Ivy is, at her core, a cumslut.

Personally, it’s something I love saying. Because every time I mention that Ivy the cumslut is a cumslut, she reads it, gets annoyed, thinks about arguing the point, then has to admit to herself that she is, indeed, a dirty little cumslut.

But to be fair, I didn’t know Ivy was a cumslut when I first found her.

I was browsing along, and spotted her looking amazing in a little black dress. I often joke about how I have about 20 different fetishes just tied to women’s fashion (bikinis, tank tops, short shorts, skits, ect.), and the LBD is absolutely one of the top looks to turn me on.

She was making her dress look so fucking good that I had to look deeper into her profile, where I found a lot of primal, predator/prey and rough types of play in her list of things she was curious about. It was enough to warrant a slide into her DMs.

And yeah, the slide worked really, really well.

We started planning out some potential scenes, kinks she wanted to try out, things she wanted to learn how to do. Consensual Nonconsent play kept cropping up, but given her experience levels, I wanted at least one night of testing her limits before I tied her up against her will.

As we were discussing her limits, we talked about degrading language.

I don’t actually call women sluts, cumdumps, cunts and whores on a regular basis. I don’t need to do it during sex. But I have noticed, especially with my sluts, that some dirty little fucktoys like to be told what a filthy girl they are when I’m using them.

Ivy was aware of this, and aware of my Slut Identification Numbers. She was aware, and curious, but wasn’t sure she could ever see herself being OK being called that, or even saying those words out loud.

But it was her visceral reaction to this idea, that she MIGHT be a slut, that caught my curiosity.

“I’ve never let anyone talk to me like that,” she said. “I genuinely don’t know what it would do to me.”

There was a button there, and I had to push it.

I tested her out with an audio recording. I found out a while ago that some women really like the sound of my voice, and they really, really like it when I say filthy things to them. So I made some different recordings, like a guided meditation to remind you that you’re my prey.

“Let me know if you like it or didn’t like it,” I said.

I’ll never admit this to her, but at this moment, I was terrified of fucking it up. If my voice was a turn-off for her, it was game over and I was blowing a chance to use a very attractive woman as my struggling prey. I could have still used her if I kept my mouth shut…

“You dick,” she said. “Already made me pause it to switch to my headphones.”

That made me smile. Yeah, I had her.

“Just know that it’s OK to not like the recording, that won’t hurt my feelings if it’s not for you,” I said. “We’ll adjust your scene as needed.”

I knew damn well that she was learning something about herself.

“Well,” she said.

There was a long pause between DMs.

“I don’t want to tell you because it would kill me to give you the satisfaction.”

I could feel my cock pulling at my underwear with how quickly I was getting hard.

“I wasn’t trying to have an identity crisis on a Wednesday night,” she said. “Am I a slut? I’m livid. Fuck me. I went into this all cocky, too. I was going to tell Mr. Casey himself what I was going to do with HIM.”

“Are you a dirty little slut for me?” I asked.

“I’m really, really worried I might be,” she said.

“Good.”

It amused me that she thought I was being cocky with a big ego. Up until this point, there was a cautious optimism that this extremely attractive woman was going to be fun to fuck.

But now?

Yeah, I was feeling my ego swell. She was my cumslut.

We probed through some potential kinks for her to try. While she had some kink experience, she was still a bit new to things like rope, impact play and degradation.

One thing in particular really, really jumped out at her - leash and collar play. She had a chance to explicitly say no to this. It was very, very clear she hated the idea of having a dog collar put on her, and was ready to riot over the thought of being led around on a leash. But her eagerness and curiosity forced her to not say no.

She was my cumslut.

And while she had never called herself a cumslut before, she knew very well how much she enjoyed the sight of cum. Watching some of my edging videos had a fun effect on her. So I made her a deal: I’d do my best to not cum for a couple days before we met up.

My mistake was telling my other sluts that I didn’t plan on cumming for a couple days. After spending most of Thursday driving, Friday I was at a conference for work, getting a steady stream of nudes from attractive women feeling their brat vibe. The frustration was building and putting me into a near-feral mood.

I got back to my hotel room, showered, then changed into a shirt and tie. Basic hygiene and a little bit of professional wardrobe go a long way towards turning women into slut fucktoys.

By 7:58, I found a discreet enough place in the hotel lobby to meet up. I sent her the location, then waited.

And waited.

There’s an anxious danger zone before any meet-up, where the whole scene could just crumble into dust. Chatting with two of the brats that sent me nudes, I let them know there was a chance that I might be sending them nudes back later if Ivy didn’t show.

At 8:05, she still hadn’t messaged back.

At 8:10, she meekly walked across the lobby with a guilty smile, wearing the cute, innocent sundress I told her to wear.

I walked over to her like an old friend, bending over to give her a hug, and letting one of my hands reach down to squeeze her ass.

My good luck charm.

And I could feel my cock getting hard. I needed to use this dirty little slut like a fuckdoll. I practically dragged her to my room.

The suite was possibly too fancy for what I wanted to do to her. A king-size bed, a sitting area. A jacuzzi with a view of the city from 20 stories up. And a bench at the end of the bed.I sat at the edge of the bench and told her to come to me.

She started to sit on my lap.I laughed as I grabbed her hair and jerked her body over my knee.

“Ten minutes late?” I asked. Or maybe accused. I didn’t need an answer.

I’m sure she was starting to apologize. I just ignored it as I started to spank her, pushing up the hem of her dress and exposing her tight little ass.

I wanted nothing more than to push my cock inside of her and fuck her doggystyle. But she needed a lesson.

As this was my first time causing her pain, I slowly increased the roughness of my slaps, using just my bare hand. When she really started to squirm, I calmly asked her, “Stoplight?”

My safewords are extremely simple - red for stop, yellow for slow it down, and green means go. It’s literally a stoplight. So when I ask my sub, “Stoplight,” I’m asking to make sure she remembers she has safewords and isn’t too far into subspace.

Ivy’s reply of, “Green,” had a lot of regret and excitement mixed into it. She knew what she was. It’s possible she was denying it. But now, bent over my lap, feeling me overpower her with no effort, and feeling her pussy warm up as I abused her, she couldn’t deny it.

I licked my fingertips, then ran them between her legs.

“Such a dirty little cumslut. Your pussy is just begging to be fucked.”

She moaned. The sound had more pain than when I was spanking her.

“You like being called a cumslut, don’t you?”

I pushed my fingers deeper into her pussy. I knew she wasn’t going to answer me. Not yet. But soon.

I grabbed her by the neck and pushed her flat onto the bench, then let my tongue work around her pussy.

In the back of my mind, I thought about how she warned me that she never had anyone make her cum. I didn’t care.

With my fingers inside of her and my tongue on her clit, I started to feel the familiar signs of a slut that wanted to lose control. The squeezing of her pussy, the slight shaking of her thighs, even the stiffness of her g-spot.

It felt easy to do this to her. She was made to be my puppet.

“Do you want to cum?”

“Please,” she said. “Please, Mr. Casey. May I cum?”

If I pushed it and demanded that she say she’s a cumslut, she would have dug deep into a bratty defiance and held off cumming. It was too early for that.

She needed some positive reinforcement. Like training a dog to heel.

“Cum for me, you little slut,” I said.

Every inch of my body wanted to use her now. To fuck her hard and fill her with cum.

But I wanted my control.

I grabbed her by the hair and made her crawl alongside me as I walked over to the massive windows of my suite. The 50-foot wide view of the city and the mountains was gorgeous, but I didn’t let her look at it. I had her face my crotch and kneel as I towered over her, slowing rolling up the sleeves of my button-down shirt.

Then I casually pulled my hard cock out, and without a scrap of ceremony, pushed it into her mouth.

To Ivy’s credit, she has some skill with her mouth. Enough that I opted to sit down for a bit and enjoy it.

With the change of position, she started to get her hands involved. I will say from experience, it’s rare that a woman is good with her hands when playing with me. That might be a bit of a biased observation, as I often tie their hands up. I definitely was going to be tying this slut’s hand’s up later. But right now, those hands were damn near making me cum.

I could have let her make me cum. Maybe just a couple strokes more and I would have. But I like my control.

I picked her up off the ground, then pushed her onto the bed. I wiped just enough spit off my cock, then slipped a condom on and fucked her.

I didn’t go that hard. She reacted so viscerally to my cock inside of her. She wasn’t used to someone as big as me. I didn’t need her tapping out just yet. I had a lot more planned for her.

Without cumming for days, with her bent over my lap, with her moans from her orgasm, it didn’t take much for me to cum.

I wanted to pull out. I wanted to pull off the condom and paint her face. But I edged too much, and felt my cock starting to fill the condom with cum before I had half of my dick out of her.

I rolled with it. I pulled the cum-filled condom out, then started pouring it over her face.

It was an absurd amount of cum.

I let it drip down her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. She had the look of having taken a well-attended bukakke. And she looked like a happy little cumslut.

From there, I did let her clean up a little, then we started talking about the do’s and don'ts of rope play. I taught her some basic ties and safety precautions.

First, I showed her some simple knots around her wrists. Not impossible to escape from, but they slow sluts down. Then I started tying her to the bench, ankles and wrists trapped against the four legs.

She was exposed and helpless. Of course I took advantage of her.

I started with my fingers, but quickly started adding in her dildo and vibrator. It didn’t take her long to get back to that point of begging for permission to cum. That point that no one else had taken her before.

This time, I made her beg longer.“Don’t you fucking dare cum, you little slut.”

I punctated my threats with some slaps to her face and tits.

She started to squirm. She was desperate. Her pussy wanted release, and her mind was fixated on doing what I told her to do.

This is when I knew that I owned her.

She was my cumslut.

“Do you want to cum now?” I asked, intentionally pushing the dildo into her harder.

“Yes please,” she said.

I pushed the vibrator down on her clit.

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

“Mmmmnngh,” she groaned.

Her face knitted into an expression of agony and pleasure. She knew it. She wanted it.

“Tell. Me. What. A little. Cumslut. You. Are.”

Each word came with a hard thrust of her dildo.

Her right shoulder tried to roll off the bench. Her legs tried to squeeze close. Both efforts failed against my brute strength.

“Fuck,” she said. “I’m a cumslut.”

“Good girl,” I said. “Cum for me, you little slut.”

She didn’t just moan. She screamed. Her thighs started to quiver, and I held her tight against the bench.

And I didn’t stop.

Ivy was so much smaller than me, it was easy to keep her pinned down. It was easy to force her to ride out the orgasm longer than she thought she could.

The screaming, the moaning, the lack of control over her body… it was all making my cock throb.

Or possibly the victory. The smug sense of knowing exactly what type of cumslut Ivy was, knowing she herself didn’t even know this. And now I was showing it to her, breaking her ego into tiny little pieces and rebuilding her into a fucktoy for my use.

The screams ebbed down to soft moans, but my cock was still hard.

“That’s a good girl,” I said. “You’re a good little cumslut.”

Ivy smiled as I untied her.

I had to wonder if a part of her thought she was done for the night. She was moving slowly, almost intoxicated over what she’d just survived.

I grabbed her by the throat.

She gasped, and sobered up.

She knew.

She wasn’t done yet.

“This might hurt you,” I said. “But I don’t care. Right now, I need to fuck you. And I’m going to fuck you hard, cumslut.”

I pushed her back onto the bed, spread her legs and pushed her knees to her chest.

I’m not sure if she was trying to say words or not, but the moment I pushed my cock back inside of her, her vocabulary became a limited list of swear words and making sure I knew that I was her god.

All the planning, all the thinking, all the patience left my body.

I was victorious.

Ivy’s tight little cunt was my prize.

I let the monster out and fucked her from a primal lust.

And then I felt the release, the rush of pleasure to my mind.

Her legs were twitching and she was gasping for air.

My breath was ragged.

We collapsed onto the bed and snuggled. There were some towels for the sweat, and we talked over the parts we liked and didn’t like. There were a lot more likes.

“I’m a cumslut,” Ivy said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“You’re MY cumslut,” I said.

She let that thought in, and she liked it.

Only a monster like me can make her be a cumslut.

The snuggling got me hard again. So I made my cumslut sit on my cock and ride me for a bit. I was amused that she struggled to sit up completely straight on my dick. So naturally, I would push down on her thighs, or push up on her chest, just to make her take more cock than she could handle.

When I had enough fun tormenting her, I bent her over a pillow and fucked her again. Slower this time, but I still got the sense that every thrust into her was breaking her. And I loved it.

The rest of the night, we took advantage of the jacuzzi. She piled her body into my lap, we enjoyed the view, and I fingered her and told her what a good girl she was.