Dirty Harry and his sex slave

Harry was in the den, reading, when it started. She came in, and sat down next to him on the couch. “I’m ready,” she said. “For what?” he asked. “Everything.” “Everything,” he thought “What…had she changed her mind?” He looked at her, and asked, “Everything? Are you sure?” She tilted her head down, covering her eyes with her hands. “Yes everything. All of it. No matter what. Absolutely.” He reached out and pulled her chin up, her hands fell down to her lap, and he saw the embarrassment on her face. He forced himself to use an even voice, “I need to know. I have to ask. Are you sure?” She looked him right in the eye, surer now. “Yes. I’m sure. Do it all. Whatever you want.”

“You have a safeword–” “–I won’t use it!” “I want you to.” “I don’t. Do it! Make me your slave. Dammit Harry, I want you do to this!” She jerked her head to the side, angry. He noticed she was in tears. He held her by her shoulders. She turned to face him again and he looked into in her eyes, felt the energy flowing from her. She was serious. What had brought about this major change? Did he really believe it? Harry thought about it and decided to see how far he could push her, how serious she _really_ was. “Strip,” he said. “Now?” “Yes, Now! Strip!” She smiled at him, and slowly began unbuttoning her blouse. First one, then the next, swaying back and forth, teasing him. He reached out and grabbed her wrist hard. “I said, strip. I meant STRIP. I want you out of those clothes, ASAP! None of this showgirl striptease stuff. When I want that, I’ll tell you.” She leaned back, surprised, and looked at him with a little fear in her eyes. Harry took a deep breath wondering what he’d gotten into. “Strip, ” he repeated, calmer. “I won’t say it again.” She quickly got out of her clothes, leaving them strewn about her feet on the floor. He pulled her onto his lap, inspecting her. He reached out and pinched one nipple, then mauled her other breast. She gasped in surprise, then in lust. She smiled at him again, and wiggled her ass on his lap. Did she still think this was a game? Could he handle it if it wasn’t? “Stand.” His command was simple, and she obeyed quickly. He patted her on the behind. “Go make me dinner.” “Wha..” “You said anything right?” She nodded. “Well I want dinner.” She turned to go, and he said, “Oh… Make some for yourself too.” She reddened and headed into the kitchen. As she walked out of the room, he put his head in his hands, covering his eyes, and felt the waves of lust, desire, power and fear wash over him. Did she know what she was asking of him? How could she not? They’d talked about it for hours, days…. He remembered that time in the car, when they had first started dating… “Why won’t you, Anne? I went down on you, why won’t you suck my cock? What’s the difference?” “Good girls don’t do that.’ “Oh, but it’s OK for their boyfriends, huh?” Silence from her. “Fine,” he said, zipping up his pants. Later, that same night, at home, on top of her, thrusting, her legs on his shoulders, pushing her down, folding her in half. His hands holding hers down. He held her pinned under him as he rammed his cock forcefully into her. “Yes,” she cried, panting. And the time he’d tied her down, spread-eagle to the bed and driven her wild with feather, finger and tongue. “I like the bondage,” she said, afterward, still tied to the bed. “I like the control,” he’d said whispering into her ear. “I want to tie you down with words.” He slid his hand around her breast. “I want you not to move because that’s what I want, not because ropes hold you there.” Fingering her nipple. “I want you to be mine forever.” She shivered and said, “Fuck me now.” Later, talking about it. “Control,” she said. “Yes,” he’d said. “Under my complete control.” “What would I have to do?” she asked. “Whatever I wanted.” “Anything? Slit my wrists? Shoot a puppy?” He chuckled. “Yes, if I asked. But then… you should know I wouldn’t ask for that.” “Sex?” “Uh huh, whatever I want,” he smiled. She wagged her eyebrows, “Anal sex?” “I said whatever I want,” he grinned. She smiled back slyly. She paused, “What about sucking your cock?” “Oh, definitely!” Her eyes wide, defensive now, “You’d ask that of me? You know I won’t–” “If you want to do this the serious way, then you’ll have a choice. You can do what I say or end it with a safeword.” “I don’t want it that strict,” she said vehemently. “Well…Otherwise it’s just a game of submission, like everything else we’ve done.” “No,” she said. “I won’t do it.” “I know.” She’d looked him in the eye then, trying to judge his mood. Harry rubbed his chin, and returned his attention to the present, and he ran his hands through his hair, wondering, what had changed? Was this just another game to her? “God,” he thought, “I love her. If this is just a game…I’ll lose her. How will I know if I go too far if she won’t use a safeword? Or I could just not do this at all… But the truth is, I want to, I want to push her as far as I can. The thought of her on her knees between his legs ran through him, the lust and power overwhelming him momentarily. Knowing that she was HIS, not just as a lover…but in every way. Imagining her velvet mouth on his cock. Harry shook his head trying to get the seductive image out of his head. He knew she wouldn’t do it. Just knowing that, his anger at her built in him. Why hadn’t she gone down on him in the car? Or later at home? He hit the arm of the couch with his fist. Hard. Another deep breath. He shut his eyes and calmed himself down. God, how he wanted her. He got up and walked into the kitchen. She was preparing dinner, stirring something on the oven. As he watched her, looking at her naked form, her naked ass, he felt his cock harden more. “She’s mine,” he thought, “She gave *herself* to me. I can have her anytime I want.” A shudder of power passed through him, as he walked up behind her at the stove. He reached around and squeezed her tits, his crotch rubbing against her ass. She gasped, “Hi….” He twisted her nipples with one hand and pushed his pants down with the other. His hard cock slid between her ass cheeks; he began riding them, rubbing his cock in the cleft of her ass. He moved his hands down to her hips, and nipped at her neck. “Keep stirring — you don’t want to spoil dinner,” he threatened. She stiffened and put one hand down to balance against the stove, the other hand stirring the stew. He reached up and grabbed the vegetable oil they kept beside the stove. He pulled back and wet his dick with the oil, then moved forward finding her asshole. They’d done this a lot, so she was loose enough for him to slide right into her. Harry powerfully thrust into her ass, pushing her against the oven’s metal bar, while she held herself up, trying to keep from being pushed onto the heated stove while also trying to keep stirring the stew. Harry exulted in this woman, his woman, one hand holding herself up over a hot stove as he blithely took her tight ass. He rocked in and out of her ass, enjoying the feeling. Something was off, he thought as he shook his head. She didn’t say anything–no complaints, no requests for more–just silence, taking it. Perhaps…but no, she’d said anything, right? He reached around and cupped her breasts with his hands, fondling the nipples between his fingers. She gasped and pushed back against his cock, driving him wild. Her response drove all doubt from his mind as he started thrusting with abandon, in and out of her ass. Just as he was about to come, he pulled out and spurted on her. He reached down and pulled up his pants. He looked over into the stew pot. “Hmmm smells good. Almost done?” She looked at him in shock. He could tell what was going on in her mind; he could see the wetness forming in her eyes. She was wondering why he just took her, why he came on her instead of inside, and why he wasn’t cleaning it up. But she wasn’t saying anything, wasn’t safewording, wasn’t objecting at all. Hell, she’d even pushed back while he’d taken her. “Well?” he asked again. “Yes, it’ll be done in a few minutes.” “Master.” “What?” “‘Yes, it’ll be done in a few minutes, *master*’,” he said. “Oh. Yes, master, it’ll be done in a few minutes.” “Good. Clean that shit off your ass before you bring me my dinner.” He walked out to the bathroom, and quietly cleaned himself off. He sat on the john, replaying it in his mind. God that had felt good. He hadn’t even planned it, just saw her ass there, and boom…he was…raping her. He put his head in his hands, shaking as his conscience kicked in. He’d seen the tears in her eyes, after all. Before he’d left the kitchen, he’d caught her eyes, and seen the silent tears there. Then he’d seen the ones that had fallen on her cheeks. She hadn’t said anything. Why? Was she that serious about this? A wave of lust passed over Harry, as he realized how callous it felt. Ignoring the woman. Taking the body. Still, though, it felt…violent. And good, so good. Harry took a deep breath, and tried to relax. His cock was already hard again. He went back out into the den, and sat waiting for her to bring dinner. He tried flipping through the television channels, but his cock, pressing against the zipper of his jeans, kept bringing his mind back to the nude woman in the kitchen. His lover. Slave. Sex Object. His right hand idly rubbed his hardon through his jeans. When she brought dinner he wouldn’t let her eat. Instead, he put his arm around her, and slowly fed her stew with his free hand. She was warm and sensual next to him, curled up in the crook of his arm, while he finished his dinner. She was completely dependent on him now. After dinner they kissed, and snuggled together, he caressed her breasts and pussy lips, keeping her aroused and warm. “I love you, Master,” she said, whispering into his ear. He slid his hand down to her breasts, cupping them, weighing them in his hands, feeling their sensual beauty. “I want to feel these around my cock, slave. Get between my legs and rub my cock with your tits.” She smiled at him and slid down in front of the couch, between his legs. She reached up and undid the snap on his jeans, then pulled the zipper down. When she reached to pull the jeans down, he lifted himself up. She grabbed his briefs and pulled the whole thing down to his ankles. She grabbed his cock with her left hand and jacked him off a couple of times. He looked down at her, and motioned her up with his hand. She smiled, took her breasts in her hands and wrapped them around his cock. Shoving them together, surrounding his cock, she slowly moved up and down. “Yes,” he said. “That’s it.” Harry leaned back and closed his eyes. He concentrated on the feeling of her breasts around his cock, and the knowledge of *why* she was doing it. He felt his cock twitch, and pressed his pelvis into her body. He pressed a few more times, shoving his cock between her tits, then he consciously stopped, and put his hands on her shoulders. “Stop.” he said. He looked her in the eyes and said, “It’s time.” “Wha–?” “You knew this was coming. Suck my cock, slave.” “No…”, she said desperately, trying to twist away, to avoid it, but his grip on her shoulders was too strong. “She can get out of this anytime she wants, ” he thought. “All she has to do is safeword.” “Yes,” he commanded. He started pushing her down, getting her head close to his cock. He wasn’t going to have a slave who wouldn’t suck cock. She kept trying to twist, and shift out of his way. He kept pressing down with his right hand, and put his left hand around her head, pulling it down to his crotch. “Lick it, suck it in, slave.” She twisted her head away, and he grabbed her head with both hands, one on each side of her head, forcing her down. “Do it.” She just glared up at him, teeth clenched in anger. He quickly reached down and pinched one of her nipples, hard. “Ow!” she exclaimed, but it was already too late. His left thumb was in between her teeth. “Bite down, and I hurt you worse, bitch.” He pulled her mouth wider with this left hand, and put his right hand behind her neck, pulling her head to his crotch. He shifted his pelvis and slid his cock between her lips for the first time ever. He sighed, god her mouth was warm and tight. “Suck it, bitch.” She glared up at him still; her eyes rolled up to look him in the face. “I mean it. I want suction, and you are going to do it, or else!” He brutally twisted her left nipple by way of example. She started sucking. He moved his hands back up to her head, and held it tight. He started humping her face. Slowly at first, then more, forcing his cock into her mouth, down her throat. She was pummeling him with her fists by this time. He worked a foot out of his jeans, and slid it between her legs, caressing her pussy and groin with it. “Stop hitting me, bitch, and I’ll let you enjoy this. Not that it matters, so long as I enjoy it.” All the while through this speech he kept thrusting into her mouth, and caressing her pussy with his sock-covered foot. Her glaring eyes dropped, and she dug her fingers into his thighs, but stopped hitting him. He nodded to himself and kept fucking her face. He stopped moving for a moment, and settled down on the couch. Then he started moving her head, using it to jack off his cock. God it felt so good, if only she’d just done this for him. “OH…my,” he thought. He leaned back and closed his eyes, still moving her head up and down his cock, slowly moving it faster and faster. Again the image formed in his mind of him controlling and *using* her. He felt the power and lust build in him again; soon he was thrusting into her mouth again. Moving, thrusting into her mouth, sliding her head back and forth, violently using her face. Fucking it! At some point he realized she was rocking her pelvis back and forth against his foot. Getting off on it! He started thrusting more and more quickly, until he knew he was going to come, he pulled her head to him, pushing his cock one last time down her throat and came in spurts. He held her head there as he felt his erection slowly subside, then he released her, and slid out. When he let go of her, she fell to her side, and curled up, crying. Harry leaned back, exhausted, weak from the sex. He listened as quiet sobs racked her form, and he wondered to himself, “What have I done?” He reached down to touch her, and she flinched, just a bit at his touch. Thoughts of his love for her flooded his mind, of the pleasant times they spent together. The joy they had in each other. And he’d just practically raped her twice. Treated her as nothing but a toy, a thing to get off on–to control. He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes, blinking back tears. Harry got up, and went to bed. As he stripped for bed, he thought about what he’d done. He knew she had the option to back out, but it still felt wrong. Why had she done this if she was going to fight so hard? Why did she put him through it? When he pulled off his socks, he felt the wetness of his right sock. He lifted it to his nose and smelled her juices and come. He shook his head, and curled up in bed. Later that night he lay in bed. He couldn’t sleep, despite his knowledge of her excitement. The feelings of lust and power that drove him to take her violently and forcefully kept him awake, disturbing him. Curled into a ball, slow tears ran down his face, dripping off his nose. “God,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.” She must have been in the room then, he felt her curl up behind him, putting a comforting arm around him, caressing his chest. “Don’t be,” she said. “Wh…Why did you make me force you?” he whispered, the words just barely coming out around his sobs. “I had to know. I had to know what you would do, and how it would make you feel. How it would make me feel.” “I love you so much,” he said, trying to control his voice. “I know.” She paused, and said “I just hope you can forgive me.” “Forgive *you*,” he said, “I was the one…the one who…*took* you.” “Harry, you know I’m not stupid. Don’t you think I expected it? At least a little?” He rolled over and looked her in the eyes. “But why?” “My fear, I guess, I knew you wanted it…I thought I wanted it.” She rubbed the tears from his cheek. “And I truly know how you feel about it, and me now.” “I love you,” he said simply, gazing into her eyes. “I love you, too Harry.” She took a deep breath and, looking back into his eyes, said, “And I’m yours forever. I trust you completely.” “Is that trust really placed wisely, Anne?” He whispered. “Yes. Yes it is.” He cried for a few more minutes, holding her tightly in his arms, then he sighed heavily, releasing the stress. “Well, Harry?” “I’m not sure I can. I’m not sure I can treat you so shallowly.” She caressed his chest, ” I know you were excited — you came twice, hard, in a short time. So did I. I’m not sure I want to give that up.” “But you were so quiet…” “I was mad at you. Afraid. That was part of it, I guess. I realized as I sat in the den thinking, that you didn’t really hurt me. But you did take me. And I came.” More secure now, he nodded, “I understand. Still want to do this, Anne?” “Yes.” “Then get on the floor, bitch. That’s where the slave sleeps.” “Tomorrow,” he thought, as his girlfriend–now slave–got on the floor, “is going to be a very good day.”