The Older Man

"There are two kinds of rules I expect you to obey: rules when you're here, and rules for all the time. Understand?"

Taylor sat naked, legs spread, on the fully clothed older man's lap. His hands were no longer tormenting her sore, clamped nipples, and had settled on her inner thighs, his firm grip tantalisingly close to her needy pussy. She looked down and couldn't believe what she saw; the chubby, wrinkled fingers with their thin patches of white hair pressing into her smooth young flesh. She still couldn't believe she was letting a man like this treat her this way, and the thought turned her on so much she shifted her hips as if she could grind her cunt against those rough old hands. But all she managed was to move awkwardly against the uncomfortable fullness of the plug stretching her ass, and so she gasped a little before she said, "Yes Sir."

"The rules for when you're here are simple, and you've largely learned them already. As soon as you come inside you must strip naked, fold your clothes by the front door, and kneel to wait for further instructions. You will remain naked until I tell you to leave.

"While you're here, all your holes are available for my use at any time. I can fuck them, finger them, plug them, torture them, use them however I want." As he talked, his fingers started to roughly stroke her inner thighs, digging deep into the sensitive skin and streaking down away from her cunt. Each time he got close to her knees he brought his hands back up, a little higher on the thighs each time. If he kept going like this, in a few more strokes he would touch her cunt, which she wanted more than anything. She lifted her thighs slightly each time, pressing herself into his hands, not caring that each movement caused a little stab of extra pain in her nipples and ass.

He continued. "You will endure any physical pain, discomfort or humiliation I want to cause you, no matter how severe. I won't cause you a lasting injury or leave marks on your face, neck or hands, and you can use your safeword if you need to and we'll stop. But other than that, you should expect to suffer physically and emotionally purely because it makes my dick hard.

"You won't speak unless I tell you to speak, and when given that permission you will always call me Sir to show your respect for me.

"And, finally, the most important rule. Your job here and your priority at all times is to turn me on as much as possible. It doesn't matter that outside here you're a beautiful young women who people like and care about. Here, you're an object. Your feelings don't matter, your comfort and dignity and personality don't matter, you're a thing while you're in this apartment. You should always be thinking about whether there's a way you can increase how much I enjoy using you, whether that means working harder when you fuck me, improving your technique, degrading or hurting yourself for me, making everything worse for yourself. Do you understand?"

She lifted her hips once last time because she knew his fingers would fall on her pussy this time. But they did not. Instead of stroking again he grabbed her inner thighs with all his strength, digging his fingers deep and pulling and twisting. She couldn't help jerking against the sudden pain; the plug and clamps made her immediately regret and she struggled to hold still as he dug and kneaded at her skin.

But did she understand? She understoodin her soul. This was something she needed, something she had always wanted. The terrible cruelty of the rules felt like coming home.

"Yes Sir," she said, the pain clear in her voice. "Thank you Sir."

Her released his grip on her thighs and moved back to her nipples. This time he flicked at the clamps and she gasped at the harsh sting. Then, without warning, he released both the clamps, pulling them away almost at once. The sudden, unexpected pain stabbed at her and, again, she squirmed uncomfortable against the plug. He dropped the clamps so that they fell between her legs, and the brief moment when one of them bounced against her pussy lip was the first time anything had touched her cunt since she arrived. And then his fingers were pinching her nipples, rolling them back and forth. They were still swollen and sore from the clamps and the pinching sensation was excruciating, but also incredibly hot. She wasn't sure if it was just masochistic pleasure or if there was something about this sensation, specifically, that turned her on even more. But this time she didn't care how much the plug hurt, and she ground her pussy helplessly against the empty air, unable to conceal how badly she wanted it to be touched.

"Outside of this apartment--or, I should say, when we are not together, because I may decide to use you elsewhere at times--the rules are simpler and you will be substantially free. But I reserve the right to total control of your sex life in any way I choose. For example, at the moment you have to suck a cock every day and can't come. I could change it so you must come every day and can never suck a dick without my permission. Your orgasms or lack of them, your partner or lack of them. All of these are mine to decide, either to help train you as in the current arrangement, or merely by passing whim. Do you understand?"

Taylor continued to hump the air. She had not considered before that he might exercise this kind of control. Before she had come here the first time she hadn't considered that he might command her to fuck other men, and before now she hadn't considered that he might command her not to. She had other lovers; nothing serious, but a handful of regular and semiregular hookups and dates. She knew she should pause here, think it through, decide whether she was comfortable letting this virtual stranger (she still didn't know his name or really anything about him) have total control over who she fucked.

But her cunt was in control now, and only more aroused by giving him more control. "Yes Sir, thank you Sir," she said.

She watched in fear as he reached for the clamps again, and let out a few shuddering breaths as he reached to put them back on her nipples. The pain was worse this time and he laughed as she screamed. "Keep it down. Unless you want my neighbours coming by to see what's going on." She choked down the screams into a long, low groan.

"To help you learn the rules, I'm going to let you write them down." He gestured across the room, where she now noticed an exercise book and pen sitting on the floor. "You can write down each of the rooms 20 times. I hope that will be enough. When you're done, crawl back over here and let me see what you've written. Assuming they're error-free, you'll get a reward. If not, we'll go over them again and you can write them out again another 20 times. Understand?"

She wanted to badly to stay on his lap, where there was at least a chance he would touch her cunt, but she quietly replied, "Yes Sir, thank you Sir." The clamps hurt so badly now as she tried to move, to get down off his lap, that she barely noticed the plug. He laughed at her obvious distress and said, "Hurry up. I expect you to be done by the time I'm ready to use your ass again."

"Yes Sir," she said, wincing as the clamps pulled and swayed against her nipples as she crawled across the room. "Thank you Sir."

She reached the notebook, opened it and picked up the pen. She could feel her cheeks were flushed and wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or anger; both, probably. The rules were demeaning enough but being forced to write them out 20 times like a naughty schoolchild was even more so and, worse, sure to be boring. She'd much rather take a bigger plug and harsher clamps, worse pain, over being bored. It was infuriating, and the amount of time it was going to take just yawned out in front of her.

Behind her and over her head, he turned on the television. It was playing some kind of sitcom she didn't know, bad and unfunny, with a laugh track that boomed every few seconds. She was struck again by the extra humiliation of submitting in this way to a guy like this: not just old and physically unattractive (when she could have had, what, a hot young dom with washboard abs? She had before) but, worse, someone who watched free to air television. She almost made herself laugh at this, but remember where she was and what she had to do.

One, she wrote.As soon as I enter the apartment I will strip naked, fold my clothes neatly, and wait on my knees for further instructions. She realised with anguish she was only pretty sure she'd remembered that right, that there wasn't a detail she'd forgotten. What if she wrote all these rules 20 times and then had to do it again because she'd gotten some small detail wrong? Her forehead creased in distress at the thought but she forced herself to try to relax and keep writing.

Two, Sir can use any of my holes any way he likes whenever he likes.God, it turned her on so much to write about her own body like this.

Three...She continued like this, reached the end of the rules for the first time and started again. It had only taken a few minutes, so writing them 20 times should only take--she realised that if she could write all the rules in 3 minutes it would take a full hour to finish, and she wasn't sure she could write them that fast, certainly not keep writing them that fast for that long. Her knees didn't ache yet but she could feel it wasn't far away.One,she wrote again.

The work was as long and tedious as she'd feared. But as she wrote and was forced to think about these rules, she also realised some implications the rules had that hadn't been obvious to her when he first laid them out. Stripping naked as soon as she arrived--what if someone else was here? And he'd said specifically that he reserved the right to decide who she fucked. What if she came over and one of the neighbours he'd mentioned, or some other friend of his, was waiting to watch and use her. She felt terribly anxious and humiliated at the thought of being fucked by someone she hadn't chosen herself, but also and just as strongly turned on. Again and again she wrote the wordsMy feelings, comfort, dignity and personality don't matter, I'm a thing while I'm in this apartmentand shivered involuntarily at how much this truth turned her on.

She'd been writing for an excruciating amount of time already when she heard him stand up and, suddenly, he was pulling her up by her hair. Roughly, without warning, he unclamped her nipples and they blazed with fresh pain. "I don't want to leave this on for too long, they could actually hurt you." Despite the promise of relief conveyed by his words, his fingers were already squeezing and stretching her nipples, although this time--remembering what he'd said about neighbours--she bit down on her own screams and suppressed them into hard, sharp grunts of pain. "There we go, got some blood moving in there again." He was bringing the clamps back up and she reached as if to cover her breasts and protect herself from the pain but, before he could tell her, pulled her hands sadly back down and folded them behind her back, pushing her tits out and up towards him. She'd just written a dozen times that the most important rule was to make everything worse for herself, and she wasn't going to forget it yet.

The pain as the clamps closed again was worse than anything he'd yet done to her, and her face screwed up with it, her heels kicking against the floor.

With that, he went back to his chair and she felt her eyes start to tear as she sank back to her notebook and pen.

Finally she had finished 20 copies of each rule and crawled back across the room to kneel at his feet, offering the notebook to him. He made her wait there until a commercial break started and then took it from her. As he read what she'd written he looked up occasionally to make eye contact before returning to the page.

"Do you think you wrote down all your rules correctly?" he said.

"I hope so, Sir."

"I didn't ask what you hoped. It's important that if I ask you a question, you answer the question I asked and don't just say whatever pops into that pathetic head of yours. I asked whether you think you wrote down all your rules correctly."

She thought about this, painfully nervous. "Yes Sir, I think I wrote down all my rules correctly."

He stared at her silently for a minute and said, "Yes, you did. I call you a dumb bitch because it makes my dick hard to call you that, and because you deserve it, but I'm glad you're actually smart enough to take simple instructions. And I promised you a reward if you did."

She beamed, both at the closest he'd come to praise for her and the prospect of a reward. She didn't think he would relent and grant her an orgasm but she did think he might touch and tease her cunt, which would feel amost as good at this point. "Thank you Sir."

"Your reward is that you can ask me questions, which is not something I will let you do often, so you should make the most of it. You can ask me any three questions and I'll answer them honestly. Come sit on my lap again, so I can torture you while you think."

She did as he'd asked and his hands went immediately to her breasts, squeezing the clamps hard against the trapped flesh so she grunted and fought the urge to push his hands away. To keep from defending herself, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged tight, and felt a stab of arousal at the contrast between the soft, affectionate way she was touching him and the abject cruelty of his hands against her sore tits.

She squirmed helplessly as he hurt her, struggling to focus her mind on the task of figuring out questions worth asking. Finally she realised there was something she'd wanted him to confirm for a week.

"Did you really not like the way I sucked your cock, Sir?"

With the question asked, he unclamped her left nipple and she let out a short scream. "When I tell you something, you should just accept that it's true. I might say something to you because it's a fact or because I enjoy degrading you or making you accept absurd things, but it doesn't matter. Your thoughts have no weight here so it never matters whether something I tell you is true or not. It's true for you." She didn't catch all his words because he'd unclamped the other nipple as he spoke and gone back to pinching and twisting. She couldn't believe how badly her nipples hurt now, and she felt acute fear at the prospect that he was about to put the clamps back, since they hurt new and worse each time.

"I said I'd answer honestly and that is an honest answer, but I know it's not what you really meant. So if you want, you can ask again and I'll give a more straightforward answer. But in my opinion, and it's rare my opinions will only be advice and not commands to you, you should accept what I've said."

"Thank you Sir," she said. She was looking at him now with pleading eyes, begging silently for him not to put the clamps back. She wanted badly to say the words 'please don't' but she remembered all the times she'd written that she mustendure any physical painand watched helplessly as he replaced them. It was bad as she'd feared and she pressed her mouth into her own shoulder to muffle the sound of her scream.

She launched a second question in part to distract herself from the awful pain. "Are you really going to let your neighbours see me like this?" She realised this wasn't quite what she wanted to know. "Let them fuck me?" He smiled to see her cheeks, already red, had darkened with shame at this prospect.

"Of course I will. You're a thing that belongs to me and I'll let others use you as I see fit."

She squeezed her eyes shut at this confirmation, and realised the other thing she wanted to know. There was a question she'd been trying to avoid thinking about all week, something that scared her so much she didn't want to ask. But in this moment, desperate to find a way to end the terrible pain in her nipples and needing to ask something, anything, to continue, she asked anyway.

"Are you--" the question fell away as she moaned anxiously about what he might say. "Are you ever going to let me come again?" Because it had been a week already, and he showed no interest in offering her relief, and seemed to enjoy her desperate frustration. She was terrified that 'until you can give a decent blowjob' would give way to another reason to deny her, and another, indefinitely.

But he surprised her by saying, again, "Of course I will." He slapped casually at the clamps, sending terrible waves of pain through her torso. "Your pleasure means nothing to me so there is no reason for me to stop you coming. I wouldn't even say I've stopped you now; I'd say I'm generously offering you one great big orgasm as a reward once you learn to suck dick properly. That's an incentive, not denial." This explanation both was and wasn't reassuring to Taylor.

"All right, I'm going to fuck you again now, bend over the other chair with your hands on the arm rests. I'm going to get some weights to hang off your tits." She squealed at this and, briefly, folded her arms across her chest as if this would protect her before, and started to cry as she stepped gingerly across the room to the spot he'd directed. He left the room and came back with a handful of small black pouches; he pulled her head up by her hair to look at them.

"Good, tears already. It turns me on to fuck you while you're crying so you should expect this to happen often." He jerked on the chain between the clamps to emphasise his point, producing fresh tears. "I've got 250 grams here, and 500 grams here. Which one should I use?"

Her tears grew heavier at the question because she knew there was only one answer she could give. He could barely understand her words through her sobs but understand well enough what she'd said: "Both please Sir."

As he attached each weight he supported it at first with his hand and then gradually removed the support until they hung freely. 250 grams and she howled desperately, knowing the next would be twice as bad. With 750 grams suspended from the clamps she couldn't think about anything but the desperate burning pain in her tits.

He reached for her ass and pulled the plug out, neither rough nor gentle. She was in so much pain she barely noticed as he pushed the plug into her mouth. It had left her gaping enough that his dick slid in easily and the fucking itself was easy to take--except that with each thrust of his hips, the weights swung and dragged and pulled at her nipples. "I let you ask those questions because I wanted to know what mattered most to you. What I really think of you sexually, being seen and used by others, being allowed to come. Interesting."

He reached forward and batted at the weights casually while he fucked her, making them swing harder. "I was going to give you a chance to come next week but maybe I'll make you wait longer just because I can."

She barely registered the words, although in the days to come she'd remember them anxiously. She wasn't just crying now but sobbing, great wracking gasps as the terrible pain overwhelmed all other thoughts. Only the rules that she had written and rewritten so meticulously ran through her head.All my holes are available for your use. Endure any physical pain, humiliation or discomfort. I'm a thing while I'm in this apartment. I'm a thing. I'm a thing.

He used her that way, not like a person but like a thing. Once he'd come he used her hair, again, to wipe away the mess on his dick. For the last time that day he took the clamps off and she screamed. He laughed in her face.

"Wash the plug with soap and leave it in the bathroom sink, then get dressed and go. I'm done with you for today."

Her nipples, finally free, throbbed as she hobbled to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror as she lathered her hands and soaped up the thick toy that had stretched her so uncomfortably. Her eyes were red and wet, her skin flushed and sweaty, her hair knotty and, in two places, clumped with sticky fluids. Anyone who saw her was going to know clearly that she'd been fucked, and badly. She wished he'd let her take a shower before she left.