This wasn’t the same tank-top/short-shorts wearing cheerleader that had distracted me so just over a week ago. It seemed like only days ago, and several years ago at the same time, that I had watched in amazement (and a small amount of pride in her) as her throat bulged around my cock. I had an urge to do it again, but not for sexual pleasure. I wanted to watch her choke. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my hand around her slender neck, holding my cock as far down her throat as it would go. I bareback wanted to slap her across the face as I watched the life drain from her eyes. She had an amazing body, but it had become something offensive to me. I wanted to grip and hurt her breasts, spank her firm ass until it glowed red and she was unable to sit down. The only pleasure I blowjob could imagine deriving from her now was that in causing her pain, breaking Hardcore her down into a mess of tears and bruises. I wanted to hear her cry and plead for a mercy I knew I would be unable to grant her right now. “The difference, Rachel, is that you DON’T HAVE ANY POWER HERE.” I had lost my cool, collected (if only just) manner and was now screaming at her as she cowered further against the couch. She made to run for the door, but I caught her by the arm, throwing her back down. Her back hit the side of the sofa and she landed painfully on the ground, scurrying away from me. “HOW DARE YOU BRING MY WIFE INTO THIS?” Crab-walking away from me, she hit the wall and curled into the fetal position. I gripped her upper arms, pulling her to her feet in front of me. She kept her head down, unable to meet my eyes. I shook her, her body whipping about like a ragdoll in my hands. She still wouldn’t meet my gaze, so Daddy I slammed her back against the wall, then a second and third time. Furious that she wouldn’t look at me, I grabbed her throat, forcing her back against the wall, her eyes finally on mine. “Please,” she sobbed. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just want this to end.” “Continue.” Confusion spread across her face, muscle momentarily stopping her tears. “Continue what?” She was a mess. Her face was puffy from crying, her hair wild, her clothes disheveled. “Finish the story.” “Wha-what story? I don’t- “ “Tell me what else you learned.” Silence. I almost snorted laughing so hard. “Yeh’re hemmin’ and hawin’.” Angus pointed at Brandon accusingly, a piece of shrimp dangling from his chopsticks. I nodded my head and rested back on the seat…my dress now above my knees. Finally, she observed: “Brad, maybe you need to check out under my bottoms, too. Shari cried. She paused and asked Hardcore if I meant a little while ago when Amy and I both ate Emily's shit. She loved his scent and his gentle touch. I handed Maddie the riding crop laying nearby, bareback completing her “Domme” persona. “Hand me the knife.” Sanchez complied. “I like bad girls, good girls, even some down right bitches. “But I need more from your slut-body. I figure, if we are quiet, we could have sex at the top of that.” I point at the large blowjob wooden castle/play area. As she began, I could hear that the ladies had reappeared at our residence and not found me around. She was well aware of how debased that action was, but she had been so thoroughly fucked that she didn’t care. Daddy Guys I passed in the hallway all shot me big grins. Try as he might Newlyn could not keep himself from cuming much longer. Time to leave. My head fell backward, completing the exaggerated bow of my back, and I stared rapturously at the man muscle who forced such awful delights so deep within, the man would had begotten me life, now ravaging my body and mind. He could not believe he was standing here.