“Do you think you could remind me what I'm good for?”

It was a very, very thirsty hello. And honestly, I nearly ignored the DM.

I’m aware of the effect that my words have on women. There’s a steady stream of comments and messages from smart, capable women asking me to treat them like mindless, horny sluts. Some want me to roleplay with them. Some want me to meet up and use them as cumdumps. I have a preference for chatting with the would-be in-person fucktoys, but this thirsty girl felt more like a roleplayer.

And it didn’t help that I was still annoyed over the night before. My planned fucktoy ghosted 30 minutes before she was supposed to meet me, deleting her account in the process. It made me want to find the next-closest slut and use her until she broke.

A minute later, the thirsty girl sent a second message.

“Your posts and comments make me so wet,” she said.

OK, flattery was worth at least a hello.

“Morning!” I said. “I might be a little grumpy today. One of my potential sluts ghosted last night.”

“Perhaps I can cheer you up,” she replied.

We love an eager slut.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Mmmm, I think that’s for you to decide,” she said. “Maybe obedience? I’m not sure what would make you happiest. I’m sitting here ‘working’.”

She sent along a fairly innocent picture of her in a black bra and tan shorts, showcasing a very fit body. It was the type of body I like to slam up against a wall and choke as I fuck her. But it was also the type of body I could see a catfish using. I needed to test her.

“You're a cute little thing,” I said. “You'd look better with no pants and sitting on the floor.”

In less than a minute, she sent a second picture. Same room, same light, same black bra. Only the shorts were missing, and she was on the floor.

Good girl.

She wanted to know what she was good for, and I had a need for distraction. I kept giving her instructions until she was naked, showing me her fuckholes and masturbating for my approval.

“OK, but I can’t make too much noise, my boyfriend is in the other room,” she said.

That made me want to make her scream.

There’s something about the taboo of taking another man’s woman. Finding ways to push her buttons, to make her cum in ways that he just honestly can’t. The competitive monster in me loves this. Sometimes, I have trouble caring if the slut in question is getting permission from the boyfriend or not. It’s really none of my business if she was allowed to strip naked and show me her spread pussy while he played video games in the next room.

I wanted her. But not just sending me pictures. I wanted to feel her. Taste her. Use her.

It took some time. Daily chat messages, sharing pictures and bits of our lives. She kept reading through my other stories, then finding out about my voice and my art. Her masturbating to me became a ritual of her life.

If I wanted to see her naked, there was no hesitation. If I wanted her to write, “Property of Casey” on her tits, she did so while sending me a dozen pics of her masturbating in the shower while tagged.

She’s in my contacts as Slut #94-69-12-1-4-A. I’ll admit, that doesn’t really roll off the tongue. So for this story, we’ll call her Betty.

Having so much control over Betty’s body was intoxicating. We both knew what the next step was, and we both needed it.

It was my birthday weekend. I was at a work conference on the other side of the country, which coincidentally was within driving distance of her house.

With the vanilla fun winding down, I was hoping that most of my friends and coworkers would have left the hotel and traveled back home. I had a window to sneak her in, but she was running late.

We needed to be discreet getting to the room.

“When you get there, just walk straight through the lobby,” I said. “Act like you’re just coming back to your room. Follow me to the elevator, and don’t say anything until we’re alone.”

There was a long pause. I knew she was in the parking lot right now. I couldn’t figure out if she was having a panic attack, thinking about driving away, or getting enough nerve to walk in the door.

I needed to push her.

“Remember the safewords,” I said. “I promise I won’t touch you until you say Green. Green means Go.”

“Green,” Betty replied.

“I’m still going to make you say it out loud,” I said.

She stepped through the door in a flowing white dress. Perfect for a sunny day, almost innocent. She had a fae-like look to her - small tits, skinny, tight ass and pretty face. Tall and leggy.

I winked, then held my breath as I walked to the elevator. I didn’t want to take the turns too fast. She was maybe 20 feet behind me? I could still see some of my coworkers casually cleaning up some tables in the ballroom. I didn’t make eye contact.

I hit the elevator button.

“Green,” she said, standing right next to me. “Green green green.”

I held a finger to my lips, then nodded to the elevator. There could be people coming down. As the door opened, I intentionally moved two steps away from her.

There was already some suspicions about why a woman with big tits and ass spilling out of her clothes was talking to me at the start of the weekend. They didn’t have any clue that I have a hobby of making women act like dirty little sluts. If they saw me with Betty, they probably would have assumed I was hiring sex workers.

Three of my friends came out of the elevator, heading to the hot tub. I nodded and mumbled about an early flight, just feeling beat and needing some sleep. Betty acted like a complete stranger, walking in before me.

I’m mostly sure they didn’t suspect what their friend Casey was about to do.

I hit the top floor button and just watched the doors slowly close. As the elevator started to lurch up, I spun, grabbing Betty by the throat, pushing her against the wall and giving her a deep kiss.

Now up close, I could see she didn’t bother wearing a bra with her cute white dress. It was easier to see her pierced nipples through the fabric.

Part of me was thinking about how she was 30 minutes late, nearly getting us caught. I had to punish her.

Another part of me was feeling her, smelling her, and wanting to cum inside of her. I needed to fuck this naughty little slut.

The “resort” was really doing some mental gymnastics to call itself that. It wasn’t even a hotel, with the motel-like outdoor hallways and truly low budget rooms.

I dragged her inside. If I waited any longer, I would have made her suck my cock in the elevator.

I locked the door behind me. I tugged briefly at the drapes to cover the window, but was immediately distracted by her hands trying to open my pants and stroking my hard cock.

Fuck it. They can watch.

I don’t know who “they” were. But it didn’t matter. The maids. My friends. Her boyfriend. Everyone. Watch as I push this cocksucker to her knees, enjoy yourselves as she starts to wrap her hips around my shaft.

In a desire to impress her, I spent the previous two days not cumming. I could feel the tightness in my balls, a desire to absolutely fill her mouth. I could have. I almost did.

I pulled my cock out and slowed her down. Sitting down in the chair next to the door, I put her back on her knees. She was an obedient fucktoy, aggressively licking my shaft and sucking the tip.

There’s a chance that she was naturally gifted at sucking cock like it was her religion. There’s also a chance that I purposely described to her how good of a blowjob I had gotten a few days early. I even made sure she watched some video of that, feeding into her competitive desires.

I groaned, then took over. Holding her head tight, I started fucking her face, letting her gag spit until it dripped down my balls.

“Good girl,” I said, petting her head and letting her return to sucking. “You’re a good little cocksucker for Daddy.”

I leaned back in the chair, and some motion caught my eye. There was a very clear line of sight from her mouth slobbering on my cock to the outside window, with a group of people walking past. A break in the drapes that was about 10 inches wide. Looking at the curtains, I realized that this cheap resort had replaced the two-rail blackout drapes and light curtains with just one track of so-so drapes that couldn’t reach the edge, no matter how much I tugged on them.

The corner I was sitting in, getting sucked off, was permanently visible.

I have no idea who saw what. Again, I didn’t care.

Right now, all I wanted to do was cum. And I wanted to cum inside of her.

I pulled her off my cock again. She looked a little pouty. I knew she wanted to make me cum with her mouth. But I wanted to breed her. I wanted to fill her and use her as my personal cunt. Keeping my hand in her hair, I pulled her up until she stood. At 5’9, she was only five inches shorter than me. Taller than most of my sluts. But skinny enough that I didn’t have any trouble throwing her.

I put her on her back on the bed, then pushed up the bottom of her dress until my fingers found the edges of her panties. I yanked them down hard… I may have ripped them. Not sure, and I still don’t care. They were in the way of a pussy that belonged to me.

There wasn’t any effort to take my time or make it last. I didn’t want to make love to her. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to use her like an animal, I wanted to fuck her hard and cum inside of her.

I wanted to cum inside of her over and over again.

It wasn’t her pussy.

It was mine.

She was my fucktoy.

She was my property.

I got to do whatever I want.

I let that power fill my body. The rush of control, dominance and getting what I want, it all felt so good.

It all felt right.

Collecting myself, I pulled out, then let her lick my cock clean. She did as she was told.

Only, she didn’t, did she? As obedient as she was, she was 30 minutes late. Post-nut clarity, and my first thought was, “Punish this slut.”

Spanking and most pain options were off the table. She bruised a little too easily, and we didn’t want to send her back to her boyfriend with any marks. It had to be humiliation.

I picked up a dog collar and leash from my kink toys, then buckled her up.

“On your hands and knees,” I said.

She obeyed.

“That’s a good dog,” I said. “Heel.”

I started to pace laps around the room, walking my new bitch. I thought about how that one corner was very visible to the outside. I grinned and walked her in that direction.

“Though I have to wonder, are you really a good dog? Good dogs are never late. They show up when they’re supposed to.”

She moaned a little. That moan. It was so good.

Fuck it. I know I should have punished her more. But right now, I wanted to make her moan a lot more.

I made her stand up and take the dress off. It was too pretty to damage. With her naked, I sucked on her nipples and squeezed her ass.

“Could you put this on a little tighter?” She asked, looking at me with the sweetest eyes and pointing to her collar.

Oh, I was going to make her moan a LOT more.

There was a huge smile on Betty’s face.

She was naked and on her knees in front of me. While the simple nylon dog collar was handy, Betty was eager to feel the thick, heavy leather collar around her. I made it as tight as I dared. She wanted pain and humiliation, but I didn’t want to leave any marks on her.

We didn’t want her boyfriend to know what I was doing to her.

And so far, what he didn’t know is that she drove a few hours to meet me in a cheap motel, where I immediately made her suck my cock and fucked her until I came deep inside of her. Then I made her walk around the room like a dog, crawling on all fours with her leash in my hand.

“It can be a little tighter,” she said with an impish grin.

I went one more notch on the collar’s latch, then checked to make sure I could still fit a finger in between the leather and her skin. I could tell she wanted me to hurt her more.

Moving behind her, I wrapped my arm around her neck and held her in a headlock. Feeling her naked ass against my cock made me start to get hard again.

Betty was taller than most of my subs at 5’9. I was still a bit taller than this thin, leggy blonde with a tight ass and small tits, though only by five inches. So I wanted to throw my size around a bit more, just to get her in the right mindset.

Dragging her by the neck, I moved over to the mirror.

“Look at what a naughty little slut you are,” I whispered in her ear.

With my free hand, I groped her pierced tits, then slid along her firm belly, lower and lower, until I was between her legs. Her pussy was a wet mess of my cum and her own juices.

“You like being a dirty little slut for Daddy, don’t you?” I asked.

She moaned, nodded, and almost managed some form of a “Yes.” Words were not her strong suit at the moment.

The moan, though, was doing a lot of work. I could feel myself almost fully hard again.

I had just turned 45 a few days previous. We had talked about maybe trying to fuck with Viagra, just to see how it would affect me. Apparently, it wasn’t that needed at the moment.

Of the two beds in the room, I had decided that one of them was the “sleep” bed and one was the “fuck” bed. The “fuck” bed was closer to the door, while the “sleep” bed was closer to us.

We had already made a bit of a wet spot on the “fuck” bed.

I started to move her forcefully towards the beds. Her ass rubbing against me, I got impatient. Yes, the “fuck” bed was only 10 feet away. But I let the lust wash over my body and bent her over the corner of the bed.

She was just tall enough that I was able to comfortably slide into her pussy while standing up. It had been a while since I’ve done that, and I took some strokes inside of her just enjoying that.

Remembering that she was a slut that needed to be humiliated, I grabbed her leash and tugged on her, reminding her what she was.

At this point, though, I was still planning on trying to cum five to seven times for her. While that’s barely possible with me, that also means I needed to treat this like an endurance race. She was getting me close to cumming again, so I flipped her over on her back for missionary.

Missionary gets a lot of shit as a sex position. But if you’re going for a fast, hard way to cum fast, putting a fucktoy on her back, spreading her legs and looking her in the eye is one of the most effective ways to get me off.

Now, I might mix in a lot of hair-pulling, choking, dirty talk and the occasional face-spitting, so maybe I’m stretching the definition of a missionary position a bit.

“You want me to cum inside of you, don’t you, you whore,” I said.

“Yeeeees,” she moaned.

“Tell me what a dirty little whore you are,” I said.

“I’m,” she paused for a moment as I intentionally thrusted harder inside of her. “I’m a dirty little whore.”

“Say it again.”

“I’m a dirty little whore!”

That was enough to get me to unload inside of her again.

I did my best to stay hard inside of her, pushing a couple extra times. But I could feel my limits kicking.

I switched over to my fingers, starting immediately with two.

I wasn’t allowed to mark her, at least anywhere noticeable. And she wanted to be hurt. A lot.

Pussies are absolutely amazing for this. There’s only a few places on the body with even remotely the same amount of nerve endings - the hands and the head.

And they’re built to handle massive amounts of blood flow. A hard cock and a throbbing clit are the exact same reactions, caused by the body sending a huge amount of blood to a limited area.

So it’s very easy to deliver pain through a pussy, and it’s very easy for a pussy to heal.

I wanted to see what she could take. I moved up to three fingers, spreading her more and more.

The reaction was obvious. She was completely my puppet now, lost to my control. I started to lick her clit. Any traces of Betty were gone now. She was just a fucktoy.

My fingers found her G-spot, smaller and a lot more subtle than most I’ve felt. Given the way her entire body started to squirm when I touched her there, I have to assume that not many partners have gotten there before me.

The squirming was very complimentary of my skills, but also a little bit annoying.

I stopped licking her clit, repositioning my body. With my left hand still pumping inside of her, I used my right forearm like a seatbelt over her waist, pinning her down.

I started pushing harder.

Deeper.

I let my fingers spread inside of her.

My middle finger stayed pressed against her g-spot, rubbing up and down with the thrusts of my arm.

She bucked against me, trying to wiggle away. I pushed down with my right arm harder.

Her hands grasped around, finding my head, my arm. Holding me tight. Riding me like a roller coaster.

Her thighs were quivering.

Harder.

Deeper.

Faster.

Moans and soft swear words slipped out of her mouth.

I could feel every muscle in her core flex.

The warm, wet gushing of a squirt started.

I cupped my hand so that my fingers stayed inside of her as the base of my palm smothered her clit. Instead of pumping in and out, I switched to more of a side-to-side rub, splashing her mess everywhere.

There is a pride in making a woman squirt. I can feel it, like an electrical jolt of ego shooting down my spine and throbbing in the base of my cock. Knowing that I’ve solved a woman's body to the point that she loses all control. It’s a rush of compliments in a wordless language.

When she finally stopped squirting and thrusting her hips against my hand, I pulled my hand out. It was a mess of cum and pussy and squirt. I pushed my fingers into her mouth.

“That’s a good girl,” I said. “Lick them clean.”

I tried to remember if I knew she was a squirter. Maybe?

What I didn’t remember was that I should have moved her over to the “fuck” bed before making her cum this hard. Maybe the wet spot on that bed wasn’t too bad. Maybe the “sleep” bed just graduated to “even more fuck” bed.

“Fuck,” Betty moaned, her mind slowly turning back on. “Fuck. Three years.”

In my post-cumming, post-made-her-squirt victory lap, I was a bit lost. But I could tell that some hard emotions were sneaking in.

“Three years?” I asked.

“We’ve been together for three years,” she said. “He’s never done that. He’s never made me squirt.”

It took me less than an hour to do this to her. I wanted to gloat. But also, the last thing I wanted her thinking about was her boyfriend.

“That doesn't matter,” I said with a stern voice. “This is my pussy.”

I pushed my fingers back inside of her and looked her in the eye.

“You're my fucktoy,” I said. “Every inch of your body belongs to me. If I want to make your cunt squirt like a whore, I will. No one else has an opinion that matters here.”

I could see it in her face. The lust washed back over her and she bit her lip. It was burning inside of her, smothering out the doubt. She needed this.

“Yes Daddy,” she said. “I belong to you.”