Emma's Summer of Submission

by JJ Argus

  OMG!

  It was even more astonishing a sensation than I'd felt the other day, with two big cocks pumping inside my quivering abdomen – one of them real!

  Jacob roughly squeezed my breasts, even while Raven sucked and chewed my nipples, and the world just seemed to narrow to this dark, crackling river of liquid heat and fire as I let myself sink into the role of their slave, their toy, their bitch!

  It didn't take long from there for the sexual fever to ignite inside me and take hold of my mind and body. My inhibitions melted away and I became totally fixed on the dark pleasure growing within me, on the incredible wild sensations coming from riding Raven's 'cock' while Jacob shoved his up my ass!

  The orgasm, when it exploded inside me, was all-consuming. I lost control of my body and my mind! My body writhed and bucked frantically as I cried out in animal heat, the pleasure overwhelming my senses!

  Jacob cursed in excitement while Raven cursed in contempt, and both of them continued to roughly use my body as I twisted and thrashed and convulsions tore through me. Oh my God it was rapture! And what did I care of the bitch was biting my nipple!

  I rode her cock with a sense of elation every time I plunged down its length, crying out as Jacob thrust his cock deep into my ass!

  Chapter Eight

  By now you might be saying to yourself “This girl is a slut.”

  Well, I was too. Let's face it, the things I'd done in the previous couple of days were pretty wild and slutty. I couldn't really regret them, though. They had been too wild and intense and thrilling. The only thing that was troubling is how I'd let others kind of, well, dominate me, order me around. That wasn't how I thought of myself, as like, some helpless bitch.

  On the other hand, I had to face facts. I had wanted to do what they'd 'ordered' me to do, so in that sense why would I resist? Plus, being tied up and having them make me do it took away the need I otherwise would have felt to put up a show of resistance. You know, to show them I wasn't a cheap slut.

  So was that what I was now? Just a slut who'd let anyone do anything to her?

  I didn't think so. I'd let people do what I wanted them to do anyway. That was kind of a different story. They might see things differently, of course. But I kind of wanted them to. I wanted them to think I had been... well, kind of pressured or forced into doing such slutty things. I sure didn't want them to think I had been enthusiastic about it!

  Because then I'd be not just a slut but a kinky pervert! I'd rather have people think I could be bullied into stuff than think I was a kinky perve! That might not make a lot of sense but that was how I felt!

  Anyway I'd be leaving for college soon, right? Better to get this sort of kinky stuff out of my system, and, become more uh, sophisticated about sex first. After Jacob it was gonna take more effort for the guys at Texas A&M to impress this little freshman!

  Man he had a great cock! And he sure knew what to do with it! Too bad he had a bitch girlfriend. Raven was just too scary to want to have more to do with her!

  Sex slave!

  What a bizarre and darkly exciting concept! I mean, to be someone's sex slave! To have to obey them and have sex with them and anyone they wanted and everything! To be... tortured or whipped for misbehaving!

  I mean, not that I would ever allow that given no sane person likes pain, but the idea, the mental image was sure hot! Raven using that belt on my ass had sure hurt! Then again it hadn't stopped me from having a huge orgasm!

  “Emma!”

  I rolled my eyes, then rolled up off the bed and went to the bedroom door and opened it.

  “What?” I asked in a long-suffering voice.

  “Come to the head of the stairs.”

  I muttered to myself but stepped out into the hall and looked over the railing and down at my mother.

  “Sara's babysitter called in sick, and she and Brad have tickets to the theater tonight.”

  “So?”

  “So she needs an emergency babysitter.”

  “Have fun.”

  She scowled up at me.

  “You are going down the street and taking care of April for them.”

  “Aw, mom!”

  “She's done a lot for us and – .”

  “For you.”

  “And it's not like you have any big plans anyway. You can watch TV as easily there as here.”

  “April is a brat.”

  “April is two years old!”

  “She's still a brat.”

  “And she'll be in bed by the time you get there.”

  I wasn't super fond of the Bradsons to be honest. They were as goofily liberal as my parents and didn't like my sarcastic little comments when they came over. Nor did I enjoy babysitting. But it was easier than putting up with my mother in a bad mood.

  Which is why I was up the block in their Victorian makeover ignoring the cutesy pie chintz and fake antique furniture while I watched TV and played on my phone. That got boring, after a bit, so I went exploring. Hey, everything in a house is open to be inspected when you leave a babysitter alone with nothing to do.

  I didn't even have to look in on April because they had a camera in her room and put it on the house's wifi. I could just check my damn phone to see her sleeping.

  Not that their house was very interesting. They had lousy taste in overpriced furniture as far as I was concerned. And I sure wasn't interested in poking around in their bedroom drawers to see what I might find. Yech. They were both ancient. I did not want to even think about them having sex. What was with having a baby this late in life? Weirdos. She must be close to forty!

  Bored, I wandered around, opening a door with stairs that led up to the attic. Maybe they had interesting old stuff up there. Probably not, but I was bored. I flicked on the light switch next to the door and then climbed up and found myself in a room which would have made a fantastic loft bedroom.

  The ceilings were high and deeply slanted, of course, so you couldn't even stand up near the walls. But there was plenty of room between them. You could put a big bed there and hmm, a sofa over there... Maybe you could put skylights into the ceiling. I'd seen pictures of that and it had looked cool.

  All they were using the attic for was storage, though. There was an old leather sofa, a couple of wing chairs, a table, and an old desk, along with boxes of old clothes and dishes and assorted knick-knacks. The knick-knacks were interesting, though. Some of them looked pretty old.

  “Who are you?”

  I screamed and spun around to find a strange man standing just by the stairs. I gaped at him for long seconds, then said “Who are you!?”

  “I asked you first,” he said.

  “I-I'm the babysitter!”

  “Ah, and is the babysitter supposed to be snooping in the attic instead of taking care of April?”

  “She's asleep!”

  “How would you know?” he demanded.

  “Because... because I'd hear her. Anyway, I can see her on my phone!” I said.

  He came closer and I backed up warily.

  “And who are you?”

  He was an old guy, like, in his thirties. He was tall and broad-shouldered and looked kind of menacingly... strong.

  “Brad is my older brother,” he said.

  “So you say!”

  He held up a key.”

  “I have a key.”

  “That could be a key for anything!”

  He snorted and looked me up and down in a way I was long familiar with. He was inspecting the goods, and liking what he saw.

  “I bet Sara wouldn't be happy to find you snooping around in the attic instead of looking after April,” he said.

  “I doubt she'd care.”

  I was sure she'd care, but what was she gonna do but not hire me again? Which I could care less about. My mother would be embarrassed, though, and furious at me.

  “What's your name?” he asked.

  “Emma.”

  “Strange name for a girl.”

  “And what's your specia
l name?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “My special name is usually sir to girls your age.”

  That word kind of … triggered me. Because I'd last used it with Jacob!

  I shrugged uncertainly, still wary, wondering what he was going to do. I wasn't really afraid of him or anything, but hey, he could do anything to me here in this attic! Come to think of it, it was hot up here. I was sweating, and had been about to go back downstairs. That triggered the memory of Teagan tying me up in the shed the other day!

  I had a brief thought of him grabbing me and tearing my clothes off and tying me up and doing... nasty things to me. But the wonder of it was that it didn't really scare me so much as turn me on!

  Sex slave!

  I'd put so much thought and fantasy into the idea of me being someone's helpless sex slave that I wasn't really even scared of him doing something like that. In fact, I was bored and the thought was kind of... interesting.

  “I'm eighteen,” I said defiantly.

  “And yet still acting like a bratty teenager,” he said.

  “Oh and I suppose you'd like to punish me,” I said sarcastically.

  It just kind of came out.

  “Well, don't you think you ought to be punished?” he asked with raised eyebrow.

  I shrugged, looking around the place, feeling my heart rate start to pick up. This was crazy! But I was starting to feel this wild sense of... sexual hunger and anticipation!

  No way was I interested in having sex with some old guy, though he was okay looking. But the idea of being... you know, tied up and 'made' to do something, now that was kind of kinky sick! And hot!

  And it wasn't like he would ever tell anyone!

  “Maybe,” I said, shrugging carelessly.

  “The traditional way to punish bratty teenagers is to make them bend over a desk... like that one there, and have their butt strapped,” he said.

  Whoa! What a pervert!

  But the thought filled me with a sudden dark heat!

  “Aren't you worried about April?” I sneered.

  “April is asleep. I checked before coming up here.”

  I snorted. “Such a nice uncle,” I said.

  He smirked at me. “That's a good idea. That can be my special name for you.”

  “What?”

  “You can call me... uncle Derek.”

  Oh wow, what a perve!

  “You're not my uncle.”

  “How convenient.”

  He was backing me against the wall and I put my hand up against his chest to push him back, but I didn't push all that hard. He kissed me. It wasn't a bad kiss, but it didn't exactly excite me. Him cupping and squeezing my breast sent a hot little shudder through my body, though!

  I twisted my head away from his mouth with a sniff of disdain, but I didn't offer up any real resistance. He kissed his way along my throat, his fingers still kneading my breast.

  “Hot, arrogant little brat,” he growled.

  “Oh, I'm so bad, I guess you should spank me, Uncle Derek,” I said with a sneer.

  He glared at me, then grabbed my arm and jerked me away from the wall. He sat down on a chair and before I knew it he had actually yanked me down over his lap!

  “Hey!”

  “Your idea, brat,” he said.

  Crack!

  I yelped as he slapped my bottom, then yelped again as I felt him slip his fingers into the back of my shorts and yank them – and my thong, down over my butt to bunch up around my thighs.

  Crack! Crack! Crack!

  “Ow! Hey! Quit it!” I cried. “That hurts!”

  “That's the punishment, brat!”

  I managed to wriggle out of his grasp and tumble to the floor, then moved to crawl forward before getting to my feet, but he grabbed the bunched-up jeans and yanked my legs out from under me as he pulled them down and off.

  A dark wave of heat – combined with embarrassment and anxiety, spilled through my body as I jumped to my feet. I didn't try to run very hard, though, and he grabbed me, then pushed me against the desk he'd mentioned, bending me over it.

  “This is traditional for a schoolgirl,” he said with a leer.

  I didn't bother to correct him as I gasped in outrage – and heat – when I felt his hand thrust in between my thighs and cup my pussy! His other hand was on the back of my neck, holding me down, as his fingers roughly stroked along the line of my sex!

  “Spread your legs.”

  “Fuck you!”

  I struggled to twist free, and to kick him, hoping I wasn't putting on too big a show of it that he would actually let me go.

  “Unless you've got some rope to tie me up, you're not strong enough to hold me down!” I sneered.

  I think he got the message. I had seen some rope in the corner. He looked around and saw it too. He let me go and went over to it and I straightened up, then went back to my shorts and started to step into them.

  I gasped in pain as he seized my hair. I guess it was because it was thick and long that everyone seemed to want to use it as a handle or something!

  “Ow! Hey!”

  He yanked me back towards the desk and bent me over it. I continued to struggle and try to kick at him. He cursed and slapped my ass hard, then managed to tie the rope around one of my wrists. He moved around to the other side of the desk and pulled the rope down, then around something before moving across to the other side of the desk. He grabbed my wrist as I tried to slap him and yanked it forward as well, then tied it in place.

  And with that done the heat began to really boil over inside me!

  I twisted and pulled against the ropes excitedly – while trying not to show it excited me. The feeling of the tight ropes around my wrists and ankles, my stretched out position, and well.. my helplessness just turned me on to an incredible degree!

  This was fucking outrageous and kinky and nasty and OMG what was I doing!? But I gulped in air as my insides thrummed with energy, twisting my head to see him undoing his belt.

  Oh wow! Oh wow! This was so sick!

  He surprised me, though, by pulling the belt out of the loops of his pants instead of just opening it. He doubled it in his hand, and I had a second to realize this was going to hurt before he brought it down across my buttocks!

  “Ahh!” I cried.

  “Bad girls need to be punished, baby,” he said.

  I jerked against the ropes, then cried out at another blow! Then another!

  Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

  The belt struck with a wicked, sharp-edged crack of pain that laid a fiery line across my bottom! And in between every blow he reached out and fingered me, stroking and caressing my pussy, and sometimes sliding his finger inside me!

  My bottom began to heat up in a way which was a lot less pleasurable than my insides! But as I began to feel sorry for myself I felt another wave of excitement. There was something about the idea of poor helpless me being abused – sexually – that sent a dark thrill through my mind, and then into my body!

  “Ah! Please! Oh! Stop! Oh! Quit it!” I cried.

  “Hot little blonde slut,” he growled, his fingers pushing roughly into my moist sex.

  Crack!

  “I bet you can't wait to get my cock inside you.”

  Crack!

  “bastard!”

  Crack!

  “Beg for my cock, slut.”

  Oh wow! Were all these perverts students in the same school or something?

  Crack!

  “Ahh! Please fuck me!” I cried.

  Crack!

  “Beg harder.”

  “Please fuck me!” I cried.

  Crack!

  “Say... please fuck me hard.”

  Oh wow!

  “Please fuck me, hard!” I cried.

  Saying that sent a hot rush of dark, nasty excitement through me!

  Crack!

  “Again, slut.”

  “Please fuck me, hard!”

  I felt something rubbing up and down along the moist op
ening of my body, then pushing forward, spreading me open. I felt a rush of relief, because if he was fucking me he couldn't be hitting me! And as much as me being 'punished' turned me on it fucking hurt!

  I moaned as his cock slid deep inside me, then cried out in pain as he wrapped my hair around his fist and yanked my head up and back.

  Crack!

  This time he just slapped my ass while he began to work his cock in and out of me, and I trembled and gasped and moaned as I felt his hips beginning to hit my buttocks. I felt myself sinking into that dark, breathless space where I was nothing but a helpless owned possession, a victim, a sex slave!

  I gasped and moaned as he used me, and the rougher he was the more real it felt, and the more real it felt the more the sexual fever grew within me.

  He stopped and I moaned as he moved around the table, still holding my hair up. I rolled my eyes up at him, gulping in air when he shoved his cock right into my open mouth, then down my throat! I gurgled and gagged in surprise, but he just pushed himself deeper, burying every last inch and grinding himself against my face!

  “Hot little fuck toy,” he said. “You were made for this.”

  I trembled and moaned as he pulled himself slowly back, then gulped in air as he pulled free. But after a few seconds to let me breathe he drove himself to the balls in my throat again, then started to pump, slowly at first, then faster. He gripped my hair with both hands now, using my head, my face, my mouth ruthlessly!

  I was getting light-headed when he pulled out, and gasped for breath as he shifted his grip on my hair, gathering it all into a mass above me, and using it to hold my head up.

  He used his other hand to rub the head of his cock along my lips.

  “Beg me to shove this down your whore throat,” he said.

  I moaned. This guy was fucking crazy!

  Then he slapped my face!

  “Beg, slut.”

  “Please... shove y-your cock down my... throat!

  He slapped my face again.

  “More feeling.”

  “Please shove your cock down my throat!” I cried.

  He slapped my face again.

  “That wasn't what I told you to do, slut.”