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Anything She Wants, by One Sick Boy

When I started going out with Karen, I had no idea what turned her on. But it turned out we were quite well matched, I suppose. I was working in a café when I saw her first, and she caught my attention straight away. She was a plump, pretty woman with long brown hair and red lipstick. She came in dressed in a tight skirt that showed her big thighs, carrying a briefcase. Everything about her manner radiated confidence. As I came over to her table to take her order, she gave me an appraising glance, letting her gaze rest between my legs.

When she had finished her coffee, she walked over to the bar.

“What time do you get off?”


“I’ll pick you up.”

She met my eyes momentarily, checking for a response. Satisfied, she turned and walked out.

At seven, she was waiting outside. Over dinner, she told me she’d liked the look of me. She told me a bit about herself, that she was a doctor and was new in town. I thought she certainly knew how to meet people.

Afterwards we went back to my flat. When I showed her in, she glanced around disdainfully, but didn’t say anything. Okay, the place was in its usual untidy state, but still…

I closed the door behind us and she stood still, looking intensely into my eyes. I stepped forward and kissed her gently on the lips. Her tongue was immediately between my teeth, as she took my right hand and lifted it to her breast.

We kissed for a moment then I led her through into the bedroom. We undressed each other piece by piece until we were both in our underwear; me in a pair of boxer shorts and her in a tightly stretched pair of cotton panties. Her skin was white and warm, and I gazed down at her breasts, which were large and firm, and whose big pink nipples were already stiff.

I pulled back the duvet and pulled her down beside me. We kissed again, and this time she spread her plump thighs and pulled my hand down under the waistband of her panties. Her cunt was shaved and slippery with moisture. She began to thrust her pelvis forward in time to my caresses.

“Lick me,” she commanded, pulling off her panties.

Pulling of my own boxer shorts, I knelt between her legs and put my mouth to her wet pussy, tracing her big clit with my tongue. She continued to grind her pelvis against me.


I tried to keep up.

“Fucking lick me, you dickhead.”

I licked harder.

“You fucking pathetic wimp.”

All the time she was squirming faster until finally with a sob she came against my face.

“Jesus Christ,” she said after a moment. Then she looked down at my cock.

“You can’t fuck me, you know.”


“That’s fucking pathetic. Only men with decent size cocks get to fuck me.”

I assumed she was joking, however unfunny.

“I’ll bring you off if you like.”

Then she reached over into her bag and took out a pair of surgical gloves. Only when she’d put them on did she reach over to touch my cock.

And she began to wank me.

All the time, she was whispering in my ear about my cock, saying that it wouldn’t satisfy a mouse, saying it was a little boy’s cock, and that I was lucky she would even touch it.

I came like never before.

After that, the rules to our relationship became more clearly defined. I never got to fuck her, and our sex life consisted mainly of me bringing her off with my mouth. We never met at my flat again, because she thought it was filthy. After a few weeks, she decided that she wasn’t going to touch my cock any more, and a few days later she asked me not to wank while we were together. She’d decided that she wasn’t going to have me come while I was in her flat in case it made a mess.

I loved it.

Eventually I moved in and she made me give up my job to stay at home for her. This meant that she would lock me in the flat when she went to work in the morning, and I would do the housework. If there was shopping to be done we would do it together when she got in. She also locked the bathroom so I couldn’t wank in the toilet or the shower while she was out. Instead I had a chamber pot in our bedroom, which she could examine for traces of semen. She made it clear that she considered masturbation on my part to be a serious offence.

Finally, she decided that she didn’t want me touching her cunt except as a treat, on special occasions when I’d been a particularly good boy. The rest of the time I was to bring her to orgasm by licking her anus. Any failure to make her come this way would bring a punishment, as would failure to complete the housework to her satisfaction, or any evidence of masturbation.

The punishments changed as the relationship developed. One of her favourites was to withold the chamber pot for as long as she decided necessary. She would sometimes give it to me just to urinate, but then she could force me to go days without opening my bowels. When she finally gave the pot back, she would watch me using it with kindly warmth in her eyes.

“Little boy has to learn to obey the rules,” she would say gently.

By now she would also sniff through my underwear to make sure I wasn’t playing with myself. One day she found a semen stain in my briefs and decided that a different level of punishment was needed.

After retiring into her study to think about it, she called me in. By now she was keeping me nude when I was in the house and she had shaved my head. So I stood naked before her, with my hands behind my back as she had taught me. She leaned back in her swivel chair.

“I can’t believe you’ve been so fucking disrespectful. It’s taken me a long time to think of a suitable punishment, but now I’ve decided. I think you need your cock punishing.”

My cock began to swell between my legs.

“Yes I do,” I agreed.

“It may be fucking tiny but it will still feel pain,” she went on. “Get on your knees.”

I sat back on my ankles and she tied my wrists and ankles together, so that I was kneeling with my stiff cock sticking right out in front of me.

She began to undress, until she was facing me, naked in all her pale, plump glory. I could see cunt juice glistening between her legs.

“Let me lick you” I begged.

“You can lick my ring to show your respect.”

She stood in front of me and leaned over to touch her toes, bringing her pink rosebud level with my face. I hesitated. There were several dark smears of shit around it.

“What’s wrong, little boy?”

“It’s dirty.”

“Of course it’s dirty. It’s what you deserve. You can be my walking toilet paper.”

I began to trace my tongue over her strong-smelling ring. Clear fluid began to drip from my cock. As I became more excited, I pushed my face into the rich crack between her buttocks, forcing my tongue into the filthy hole.

It was Karen who pulled away.

“Fucking pathetic little worm, you love it, don’t you?”

She turned away to put her surgical gloves on, and picked up something from the desk. When she brought it close I saw that it was a metal cheese grater.

“What are you going to do?” I asked, trembling.

“This is for your cock,” she replied, “so you’ll remember the rules in future.”

With her gloved hands she drew back my foreskin, and began to rub the sensitive head of my cock along the grater.

I tried not to cry out at the pain, but as she speeded up the strokes I began to whimper like a dog.
One or two drops of blood splashed on the floor.

“Please stop,” I begged.

“Poor little boy,” she cooed, “Does his willy hurt?”

I thrust my face towards hers and tried to kiss her. She drew back and smacked the side of my face with one gloved hand.

“You’ve just earned yourself more punishment,” she said cruelly. She dropped the grater and reached below to my tender balls, which felt ready to burst.

“I think it’s time for little boy to get his balls squeezed.”

I squirmed with pleasure, and began to moan softly as she squeezed my left testicle between her thumb and forefinger, first gently, then increasingly cruelly. She moved her other hand to my right testicle, and began to squeeze both, laughing at my helpless squirms.

Finally, I couldn’t stop it any longer. I threw back my head and howled as a long thick stream of come jetted from my bleeding penis.

Karen’s haunches trembled as she came without even being touched.

It was almost the only time she allowed me to come while we were living together.

The next week Karen told me she was seeing another man. She said that she wanted to bring him home. His name was Paul, she told me, and she let him fuck her because his cock was beautiful. She said that he was a wonderful lover, and that I would have to keep out of their way. To stop me getting in their way, she had decided to chain me to the bed in the spare room when he was in the flat.

I met him that night. I was naked in the kitchen, cooking dinner for Karen and me, when she arrived from work, accompanied by a tall, well-muscled black man.

She didn’t introduce us, but came through to the kitchen.

“Why isn’t the fucking meal ready?”

“It will be ready soon.” I was cooking Chinese, quite an intricate recipe.

“Well, when it’s finished, I’m going to eat it with Paul. You can serve us like a good waiter, then we’ll put you to your room.”

“Can I put some clothes on please?”

“No you can’t. I want Paul to see your cock. It’ll make him laugh.”

I finished the cooking and brought a tray into the dining room. Paul and Karen were sitting at the dinig table, their chairs almost touching. I noticed his hand on her thigh. Karen had dimmed the lights and lit the candles for him.

Paul looked up and down my body and I felt my cock begin to swell.

“Fucking queer,” said Karen.

I put the plates in front of them.

“Want me to chain him up?” Paul asked Karen.

“Thank you, darling,” she replied, and leaned over to give him a long, deep kiss. Paul slipped his hand around the inside of her thigh and she spread her legs and giggled.

“Put baby to bed,” she asked him.

“Come on, queer,” said Paul. He followed me into the spare room and told me to get up on the bed. I knelt and put my hands through the rails of the headboard, and he fastened them with the cuffs that Karen kept for me.

They left the doors open so that I could hear them after dinner when they went to Karen’s room to fuck.

After several minutes, the thumping of the headboard against the wall stopped and I heard footsteps. Karen was in the doorway wearing a leather collar.

“Does little boy want to see how a real man fucks?” she asked.

She brought Paul through into the spare room and sat him in the armchair beside the bed. I couldn’t help looking at his beautiful, circumsised black cock and his muscular body. Karen then took a tube of lubricant and squatted over the chair, her back to Paul so that they were both facing me. She rubbed some of the jelly over the shaft of Paul’s cock, and applied the rest to her own anus. She lowered her buttocks over his cock, biting her lip as it entered her.

“Oh, baby,” she said, “You’re so big.”

Paul began to thrust in and out, and I watched her tight ring getting pounded by this man’s long, thick cock. She reached her fingers to her pussy and wetted them in her juice, then leaned forward and held them under my nose.

“Poor little boy doesn’t get any of this. But if he’s a good boy he can lick the come from his mummy’s hole.”

Paul carried on fucking her and she began to whimper with each thrust, a pleading look in her eyes. Paul reached forward and began to rub her clit. She gasped. His breathing began to speed up, and his eyes closed.

Finally he came, biting on her neck as he spurted inside her. Karen shuddered as an orgasm rocked her body moments later.

They sat silent.

“What are we going to do with him?” asked Paul.

“He’s going to lick me clean like a good boy,” said Karen.

“Look at him with his fucking arse in the air.” I was still on all fours, chained to the headboard.

“Do you want to fuck him?” asked Karen.

“He looks like he’s itching to get fucked.”

“What he wants doesn’t matter. It’s me who decides what happens to him.”

“Okay then. Let me fuck him.”

“He’s due a punishment for not having dinner ready on time. Getting fucked isn’t a punishment. Not for a poof like that.”

“We’ll give him his punishment while I fuck him,” said Paul. “Wait here.”

He went out of the room and came back holding a condom packet and the bottle of chilli oil that I’d put on the table with their dinner.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“You shut the fuck up,” said Karen.

“Let him lick your ring. That’ll shut him up,” suggested Paul. Karen climbed onto the bed and pushed her sweaty, sperm-filled bottom towards me. But I was watching Paul. He had opened the condom and was pouring chilli oil into the open end. I knew what he was going to do.

I leaned forward and breathed in the smell of Karen’s anus, this time with an added masculine scent. I tentatively reached forward with the tip of my tongue and ever so gently began to caress her ring with it.
Meanwhile, Paul had taken the lubricant and I felt his rough fingers on my hole, working it into my most private place. Excited, I pretended to resist, begging him to stop. The he was kneeling between my legs, forcing them apart, and I felt his unsheathed cock head resting on my ring.

I was licking a mouthful of his sperm from Karen’s hole as he drove hard into me, and I almost squealed with the pain.

“You like that, don’t you, queer?”

I nodded.

“Do you know what else I’ve got in store for you?”

“The chilli oil.”

“And where’s it going?”

“On my dick.”

His cock still inside me, he reached forward with the condom full of the oil and began to roll it over my cock. Initially, I felt nothing, and I thought that maybe it wouldn’t be painful.

But as Paul began to gently thrust inside me, I began to feel the growing burning feeling in my cock head.

“My dick’s burning,” I whimpered.

“Fucking shut up,” said Paul. He started to rub my scalding cock and I began to sob with the pain and the excitement.

Karen now rolled over to watch my face as my cock was tortured by the stinging, burning oil. Her wet, hairless slit inches from my face, she spread her legs and began to stroke her clit, the strong cunt smell filling my nostrils. I leaned down to kiss her genitals but she slapped me away.

Karen watched the tears rolling down my cheeks, murmuring to herself, “poor little boy” and now pushing her fingers deep into her vagina. Paul carried on thrusting harder and harder, all the time rubbing my tortured penis.

Finally I came, squirting hot white semen into the condom. Seconds later I felt Paul’s hot come filling my insides, and watched Karen squirming and whimpering as she too climaxed.

The three of us lay there, unable to move.

Eventually I did have to ask Paul to take the condom off me, though.

Although it had been a hell of a night, Karen and I never saw Paul again. We knew that threesomes can become complicated, and I think both of us prefer being monogamous.

We’re just an old-fashioned couple, really.


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