoying the sensation of warm wet mouth just circling the end of his penis. Without warning, he shoved the entire length down to the back of her throat, just as Ahmed plunged two fingers into Sophie’s cunt.
Her eyes flew open with surprise and she tried to scream in shock, but her throat was stuffed with Mehmet’s brown sweaty prick, pumping up and down in her throat like it was a fleshlight.
“Oh come on, suck it you bitch, fucking suck, give me your mouth, yes bitch give me your fucking mouth” Mehmet was pumping up and down now, gripping both sides of Sophie’s head strongly and fucking her young mouth like she wasn’t even attached to it. He pulled out and slapped his thick meat against her cheek, hard enough to bruise. He slapped her round the other side of the face with his hand, enjoying the tears in her eyes and her shock.
“You fucking slut you like being humiliated don’t you? Don’t you?” Mehmet put his cock back in her mouth again, and fucked her throat harder and harder, casuing her to gag and chock on his cock. Her body started convulsing wildly as she tried to breathe. Mehmet reached round with one hand and plucked at her tender nipples, squeezing and twisting them. With the other hand he removed the belt that had attached her wrists to the frame.
Sophie was still dazed, her head was throbbing and her pussy barely registered the violation of Ahmed’s fingers opening her tight canal up, ready for his cock. Ahmed grabbed her and quickly flipped her over, like she was a rag doll. He grabbed her hips and pulled her down the bed. Mehmet positioned himself in front of her and lifted her head up by her hair. He smacked her around the face again, making her dizzy, unable to focus on what was happening. He enjoyed hitting her. It turned him to know he was so much stronger than this vulnerable English girl underneath him; he could do whatever he wanted with her tight little body and she was helpless to resist. It made his cock painfully hard knowing he’d turned her into a needy little cumslut that got off on it even more than he did.
“What..what’s happening” Sophie said. She felt numb – her clit was on fire and she couldn’t breathe.
Ahmed lifted her tiny, pale hips up and spread her legs apart. Lubing his cock up with her juices, he lined it up to her tight pussy opening. Pushing the head against her pussy, he gripped her hips firmly. Just as she realised what was happening Mehmet had his prick in her mouth again, this time really humiliating her by spitting on her face while she tried her best to breathe through the pain. Mehmet reached down and pinched her nostrils just as he forced his prick as far down her delicate pale throat as it could possibly go. Sophie’s eyes bulged and she tried to grip his strong brown, hairy thighs with her hands, but it was like a fly trying to swat a lion, he didn’t even notice. As Mehmet forced his rock hard brown cock down her mouth, Ahmed rammed his prick into her tight, throbbing, vulnerable pussy. At 9 inches, Ahmed had a solid, thick, meaty prick. Sophie had never, ever had anything as big in her tight little twat before. She screamed into the prick in her mouth as Ahmed impaled her vulnerable pussy with his massive cock and both brothers started see-sawing with her tight little body, using her like a fucktoy for their own pleasure.
They knew the investors in Jordan, Syria, Lebanon and Iraq would be watching them break in this latest white slave, and they liked to demonstrate how skilled they were at hurting sluts like this.
Sophies eyes rolled back into her head as she struggled to breathe, her helpless limp body being used like a ragdoll by these two strong, Arab men. She knew she was being completely humiliated and degraded on camera, she knew she was going to cum like a bitch in heat, and she knew this was the wettest her pussy had ever been.
Ahmed felt her pussy walls spasming and convulsing around his cock, ready to milk him dry. He nodded at Mehmet. Mehmet started hammering her throat even harder, and rubbed his spit into her eyes and mouth. She looked a mess. He reached down and twisted each nipple sharply, muttering nasty things to her about what a needy little whore she was and how hard she was going to get it, from everyone. She would be an expert Turkish cock-sucker by the time they finished with her – men from all over would pay them to use their pretty little English whore’s mouth. And when her pussy was all tired out and ruined, they would sell her to somewhere in the Middle East and she would give out blowjobs for the equivalent of £1 a go or she would starve.
As Mehmet whispered these nasty promises to her Sophie felt her climax building and building. Ahmed was shoving his impressive, thick 9 inches into her tight little cunt and she was going to cum. She started panting and moaning on Mehmet’s cock and her eyes closed – she was getting closer and closer….the inside of her thighs were shaking…her pussy was dripping juices all over Ahmed’s balls and her G-Spot couldn’t take any more…she squeezed her pussy together and felt a shuddering climax rock through her entire pussy. Vibrations spread up and down her legs and she tingled and screamed out. Just as she came, Mehmet let loose his thick Turkish seed into her abused and raw throat, and Ahmed pumped ropes of cum deep into her womb, filling her up until she felt like she would burst. She swallowed Mehmet’s buckets of cum down her throat and felt Ahmed’s semen swim around her tummy, her own juices fairly leaking out of her.

Both brothers pulled out of her and she collapsed onto her side, shaking, dazed, covered in cum, sweat and spit. No longer caring about her nakedness, she rolled on to her back. Her pale legs flopped open, completely lacking in energy. Semen flowed out of her pussy and onto the bed. She lay with her head to one side, Mehmet’s cum mainly in her tummy, along with his brother’s, but a streak was across her left cheek. As if on auto-pilot, Sophie reached up with one hand, and scooped the remaining drops of Mehmet’s cum into her mouth. With the other hand, she wiped up her pussy and did the same with Ahmed’s. Sucking both Turkish brothers’ semen off both hands like a dreamily contented little girl, Sophie didn’t even have thoughts anymore.

She felt completely satisfied.

The thing of it is


When I was 12 years old, my Mother asked me to run upstairs and check that I hadn’t left a t-shirt that we needed for our trip under my bed. I ran to my room and lay down on my belly with the left side of my face pressing against the carpet so that I could see better. Lying on my stomach with my face pressed into the carpet made me experience a feeling down there that I never had previously. I felt inexplicably excited but also scared and confused. That wasn’t the first time I masturbated, but it was the first time I’d become excited from lying on the floor.

I’m now 26, and the past 14 years of my life have been littered with similar instances. Mine wasn’t so much a sexual awakening as a celibate coma – sex meant something so different to me that it seemed impossible I would ever find anyone that could provide me with everything I craved and a ‘normal’ relationship on top of that.

I’ve decided to start this blog to slowly chronicle all of the sexual experiences I’ve had in the hope that writing them down will help to get them off my mind. There is no specific order, I might re-visit the same guy more than once, and I might sometimes just verbalise my sexual fantasies.

I’m currently masturbating at least 3 times a day and I feel like a bitch in heat whenever I am surrounded by men. I know I am eye-fucking every half decent man I speak to, and I know that my behaviour is getting out of control. Hopefully if I share some of my thoughts it will at least keep them in a box so I can try to concentrate on my day job.

So that’s the thing of it; I’m a 26 year old british girl obsessed with degrading and humiliating pornography and a staggeringly high libido. I am definitely 90% submissive towards men, at least 60% dominant towards women, and honestly on the spectrum of sexuality so wide I couldn’t identify as straight or gay if I tried. Things that I know for certain;

  • I can’t respect a guy who is weak as shit in the bedroom or the boardroom
  • Normal sex doesn’t get me off
  • Sometimes I like thinking about banging girls
  • Sometimes I like thinking about girls getting banged
  • Being passed around like a cheap slut for the benefit of older and stronger men makes my clit clench and unclench like the san andreas fault
  • It would be very awkward if everyone who has had to listen to me talk about Feminism knew about this

I hope to add to this list as time goes on.

By the way, I’ve tried to keep my identity a secret. If for some magical reason you’re reading this and you’re pretty sure you know who I am – don’t be a dick. I’m going through some stuff and trying to work it out best I can, so please don’t tell anyone or for that matter mention it to me.

Fuck You

You godmanned child. I can’t believe that I was fool enough to fall for your bullshit. Do you know what? Part of me congratulates you. Well done. Fairplay. You got me, and you got me good. You told me that you’d never met anyone like me, you told me that you felt a connection, that you were a man of your word. You told me a man only has two things in this life – his word and his balls, and that you don’t compromise either.

But most of all you bastard, you made me feel safe. For a long fucking time I felt safe. I felt like there might just be someone else in this universe who was prepared to shoulder this burden of living with me. You listened, you supported, you cared, you challenged and you complimented.

And I realise that it isn’t fashionable to ‘feel things’. I realise that the only acceptable thing to do in this day and age is to pretend like you are immune to catching to feelings. Well you do know what you can do? You can piss right off. I do feel things. Of COURSE I feel things. I felt something when I applied for my job, and got it. I felt something when I asked to rent the beautiful country cottage I am in, and had to pay an application fee to see if I could get it. I felt optimistic, hopeful, courageous. I felt something when I moved into that very same cottage on my own, living alone at the age of 26 for the very first time in my godamn life. I had to get used to saying goodnight to myself, I had to get used to the fact that I lived alone. I had to buy food for one, heat the house for one, wash my bedding knowing only I was going to enjoy it’s lemony freshness. I had to get used to the fact that when I woke up in the morning there was no one there to cuddle me and help me get up to face the day, I had to get my own ass out of bed and go into work to carry on making money to support myself, the best way I knew how. So yeah, I feel things. Surprise fucking surprise, I feel things.

And so when we started speaking, and you FaceTimed me for three hours every day for over a month, and we spoke about fear of death, loneliness, anxiety, how we were scared we would never find love, I started to feel things. Of course I fucking did. I am a godamn human being and got forbid I feel something.

For some reason you have now lost interest. I don’t know why. I suspect it is because I sent you an excerpt from this blog (that you don’t have access to, so I am not quite sure why I am writing this). But it scared you. After saying everything you did about being cool with the fact I like kinky fucking shit but still wanna be cuddled afterwards, after talking all that hype about accepting me and always wanting me to be in your life, you fucking withdrew from me and left me out in the cold.

Well I am here to say fuck you, motherfucker. You self-indulgent, insecure, child. Fuck you. I have been left out in the cold before and do you know what? I turned that shit to fire. You will need to get out of bed earlier in the morning to make me cry. I am disappointed that you are not who you said you were, but I can sleep easy in my bed (the bed I paid for, took apart, carried up the narrow stairs, put back together, painted, put the mattress on and have made every single godamn day since I’ve lived here) knowing that I’ve got balls and my word.

You said all a man has is his balls and his word. Well, you’ve got neither pal. And I have them both in spades. So Fuck You, and the horse you rode in on.

Sincerely, a motherfucking adult woman who has her shit together and won’t remember your name in two weeks.

It’s Morning

Sleepily encased in his strong, brown arms. Nuzzling back against his warm, lion-like body. Feeling completely safe and secure in the early dawn light, knowing I don’t have to make any decisions today. Just please him, just follow his instructions, just curve my body to his will, just sway my hips into his, just press my lips against any part of him he instructs me to. Complete calm, total bliss, absolute clarity. Simplicity magnified with meaning. I have a purpose.

Pushing my ass into his crotch, the heat between flesh on flesh warming me through as I grind against his perfection. The familiar flicker between my lips, the tingle in my clit and the liquid pooling of heat in my lower abdomen. I am ready. Day hasn’t broken yet, the birds are still singing and I am wearing an old grey oversized tee shirt and my knickers, he is naked. His erection pressing into my lower back has woken me up. I can smell his breath, his sweat, his body. We are conjoined underneath the duvet, wrapped up in one another, bodies pressed against each one, not thinking about anything past the next couple of hours. I feel his breath on my neck and know I want him to enter me. My pussy is dripping wet and my thighs are agitated, desperate to part for him. His fingers find my mouth and I clamp down like a puppy testing her boundaries. His thick brown fingers on my tongue, me licking and lapping and grinding and whimpering against his big hard dick. I want it. And I want it now.

He growls; a low, guttural, unintentional noise. Manoeuvres me onto my tummy with his big hands. I moan willingly and remove my clothes. I am lying in my knickers on my tummy, feelin his heavy, hot weight preparing himself behind me. He is going to take me. His dick is hard, he wants to fuck, and I have a willing hole for him. My face pressed into the pillow, me panting hard, waiting, feeling the cold air hit the back of my thighs. I swallow nervously. I’m wet and I’m horny, but I know how big he is. I’m scared.

He is panting behind me, positioning himself. I feel his weight on my ass and my thighs, my legs being spread. God I want him so much; I can smell him. I moan into the pillow, my left hand reaching up to grab my hair and cover my face so he can’t see how slutty I’m feeling. I was going to make him wait, going to try and at least be respectable. But it’s morning and I’m horny as fuck and I’ve been furiously manipulating my clit ever since I met him. I’ve dreamt about him taking me roughly, pushing my head into the mattress and fucking me without mercy. I’m ready.

He spreads my legs almost tenderly, slowly, deliberately. Lining his rock hard dick up to my pussy, he gently lifts my hips and places a pillow underneath them. Easier for him to enter my hole. I brace myself, hands squeezing the headboard above me. He runs his hands up and down my body, feeling the side of my breasts and my hips. I know it’s imminent.

I feel his rough, coarse hands gently part my ass cheeks. I feel the thick mushroom head of his erect brown cock press against my hole, testing the resistance. He presses harder; pops the head of his dick into my pussy. I cry out. It’s invasive – hardness inside my soft wetness. I’m so juicy he slides the rest of his dick in easily. I gasp out with how big he is, it feels like he is stretching my pussy. He leans forwards and kisses my cheek, before thrusting all of it in. When I cry out he spits in my mouth. He’s growling now, he is gripping my hair with one hand, the other hand on my lower back, controlling the body that he is fucking. He drives his cock hard into my pussy, I’m quivering and whimpering, he is ripping me open. I love it. I start bucking my his back against him, his strong arms holding my hair and gripping my hips as he gets into a rhythm of fucking me from behind. I lie there submissively, enjoying him using my dripping white pussy from behind, taking his pleasure from my wet slutty hole.

He fucks me harder and harder, it’s starting to hurt. He is too big for me, I can’t cope but I can’t bring myself to ask him to stop. It’s the best fucking I’ve had in years. I rock my ass back against him, trying to accommodate his massive cock. I’m gasping into his hands as he whispers for me to be a good girl and lie still. He’s fucking me methodically, deeply and deliberately. This is my punishment for teasing him, an alpha male, a lion. I should have known better. Of course he was going to take me roughly, teach me a lesson with his massive cock. I would be humble after this fucking.

He is building up pace, spitting on my face and muttering nasty words that I’m his fucking whore, making me drip over his beautiful cock even more. I’m screaming into the pillow as he slams it home again and again, his hands ripping my hair out and slapping my ass even harder. I can’t control myself; I’m going to cum. My pussy tingles and vibrates around his hard cock, I start moaning his name and gripping his cock like a vice in my tight wet hole, I’m cumming and I can’t stop dripping all over him. He rams his cock even harder and then I feel him spurt pearly white ropes of cum into my willing white pussy, filling me up to my stomach with his seed. I can feel his cum spilling out of my used pussy as he pulls out with a thick wet slop, his cock still semi-erect. He rolls me over unceremoniously and places the thick, bulbous head at my lips. Commands me to lick him clean. I do so, gratefully. I am so spent, all I want is his amazing dick and balls in my face, rubbing against my lips, in my mouth. I lovingly lick his dick clean and make eye contact while he spits on my face. I make sure he is clean and flaccid, before nuzzling up to him next to me.

My beautiful lion has cum, and I have helped him feel content and calm. I nuzzle in to him, feeling satisfied and useful. I can’t wait to make him cum again in a couple of hours.


“Undress me”

M/f, domination, blowjob, interracial, romantic,

Any minors kindly piss right off.


Ahmed looked at her evenly with his warm chocolate brown eyes. His smooth caramel skin stretched tight over his chiselled jaw and strong cheekbones, cleanly shaven in a way that Western men weren’t anymore. He sat calmly in the leather armchair, arms resting majestically on either side. He was wearing a black wasitcoat with gold buttons over a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned slightly, showing tight curly black chest hair. His black blazer and perfectly ironed suit trousers completed the look, right down to his shiny leather Italian shoes.

Sophie felt her heart skip a beat. As much as she’d fantasised about this, she wasn’t sure she was ready. She licked her lips nervously and stared into his eyes. Was she really about to do this?

He had a knowing smile playing on his lips, supremely confident in his actions. It was obvious that she wanted him, and he was secretly delighted to have her upstairs and at his command at last. She was standing in front of him awkwardly, arms hanging at her sides, heart pounding and with sweaty palms. He repeated his command;

“Undress me” he said, looking deeply into her eyes, with an arrogant slight uptilt of his chin.

Sophie leaned forwards with trembling fingers, her black curls falling in front of her face.

“No,” he said, “kneel and do it properly.” Sophie looked at him in surprise – this was beyond her wildest fantasies. She was finally alone with the man she had fallen in love with, and he was asking her, no commanding her, to undress him.

She felt dizzy with the surrealness of her situation. Kneeling down in between his splayed legs, she was incredibly aware of how close her head was to his crotch. She cleared her throat and reached up with two hands. Never losing eye contact, she started to unbutton his waistcoat. He felt so warm beneath her hands, his burnt sienna skin radiating masculine heat. Sophie could smell him, a mix of aftershave, sweat, tobacco and something vaguely sweet. It was a heady combination and she felt even more light-headed.

When her shaking fingers had dealt with the final button, Ahmed leaned forwards and removed his blazer. He sat back in is white shirt with the waistcoat fully open. Sophie could see the outline of his hard body underneath his shirt, and suddenly became aware of how thick his thighs felt, looming either side of her. He reached out with his left hand and gently caressed her cheek, stroking a stray tendril back behind her ears.

“Carry on,” he whispered.

Sophie knelt up and reached to remove his waistcoat over his shoulders. This action alone brought her face intolerably close to his. He was still smiling that quiet, almost playful smile. She looked down nervously and disposed of the waistcoat next to the chair.

She looked up at his perfect brown skin against the crisp white shirt. 8 buttons stood between her and the sight she had been longing to see for months. Sophie almost felt like she was in a trance, tracing the outline of the buttons with her delicate white fingertips before plucking them free. Each button revealed an extra inch of perfect coffee coloured skin covered in tight, curly black hairs. She allowed herself a brief brush over his hairy chest – they felt wiry and warm. She could smell his aftershave and his own natural scent even more now. Christ, he was manly. Big, thick chest with broad shoulders and a solid hairy chest. He was smiling her like he knew what she was thinking.

Final button. Sophie spread his shirt open, fully revealing him. Ahmed obliged her by sitting up straight and taking his shirt off properly, before leaning back in his chair. Not quite knowing what to do after that, Sophie turned her attention to his feet. She quickly dealt with the laces on both shoes, slipping each one off his feet, before removing his socks. They looked more expensive than her entire outfit. He was certainly dressed like an Arabic gentleman; money no issue.

Breathing deeply, she looked towards the thick, designer black leather belt and the solid silver belt buckle. Unfolding the imposing leather snake from it’s buckle, she threaded it out and gratefully removed it as he lifted his hips slightly to grant her access. Sophie leaned back, holding his black leather belt in her hands. It was warm, and felt expensive and heavy. Ahmed clearly sensed her trepidation, and took the belt from her, placing it calmly by his side.

“Nearly there,” he said, still looking into her eyes, seemingly wryly amused.

Sophie took a deep breath and reached for the zipper on his trousers. She could see the bulge underneath and felt the back of her soft hand graze it as she dealt with his trouser fastenings. Once she had undone them, he again lifted his hips up so she could pull the garment down to reveal thick, brown hairy thighs. She swallowed deeply and pulled them down to his ankles, before removing them completely.

She couldn’t believe how confidently he was sat there, in perfect tight white boxers and nothing else. Sophie could see his impressive cock bulging against his underwear. It was fully erect, and looked hard as steel. His erection stood proud at a full 9 inches and had an intimidating girth. There was a small droplet of pre-cum staining his boxers and Sophie could smell the salty, sweaty musk of his balls. She looked at him nervously, unsure as to what to do next.

“I told you to undress me. I am still dressed.” Ahmed whispered softly in his thick Turkish accent, the gentleness belying the raging lust he was feeling. He couldn’t wait to make her taste him, make her take his cock in her willing, pink plump lips, massaging the tip of his bulbous member with love and affection. He imagined her lovingly lapping at his prick with all the enthusiasm of a puppy greeting it’s Master.

Sophie hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, trying to ignore how searing hot his hips felt against her skin. She tugged them down, his massive cock struggling to escape from the confining material. Once they were at his thighs, she avoided looking up at all, and just pulled the boxers down to his ankles and removing them entirely. Sophie continued staring at the floor, her face crimson red, her breathing coming fast and short. Kneeling in front of this completely naked man she’d fantasised about while playing with her clit and bringing herself to orgasm so many times was overwhelming. His cock was a beautiful, circumcised penis, evenly coloured and completely straight. His balls were huge and swung heavily in between his legs. The skin near his asshole and scrotum was dark brown and she could smell the sweat on it, a dark, musky smell that made her treacherous mouth water.

Ahmed looked at her softly and said,

“What do you want to do, Sophie? Do what feels natural my darling,” he smiled.

She took a deep breath and leaned forwards to nuzzle her face, lips, mouth, cheeks, nose, everything against his cock and balls. She pushed her full face into his crotch, choking herself with the smell and almost tasting him as she inhaled deeply. Sophie moaned as she rubbed her cheeks against his balls, loving how hot they felt against her skin. She rubbed his cock against her lips and nose, sliding it across her face like it would kill her if she ever stopped.

She looked up at him with big blue eyes and whispered in awe,

“I love your cock. Please, please can I have it in my mouth? Please, I need it so much,” She begged imploringly. He didn’t have the heart to deny her.

“Ok my darling. You can have a little taste. Open your mouth for me,” Ahmed held his cock and guided the tip into her waiting open mouth, pouting lips forming a little O waiting for him. Sophie maintained eye contact as Ahmed slid the tip of his huge cock into her wet mouth. Sophie moaned and her eyelids fluttered with ecstasy as she felt her lips envelop his stiff member. It felt wonderfully solid, reliably firm and hot in her mouth. She began sucking eagerly on the mushroom head of his thick cock, kneeling up so as to get a better angle. Ahmed moaned and leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs a little wider, letting his hand rest in her soft hair. He wound her shiny, dark curls through his fingers and gripped her hair hard, guiding her head up and down on his cock. Sophie made her mouth as wet as she could and allowed him to fuck her mouth slowly at his leisure. Her head was swimming and she felt like blacking out. The sheer bliss of knowing he was in her mouth, and listening to him grunt every time her tongue licked over the shaft was beyond what she could deal with.

“That’s it my darling, suck my cock. Mmmm yeah suck it,” he muttered with his eyes closed, big strong hand still gripping the back of her head. He was getting slightly rougher now, moving her quicker over his throbbing prick, rubbing his cock in between her lips like she wasn’t even attached to them. He grunted and started pushing his dick further into Sophie’s mouth, enjoying the feeling of hitting the back of her throat.

She choked slightly, trying desperately to take him as deep as she could, while trying to concentrate on not letting her pussy juices drip out of her needy fuckhole. She could smell her own arousal, smell her own pussy leaking furiously, desperately needing to be filled with his big hard Turkish cock.

Sophie’s hands were gripping his hairy thighs as she desperately tried to breathe; Ahmed was controlling her head up and down on his cock forcefully, getting himself off with her mouth. She whimpered every time her nose hit his stomach, the stench of his asshole and sweaty balls firmly in her nostrils. Ahmed didn’t care at this point, his head was rolling back and he was muttering for her to suck his big cock and make sure she pleased him.

“Make me cum in your mouth. Beg me for it. Beg me for my cum,” he grunted, his other hand gripping the base of his considerable shaft, pumping his cock into her abused mouth.

“Please, please give me your cum. Please let me swallow your cum. Please cum in my mouth, please cum on my slutty little tongue and let me swallow it into my belly, please Ahmed please let me taste your cum, please Sir, please,” Sophie begged pathetically, her pussy a drooling gloopy mess by this point. She had tears in her eyes and her mascara was streaming, fully humiliated at what she was asking for.

Ahmed grunted and with three hard, brutal thrusts into her mouth, finally shot his load into her raw throat. Thick ropes of salty white sperm shot directly into the back of her mouth, choking her and making tears stream down her face. He held her nose firmly against his stomach as he moaned and shot his final load into her throat, gagging her in the process. Sophie flailed at his thighs with her hands but he didn’t even notice; he was cumming so hard in her little mouth and it felt amazing. His balls were quivering and he felt his pearly rope of cum shoot straight into her belly as she gasped and struggled for air, her tight warm wet mouth like a vice on his dick.

Ahmed moaned and held her there for a moment, before slowly lifting her head off and allowing her to breathe. Sophie gasped through the cum on her tongue and caught in her teeth. She accidentally blew a spermy bubble as she stuttered and struggled for air. He laughed at her discomfort, and slapped her mascara and tear stained cheek with the full length of his thick cock.

“You liked that, didn’t you, you slut?” he asked, almost whispering. He rubbed his cock over her face, making a mess of her with cum, make up, tears and sweat from his balls.

Ahmed was still controlling all of her head movements with his hand gripping her hair; he held her there like a rag doll while she spluttered for breath. Reaching down with his other hand, he hooked his index finger into her panties and slowly traced the line from her asshole up to her clit, making sure to run his finger firmly over her pussy opening.

“Disgusting…you’re dripping wet,” he smeared her girlcum over her cheek, before putting the finger forcefully into her mouth.

“You know I will not fuck you. I will however pass you to some of the chefs you’ve been cockteasing. Now you are hot and wet and ready to be fucked after sucking my cock, you are ready to be fucked by 6 different dicks.” He smirked down at Sophie, she was trembling with lust at his comments and her nipples were like hard little bullets poking through her shirt.

She looked up at him with a face full of cum, tears and sweat and said gratefully,

“Do you promise?”




Licking her heels #2

It had been over a month since my gorgeous, wicked blonde best friend had humiliated me on her bedroom floor. She’d left me in there, trembling with my head bowed on the rug. I don’t know if it was the wine or the realisation of my fantasy, but I’d been overwhelmed and fallen asleep not long after. I woke to an empty house at 7am with an aching pussy and an even achier head, a pink post-it taped to the fridge.

“Gone to get my hair done babes – help yourself to OJ and bacon! Fab night as always – love you loads see you soon sweetie. Mwah! R xxx”

Ah, so we were pretending it didn’t happen. Well, we are British after all. I wandered back through to her bedroom, thinking that I’d check to make sure I had all my stuff and then probably ring a ta-   there it was. Her dirty laundry basket. I could see a rainbow of lace, silk, fluffy, see through, flimsy material delicately piled up on top of each other. Heart pounding, sweaty palms and a very, very dry mouth, I walked over to the basket. Fuck. I couldn’t do what I was about to do – could I? I caught sight of my guilty expression in her floor length mirror. Messy, black curly hair still rumpled from sleep, blue eyes, soft cheeks and very full plump lips. I was proud of my lips, I knew they were my best feature. I often got complimented on my eyes, but I never really took anyone seriously. At 5,7, size 10, with 34C breasts and fairly normal hips I considered myself very average.

Rachael, on the other hand, was an absolute goddess. I looked back in the basket. Reaching out with a shaking hand, I selected a bright fuchsia lacy thong with silky bows on either side of the V. I could hear blood pounding in my ears as I pulled the dirty thong out and looked at the small strip of lace that would have been nestled against Rachael’s pussy some point in the past week, given it was top of the pile. I felt like I was on auto-pilot when I pressed the crotch of the thong to my nose and inhaled deeply. My pussy instantly got wet and my stomach flipped over. I was actually holding Rachael’s thong – dirty, smelly, sweaty thong – in my hands. I ran the lacy material over my nose, moved my mouth to where the knickers would have cut in between her perfect globe of an ass. The stench was overpowering. Wow, this girl has pheromones, I thought. I rubbed the lace all over my mouth and nose, inhaling as deeply as I possibly could. I inspected the gusset carefully – the filthy bitch, there was cum. A little bit of white crusty girlcum on the crotch of her pink thong. I was breathing so heavily at this point I think there was no oxygen left in the room.

At this point my nipples were hard little bullets poking through the thin silk vest she’d lent me to sleep in. I could feel the gloopy sticky mess in my own knickers getting worse as I considered my next option. I had to finger myself, I knew I had to masturbate furiously and soon, otherwise I would explode. Looking around, I saw one of the black leather high heels that Rachael had made me clean last night lying on the floor. I picked it up, and headed towards her en-suite. Locking the door behind me, (just in case) I slipped out of my black knickers but left the silk vest on (I liked the feeling of the soft material against my hard nipples). I went over to the toilet and sat cross-legged in front of it, so the seat was at eye level. I lifted both parts of the toilet seat up and felt my treacherous clit throbbing between my legs. My juices were leaking out of pussy and onto her bathroom floor. My completely shaven pussy was red hot and the cool tile of the bathroom floor felt sharp in contrast. I swallowed and took a deep breath. Was I really going to do this? I looked at the black leather high heel, the dirty purple thong stained with my best friend’s cum, and the toilet seat right in front of me. Was I really going to fuck myself with her heel, lick her toilet bowl and sniff her knickers at the same time???

Just thinking about it was enough to nearly make my clit explode there and then. I picked up the thong and draped on the side of the toilet bowl. I swallowed again and gingerly leant forward – I could smell a mixture of stale female cum, sweat and a faint whiff of her perfume. Knowing that she had used this toilet made my tiny little pink pussy cream so hard. Being that close to something her ass had touched was almost too much for me. I reached out with my tongue and licked the toilet seat, pressing my nose against the crotch of the soiled knickers at the same time. I picked up the black leather heel, about 5 inches, and rolled it across my tongue to make it wet, not that my slutty little pussy needed any extra lubrication. I gently rubbed the satin back of the heel against my clit. It felt heavenly – my nerve endings were so sensitive, it felt like a thousand tiny little sparks had been sent coursing through my throbbing cunt rubbing Rachael’s high heels on my most intimate spot. I manipulated my nipple with my other hand, gently flicking the nub back and forth while my face was draped in her filthy knickers and my head was in her toilet.

I pushed my clit further into the back of the heel, it felt delicious. I wasn’t too far away from cumming. At that moment I wished I had a big, hard, solid cock to throw me onto my hands and knees and really drive it home. I was so horny and frustrated and needed a good strong fuck to sort me out. I picked the thong up and shoved the entire thing in my mouth so I was choking on the heady scent of Rachael’s cum and ass. I could feel the crusty remains of her pussy against my tongue and I nearly threw up. I switched gears with the high heel and lay on my back on the bathroom floor, opening up my legs. I spread my pussy lips with my spare hand and inserted the black leather heel into my dripping cunt. That was the moment. Bucking my hips back and forth, moaning over Rachael’s disgusting thong in my mouth, having just licked her toilet bowl because it’s the closest I could get to her ass, fucking myself with the leather high heels I could still smell her feet in, I had the most crashing orgasm of my life. My inner thighs were slick with sweat and trembling madly, my nipples were so sensitive the rubbing of the silk vest was making me uncontrollable. I came hard all over the high heel I had shoved right into my slutty little cunt. I felt like a humiliated, disgusting lesbian slut, and it was the hottest cum of my life.

If I hadn’t been moaning so hard, I might have remembered that the door didn’t lock properly, and I’d had an audience….


To be continued

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

30 years old, wearing a dirty paint splattered workman’s tee shirt, cargo shirts with filthy trainers, covered in tattoos and 3 day stubble. Smoking a cheap fag and swilling lager round his glass, natural biceps bulging and a firm hairy chest underneath the polo shirt.

Laughing uproariously in the beer garden behind the pub close to last orders time.

“So, are you posh or what? You don’t sound like you’re from round here, love”

He looked at me with a cheeky smile and a considerably more sinister glint in his eye. There were 7 of them and 2 of us. Me and Mollie, a new girl at work, had gone for drinks on a Tuesday because the Mediterranean restaurant where we worked hadn’t needed us. I’m not sure how we ended up chatting to these builders in the beer garden but we had. They were all from the local town, all had very strong, rough Northern accents and from what I could gather where called Gaz, Dave, Damo, Terry, Dave, Wayne, and Steve (interchange as you like).

Mollie and I couldn’t be described as posh, but I suppose you could argue we didn’t exactly fit in with that particular pub. It was just the only one open and we had been drinking all night, getting to know each other. It was nice to have another girl to work with, I’d been the only English waitress at the place I worked for a while and I thought it would be fun to share my thoughts with someone. I’d not been wrong, turns out Mollie and I were two of a kind in certain respects.

“Well actually smartarse I am from here, it’s just round the corner, do you know the houses behind the second church? My parents live there and I moved back to the area recently,” I was feeling quite cocky, probably as a result of all the Sauvignon swishing round in me. “Just because I can speak properly doesn’t mean I’m posh” I said with a wink and a smug little bratty smile. These boys didn’t scare me – they weren’t a match. I was comfortable offering sarcastic comments back and it was all in good banter anyway.

One of them (I’d love to know their names properly) turned around and said,

“Oh ‘ave you ‘eard this one?! Proper told you what’s what didn’t she! Cheeky bitch, needs teachin’ a lesson I reckon Gaz”

I said, “Oh really? A lesson?” I stood up. “Please do tell me which one of you has got the bollocks to put your money where your mouth is, because I’m betting you couldn’t teach me a lesson with a free textbook and a powerpoint on standby”

At that I triumphantly knocked back the rest of my wine, grabbed Mollie and announced loudly that we’d had enough of these little boys and we’d see them around. Giggling and stumbling out the front entrance of the pub, she clutched my arm and said,

“Oh my god babe, that was like, literally, like so funny. Who even were they?! Literally so jokes. Can’t believe they didn’t have Prosecco in that pub though, what an actual bore!! It was so rough and boring! Shall we go to the Sainsbo’s up the road and get some and head back to yours?”

I agreed that was probably best.


Living in a rural area, we felt completely safe wandering back through the graveyard to my little cottage to drink the Prosecco that we’d bought and somehow managed to open on the walk home. So jokes! Mollie was great fun, this was an excellent idea, except now I had to pee. Badly. I said to her,

“Ok babes you wait here, I’m gonna go and do a little tiny wee wee behind that tree – ” more giggling – “don’t tell anyone I did a wee I’m a good girl we will be at mine soon”

I crouched down about 15 ft away from Mollie and peeled my black tights down to my ankle, lifting my little pleated pink skirt completely above my ass. I leaned forward slightly and let loose a single stream of piss, giggling at how naughty this was. God I was more drunk that I realised.

Out of nowhere I heard,

“Oh, not to fucking posh to piss in the fields is she?” My blood froze. It was the men from the pub. Frantically scrabbling to pull my knickers up I managed to dress myself and stand, looking round to see 4 of them stood there laughing at me and swigging from what looked like a whiskey bottle.

“Dirty fucking little bitch. Didn’t even wipe her arse. Did you see that boys? Fucking posh bitches round here think they’re better than us – went to school with half of em, they come back from their fancy Universities and can’t even fucking remember our names.”

I made a decision. I turned and ran as fast as I could towards Mollie screaming her name. I didn’t get two paces away before I felt strong hands grab me from behind, one sweaty, hairy hand gripped my throat from behind and another closed over my mouth, nearly choking me. I felt my body slammed full force in the tree I’d just been urinating against; it was a massive oak and more than big enough for me to be held against.

I struggled and kicked and tried to bite the hand in my mouth. My face was side on the rough bark of the tree, my lips squished into a little O shape by the hand keeping my head there. The hand was huge and could grip my entire head. My soft hair was being pulled by another hand and both of my arms were pinned above my head, a strong leg kicked mine apart and I was held there. Helpless pinned against the tree by 4 rough, drunk, common locals with a grudge. Locals I’d been very rude to less than an hour ago.

I heard deep breathing and felt one of them lift the back of my skirt up, suddenly there was rope around my wrists. I was being lashed to the tree. Where the fuck had they got fucking rope from?!?! Who carries rope?!?! Then I answered my own question – labourers maybe, rapists definitely. Good work Sophie. Not like you asked for this.

“Wait lads, I know this bitch. Works at that fancy restaurant that won’t let us in. I’ve seen her coming and going, always looks so up herself. I’m not fucking her unless she begs for it.”

Gaz said, “Don’t be a prick Damo, let’s just do her and get home. I’ve got a raging hard-on and the missus is pregnant again, I need to fuck something soon or I’m gonna go mad. I’ll go in the arse if you want I don’t mind I’ve just gotta get back.”

Sophie could see out of the corner of her eye that Gaz already had his stinking prick out. 8 inches long and thick as an aerosol can, she could smell it from there. Clearly there had been no time for them to shower after their day’s hard graft. Gaz spat into his hand and then palmed his cock, pumping the shaft up and down and staring at Sophie’s pale virgin ass trembling in the moonlight. “Come on mate, let me fuck this posh bitch so hard she can’t sit down for a week. Fuckin slut fuckin deserves it.” He wasn’t even making sense anymore, his voice thick with lust, a perfect puckered arsehole just inches from his hard cock was sending him crazy.

Damo, however, was clearly the leader of this pack.

“No mate. Terry, Dave, have one of you got the wallpapering scissors on you or in the van? You know, the massive fuck off ones that look like shears? Go and get em. I remember this bitch as well – from high school. Always in the top classes, teased us all, looked down her nose at us, thought she was better than everyone. She didn’t even snog anyone until Uni I heard. Made my prick hard for 5 years this one. She’s gonna pay for it now. I’m going to enjoy this.”


The Sportsman’s Pub

I was a 15 year old waitress at a country pub in the Lake District, Cumbria, England. I was wearing a white shirt and a black shirt with bare legs, black pumps. Dark curly haired constrained in a bun.

My job was to clear dirty plates and take food out from the kitchen. I was too young to serve alcoholic drinks behind the bar, but I could carry them to the table. I was paid £4.00 an hour and thought myself lucky. I worked hard, but I wasn’t the favourite. Too shy, too posh, too quiet. I didn’t flirt with the regulars, I didn’t stay for drinks with the team after service, preferring my Dad to pick me up so I could go home and study for school.

It was before the smoking ban so the young farmers that came into the pub used to enjoy a cigarette and a pint at the bar. They would come in at about 4pm on a Saturday, when the days work was done, and set up camp until last orders. They liked to make eyes at Franscesca, the 21 year old waitress with red lipstick and blonde hair. She played up to it – simpering and smiling whenever they paid her a compliment. I felt like a pale little waif next to her. I always felt like I had to apologise for even being there, even when I was just doing my job.

One Saturday there were three of them sat on stools at the bar. Drinking pints of lager and having a laugh. I walked past just as one of them knocked over a drink. I automatically apologised and went behind the bar to get some blue roll to clean it up. I came back round and knelt down to clean. I didn’t even realise they hadn’t re positioned their knees and I was essentially on the floor inbetween their legs.

I was trying to pop up the spilled beer when the first comment came.

“While you’re down there love…” Cue lecherous laughter. My face burned crimson. I was still too young to fully appreciate how horrendously inappropriate it was to suggest a teenage girl suck your cock, so I didn’t say anything, just tried to complete my task as soon as I could. Then, it happened.

One of them leaned over and slowly, deliberately, spat a massive wad of his saliva onto the floor that I was cleaning.

“Be a good girl and clean that up as well. You’re welcome, we’re giving you something to do”

My clit was throbbing and my treacherous cunt was soaking wet. I couldn’t look up. My face was burning with shame while my young pink nipples tightened and rubbed against the lace of my teenage starter bra. I tried to keep my breathing even while they laughed and joked, literally looking down at me, while I cleaned up their spit and beer on my hands and knees at 15 years old.

“I can see her tits down that top. Small but I’d still let her give me a titjob, if she asked nicely”

More laughter. My pussy was clenching so hard at this point, my nose on their boots practically as I tried desperately to mop up the sticky mess.

When I finished, I stood up, bright red, and mumbled thank you and sorry. They were still laughing uproariously.

After I threw the blue roll in the bin, I headed straight for the disabled toilets. I ripped my skirt down and shoved two fingers inside my soaking wet teenage pussy. I gripped the bars on the side and tried to imagine all three men dragging me by my hair out to the smelly beer garden near the bins. Ripping my white shirt and tiny black skirt off to reveal me stood there in a pale pink underwear set, frilly knickers and a sodden pussy. Stretching my labia back to fit one big manly cock inside. Another one shoving his fingers down my throat and telling me to gag and look at him. Nipples being twisted and tortured while I am forced to deep throat my attacker. The men spitting on my face and spanking my ass hard while fucking the virginity out of me.

I came so hard in the toilets that I ripped my knickers and ruined my skirt. My face was hot and flushed, my right hand completely cramped up. I took a few moments to compose myself (or so I thought) and left the bathroom.

Sharon, my landlady, was waiting outside the toilets for me with a resigned look on her 55 year old face.

“Your Dad is on his way sweetheart. I’m sorry about Jonno and the lads – he always was a bugger, our Tracey used to babysit him. I am sorry darlin’ working in pubs can be like that sometimes for a young bird. Anyway you get yourself off love – I can tell you’ve been crying, your face is all red. I know it was horrible and you hated it but chin up love it’s only a job, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

If only she knew.

English Slut for Turkish Businessmen #6

Ahmed and Mehmet were sat alone together sharing Iftar and drinking Turkish tea. It had been a very long day. They’d been up since 3am the previous night, eating sweet rice yoghurts and dates and fruit, celebrating their Ramadan. Their bodies felt whole and cleansed. It was the most special time of year for them, and Ahmed felt sorry that Sophie couldn’t enjoy the spirituality that they did. She wasn’t a Muslim, she wasn’t anything. Just a poor lost soul abandoned by her family and struggling to try and find her purpose in this world. He felt it his religious duty to ensure she did not go too far astray – she had that character. He was scared that if they turned their back on the poor girl she would end up on the streets, pathetically offering every hole up to any man walking past, just wanting to feel useful and filled with cock. He and his brother were discussing what to do with her.

Ahmed said, ” Brother, she is our responsibility. We gave her a job, we gave her money, we fed her. It is no surprise she has become dependant on us. We cannot ignore her feelings and what she needs.”

Mehmet responded with a leer, “Oh really brother? We do what you suggest, just for her benefit? It will bring you no pleasure at all?”

Ahmed grew angry. He was a man of a principle. They would not be in this mess if Mehmet had not unlocked this slut’s true nature while he was in Turkey trying to save the business. Now she was unleashed, wild. Like an animal. They had to deal with the aftermath or they would be no better than common rapists or hooligans. Ahmed was an honourable man, he understood that women couldn’t help the feelings they had between their legs. Especially when confronted with a strong Alpha male that could take care of them, and own them in the way they needed. Mehmet had released Sophie from the belief she had to be independent and they had to account for that.

“Brother believe me when I say. What I do today, is the most masochistic thing I have ever done. I do not wish to do this. I hate to see women cry, you know this. But she needs it. She needs it so badly she cannot breathe, she cannot sleep, she cannot eat. We have stirred her most base needs and it is our responsibility to sate them. Will I enjoy what we do? No. Will it bring me pleasure? No. The only pleasure I derive from what we are about to do to this poor defenceless slut is that she craves it so badly in her soul we would be hurting her more if we did not do it. It would be self-indulgent to deny her, and I won’t hurt her. She is too pure. She needs to be humiliated, and brother, we must be the ones to do it.”


English Slut for Turkish Businessmen #5

“Sophie, wake up my darling. Please wake up Sophie, it’s okay, wake up,” Ahmed murmured.

Sophie awoke with a jerk, her frantic eyes looking round her as she tried to orient herself to her surroundings. She was lying under a duvet in her white cotton bra and knickers, in her room above the restaurant. Late afternoon sunlight was streaming into the room through the thin orange gauze.

“Sophie, what were you dreaming? You were crying my darling, we heard you from the kitchen. What is it? Are you still unwell? I promise you will get better soon.”

Inexplicably, Sophie had caught a very severe flu bug and had lots considerable weight over the past 4 weeks. After her encounter with Mehmet in the cellar, he had been so guilty he had behaved like the perfect gentleman towards her. Ahmed had returned from Turkey and had demonstrated nothing but compassion towards her. When she fell ill, with no family in the UK and her nearest friend hundreds of miles away in Brighton, they had insisted she stay with them. She was so weak she couldn’t even feed or wash herself, and Mehmet saw it as his personal responsibility to ensure she was safe and looked after. He’d picked her up in his car the second time she called in sick, and upon seeing how pale and trembling she was, he instantly commanded she get in the car and wait. He went into her flat and packed up clothes, toothbrush, even her favourite teddies from her bedroom and her biggest pink heart shaped cushion. He drove her back to the restaurant and after a hastened conversation in Turkish with the cleaner, her room was ready within two hours. He sent one of their waiters to the local shopping centre and he promptly returned with a duvet set fit for a princess along with a duck feather quilt and soft expensive linen bedding. She was set up in a kingsize bed at the top of the house, with a bell next to her bed to ring when she needed something. Sophie was so grateful for this kindness she had promptly burst into tears and fell into his strong arms. He looked down at her hot, wet face, lips pink and pouting as she struggled to speak. Her soft face was pulpy with tears and shame; she was supposed to be an independent woman, not a weak defenceless little girl.

“Shhh now,” he had said, stroking her cheek gently, “You need to be looked after. You need to eat homemade food and have hot baths and tea. You will stay here and we will all take care of you my darling. You have been a very good girl, and you are our good girl now. We will not leave you out in the cold. You are safe here. I promise you my darling.” He smoothed her hair out of her face and held her gently in his strong brown arms.

That had been 4 weeks ago, before Ramadan began. True to his word – Sophie hadn’t been touched. She was treated like a royal princess, sweet food brought to her on the hour every hour, hot baths ran while Turkish waiters respectfully retreated, eyes downcast, when she was ready to disrobe and get in. She had never felt safer in her life.

So why was her imagination taking her to dark, disgusting places of filth? She felt so ashamed. Yes, ok, there had been a couple of sexual scenarios with Mehmet, but she had made it plain she was consenting hadn’t she? And there certainly hadn’t been anyone else present. And now these men, these lovely, respectful, caring men were trying to observe their most holiest of holidays, Ramadan, and she couldn’t stop thinking about vile things. She felt so guilty, they were just looking after her and they weren’t permitted to drink, eat, masturbate, smoke, or have sex for the next 30 days. So why did this turn her on so much? Why was she plagued every single goddamn night by these dreams that were slowly getting more depraved?

Her thoughts returned to the present and Sophie looked at Ahmed. He said,

“I hate to see women cry. I cannot have a woman upset in my presence. Please Sophie, we are trying to look after you my darling, please you will tell me if there is an upset with you from us?”

His genuinely concerned, gorgeous face looked at hers. His brown eyes were deep and rich and his jaw was set in a soft line of concern for her. She felt like he was looking into her soul. At the same time, he was stroking her bare shoulder with the lightest of touches from his warm, brown fingers. She could feel the hot weight of his body next to hers. She knew instinctively the only reason he had sat down on her bed was because she wouldn’t wake up to anything else; he was that respectful.

Sophie burst into tears.

“I’m so so so so sorry – I have to leave. I don’t deserve to be here. I have – I’m having – I’ve been having these dreams and, these thoughts. I can’t stop. I can’t stop and I am so so sorry I am so grateful and I respect you so much and I am so sorry I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” She sobbed and choked on her own tears. She was nearly hyperventilating with the shame, and the terror. What would she do when they threw her out? Where would she go?

She folded herself up into the foetal position and sobbed her little heart out onto the soft silk pillow he’d made sure she had.

Ahmed said gently, “Sophie, my darling, I cannot help you if I do now know what you have been thinking. You are a good girl. I know you are a good girl, I do not want you to be in pain. You must tell me where you mind is going or you will not be happy. It is better when you smile – you have such a pretty smile. Please no more tears. I cannot stand to see a woman cry.”

Sophie sat up and looked at him. It was now or never.

“I want to be abused” She said plainly, looking him in the eye. “I want to be fucked, I want to be humiliated, degraded, used like a filthy fucking slut. I want you and your brother to chain me up like a dog and piss on me and force me to suck your cock and lick your arseholes and make me debase myself for your entertainment. I want you to invite all of your important business associates round so you can tie me up from the ceiling and take turns with my body, and then ignore me while you smoke cigars and drink brandy. I want you to put me in a collar and leash and lead me round like your slutty little puppy, fucking my ass and pussy and mouth and making me airtight for your pleasure. I want to be your worthless humiliated little fucktoy and I want everyone to know that you own me. I want to be your sex slave. I want to submit to you and your brother and whoever else you see fit to share my holes with. And I am so, so sorry, I cannot stop these thoughts, I just can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry”

And with that Sophie cried even more violently, her whole body shaking in terror and confusion at the strength of her own feelings. She rocked herself back and forth gripping her knees.

“Please help me” She whispered forlornly, looking into Ahmed’s shocked but kind eyes.

Ahmed looked at her. It was Ramadan, he was supposed to be having pure, charitable thoughts. Clearly this girl was not going to be conducive to his religious responsibilities. She was a harlot, a Western whore that his Iman had warned him about growing up. She was an insatiable cockwhore and desperately wanted nothing more than to be fucked. If he peeled the covers off her bare legs, gently spread her sex and commanded her to lie back and take his cock, she wold cum just from the chance to be obedient to his throbbing prick. He swallowed deeply and his jaw was set in a very hard line. This was a test. This was a test he was meant to resist.

Ahmed was always the good brother. The most handsome one of  the family, responsible, religious, dedicated to Islam. A true gentleman by anyone’s standards. Strong, proud, a protector of the weak and the vulnerable, always giving to charity and nurturing lost souls. He had women throwing themselves as his toned brown body weekly but he smiled his enigmatic smile and politely and respectfully declined; it was not the way of Allah to take up with these Western whores. His brother, he knew, had sampled far more of the Western girls and the pleasures they so freely offered. He had heard first hand what it was like to feel a woman’s lips wrap subserviently around your hard cock, gently lapping at your balls until you were ready to gift her with your cum. He had, however, never done it himself. Mehmet was insistent that he get in on their game, take advantage of these English sluts. Whores are meant to be fucked, Mehmet said. You are being cruel by denying them, he said.

When Sophie had started, Mehmet had told Ahmed that he had no choice but to take her for his own. Mehmet had given Ahmed a white sex slave recently, and he couldn’t do anything with her, so she ended up escaping. Mehmet said he was cruel, the girl needed discipline, a firm hand, and an ever firmer cock to worship. If he had just given her what she needed maybe she wouldn’t be on their Uncle’s farm in Turkey being humiliated as a worthless sex slave now. He felt guilty. He looked at Sophie’s beautiful and pure face. She couldn’t help it, clearly. She’d been raised with no religion and left to fend for herself in a world full of men at 21. Of course she craved the darkest parts of dominance, she was crying out for it. Would he be a man and give it to her, saving her the way he couldn’t save the other? Or would he yet again let a poor innocent slut be sold off because he wasn’t man enough to give her what she needed – complete and total dominance?

He had made his choice. He would help her, he would save this beautiful young girl from herself. He would accept her as his sex slave.

English Slut for Turkish Businessmen #4 – be warned, this is far darker than previous

DISCLAIMER: This is not roleplay, gentle, or romantic. This is fucked up, sadistic, violent, depraved sexual torture and rape. It crosses so many lines you can’t even see the lines anymore. I DO NOT CONDONE any of the below in the REAL WORLD. There is a difference. This is pure fiction – completely UNTRUE and an exercise to see how far I could push myself. Please do not read if you are against scat,  bondage, violence, rape, torture, non-consent of any sort. Please note this story will only make sense if you’ve read the previous 3 chapters.

You have been warned. Any minors fuck off now.


Pale, white arms straining against the thick, black ropes above her head. Wrists tied together suspending her from the ceiling. Dark hair hanging limply round her shoulders, her own stench of sweat assaulting her from her armpits. Once pretty, fresh white underwear now grubby, mucky. Stained with dark fingerprints and filth. She had pissed herself, hanging there helpless with her feet barely touching the ground.

Hey eyes blindfolded. It was unbearably hot, wherever she was. No sense of night or day. Sticky, languid heat clung to her slender, twisted body. Trickles of sweat collecting in her arsehole and underneath her swollen breasts. She felt dizzy, like she’d been drugged. Her mouth was dry as sand and her throat felt raw.

A slow, grinding, machinery noise, almost like the shutters to a warehouse opening. A pause, a gust of cool air rushed past her. A clang to let her know the door was shut. Thick bootsteps coming towards her. They sounded like the feet of a giant. Hot breathing on the back of her shoulders, a smell of sweat and testosterone. More footsteps. Vague, unconnected voices around her. Everything sounded like it was underwater. What felt like cool glass pressed against her lower back. She froze, unable to speak or move.

A deep, male voice next to her ear, thick with lust.

“How long she been here my friend?”

“48 hours. No water, no food. We tied her up afternoon, when drugs wore off. She will not be any trouble. Very docile now. Very calm. You will like my friend, I promise you.”

Sophie trembled.

She felt the male presence move round in front of her. She could smell his breath, a mix of cheap cigarettes and coffee, and something sweeter. He was taller than her. A rough, calloused finger slowly traced a line from her throat to her navel. The client reached for her breasts and freed her left nipple from her bra. Rolling and squeezing it between his fingers, testing her threshold. Sophie gasped and realised she had a thick, round rubber gag in her mouth.

“Nice. Firm, like you said. Has she felt either cock or whip yet?”

“You have seen the videos of her nipples being spanked, and learning how to suck cock in the basement. Her bottom has not been touched, as promised. She has not been fucked yet my friend, you will be the first, if you choose.”

“How wet does this one get? He likes very wet. Always very wet for him.”

“You saw Mehmet making this bitch cum without touching her pussy when you were looking through the glass. He said when he removed the skirt her whore knickers were drenched. She is a born submissive. We can smell her all the time – this filthy cunt is constantly gushing. We are confident she will be a star attraction at the farm, you will get your money’s worth out of this one.”

Sophie’s pussy responded to these words and she felt herself getting wet hearing this disembodied foreign voice selling her sex like it was a piece of furniture.

“Okay. Her pussy will need to be inspected. Hand me the knife”

She realised it wasn’t a piece of glass against her back. Large hairy hands grasped her tender hipbones hard from behind, holding her in place. She didn’t know who they belonged to, but whoever it was leaned close and inhaled her curls deeply.

“She will need washing. She stinks. She will need to be washed, shaved, and oiled up before being presented. And her cunt and asshole need loosening up, he does not have time to deal with frigid whores. I have only brought 7 men with me, and we only have 12 hours to properly break this slut into a mindless fuckpig who requires no physical restraints. The Prince has not got time to train disobedient white English sluts who can still think for themselves.”

“Of course my friend, of course. We are confident you will find her most agreeable. We have brought the canines, just in case.”

Sophie heard muffled dog barks that sounded distant – but not distant enough to stop her tight young body trembling with fear.

“Ok, pass me the knife”

The wasitband of her delicate white lacy french knickers was pulled outwards, exposing her pussy to a rush of cool air. Her clit instantly responded, and she moaned and writhed forwards towards the warm fingers inches from her cunt. The knife unceremoniously cut away the front of her sodden panties while she heard scissors making short work of her bra.

Stood suspended from the ceiling, gagged, blindfolded, completely naked with the stench of her own sweat and stale piss in her nostrils Sophie whimpered like a caught puppy. Why was she so wet? Her throbbing clit ached between her legs and she was producing so much girlcum her tight slit was glistening with slime.

The man with the knife, the one who seemed to be in control, sneered. He got level with her pussy. She felt his hot, rancid breath on her delicate flower. A rough, flat tongue reached out and he dragged it slowly from the opening of her cunt up to her clit, grinding it against her most delicate of spots. Sophie’s body convulsed forwards and she involuntarily let out a moan.

A foreign voice said proudly,

“We told you. Ahmed only provides the best English whores. This one is born to suck your cock. She might be a little older than we usually provide, but she makes up for it. She will beg to serve on her knees until she is no longer useful and then you can use her as a breeding cow for more slaves. It is a very fair trade for what we want from you my friend.”

“Ok. I will be the judge of that. Cut her down, we will begin. Suleman, get the oils, clamps, chains and The Angle. Oh, and the whip. This white bitch needs to learn her place. Let’s see how wet she is after 12 hours of servicing our cocks and being whipped on her cunt and pathetic whore titflesh.”

Sophie felt her gloopy cum ooze out of her worthless and treacherous pussy. She was going to be passed around like a cheap piece of meat, dangling from the ceiling while every Turkish man had his turn with each whole.

Suddenly, her blindfold was lifted. Her dilated pupils adjusted to the smoky darkness. There were no less than 11 Turkish men stood round her. All stocky, big, hairy and looking at her with animalistic rage in their eyes. She looked fearfully around and tried her best to speak through the ball gag, when she noticed a menacing presence step out of the shadows. Nearly 7ft tall, shoulders as broad as a house and thighs bigger than her entire body. A shaven head supported by a thick, sinewy neck. Dark, deep set eyes that were almost black glittered with evil intent. His mouth set in a cruel line, a sadistic grin playing on his lips. Sophie was so scared she felt a little bit of wee trickle out of her vulnerable pussy. She started fighting against her ropes and tried to scream against her gag. She was bucking so hard the man behind her lost grip of her hips, she tried to kick out with her feet and flailed uselessly. Her entire body was possessed, desperately trying to wrench herself out of her ropes and run a million miles. Tears formed instantly in her blue eyes and she was hysterically sobbing and writhing at the same time.

A look of confusion passed between the restaurant owners.

“Amir, do you know this girl?”

He smiled and uncrossed his arms to reveal a violently sharp black leather whip, almost longer than her body in length. He took a step closer to her and relished seeing this uptight princess struggle against her bonds, clearly terrified out of her mind. Pissing herself, crying, whimpering and cowering before him. Tight pink nipples, bare flesh completely unmarked by burns, scars, or whips.

Amir placed the whip very, very gently on the floor by his feet, never breaking eye contact with the unfortunate girl 20 years younger than him naked and helpless.

Upon rising, he unbuttoned his dark blue shirt that was straining over his huge brown muscles. This guy made The Rock look small. When he removed his shirt, everyone in the room apart from Sophie gasped and looked away, for she knew what to expect.

Deep set welts criss-crossed his entire torso. His back bore evidence of severe lacerations, inches deep and very wide. The silvery marks suggested he had been beaten several times, with several different implements, over a long period of time. He had a huge, ugly scar across his entire left pectoral, still mottled with evidence of being tortured long after the initial wound was inflicted. A tiny trickle of filthy brown shit escaped Sophie’s arsehole and the bile rose to her throat as she realised the exact situation she was in.

Amir’s soulless black eyes bore straight into Sophie’s as she tried desperately not to choke on the vomit in her mouth.

“15 years ago, I was arrested as an infidel in Uzbekistan. Suspected of terrorist activity, I was help captive at Guantanamo Bay for almost ten years, until my brothers broke in and rescued me, killing all of my persecutors. All but one. We thought we had killed him, he was the worst offender of them all. He tortured me day and night, he raped my wife and my daughter in front of me and made me watch. He kept my 15 year old daughter as his personal sex slave in front of me for 3 years. He transformed her into a mindless slut for English cock. He trained her to cum at the click of his fingers, he brainwashed her to cum when she watched me get tortured. I watched my beautiful baby girl on her knees sucking 20 English cocks in a row. The things they did to her in front of me…you wouldn’t do a dog. She slept in their filth. She begged to be allowed to eat their shit – I watched them modify her pussy into a human toilet. She lived off their piss and shit. She was treated worse than anything you could imagine – all for their sexual pleasure. He used to sit opposite me for hours at night – with my daughter on a leash in front of him. It nearly drove me mad. My sweet young wife was sold to a Mexican street gang, and died in less than 12 months after they took bets on how many horses could fuck her before her tiny body gave up. They filmed it and got popcorn and beers and chained my face inches to the screen. When they were bored, they would bring my daughter in, who they had changed from a sweet innocent girl into a pig. She would oink and sleep in the filth, cocks constantly in her mouth, pussy and ass. He would whip me hard in front of her, and then fuck her dripping pussy with the handle that had been used to beat her Father. All of this in front of me. Every day. Every night.

After I escaped, we thought he had perished in the fire. We raided his belongings and discovered mementos; family pictures. We burned them all. I wanted no trace of this man.

4 years ago, I found out that he was not only alive, but he thrived. He had found love again, he had gone on trial taking pictures of my face, making the world think I was a murderer who deserved to be hanged. My picture was in Western media for years, everyone thought I was a monster. When they could not find me or my brothers, I learned that he had retired from working for the government. He had left his command and started a new life, taking his family, his money, and his untarnished reputation with him. At first, I wanted to seek him out. But I knew that would not be enough. I had to do worse than that. So, instead of following him, I vowed to track down his only daughter, the only remaining member of his family to remain in England. Rumour had it she cut ties after learning what kind of man her Father truly was – she wanted nothing to do with him or his money. Determined to make it on her own. Sweet girl.”

Sophie passed out.