Brooke’s tale part b

(synopsis : brooke, a college girl, goes to a party, only to be dominated and enslaved. on her way back, she is raped by the gas station hand. )

i finally reached my place at 3 in the morning. my body, especially my ass, ached. as i moved in, the bottle slipped out. although a part of me felt relieved, another wanted it back in. so i put it back, as naturally as a pad. the glass had become cold after falling, anf the chilly feeling made me horny again. so i sat there, gently pushing the object in and out, the mix of cum and juice making it easy to push all the way in. my hands went to my breasts, squeezing the well abused glands as i tried to reach the nth orgasm of the day. the funnel dug deeper as i rocked on the seat. i squeezed my ass muscles, taking in the plastic thing that 2 hours ago would have seemed abhorrent.

finally i came, pushing the bottle until only the tip remained, and my nipples felt like they would die. as i came, images of tina, the collar and the gasman flashed by. somehow it all felt so right. like a story with a happy ending. like a slut that’s degraded and enslaved.

this last orgasm took whatever energy was left in me. i fell on the dashboard, hearing the plonk of the bottle on the floor. my head hit the steering, and i passed out.

i woke to my phone buzzing. it was carla. i groggily answered.

“Brooke is that you? whereve you been? i slept at a friend’s place. tina said she’ll tell you to take the car. where are you? “

i answered normally, and she hung up. little did she know what had happened. would i tell her? i never hid anything from her, not even my vibrators. i was spares the decision by a stray cat staring at me from the driveway.

i got out. it was impossible to keep the bottle in and walk, but the funnel stayed. i opened the door, and walked in. the house was dark. i had to change before she returned. but i didn’t want to.

dragging myself to the bedroom, i stripped off my skimpy clothes and went to bed. then i noticed the collar. should i take it off? then again, what’s the use of a collar if there’s no chain. my mind went to a chain that clara had left her friends dog when they went on holiday.

taking the chain, i put the head in the loop, and checked myself in the mirror. tina had written slut on my forehead, and fuck on my cheeks, with arrows pointing to my mouth. no wonder the gas guy had taken me like a whore.

so there i stood, my face decorated like a pornstar, and a leash dangling from my collar. but something was missing. wasn’t a slave to have nipple clamps ? maybe i should buy some. and some rope. and……

suddenly, i felt a tug on the chain. looking up, i saw carla staring at me, amusement and surprise written all over her sweet face. her smile widened, and i couldn’t help know why she was so popular in college. with her 32-26-34 figure and face of a dirty angel, she fitted every man’s wet dream perfectly. only now, i was the one getting wet.

” i always knew you were a sub” she said.

huh? what did that mean? i had only found out about 3 hours ago. carla suddenly reached out, and squeezed my flesh. her nails burnt where tina had scraped them, and gasman had bitten.she noticed the damage. her expression changed. i would have expected concern. but found a sneer instead.

” they used you well didn’t they? ” she smirked. “sadly, I’m not a lesbo, so you’ll have to enjoy life yourself ”

i knew that already. she had a steady bf, and a long waiting list behind that. but why did she think i wanted her? as i lay in bed, wild ideas went through my head. what would it really be ike? carla was hot, she was naughty (we talked everything ) and she knew what i was now.

just then, i saw her walk in wearing only a bra and shorts, and lie down beside me. we had slept likr this for ages, but tonight, everything seemed different. sexually different.

she seemed oblivious to my new feelings, anf soon started snoring.