The silk sheets felt wonderful against Alyssa’s bare skin, but the mattress beneath was a completely different story, hard and unyielding. Still more than half asleep, she shifted around, seeking a softer spot, but it felt as though the entire mattress was defective. She groaned at the annoyance and opened her eyes slowly to see what was going on, and found that she was no longer in the master bedroom. She was somewhere dark and musty, laying on a cement floor. She looked down at the silk sheets she’d been enjoying, and realized that it wasn’t sheets at all beneath her, but a dress. Her wedding dress.

Alyssa sat up, confused and groggy, and winced at the sudden jolt of pain that induced. Her head felt someone had smashed it into a brick wall. “You should try to move slowly for now,” Mikey said from behind her. “The headache should wear off in a few minutes.”

She turned around to look at him and regretted the action immediately. It was like driving knives into her eyes. “Whuh… what’s going on?” she asked.

“You wanted to see the basement, remember?” Mikey said. He was sitting on a metal bench, naked, and her first thought was that it couldn’t be very comfortable on his bare ass. Cold or not, it didn’t seem to be affecting his libido as his cock hung between his legs as thick as ever.

“I… I did…” Alyssa said, still trying to work out the situation. They’d been in the bedroom, and he’d made a toast, and then… “Why am I wearing my wedding dress?”

“Because this is your wedding,” Mikey told her.

Alyssa moved her head from side to side, much more slowly this time, taking in the room they were in. Yeah, definitely the basement. It was unfinished, the walls as bare and unfriendly as the floor, but it was also well lit and appeared to be free of dust and cobwebs. There were racks of wine bottles all along one wall, which normally would’ve sparked her interest, but right now, alcohol felt like the last thing her head needed. There was also a well-stocked pantry, a couple large plastic bins filled with what looked like random junk as far as she could tell, and scattered around were a few more pieces of metal furniture like the one Mikey was sitting on. They didn’t look very comfortable, more like art installations than anything someone would relax in.

She was starting to feel a little more like herself. She must have fallen asleep, though she’d never been knocked out that quickly by a stiff drink before. And then Mikey had brought her down here? Her offhand tease about the basement and chains must have revved him harder than she thought. Well, there was nothing wrong with that. She smiled. “And you think your naughty bride needs some discipline before she walks down the aisle.”

“Something like that,” Mikey agreed, a small smile on his lips. “What happened on the beach was Lauren’s wedding. This is yours, Alyssa.”

It took her a second to realize what name he’d used, and then she froze. “I’m… what are you talking about, Mikey?”

“She never called me Mikey, you know,” he said. “That really should have been my first clue. But with… with your sister gone, I just chalked it up as some harmless quirk. Lots of people act strangely after a loved one passes. I excused a whole host of odd behaviors thanks to that. You’re really not half as good an actress as you think you are.”

Though her heart was pounding, Alyssa almost felt a smile come to her lips. So he’d finally noticed something, huh? She’d already known the ruse couldn’t last forever. But it didn’t matter. It would’ve been easier if he’d never figured it out, but it didn’t change all that much. They were still married, a marriage that had been thoroughly consummated. The worst he could do was divorce her, and she’d still get a pretty penny out of that, especially if she stuck to her story. It wasn’t like he could actually prove she wasn’t who she said she was. Heck, he might not even be convinced about it. If the alcohol had hit her that hard, it must have thrown him for a loop too, which explained why he’d do something as crazy as dragging her down here and stuffing her into her wedding dress. This could just be some paranoid delusion that would pass as long as she didn’t act like an idiot and start confessing to things.

So instead, she tried to think about how Lauren would respond. “Michael,” she said soothingly. “Are you feeling alright?”

“No, Alyssa,” Mikey said, and he sounded weary, “I am not alright. The woman I love is dead, and I made love to her murderer.”

“Why don’t we go upstairs and have a lie-down?” she suggested. “I know yesterday was a big day for both of us. I’m sure once you get some rest, you’ll feel much better.”

“There’s only one thing that will make me feel better.” He rose from his seat on the bench and began slowly approaching her, his expression determined. “Making you pay for what you did.”

Mikey was a big guy who worked out and had a job that kept him on his feet all day. Alyssa had no illusions about who would win in a physical struggle. But she felt no fear whatsoever as he came closer. He was a freaking male nurse! Just some wuss trying to act tough to get a reaction. And sure enough, he stopped well short of her, his gait becoming uncertain as she stared him down fearlessly.

“I… I can’t do it,” he said softly. “You look too much like her.”

Alyssa would’ve laughed if it wouldn’t have given away the game. Of course he couldn’t! Even if he’d been certain of exactly what she’d done, he was just a spoiled little rich boy. She gathered her dress around her and stood up, ignoring how the movement brought a pang of nausea and more sharp pain in her head. “We could both use something to eat, I think,” she said. “Come on, let’s have some lunch and get some sun. A dip in the ocean will clear your head.”

Mikey ignored her, turning towards the pantry instead. He picked up a sack of potatoes and upended it, making them bounce and scatter on the floor. Yep, her lover was wasted. He looked into the empty sack and nodded, as though he saw something he liked in there.

She was definitely going to have to kill him. She’d miss the sex, but she wasn’t going to keep going through this kind of hassle. If the idiot ended up believing her story, she’d kill him in his sleep or something. If not, she still had her knife somewhere upstairs. If she just turned on the waterworks and started begging him for forgiveness, she was certain he’d lower his guard enough to make it as easy as Lauren and Mom had been. Either way, she’d dump his body in the ocean afterward. He must have gone out for a morning swim and gotten caught up by the current, she’d tell the police. Boo hoo hoo, what a sad widow I am.

It was she who approached him this time, arms wide open for a hug. Alyssa almost hoped that he really was certain of her real identity. It was so much fun to just lie directly to his face, pretending to be someone they both knew she wasn’t. Hell, maybe she could get a couple good hate fucks out of this before she offed him. “Come here, Michael,” she cooed. “Let me give my wonderful husband a hug.” Mikey was still studying the potato sack and didn’t react to her words. She stepped closer, ready to wrap her arms around her sweet, stupid boy toy.

And then, so quickly it made her gasp, he lunged at her.

She tried to back away, but he was far too fast. Before she could stop him, he’d put the potato sack over her head and drawn it closed. Suddenly blind, she flailed her limbs, trying to strike him, but found only air. Her hands went up to the bag’s drawstring to get it off of her and were slapped away. She darted to the side, hoping to at least put some distance between them, but tripped over a potato and nearly face planted on the cement floor. As she tried to struggle to her feet, he grabbed her arms and forced them behind her back. Something rough and scratchy was wound around her wrists several times, trapping them together, and then he was hauling her to her feet.

“You bastard!” Alyssa yelled through the bag, trying without any success to break free from his hold on her. All thoughts of pretending to be Lauren had gone out the window, replaced by raw fury. This son of a bitch thought he could manhandle her like this?! “I’m gonna rip your goddamn nuts off and shove them up your ass, you motherfucker!”

Instead of replying, Michael dragged her a little ways, then forced her down to her knees. She felt cold metal on her stomach through the wedding dress and realized that he’d put her lengthwise on the same bench he’d been seated at. Her belly and tits were both pressed against the hard surface, her knees on either side of it. She tried to rise but felt a great weight settle on her back, as though he was sitting on her. Something went around her neck, closing shut with a sharp click, and she found that she could no longer lift her head. Whatever the thing on her neck was it was connected to the bench somehow, and stopped her from raising her head more than a few inches. The weight on her back disappeared, and a moment later, she heard her dress tearing and felt cool air on her now exposed crotch.

“You pencil dicked piece of shit!” she yelled. “You can’t do this to me, you fucking asshole! If you don’t let me go right the fuck now, I’m gonna kill you, I’m gonna kill your stupid fucking father, I’m gonna burn your entire fucking hospital down!” She squirmed, but she couldn’t move very far, and he was pinning her legs down, leaving them spread open and immobile.

Alyssa felt a familiar hardness rub against her slit. She’d welcomed Michael’s cock into her dozens of times now, but those had all been different. She’d been wet and more than ready for him, not bone dry and tied up in some fucking basement. “Don’t!” she screamed, still far more angry than afraid. This wasn’t someone dangerous, it was Mikey. She didn’t care if it was the alcohol making him like this or something else; whatever he did to her in the next few minutes, she was going to make him fucking pay afterward. The police wouldn’t even be able to identify what she’d dump in the ocean later.

He shoved.

Alyssa screamed again, no words behind it this time, as his thick prick drove into her dry tunnel. It wasn’t just his size or her lack of moisture that made the penetration the most painful moment of her life. Always before, there had been a gentleness to the way Michael made love to her. Even when he was riding her hard, he would be careful not to hurt her, to ensure that what he was doing felt just as good to her as it did to him. There was no trace of that gentleness in him now. He rammed his hips against her ass like he was trying to impale her with his dick, and it certainly felt like it. By the time he bottomed out in her, her insides felt like they’d been scraped raw, and she was certain she was bleeding.

Alyssa’s head felt dizzy, and it was pounding even harder than when she’d first woken up. It was the bag, she realized. Though she was taking great heaving gasps, it felt like when she’d held her breath for too long. The sack was cinched to tight to let oxygen through, and she was suffocating in it. For the first time, panic began to outweigh anger. She could die like this! “Can’t breathe!” she cried out. “Take it – take it off! Can’t – killing me!”

She felt both of his hands on her head, and she relaxed ever so slightly. No matter what else this madman might do, he wasn’t just going to let her suffocate to death.

He slammed her head down face first into the metal bench.

Alyssa screamed in shock at the sudden explosion of pain. Almost before it had left her lips, Michael pulled her head back and slammed it down again, even harder than before. Alyssa could feel wet blood on the inside of the sack, and her entire face was a mass of agony. He’d broken her nose, she could tell that much. By now, her head hurt far worse than her crotch, but not for long. As he smashed her face into the bench a third time, and then a fourth, each blow more painful than the last, she felt his cock moving inside of her, starting to fuck her.

Her arms twisted against her restraints, chafing her wrists bloody as she fought to escape the sudden nightmare she’d found herself in. It hurt but compared to everything else she barely noticed it. Far more distracting was the way her chest and belly burned as they were scraped back and forth against the unforgiving metal, now warmed by her flesh. Each push and pull of her body felt like hot sandpaper scrubbing her flesh.

And even that was nothing compared to the throbbing agony of her head. Before long, she found herself longing for the escape that passing out would offer, but she wasn’t that lucky. The sack around her head didn’t completely cut off her air, just restrict it enough to make her lungs burn and head swim. And every few seconds, her face would be smashed against the hard metal bench again, over and over without mercy.

And even all of that was nothing compared to her aching cunt. Michael’s fat cock was burrowing through her insides, transforming her entire pussy into a single raw, tender wound. Every time he pushed back into her, her face made contact with the bench, a devastating rhythm that left her crying helplessly. Even the saltiness of her tears added more misery to her experience as they ran over injured flesh.

There was only one small mercy to the experience: Michael finished quickly, shooting his hot cum against her bruised insides. Alyssa’s rape took no more than five minutes, though it was the longest five minutes of her life. When he rolled her over and took off the bag, she just sobbed for a while. Everything hurt. Everything hurt so fucking much, and he wasn’t even raping her anymore.

Michael presented her with a mirror, and she finally saw her wretched appearance. He’d mutilated her. Her nose was broken in at least four different places, and she’d lost multiple teeth. She had two ugly black eyes, both of them so puffy and swollen that she almost couldn’t keep them open. Her cheeks and lips were red and bloody from various cuts and bruises. She cried even harder at the sight of herself, and the complete loss of her beauty.

Michael nodded with satisfaction. “Now you don’t remind me of her anymore,” he said, and to her horror, his cock pressed against her again, already as hard as she’d ever felt it. She didn’t have time to do more than whimper before he drove himself into her, making her already sore pussy feel like he was shoving a hot poker in.

“Please,” she screamed, “no mo-ggrrk!” His hands were wrapped around her throat, denying her speech and breath. They squeezed around her neck, throttling her as his dick pumped in and out of her. She thrashed in place, arms trapped painfully beneath herself, legs twitching uselessly to either side of Michael. She felt like nothing more than a slab of meat being tenderized as he raped and choked her, his movements cold and brutal.

What made it worse, what made her want to scream with humiliation and claw his eyes out, was that even this they’d done before. It had been her idea, even, to try out breathplay. She’d lain in bed in just this position, with his cock in her cunt and his hands on her neck. But that experience had been as different from this one as night and day. He’d moved in her softly and slowly, stimulating her every nerve, while his hands gently squeezed, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of her shuddering body.

Michael must have been remembering that too, because his face twisted with disgust. “Do you know how hard it was not to choke you to death that night? Put an end to you right then and there? The one and only thing that stopped me was knowing that you wouldn’t suffer enough.” His eyes stared into hers, boring into her every bit as intensely as his cock. “You’re going to spend the rest of your life suffering, Alyssa, and I promise to make it a long one. Hurting you won’t bring Lauren back, but the least I can do is make you spend every last second of your existence regretting what you did to her.”

He slammed into her with all his weight on each thrust, making her buck with every impact. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth as her vision grew dark, but just before the bliss of oblivion, his hands eased up, and she reflexively took a long, gasping breath. That was all he allowed her before squeezing tight again, starting the process over. For the next fifteen minutes, Alyssa lived only at her husband’s mercy, every breath she was allowed carefully meted out to keep her conscious but miserable. And all the while his fat cock drilled into her, each thrust intended to cause nothing but pain. Already exhausted from struggling, she laid as limp as a ragdoll on the bench, completely at his mercy, and being shown over and over that he had none for her.

She knew what it meant when he started speeding up, recognizing the telltale sign that she’d once greeted with delight: he was about to cum. There was no room in her oxygen-starved brain for humiliation, only gratitude: it would soon be over. But her torture wasn’t done yet. As she reached the verge of passing out, a threshold that she’d become horribly familiar with in the last few minutes, Michael didn’t let up. Her blood pounded in her ears as she realized his intent to deny her even the meager breath he had before.

“When you wake up,” he said, as the world grew dark around her, “the real punishment will begin.” The last thing she felt before she slipped away completely was the warm spurt of his cum inside her.


Michael sat the bench, clenching and unclenching his fingers on the knife in his hands, and trying to remember why he wasn’t using it to cut Alyssa’s throat.

It was maddening. He had beaten her face, and now that she had stopped pretending and taken off the mask her attitude meant that she looked almost nothing like Lauren… but when she was passed out, when she wasn’t acting… she acted so much like her twin that it hurt. The way she curled her fingers. The way her nose twitched when she was cold. The way she drooled out of the corner of her mouth. It was exactly the same. They were exactly the same.

Except in every single way that fucking mattered.

His fingered clenched on the knife again. If he had had any doubted, any single shreds of doubt, he had lost them when Alyssa had dropped the act by promising to kill him. She hadn’t just taken Lauren’s place… she had killed the woman he loved. Knowing that, it was very hard to remember why he didn’t kill her and just let her body drift out to sea. It wouldn’t be enough suffering for her… but it would make him feel better. For a minute, at least.

Alyssa began to stir, groaning as she woke up. Michael clenched the knife one more time before stabbing it back down into the bench and leaving it there, picking up the bullwhip he had gotten out. Then he stood where she should be able to see him when her eyes fluttered open.

While Alyssa had been out, he had taken time to rearrange her. Her hands were tied up above her head, but not tightly leashed… the rope had plenty to give to it. If it were her only binding, she would be able to walk at least a few steps in any direction, but keeping her restricted wasn’t the point – Michael just wanted her hands up and out of the way. The real binding was the noose around her neck. While Alyssa had lain unconscious, he had strung her up by her neck at the perfect height for her to stand on the balls of her feet. Any movement she made away from the very center of the arrangement, and anything less than enthusiastically standing up as tall as she could, and the slipknot would tighten and choke her, leaving her hanging from the ceiling by the neck until she could regain her footing.

While she had been unconscious, he had leaned her against her bonds and put a box underneath her. Now he kicked it out from under her and let her wake up choking.

Alyssa’s eyes jerked open as she began to choke, bulging out as her feet brushed at the ground, trying instinctively to find someplace to put them to hold her up. The ground was close enough for her to brush it constantly but not find any consistent purchase until he found where she needed to put them – it took almost a full minutes for her to figure it out and settle into the uncomfortable position that let her breathe. Then she started glaring at him. “You… son of a bitch…”

She didn’t look at all like Lauren anymore. It made the whip feel light in his hands. “Welcome back,” he spat at Alyssa as she kept glaring at him. “I hope you are enjoying your wedding so far, Alyssa… but I’m afraid I need to bring another problem to your attention. You see… that’s Lauren’s dress. Take it off.”

He waited while she stood on her toes, straining to keep herself from suffocating. “And how do you want me to do that you bastard?” she hissed.

Michael narrowed his eyes. “Not my problem,” he said. “Take it off, or I’ll take it off you.”

“Then take it off me you piece of shit!” she snapped back at him.

Michael shrugged. “As you insist.” He drew back the whip.

“Wait!” Alyssa said, panic in her voice. “What are yo-” The heavy whip slashed across her left thigh, right through the white fabric of the dress. Alyssa’s words cut off as she barely stifled a scream, half of pain, and half enraged surprise. Then, a second later, she choked. On raw reflex, she had flinched the leg up and away from the pain, which sent her to the side and strangled her with the noose again.

Michael waited while she recovered, got her feet back under her… he wasn’t in any kind of a hurry and wanted to make sure she could experience every second of this. While he waited for her to find her feet again, he examined the gap in her clothing. The first strike of the whip had torn a wide gash in the once pristine white dress, but the welt beneath it on Alyssa’s shapely thigh wasn’t bleeding. The wedding dress was absorbing just enough of the impacts to keep her skin from breaking… for now.

“Asshol- Agh!” He lashed the whip across her back, cutting through the fabric there. She didn’t lose her footing this time, so he hit her again, and then a third time, opening three more tears in her dress as she screamed – a pained, spiteful scream more than a terrified one, but he would build up to that. The next strike landed on her right calf, where there was no dress to protect her but merely a stocking. That one drew blood, and her scream was louder. Good.

“Stop it!” she shrieked after she regained her footing again. “I’ll take it off! Untie me, and I’ll take it off!” A fear tears flowed down her cheek. She seemed genuinely grateful as he approached her instead of continuing to whip her. “Thank you!” she said, seeming genuinely pleased for a bit of mercy. “Thank you, I’ll do wh-”

Alyssa cut off as he pushed the ring-gag into her mouth, grabbing onto her hair to hold her in place while he pushed it past her teeth. Michael tightened the strap around the back of her head. “You’re annoying,” he said simply before he backed up again. “You already made your choice. Live with it.” Then he began to whip her again.

Gagged like this, she couldn’t speak… she could only scream. Michael quickly set about making sure that screaming was precisely what she did. He circled the hanging woman to hit her from every angle, doing his best to make her step in a direction and choke herself. Each time she did, he paused until she could recover… the best to feel every single kiss of the bullwhip. He landed one across her taut stomach, followed immediately by another on her thigh. She stumbled, so he waited until she was standing again, then lashed her across the left breast. That made her shriek in earnest and jerk so far back that it took her nearly a minute to regain her footing once again, letting Michael appreciate the sight of her sexy body writhing in pain, the wedding dress already hanging off her in tatters.

Since hitting her tits had caused such a lovely response, he immediately did it again… first one, then the other. The fabric beneath them, bolstered by a corset, held up better than most of the dress… it took until the fourth lash for the fabric to tear enough to reveal the bright welt it had drawn right across her right nipple. Alyssa screamed like a banshee. She was proud… arrogant, really… but he could all but feel her resolve waning. Any desire not to scream was evaporating as it dawned on her how completely helpless she was. She could not dodge the whip, she could not fight back, and she could not even give in to what he wanted – all Alyssa could do was writhe and suffocate and scream.

One after the other, Michael rained blows onto her. The dress was in tatters by now… what little was left of it hung off her body in shreds. Far more of it was laying on the floor in white shreds. Her body was back to being completely on display, covered in welts as she was systematically revealed by the whip. He slashed it across her legs again, taking in the moan that rose in her throat right before causing another scream as he lashed her exposed ass where nothing but tatters remained to cover her. Michael watched and enjoyed as the tight buns of her rear flexed under the sting of the blow before he followed it up by whipping her side, and then her stomach… forcing her to stumble in a circle under his whipped instructions. The lashes climbed up her athletic body, now mostly naked, up to her clenching fists, and then moved down again through her stretched, long arms, where the muscles flexed on each blow, to the round, proud breasts now undergoing another barrage of strikes among her drawn out, muffled shrieks, and finally to the front of thighs again.

After another strike which removed the last tatter of the corset from her tits, Michael let one of his pauses draw out and finally dropped the whip, moving over to where Alyssa was panting and whimpering. He grabbed her welted tits, squeezing them and watched the blood seep from the cuts the whip had made in her, making her scream again as her sore, sensitive flesh was abused beneath his hands. “Do you know how I proposed to Lauren?” he asked softly, thumbs flicking over her nipples. She winced as he touched the one with a welt across it. “It was about nine months after I met her,” he said softly. “The first time I saw your twin, I knew she was something special. She was in the hospital with your mother, and I was explaining a treatment to her, and Lauren walked in. Most family members don’t really pay attention… but Lauren did. Three weeks later was the first time I saw her cry.”

He ran one hand down her side, tracing his way over every welt on her body and enjoying the way she whimpered. “There’s a garden with benches and fountains out by the cafeteria. You wouldn’t know that, because you never once visited your dying mother, but it’s quite beautiful… sometimes we take inpatients there to get some fresh air, to feel the sun. Anyway, Alana was having a bad day – did you ever know your mother spent two weeks unresponsive? – And Lauren went somewhere private to break down, so if her mother was aware enough to feel her, she wouldn’t have to hear it. That was where I found her.”

Michael let go of Alyssa, walking back to pick up his knife again before returning. “I just wanted to comfort her. That’s what people – real people, not snakes like you – do when they see someone hurt, Alyssa… they try to help them. I must have startled her, though… she jumped to her feet so quickly she stumbled, tripped over the bench, and fell over backward onto the rocks.” He shook his head sadly as he looked at his reflection in the knife’s blade. “The first time I touched her was when I helped carry her into the hospital herself. She needed two dozen stitches across her back where she opened it up. It wasn’t a great start… and it never fully healed.”

He traced a finger over the space between Alyssa’s shoulder blades, just below where her neck met her shoulders. “Our relationship should have ended there, but she laughed about it. Someone else started taking care of Alana soon after… and we started seeing one another. She often joked that she had literally fallen for me that day… joked that she was lucky to carry a small reminder with her of how much I cared. When I proposed to her about eight months after that, it was in that garden.”

He drove two fingers hard into the space where Lauren’s scar should have been… if this had been Lauren and not her whore of a sister. “And you don’t have it,” he hissed. “Everything started making a lot more sense after that.” He lay the cold flat of the knife against her skin, making her squirm. “Your sister carried a scar for me… something that showed her what I meant to her. Only fair you do the same.” Then he turned the blade down and began to cut.

Alyssa started to scream in earnest as he sank the knife into her back, loudly enough that it got annoying, so Michael pushed her forward with his weight until the noose tightened too much for her to keep screaming. Then he resumed cutting. He wasn’t careful about it… he didn’t care how messy it looked. In fact, the uglier the better, as long as anyone who ever saw her would be able to read it. ‘M U R D E R I N G W H O R E’ he wrote in two sloppy lines of crimson letters across her back. By the time he was finished, even her choking attempts at screams had stopped… she was barely shuddering anymore, and she had lost consciousness.

It was so tempting to just leave her like that…

But that would be better than she deserved.

Undoing the ropes that held her up, he allowed the suffocating Alyssa to drop to the ground, unconsciously taking huge gasping breaths of air before he began to move her. He unbound her wrists before moving them behind her back, tying the rope through the hook in the ceiling she had just been hanging from and continuing to tighten it until it forced her body to bend over at the waist to keep her shoulders from dislocating. He then bound the noose around her neck to a ring in the floor before grabbing a bucket of water, still with ice floating in it, and throwing it in her face.

Alyssa woke screaming, her body shaking viciously as she took in the naked Michael standing before her. “Welcome back, he said again. “You know, there are all sorts of things a bad sister like you probably didn’t know about Lauren. You probably thought she was boring because she wouldn’t do whatever stupid things you wanted her to do, because she wouldn’t get high with you or rip off gas stations or whatever dumb ideas went through your slut brain. She wasn’t. She was willing to try pretty much anything. Everything I enjoyed, every hobby I had, she was willing to try. Some of them she liked, and we could do them together. Some of them she didn’t, and there was no harm in that… but I could always count on her to try anything I asked her to.”

He glared down at Alyssa. “But some things I just wouldn’t ever ask, because she’s better than that. You’re not.” Michael pointed down at his cock. “I’m going to force this up your ass in a few minutes.” He loved the way her eyes widened. Michael size wasn’t something he took any pride in – why should he be proud of a random genetic feature – but he knew that he was far above the average size for a man. In imagining how it would feel for him to force his way into her, Michael couldn’t imagine any result for Alyssa other than absolute agony. “But I know you love sucking on my cock… so I’m going to give you a chance. I have a chest of fun things down here to use on you, but when I went shopping I didn’t bother to buy any lube. If you want it anything less than bone dry, you are going to have to suck on it really well and make it wet.”

Alyssa had been gagging on his cock on a nearly daily basis for the last month… probably because she liked having him between her teeth. That had made her feel powerful. Now there would be none of that power… with her mouth held open, she would truly be at his mercy. Predictably she turned her head away from him, refusing to anything to help him, even if it would make her own life easier. Michael shrugged in response to her defiance. “Have it your way cunt,” he said.

Then he grabbed her head and rammed his prick past her lips.

Bound strappado the way she was, her head and hips were both at the perfect height for him, and he had a straight shot to the back of her throat. She tried to resist but in her current state she really couldn’t do a thing to stop him as he simply gripped onto her blonde hair and pulled her head towards his crotch, impaling the very opening of her throat on his thick cock as it was forced deeper into Alyssa’s mouth than it had ever gone before.

She had tried to deep throat him before, he knew. Times since he had learned who she really was, while he had been forced to keep pretending he didn’t… until he could get her alone, away from everyone. He was too big for her to do it to herself, he knew. Though he was fairly sure that the slut had taken other men into her throat before, she had never managed to take him. Now he didn’t intend to offer her a choice. Alyssa gagged in earnest as she felt her throat close around the head of his cock, almost entirely cutting off her air on that very first thrust. Then, as her eyes began welling with tears, Michael gripped tighter onto her hair and began to steadily fuck her mouth just like he had her cunt.

No matter what Alyssa had done with past men in her life, he intended to make sure there was a brutal to this she had never felt before. Michael’s cock slammed down her throat as forcefully as he could, his hands gripping her head in a vise-like grip that did not allow her to escape at all, no matter how hard she might try… each thrust forcing himself a little bit further down into her. Her throat was even tighter than her pussy, and it spasmed on him desperately like it was milking him. Within seconds true tears were running down her cheeks, her eyes wide with terror as she looked up at him. “That’s right,” he growled. “It fits. I hope it hurts.”

He pounded Alyssa’s poor, sore throat until he had managed to fit his entire length into her… a process that only took a handful of vicious seconds but probably felt far longer to the murdering fucktoy hanging in front of him. Once he had impaled her complete, he left his length in there for a minute while she gagged and choked, her throat clenching on him like it was trying to jack him off. With her throat constricted by cock and gagging so hard she could not breathe even a whisper anymore, he watched as Alyssa’s eyes began to roll back into her head. “No, none of that,” he warned, yanking himself all the way out and letting her take a single, gasping, wet breath before she began coughing. On the first cough, he slammed his way back down into her throat and continued to rape her mouth as a frantic pace. Her gagging made almost a music to him as his balls slapped heavily against her drool-slick chin as the woman he hated more than anything had her face raped for the first time.

Only when her gagging began to subside again, and her ass no longer shook with the attempt to wriggle free, did he let up – pulling out his cock just a heartbeat before she could truly faint. Gasping, a thick stands of precum and her own drool connecting that awful cock to her chin, Alyssa gulped in deep, greedy mouthfuls of air… right before he slapped her. “Lauren deserved this vacation,” he hissed. “She deserved the wedding and the flowers, the music, and pretty dresses. This… this is all you deserve. Who the fuck do you think you are, slut?” A second later rammed his cock past her lips again, pushing it deep down her throat without pause, making her gag harder than ever before.

As he swelled further inside of her, it made her throat even tighter… made every single bump and ridge a new torment on her sore hole. Long strands of sloppy drool hung down Alyssa’s chin, and she gargled desperately around his too-thick shaft. He wouldn’t stop, though. He just kept fucking her and fucking her until he couldn’t hold back anymore. With a loud moan of pleasure, he sheathed himself down her throat and erupted, filling her neck with wave after wave of hot cum.

The worst part of cumming down her neck like that was that she couldn’t taste it, but as he pulled out Michael was glad to see that she solved that problem for him by immediately coughing, over and over… spilling come of his cum out over her lips, face, and chin. The rest she had no choice but to swallow – he had practically pumped it directly into her stomach. He stood there, watching and glaring at her, several strands of cum bridging the distance between his cockhead and her trembling lips. “It’s a good hole,” he admitted as he pulled her head a bit closer by her hair again, making her whimper. “But not a good performance.” Slowly, so she could see exactly what he was doing, he used her hair like a rag to dry his cock off. She didn’t seem to recognize the significance at first. Perhaps after he had cum down her throat, she thought he would be finished – or perhaps she had thought he was bluffing.

He wasn’t, and he wasn’t.

The moment he felt his dick couldn’t get any drier from her hair, he let go of her head and let it sag as he walked around behind her. Taking a second to admire the way her posture revealed the tiny star shape of a far too small asshole, he bellied up against her welted, bleeding ass. Alyssa was still coughing too much to scream, but the way she wriggled her ass made him think she had a horrific idea of what was coming. He gripped onto her whipped cheeks hard enough that he made her skin go pale as he lined his cock up with her abruptly stationary target and slamming himself forward.

Michael shoved as if he intended for his cock to take her in a single thrust. There wasn’t a prayer of that. The head of his cock jammed at the entrance of her virgin asshole, and Alyssa screamed. It wasn’t comfortable for him either, truth be told… he could have slathered even a tiny bit of spit on his cock or even some of her tears and it would have made this so much easier… but he was going to do it properly… and properly meant making this as perfectly painful as he could. Instead of yielding, he continued to push… ignoring the pain and letting Alyssa’s howling motivate him.

When his cock finally popped into her, she shrieked. Michael shoved, lunged, thrust, and pounded his way into her dry fuck-hole a tenth of an inch at a time, each pump forcing her tight ass a little bit further, pushing him in a little deeper. In truth it hurt like hell, like someone was rubbing sandpaper on his dick, but every time he even considered taking it easier he watched the way Alyssa writhed on his cock – she was screaming in pain, blubbering as she wordlessly begging for mercy with tears dripping down her face like a river. The more he hurt, the more he had it hurt for her. And that made anything a good trade.

Once he had managed to cram a couple of inches in, it got significantly easier for him. Alyssa’s bleeding ass was starting to lubricate him a little, and now that he had some room to work with he could start fucking her properly, each of his thrusts forcing its way a little bit deeper into her untouched hole. Alyssa screamed at every movement… music to his ears as he broke in her asshole.

Once he finally made it in to the hilt and his balls slapped against her pussy, he started pumping her harder, riding her tight ass. The pain was past him now… his cock felt sore, but it was a pleasant kind compared to what had come earlier. Now he was free to enjoy the tightest hole on Alyssa’s murdering body… almost. He leaned forward. “Even for someone like you, Alyssa… I’m not heartless. I would be willing to show you mercy… but you made me miss Lauren’s funeral. You took me back home and fucked me instead, letting me think I was helping you.” He grabbed onto the noose around her neck with both hands and yanked back, making her eyes bug out as he pulled her against the fat cock impaling her. “This is for that.”

Then he started to truly fuck her, as hard as he possibly could.

As much as he wanted to savor this, breaking in the only truly virgin hole that his “wife” had, she was just too damn tight, too damn good of a ride… like her ass was trying to crush his cock. Even if she hadn’t been screaming he doubted he would have lasted long… but the pain and suffering that she was experiencing, the pain and suffering she so badly deserved, made him impossibly hard inside of her. He just wasn’t going to last… so he didn’t bother to try. He just choked her as hard as he could, not letting up even a little bit as he pounded her ass as hard as he could, letting Alyssa “enjoy” her agony and breathlessness and utter helplessness as he fucked her like the whore she was. Alyssa was sobbing like a baby, and her face had turned red by the time he came in her asshole, and when he ripped his way out the mix of cum and blood and shit that coating his cock was disgusting… but he didn’t do anything about it. Not yet.

He let Alyssa catch her breath, sobbing even harder as he had air to cry properly. Then he reached down and picked up the whip, and watched Alyssa’s eyes open wide in horror. “You can do better,’ Michael said coldly. “Let’s start over and see how you’ve improved.” Then he lifted whip and began to bring it down on her naked body again. He would see how many bleeding welts he could open in her skin now that the dress wasn’t there to help shield her. Then her mouth, cleaning him off. Then her ass again. Then the whip… until he just couldn’t get hard anymore. Then he would find something else to do to hurt her.

To punish her.

“Welcome to your honeymoon, Alyssa,” he growled over her scream as the whip crashed down onto her ass. “I hope it’s everything you deserve.”

5 thoughts on “Surrogate 2 – …Have Violent Ends

  1. Absolutely loving it! It might be one of my favourite stories ever (and it’s just the second chapter)!
    The one thing I can’t say I disliked but… when I was reading this chapter I soooo regretted it wasn’t entirely from Alyssa’s perspective. I’d love to be in her head during her assrape…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yeah. I struggled with that, too. I wanted to show her suffering from her perspective but…

      This time, what won out was the desire to show what raping her dry did to him. How it hurt like fuck and he just did not give a shit. How making her suffer was worth it to him. Important to show how little Alyssa is worth to him 🙂

      This might have been her first assrape, but it won’t be her worst 🙂 I’ll make sure we’re in her head for those 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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