Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. After Work Encounter (mf) She was a short and curvy girl in her late twenties with creamy freckled skin and voluminous dark hair that betrayed her Irish-Italian roots. A preppy with a shoe habit, her black come fuck me pumps were pushing just over four inches high and just under four digits on price. She had just tentatively surrendered a handwritten letter detailing how she consented to whatever was about happen, so long as the teal ribbon currently tied in her hair was on her person. Finishing our drinks we walked back to my hotel. Opening the room door she got nervous and lost her cool. Said she was chickening out. That she didn't want to. That this was a mistake. A misunderstanding. The hallway was empty. And that ribbon still in her hair. She started to turn away and mumble an apology when I took a fist full of that thick dark mane and jerked her into the dark room. A quick balk was met with a sharp but measured backhand slap. Enough to sting. Not enough to force questions tomorrow. Hitting the entryway light I slamming her against the wall. I growled "Cunt" in her ear. Pulling a set of handcuffs from my suit pocket I pushed one open and went after her flailing wrist. The clicking of cold metal was met with a yelp. She twisted and I let her hair go, instead grabbing the other wrist locking the two together behind her back. Dragging her by the hair I forced her face first on to the bed. The constant stream of "No's" and "Pleases" and "Stops" came to an abrupt halt when I forced in a ball gag grabbed from the bedside table. Sitting on the bed I struggled to get her over my knee. Then smack Smack SMACK. Over that fine designer wool skirt. I do love the squirming. Pulling up her skirt, exposing her panties. Taunting her about she's going to get fucked. Then another round of smack Smack SMACK. Asked her if she was wet. Only sluts get wet. Was she a slut? Her muted attempt at a response isn't worth recording. She knew what was happened. Pulling down her panties till they stopped mid thigh. The fresh dark moist patch tattling on her twat. I delivered a single hard smack to her wiggling bare ass. My fingers lingering afterwards. Brushing. Touching. Telling her that it was a natural response. Smack. Its primal. That rape, was older than civilisation. Smack. Older than humanity. Hundred of millions of years of evolution breeding her submission. That time I didn't strike her. She was expecting it. And flinched at my approach. But I just pressed a finger in where it was wanted most urgently. Even though I could smell her wetness I was still surprised at how little resistance there was. Those lips can't lie. She went rigid at the violation. Stunned. I could hear her sharp inhale through that cute little button nose. Now you've got a reason to be stuck up. Pulling my finger out, I pressed ahead forcing two into the narrow breach. That took some getting used to. And then three digits. Her legs were jelly and her back was arching as the trio took residency. She could feel the menace in my pants under her. Pushing her forward over the edge of the bed I unzipped. That threatening sound brought a renewed vigor as she tried to right herself upwards. Bare hard cock grazed her thigh, smearing precum. She froze again. She wasn't on the pill. And my manhood was inches away from knocking her up. "Stay" the word cold as the air pumping in from the AC. I could hear her panting furiously, nostrils flaring. "and I'll put on this condom." My fingers slick from her cunt I fumbled with the packet. Rubbing my cock against her thigh, enjoying the smoothness of her skin and the tremour of fear beneath it. "You're fertile." A whimper and head nod confirmed it. She was both juicy and ripe. The touch of latex against her backside calmed her temporarily as I forced the condom to unroll down my girth. Saddling up to her slit she started to struggle again. Calves kicking, heels flicking, head shaking in futile objection. She lost a shoe with a thump. I pushed forward, and she tried scooching to the left, scooching to the right. Anything to avoid IT. Grabbing her hair with my sloppy hand I pulled her head back and started the impalement with deliberateness. She was wet but tight with that satisfying squeeze as I pushed my hardness into her. Arching her back, she tried to bend away, trying to lessen how much she had to take. And then her mistake. Angled. Contacting a certain spot inside her and suddenly she bucked back involuntarily, meeting my slow thrust with an needy push back of her own. I exhaled a "fuck" as the pleasure of breaking her and taking her pussy flowed through me. I could hear her highly muffled screaming into the gag as I widened her accommodation, those welcoming lips choking down too much too fast. My hips grounded out on her thighs and the aborted screams turned to whimpering. I took a moment to savour the deliciousness and let enough slack on her hair so that her shifting and squirming could buy a bit of space. Pulling her hair back again I reined her in, and then thrust forward, taking it all back and just a bit more as I drove deeper in from my hips. Her struggles becoming more confused as she strove to escape, but instinct would catch her and she'd fuck me back before remembering herself. My strokes, starting short and slow, evolved deeper and faster. Half milking my member, half trying to force it out, her conflicted cunt slowly succumbed as her ass started twitching on each entry. My phallus fucking her freely with broad easy strokes I told her what a slut she was and then felt her clench my cock hard and then start writhing wildly as she came. This tipped me over the edge and I felt my balls contract and that satisfying surge shot forth a hot load into the rubber. Smacking her ass repeatedly as I climaxed, she quivered and shivered and spasmed till she was spent. Afterward, she spent a half hour in my shower before she stopped shaking and it took another hour talking through what had happened before she was ready to leave. None of the bruising would be visible in her usual smart casual wardrobe, but the memory would linger with every time she sat down and with every step she took. Copyright (C) 2016. Written by William. Inspired by his muse, Meine Liebling Brunhilde. Find more at verydirtystorytime.tumblr.com Creative Commons 4.0 CC BY-NC. Permission given for redistribution with attribution to William and Brunhilde, for Non-commercial use only.