Breaking Ashley (BDSM/MASO)

It’s ridiculously hot for June. The weatherman said it was supposed to be mild today, but the Georgia sun bares down on me as I walk the dusty dirt road behind Mr. Reed’s farm. My cut off jean shorts and my bra, buried under my loose tank top, are soaked with sweat. I guess I should have tried to get a ride from someone, but that would have taken time and Mr. Reed doesn’t like it when I’m late for our meetings, especially since we have to plan them carefully so that we don’t get caught.

A lot of people know what I do and Mr. Reed, being a proper man in town, doesn’t want gossip. No one cares what poor white trash like me gets up to, but the hoity toity would have a cow if they knew I was consorting with one of their own. It was one thing to be a common whore, but the whole town knows my Pa has been selling me off for a dime since I was old enough to drive. That kind of sinfulness scares them, and Mr. Reed is a church going man. He doesn’t want his reputation tarnished by the town whore.

The Reeds are the richest farmers in the county…hell, probably this half of the state, and Mr. Reed is a real southern gentleman. He wouldn’t even touch me until I was older, unlike most of the men in my life. My Pa had been trying to get him to fuck me for years, him being rich and all Pa figured he could upcharge (and the blackmail was good for leverage), but Mr. Reed would just come into my bedroom after giving Pa the money and sit and stare at me for what felt like hours before leaving without a word, like he was waiting for something. Sometimes he would ask me about my life, the things I liked…and he would always leave an extra $50 on my nightstand table and tell me not to tell my Pa- it was my money and he wanted me to keep it. Eventually, though, the closer I got to legal, a week from my eighteenth birthday, in fact, he started asking me to undress. And then to touch myself. He was very specific, and kind of demanding. At first, he wanted me to take my bra off and slowly and gently run my fingers across my nipples. He liked that they were pink and supple, he had said. Then he wanted me to touch my pussy, directing me exactly how to do it. Before him, I had been with lots of guys…old, young, fat, skinny…none of them had ever made me cum. My first orgasm was under his direction and every Saturday evening since then he would stop by the house before my Pa got home, park his pick-up truck behind the shed so no one could see and come into my bedroom. He would sit in a chair in the corner and direct me to finger my pussy until I came. Sometimes he would make me stop when I was close, and sometimes he would make me keep going after I had cum so he could watch me writhe with the intensity of touching myself when I was too sensitive.

But today was different. At our last meeting he had told me he would no longer come to my house and that I was to meet him at an old barn on one of his many farms. I was to walk there since it was only about a mile from my house and to tell no one I was coming. He gave me some directions, a time and said not to be late.

So here I am, staring at a nondescript looking trail cut in the pine woods not far from my house. It looks like it hasn’t been used in a while, the brush a little overgrown but the shade is nice and cool so I don’t mind the weeds licking my thighs as I push them aside. It isn’t a long trail, I’m only a few feet deep into the pines before I see the old barn. Its in pretty good shape, a few briars growing here and there, but all its weathered wooden walls and doors are intact. I notice there are no windows- unusual for a barn. I casually approach the large door and pull it open, peering inside.

Its a bit dusty, mostly empty and dimly lit by some battery powered lamps placed strategically on old bits of furniture. I spot Mr. Reed standing in a middle clearing of the large room. His arms are crossed over his chest. He is in his late 40s, but very handsome for his age with blonde curly hair and inquisitve blue eyes. I always felt like his wife must have been a prude. She was the homecoming queen three years in a row in high school, is still gorgeous and well known in the community. Yet here he is with me. I had been told I was pretty before, but I didn’t look like the girls in the magazines. I was tan with dirty blonde hair, big brown eyes and a little on the chunky side. My breasts and hips were always well developed for my age.

I step over the threshold.

“Close the door.” He orders calmly. I oblige. The door creaks eerily and I have some trouble fitting it back in its frame.

“Come closer and then turn around.” Mr. Reed barks another order at me.

I did as I was told. This wasn’t unusual, him barking orders at me. I feel myself grow excited. My pussy throbs ever so slightly. I hadn’t let myself admit that I was hoping this was the day he would fuck me. Mr. Reed was in my head these last few weeks. I couldn’t touch myself without seeing his face, without hearing his voice coaching me to orgasm…but even then I couldn’t do it. I could only cum if he was telling me what to do. I desperately needed *him* to touch me, to run *his* fingers along my nipples, to have *his* hands rub my clit until I came.

I feel him step closer behind me, his work boots stirring dust up around my heels. He takes my wrists and pulls them behind my back. I feel something cold press against them and before I can comprehend what is happening he has me in cuffs, my arms above my head and tethered to a hook and chain I hadn’t seen hanging from the rafters. How could I have missed it?

“What…” I begin, but before I can finish my protest he stuffs what feels like lacy cloth in my mouth and pulls a pillow case over my head. Everything is dark now. My heart races.

“Don’t make a sound.” He orders. His voice is steady and calm, but something cold and hard in his words makes me tremble. I nod.

“Before we go any farther, I want to make one thing clear.” He says. I feel him moving around my body, carefully cutting off strips of my clothes with what must be scissors. “You are a whore. A dirty, white trash whore.” He continues as, section by section, my clothing falls to the floor and my bare breasts and aching pussy are exposed to the cool, dark air of the barn. “And now you are mine.” I begin to tremble.

I attempt to beg through the cloth in my mouth, but it comes out in muffled cries. A sharp pain ripples through my body and my ass cheeks burn as a clapping sound echoes through the barn. I scream out in pain, my eyes watering from the sting. He hit me with something hard and cold. Despite the pain and fear, I feel my clit swell, throbbing with my panicked heartbeat. I have the sudden sense that he has been preparing me for this, grooming me for weeks to be his plaything. Part of me trusts him and aches for his touch, for more punishment…but another part of me, the part of me that knew men could be animals when sex was involved, is nervous. I have no control now. I am completely helpless and unsure of whether I like it or if it terrifies me.

“You will not speak unless I ask you too. You will not make a sound or a move unless I give you permission. There will be severe punishment if you do not follow my directions. Nod if you understand.”

I could feel him pacing slowly around me, his eyes moving up and down my naked body. I imagine him drinking in every inch of my milky skin like he always did, with hungry eyes that rested on my full lips, my pink, erect nipples, the deep crevice of my pussy and the curve of my ass. I was parts to him. An assortment of toys he could use to make himself feel good. To feel powerful. My pussy throbs at the thought, my clit swelling between my lips.

“We are going to play a game of truth or lies.” He says, “I am going to ask you a question, and you are going to answer. If I think you are lying, I will punish you. If I think you are telling the truth, I won’t hurt you.”

“Yes.” I nod.

“You will call me sir!”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ve seen you around town with that Smith boy a lot lately. Do you let him touch you? Do you let him run his dirty fingers deep in your pussy…” He was close to me now, his breath on my ear as he talked, his strong fingers between the crevice of my pussy, stroking my hard mound. It’s slick and warm against his chilly fingers. He presses his fingers a bit more firmly against my engorged clit. I grind my hips into his fingers, my pussy pulses for more, but as he speaks he presses harder and begins to rub back and forth inside the crease, slowly but roughly inserting his fingers into my soaking hole and pulling them out to smash my clit against my pelvis. “I bet you let him do all kinds of things to you, you fucking whore.” He is breathing heavy now, and the pressure from his fingers are intense. I feel his forearm flex with the effort. He is rubbing so *hard* and my clit starts to burn and sting. It hurts and I fight back tears. “No..nnnooo” I say weakly.

“You’re lying!” He accuses and doubles down, kicking one leg between mine as I squirm under the pressure of his fingers. My legs open, “I told you I would punish you if you lied!!” He angles his arm in a way that allows him to force four of his fingers into my pussy. I cry out, but he continues, twisting and rearranging his fingers until I feel my pussy lips stretch wide. It feel as if I will rip open, my bruised clit throbbing and my wet pussy searing and raw as the lips stretch over his knuckles. My legs shake beneath me, threatening to lose their balance.

“Almost there…” He soothes and I feel sudden relief as my pussy closes around his hand, my lips hugging his wrist.

A moan escapes me, and I feel ashamed. My nipples and clit engorged as Mr. Reed slowly and methodically, almost gently, pumps his fist deep into my pussy. I feel the wetness dripping down over his arm, “Let it out, that’s a good girl,” he whispers, sliding his other hand along the curve of my ass. I can tell me likes it. Another moan escapes me, and another. He pumps faster. “Come on, let it go.” At first I don’t understand, but I suddenly have an intense urge to release and, though I try, I cant help it. My muscles relaxed and I feel the warm liquid pouring out of my me, running down his arm and onto the ground.

“Oh yes! Let it out. You nasty whore!” He pulls his fist from my pussy. “It’ll be my turn later.” He says as he catches my piss in his cupped hand and rubs it across my tits.

I collapse then, breathing erratically, all my weight on the chain. I didn’t orgasm, but feeling his fist deep inside of me, feeling the piss flow out of my body- I felt feral. Wild. My heart beats wild and my pussy…my poor pussy…it stings and aches and begs for more…and for less.

“We aren’t done yet…” He pulls the pillow case from around my head and I see him, with that familiar look in his eyes. He looks like he could devour me. He moves to lower the chain from a pully hooked to a nearby wall. “On your knees!” He commands as he gives my chain some slack. I do as I am told, relieved to rest my still weak legs.

He approaches, positioning him self in front of me. I am eye-level with his cock. It’s bulging against his khakis. I have never seen it before.

“Do you let the other guys piss on you?” He asks. He is unclasping his belt slowly. I nod yes. I had, before, let one of my clients piss on me and I didn’t want to lie to him.

“I believe you have,” he laughs. He pulls his belt from his waist and latches it around my neck. I start to shake my head no, but he sees my protest before I can even speak and slaps me hard. My head spins and the taste of blood fills my mouth. “You wont tell me no, you fucking bitch! I’m your goddamn master!” He pulls the belt tight and I feel the air leave my lungs.

“Open your mouth,” he commands. I gasp as he loosens the belt, “And don’t fucking move or I tighten the belt again. Your being punished for your insolence!” He pulls his cock out then, rock hard and pulsating. Its the biggest I’ve ever seen and my stomach churns at what I know is coming. He doesn’t hesitate…he isn’t gentle…I am being punished for the ultimate offense, for saying no. He shoves his cock deep in my throat and fucks my mouth hard and fast. I can’t breath. I gag and tears stream freely down my face.

“Oh god!’ He moans, slowing himself down to a gentle thrust. “Suck it!” He says gently, and I do. My pussy begins aching again. My lips are stretched around his solid cock and I like it. I suck, running my tongue along his shaft. “That’s such a good girl.” He coos. “You’re my good girl.” He moves my hair from my face and caresses my cheek. “Can I do anything I want?” He asks and I nod, meeting his eyes.

“I have one more question.” He pulls out my mouth, webs of saliva connect my lips to the underside of his head. “Do you let them fuck you in the ass?” He asks, cupping my chin.

I shake my head no and begin to cry. My body is a mess of confusion. My pussy throbs, it wants him. I want him to hurt me, to make me feel good, to make him feel good…but I am scared and I feel like the dirty whore I know I am. He is breaking me down to nothing more than a collection of warm holes to make his dick feel good and I want to let him.

“I believe you.” He say. He moves behind me, bending me forward slightly, and pushes his enormous dick inside of my virgin asshole. Nothing had hurt like this hurt. The burning pain ripples through my body and I sobbed and cry out. He just pushed harder and tells me to let it out, to cry. He tells me he knows it hurts, “But its so tight on my cock. Isn’t this want you wanted, to feel me inside of you. Your ass is going to make me cum. Be a good girl and let me.” He repeats this, telling me I am his good whore as he slowly pumps his dick into my ass. My ears ring and my head rushes with the pain. He was enjoying himself, he moans and compliments me on my tight asshole some more. “Tell me.” He says, and I know what he wants.

“It hu-urts,” I sob as my body goes limp. I feel his dick stiffen more at that, and I know he likes it. He reaches around with both hands and grabs my sore nipples and pinches them until I cry out.

After a few minutes, it starts to feel good, and a few moans escape me. His experts hands find my tender clit and rub it until its raw. He more I moan the harder he thrusts until he is fucking my ass wildly and I orgasm in waves that rock me. And again and again and again I orgasm until I am exhausted, my body aching, my pussy burning.

Finally he lets out a moan and a shudder, pulls his dick out of my ass with a sickening sound and stand over me as he pisses all over my sore breasts. He gets dressed quickly and unhooks me from the cuffs. “You are not to see any other clients. Only me. You’ll have no need of them anymore.” He says, then adds, “and you are to move out of your father’s house. He’s a trashy piece of shit and an embarrassment.”

I nod and sniff. The surreal feeling I had throughout this meeting was fleeting now, and while it had been bubbling under the surface the entire time I now felt a wealth of shame and guilt flood me. Tears flow fresh again, but not from my aching knees or all the stinging, raw parts of me he had used, but because I had allowed myself to be used like that, and embarrassed that I had liked it.

He looks at me then, his eyes a bit softer now. I am still on my knees, massaging my wrists where the cuffs had dug into my skin.

“Don’t be ashamed. You knew what this was. You knew the second I put those cuffs on your wrist what was happening. Don’t act like some naive virgin. I’ve watched you get off on being dominated for weeks now.” He isn’t being harsh, his voice is level and matter of fact. Then he adds, with unmistakable compassion, “People like us don’t find our match very often. We have a particular set of needs that should be met, and most people don’t have the gumption to meet them. I knew what you were the second I met you. Like knows like.”

I wipe my eyes, some of my soreness dissipating. He reaches in his back pocket and pulls out his wallet before holding out a wad of hundreds in front of me. I hesitate, almost rebellious in not taking the money. “Don’t be stupid.” He spits, “take the money.”

I take it with a shaky hand. It was a substantial amount, at least a few hundred. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you here next week. Come prepared.” And with that he leaves me on the dirty barn floor, kneeling in a puddle of piss and cum. I collapse, stinking and not caring about how I was going to walk home, naked, without being noticed.

I lay here for a long time, letting my body rest. Slowly, uncertainly I take a deep breath and slip my fingers between my legs, finding my clit. Its swollen and raw, but I rub it anyways, fighting the pain. My legs find themselves wide open, my naked body writs in the muddy mess right there on the floor. My mind goes over everything that had happened. I rub harder. I can hear his voice calling me a slut. I rub harder still. Then I think of how his dick had felt in my ass and I press down on my clit until it burns. And then I cum, a rush of fluid seeping out onto the floor, my body writhes and jerks, the ecstasy filling me to my fingertips.

I know I will return every time he asks me to. I know I will let him do whatever he wants. And I know I will like it.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/fubhrq/breaking_ashley_bdsmmaso