I started at least four stories for today’s smut, because the prompt of Missy’s beautiful boobs bound with a belt is one that gave me so many ideas. In my drafts, this one is entitled “pirate fucking” – which, to be honest, describes a hell of a lot of my fantasies…
There’s a thick belt around my wrists, cuffing them together, and a length of rope has pulled my arms high above my head. I’m helpless.
I’m facing the mast, the rope around my wrists tugged just a bit too high, so I’m off balance. I’m forced to stand on tiptoe, trembling, as each of my captors take their turn with belts and whips until my arse is on fire and wetness is running down the inside of my legs. I’ve been biting my lip to hold back my moans, but their jeering laughter shows they know exactly how much this is turning me on.
“Such a filthy little slut,” one of the men behind me says, “so wet from us beating her. The whore is probably desperate to be fucked.”
His words are met with more laughter. A little part of me wants to hold on to some dignity and squeeze my legs together… but that part loses to my greedy cunt. I spread my legs, push my arse back, and moan like the wanton slut they took me for. I want to be fucked. I need to be fucked.
Rough hands grab me and spin me around, and a stinging blow across one of my cheek makes me cry out. Earlier they stripped me of my clothes – all but fighting to rip them off me. Now, someone stuffs a piece of my white petticoat into my mouth, while two others use belts to tie me to the mast, strapping my boobs down tightly.
“You’d better be quiet now, bitch,” one of them tells me, “because now we get to play with you.”
I am helpless, and I know I should be scared. Right now, though, I’m beyond caring. While I’m naked, most of the men around me are clothed. They’re all grinning though, and they seem to be as eager to fuck me as I am desperate to be fucked.
And oh, how they fuck me. Hard and fast; slow but forcefully; roughly while whispering filthy things in my ear. Some of them make me come, some of them don’t. Some enjoy getting me to the edge of an orgasm and pulling away, while others fuck me as though I am nothing but a hole to be fucked. At one point I spit the gag out, and begin to beg for more, for it to stop, to be allowed to come, for anything…
The man fucking me grabs my chin and holds my mouth open. He spits in it, and fucks me harder. I come, clenching hard around his cock.
As it gets darker, they grow bored with their toy. They head below decks, already discussing other matters. They’ve already forgotten the helpless girl strapped to the mast. Their come runs down my legs, cooling as darkness falls. It’s not exactly comfortable, but I slump against the mast, satisfied. I’m still helpless, but at least I’ve now been used and filled. I do wish they’d unbuckled the belts around my tits though…
While I’m sure they look striking, if my tits are going to be belted up I’d rather have an audience.
Image sourced through Pixabay.
Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a queer, trans, disabled sex writer with vaginismus. He’s a slut and a sex nerd who writes about his adventures in trying to fuck without fucking up. Quinn can usually be found wearing stomp-on-the-patriarchy boots while falling in love every time he fucks.
