Brad apprehensively eyed the landing. His chest pounded in excruciating anticipation, equal parts curiosity and dread as he waited helplessly for his first glimpse of the next sorority girl to use him. It didn’t really matter what she looked like, he reminded himself in a vain attempt to fight back the fear and panic — to regain the relief he had felt as piggy. He grimaced as his frog-tied kneecaps slipped and ground in the puddle of spit, blood, and girl-cum Mistress Chin had left him in. It doesn’t matter what she looks like Brad thought frantically I’m already her bitch. It doesn’t matter if she’s a 500lb gorilla or a midget. Whoever she is, whatever way she wants to use me, whatever she wants to take, she can have it. You are her piggy. You want to be hers.
It wasn’t working. Terror thrashed in his chest as the girl tiptoed to the top of the stairs and stepped lightly on to the landing, her intelligent emerald eyes already locked to his. She was elegant and beautiful. His new owner, confident and comfortable in her lightly freckled skin. “Hey piggy piggy” she intoned playfully, “I’m Lady Katherine”. She looked gentle, but he knew from experience that red-heads could often be subtle, deceptive, and wild, and as she gracefully descended the stairs, taking her time, her elegant hand lightly caressing the banister, he couldn’t help but imagine what she had in store for him. How large a chunk of his soul she would slice out for herself. What’s the worst thing she could do to me? Brad panted, in the throes of fear. Fuck my ass? Flog my nuts? Shit in my mouth? Cut me open to watch me bleed? She could do any of those things if she wanted to. He was her piggy now.
He studied her, terrified, trying to deduce her plan. The way she moved was predatory. She liked that he was afraid of her. She was giving him time to stew in his own imagination. She was probably the kind of girl that would get off on literally killing him slowly. Like maybe she’d want to suffocate him with her slit, he calculated. Brad imagined her grinding her wet labia over his mouth and nose as he fought for air. Her milky thighs locked tightly against his ears, as she detachedly regarded him, bemused at his panic’d thrashing. Massaging her clit with his desperate gasping convulsions as he slowly lost consciousness — physically getting off on his death throes. Maybe she’d give him a tiny breath now and again, just to draw it out, her pretty freckled face beaming orgasmicly, as she rose and fell with his terrified bucking, playing with her own nipples until she was finally ready to asphyxiate him into unconsciousness as she came. And how long would she sit astride him once he was out? How long until she moved, knowing full well that it was her choice whether or not he ever woke up again.
“That’s a good look for you” she remarked playfully, owning him from the stairs. At ease with his fear, with her dominion over him “You look like a fail screen from a fratboy dating simulator.” she smiled darkly, pausing to frame him in her fingers like a movie director “Game over bitch.” she laughed at him musically.
Game over, Brad thought sorrowfully, tears welling in his eyes again; that’s just exactly how he felt.
“Such a pretty pink bow!” she observed the gift Mistress Chin had left for her, continuing her slow, purposeful descent “Maybe we should get a crate of these face-fuckers branded with Sigma-Nu insignia’s” she mused, reaching the bottom of the stairs like a hunting jungle cat. “hmm? How many brothers you got over there? 15? 20?” Brad couldn’t help but imagine his whole house lined up naked on their knees, sniveling and trembling with Sigma-Nu branded face-fucking strap-ons rammed painfully down their throats. Every last one of his cock-sure, uber-macho brothers brought to heel by Zeta House. Made into bitch playthings, like him, resigned to whatever fate their sorority masters commanded. Waiting terrified; slaves to be fucked and abused at their master’s whim like he was right now.
“There’s a pretty picture huh?” she asked as if reading his mind, retrieving a dog-leash from the wall and attaching it to the D-Ring on his collar, lightly fingering the gold cross Mistress Chin had left thoughtfully.
“You know what this is about piggy?” she asked, amused.
He shook his head no
“The cross was her cousin’s. You fucked her mouth a few months ago in the Nu house. Your brothers held Chin down while you did it.” she mused, pulling a pin on the frame and lowering him to his back by his leash. “I bet your mistress gave you a much better face-fucking than you gave her cousin though huh? Did she show you how it’s done piggy piggy?” she mocked. His legs, already cramping painfully, exploded with misery as they folded underneath him, his knees popping audibly as the pressure increased on the broomstick wedged inside them.
“PFF PFF PFF” he panted through his nose wincing in agony.
“Yeah that must hurt like a bitch” she mockingly sympathized, lowering him down onto his back with his leash like fish on a hook. “We should enslave your whole house so Mistress Chin can teach your brothers what it is to be properly held down and fucked in the mouth”. From this angle he could see three folding tables behind him, a massive array of sex toys, restraints, and torturous looking apparatus hung over their edges and leaned against them. “All we’d have to do is give each girl a taser, and a couple pairs of handcuffs and throw a party…” she mused thoughtfully, standing astride him, still holding his leash, giving him a full view up her short denim skirt at her lovely clean-shaven snatch and tight, round, ass as she rummaged around on the middle table “…and your whole house would drop to their knees like helpless whores. We could collect the whole set. Poke-fratboys” she smiled “ready to be trained. Just like you!”
Brad imagined it. The party music blaring in the eerily empty common room at Sigma-Nu. Spilled cups of beer and inverted furniture. The front and rear doors bolted shut from the inside.The pathetic weeping of his brothers as they moaned and thrashed, convulsing terrified on the floor. Their cries unheard beneath the thumping party music. Looking timidly to each other for help, each as cowed and helpless as the next. The Zeta girls moving casually above them, stripping them naked and efficiently hogtying them. Zeta would break his brothers on-site and transport them here once their minds had been shattered, like they were breaking Brad now. They would drag his brothers into lines, naked and pleading, to be cruelly inspected, claimed, branded, and enslaved.
A Sigma-Nu slave tongue for every Zeta pussy. A piggy for every Sister. The thought was horrifying, but also… tantalizing. Brad shuddered.
“Ah here we go” she said picking something up off the table. “Have you ever seen a cock tie before?” she asked, sitting astride his chest and holding something out for him to see. Brad flinched away, closing his eyes and gasping through his nose, expecting to be struck again. “It’s ok I’m not gonna hit you” she said too-kindly.
He opened his eyes nervously, looking at the little piece of cord she held in her delicate fingers. It looked like a very small bolo tie. Brad shook his head, he’d never seen one.
“Well, there are a couple ways you can use them.” she explained, shimmying down toward his knees. He gasped violently through his nose as she very intentionally ran her wet cunt luxuriously over the entire length of his throbbing hard-on before settling down on his legs. “mmmmm danm” She purred, grabbing his cock appreciatively, shimmying the cock-tie down over it, pushing it up against his ball-sack. “I have a lot of experience with cock-ties.” she explained sensuously, “You might say I’m an expert. Our last piggie had premature ejaculation problems you see, and I’m pre-med, so I was trying to cure him”. He raised an eyebrow, their last piggy?
“Oh, don’t worry, I can already tell you don’t have that problem. We won’t have to get rid of you like we got rid of our last piggy”. What the literal fuck Brad thought, his suspension of reality shattering at the revelation that they might actually kill him, or worse, they might keep him forever.
His focus on the present moment eroded; the full weight of his situation crashing down on him again. Was this is life now? Was this is future? He tried to imagine it. The upper-class expectations of his parents; his almost-complete MBA, the charmed life of an investment banker with an apartment in the sky and a different gold-digging slut every night, everything the world had raised him to be: gone. In it’s place a life of eager servitude to a sorority of callous, mean-spirited dominatrices in training. Collared, leashed, branded and broken, kept in a hole under the floorboards, begging to be abused until they tired of him. And then?
He imagined the cops at the Zeta House door, the questions that would be asked. He imagined himself chained and gagged beneath the front porch, listening helplessly, unable to scream for help as Sir explained to the cops how he had attempted to rape her. How they had caught him and how he’d run away when she confronted him and called the police, never to bee seen or heard from again. They would believe her. They would walk away satisfied, write their report, and tell his parents he’d run to escape rape charges. They could do it. They could keep him until they were done using him, and when he was spent they could bury him under the porch if they wanted to. He really was wholly theirs. He had to get away. He HAD to escape before they broke his mind for good. He would never fuck another girl. He wouldn’t ever look at another girl. He just wanted to go home.
“Hph hph hph” he hyperventilated through his nose, bucking helplessly as the panic welled up in him again. He couldn’t even beg to be set free. The dildo lodged into his throat was making it hard to breathe. Her weight on his knees grew unbearably painful. He felt claustrophobic, faint…
“Cock ties give piggies a beefier hard-on when you use them here” the sensuous red-head went on, ignoring his panic attack and cinching it tight at the base of his cock. “See? Blood gets in, but it can’t get out” he gasped again, shocked out of his panic by her rough treatment of his sensitive tool; the tight silicon cord cinched tightly at the base of his shaft. She was right. He could feel his already painfully swollen boner getting harder and stiffer by the second. “That’s fun right?” she teased, running her thumb over the bottom-tip of his cock “little boys are always obsessed with being bigger”. Brad flinched silently at the overwhelming sensation, lifting her up with his hips.
“Anyway, for a few very special piggies…” she continued, brushing her lustrous red hair back over her ear, and untying the pink ribbon from the dildo sprouting from his mouth “… a cock-tie placed here…” she looped the ribbon fully under his scrotum and cinched it tight flush to his torso, capturing both his cock and balls in one tight loop, “… can prevent you from ejaculating altogether.” She tied it off expertly with a slip-knot and cinched it, as he blinked and gasped through his nose, pumping his hips into the air again at her touch.
“It doesn’t work for all piggies, only like the 10th percentile, so that’s what you and I are going to test out now…” she explained, raising up on her knees, guiding his twice-tied cock into her skirt “What do you think?” she asked aligning herself carefully, the tip of his yearning hard-on pressing at the lips of her warm cunt “Are you a special piggy?” she slid down into him, gasping fiercely through her perfect, gleaming teeth as she fully enveloped his cock . Brad’s head shot back as he bit down into the dildo and started humping frantically into the sudden and unexpected bounty of cunt enveloping him, afraid she’d leave, or command him to stop, unsure he’d be able to if she did. She didn’t, clinging to his hips and riding him expertly as she casually unbuttoned her shirt. His eyes bulged at her beautiful exposed chest, as she bounced atop him. He arched his back, feeling that luscious tingle building deep in his loins…
… but then nothing.
It was exactly as if he wanted to pee but someone was holding it, just more deeply inside him than if one were physically holding back from taking a piss. He could feel the orgasm trapped inside him.. it trashed like an angry bull in a pen, unable to escape, his cock blossoming with all the super-sensitivity of an orgasm, but none of the release.
“I didn’t say stop, bitch” she impatiently prompted above him raising an eyebrow menacingly, and Brad, unable even to moan in frustration, began pumping again obediently to avoid her punishment, understanding now that this girl too would deny him an orgasm. She would make him fuck her with his naked cock, would ride him like a human Sybian, using him like a toy to climax again and again while he was left stymied and throbbing for the next sorority sister to abuse. Hopelessness, humiliation, and defeat welled up in him, and defensively he reverted, finally allowing himself to retreat back to piggy. This was what he deserved. Piggies came at their owners command. He wanted to be used and discarded — wanted to be humiliated — to humiliate himself for his master’s pleasure.
“MMmmmmmmm” she moaned luxuriously, threading her fingers into her hair, her breasts raising beautifully. Grabbing her own hair with both hands now, she began rubbing herself expertly into him, gyrating her hips in exorbitant thrusts like a belly-dancer with his cock lodged inside her. Her sexy freckled breasts bounced and heaved as she danced and he was sure, were it not for the cock-tie restraining him, he would blow 10 quarts of cum no-handed from across the room at the mere sight of her. With the tie on, the sensation was rapturous and intolerable. Were it not for the dildo gagging him, he would scream and squeal at the top of his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut, beating his head back against the 2×6 board with the grueling overabundance of sensation ravaging his cock as he felt her first explosive climax clamp down on him oppressively.
She froze above him as she came, and sensing she wanted him deep, he stopped too, his hips painfully extended, holding her weight entirely atop his tormented knees as she bit her lip, hugging her own head in her arms, her pretty, elegant face frozen in bliss, her lovely, flat tummy convulsing in pleasure.
He relaxed as her climax abated, painfully lowering her back to the floor. She let go of her hair, beaming down at him wickedly. “It looks like you’re a very special pig indeed” she said, pinching his nipple playfully. He felt elated by his owners compliment — euphoric. He wanted so badly to please her — to be a special piggy. He wanted to be the best piggy in the world for his new masters. He wanted to be kept and loved and cherished and not gotten-rid-of like the last piggy. The one who wasn’t special like him.
“pff hff pff hff” he panted happily for her, as she shimmied back up to his neck, situating herself atop the dildo mounted to his mouth, the juice from her last orgasm dripping pleasantly onto his face. Sir’s voice echoed in his ears: you want to eagerly worship our cunts like a good piggy as he raised his chin, stroking her clit lovingly with the dildo before easing it inside her. It was true, he sighed. He did want to worship her adorable little clean-shaven cunt. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His knees felt a little better without the extra weight, and as she began thrusting into his face, he inhaled deeply, relishing his mistress’s lovely smell and opening his ragged throat for her. Wallowing in the sounds her soggy vagina made against his face, and the force of her powerful little thighs grinding the dildo into his raw throat where it belonged. He imagined how she looked dancing above his face in rapture. He sighed contentedly through his nose, squirming to aid his mistresses balance in the puddle of cum and tears, unable make even the slightest noise as she viciously brought herself to climax on his face.
He’d never been a happier piggy.