Shifter Rape: Second Victim - 02

Doll

Listening to Michael’s smooth words made me sick to my stomach. Like me, she was just excited about her first real job. I wanted to scream a warning. To save her. Whatever the cost to myself. But what would happen to my family? How can I put a stranger's life before theirs? Especially when it is one stranger or my entire family. Biting on my lip, I held back. Silent Tears dripped down my cheeks.

Valerie collapsed against the desk, shoving it against my back. From their conversation, I knew what had happened. Like he had done with me, Michael had tossed one of his discs at her. Coin-like discs that he used to do the impossible. Moments after catching it, she collapsed for a second. Just like I had. She probably also pricked her hand. We both had ignorantly given him a drop of our blood, something he apparently needed.

Magic. As much as I hated to believe it, after what happened with my family, I had no other choice. I believed. I did my best not to think about how he changed into a were-animal. A shifter. Doubling the size of his already intimidating penis. Further proof that magic was real.

My tongue wet my lips, and a hand reached down between my legs, running through the moisture I found there. With a shudder, I forced my hand away. Wrenching my mind away from thoughts of my rapist’s hideous cock. Beautiful cock. Shoulders shaking, I sobbed silently. God, I hated him with every fiber of my being, but my body didn’t care.

It betrayed me.

Michael said, “Here at Smilodon Tech, we seek out the young and inexperienced. It would be my pleasure to train you in the skills your position requires.”

Bile rose as I listened to Michael end his evil little spiel. The first time I heard him say those words, it had excited me. This time, it took everything I had to swallow down the bile. To stop myself from throwing up. Every vile word was accurate, just twisted. I did not want to think about what position he would train me in next.

Something I could not control, down between my legs, tightened at the thought. I resolutely ignored it.

Valerie left, closing the door behind her. Clicking high heels tapped their way into the distance. After a long moment of silence, Michael grabbed a handful of my hair and snatched me from under his desk. Onto his lap, his monstrous cock pressed between my butt cheeks, and I whimpered. Half in fear. Half in desire.

“Doll, you thought about warning her, didn’t you?”

Would he know if I lied? Could he tell? Foolish to risk it over something so obvious.

“Yes, Michael,” I said.

Cold fury radiated from Michael.

I should have lied!

“I’m going to dry fuck your asshole for failing to call me Master.”

I forgot. How could I forget? Master and Doll. Our new names.

“Master,” he said musingly, his head cocked in thought. “No, we’ll amend your contract. You don’t get to call me master. Slaves and pets call me master. You’re less than them. You’re a living sex toy. A doll. Dolls don’t have masters. They have Owners.”

I shivered. He always found a way to make things worse. I waited, while he typed and then printed a new copy of my contract. No longer Master. Owner. His cock, a solid weight pressed against me, made my body want more. Unable to help myself, I squirmed in his lap.

I took a trembling breath and forced out the words I thought most likely to cool his anger. Speaking as though I was what he forced me to become. His living sex doll. An inanimate object that only existed to please its owner.

“Owner, please forgive Doll. Doll is sorry. Doll is still learning how to serve you,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice level. I didn’t want him to hear my anger.

Instead of responding with words, he stood up and pushed me face down across his desk. I shuddered, remembering last time, knowing he was about to rape me again. Only this time, it would not be my vagina he raped. Anal sex. All I'd ever heard was that it hurt. A lot.

He didn’t care.

No, it was worse than that. He wanted to hurt me.

He was far stronger than I was, even in this human form. Anal hurt with a normal man, didn’t it? And, that was with lubricant. I whimpered. He had those agonizing penis spines, even in human form. This would… No, I couldn’t think about it.

I must submit.

I forced myself to stay limp. His doll. Unresisting. The head of his cock slid down the crease between each hemisphere of my rear, then he spread my cheeks. I let out a whimper as he lined up, his cock resting against my anus. I tried not to react, choking back whimpers as hands grasped my waist. He relentlessly forced his way inside. I screamed. Ragged and long. He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t slow.

What owner grants mercy to their sex doll?

He filled me to bursting. Every inch of his penis inside my asshole. I could hardly breathe, no matter how hard I panted. He pulled me up, my back trapped against his chest. My naked body was on display while he was still fully dressed. Only his fly pulled down. One hand snaked around and cruelly squeezed my tits. Driving his fingers deep into soft flesh.

“Understand your place, Doll. You will not warn anyone, in fact, you will participate in my games. Willingly. Anything less and I’ll not only kill your family, but I’ll also kill whoever you're trying to protect.”

I shook my head in terrified denial, but he ignored me.

“Just to prove my point…”

He ripped out. Slammed back in. I screamed, squirming wildly. Penis spines ripped free. Ravaging cock slammed back home. The pain was unendurable.

“I’ll also kill a dozen random innocents.”

How could I possibly survive this?

“I. Am. Your. Owner.”

With every word, he pulled out and thrust all the way back in. Ripping me apart.

“You are my doll.”

I screamed, “Doll understands, Owner!”

Harshly, he gripped a breast in each hand. Sharp nails, gouging like claws. Cutting into flesh. My pain was never enough for him. He always takes more.

“Doll will help,” I screamed.

Even through the nightmare this anal rape was, Master found a way to make it worse. Doll sobbed.

“Doll will be good,” I whispered.

He continued his assault as he replied, “Of course you will,” he said, voice dripping with terrifying sincerity. “Just like you will accept me in every hole. In every form.”

“I’ll die,” I sobbed, “I can’t take more. Your… other form would kill me,” God, it would be at least twice as much as this. In that half-tiger form, his cock was enormous.

“No. It’s just pain. Learn to embrace it. Your body is my canvas, and I’ll paint every inch of it with more pain that you can imagine. You will survive. My magic ensures it.”

Through the pain, I hardly noticed how my body reacted to his touch. Until I realized I was arching back against him. As though I wanted him to keep fucking. Why? What is wrong with me? Why am I reacting to him like this? He hurts me, rapes me, and I come back for more.

I sobbed harder.

His tempo increased. He slammed harder. Drove deeper. Rattled the desk. Rocked it forward with each thrust. Through the pain, an undercurrent of harsh need ran through me. Not simple rising pleasure. A need so deep it was nearly pain. Brutal pleasure. Strong arms trembled as he reached the peak of his pleasure. Finally, he rammed against me one last time. He ground into me as his cum pumped deep inside. With euphoric, blissful sighs, he worked himself out. Raking his spines free, he tore one final ragged cry of pain from my throat.

He chuckled happily.

“Such a tight little hole doll. I’m looking forward to raping it again.”

He stepped back and I curled into the fetal position, trembling hands clutching my knees. Just a few moments later, I was under his desk once again. I sobbed the pain out. Let out all the fear. The fear of Michael, the fear, the inevitability, of being used again. Most of all, I silently wept because I ached. Not just in pain, but also for him to touch me again. My fingers, I realized with horror, absently stroked between my legs. I craved release.

Oh, God! I almost forgot his earlier order. I was only allowed to orgasm from his touch. Reluctantly, I pulled my hand away. Sick with the realization that his order was all that stopped me from pleasuring myself. Without it, I would have continued masturbating at my rapist's feet. Under his desk.

Disgusted with myself, but unable to hide from that simple truth, I shivered against the side of his leg.

A sex doll is used, then shoved under the bed until it’s owner decides to use it again. Memories of the last few hours—Had it really been such a short time?—burned in my thoughts. Not a bed. Not in my case. I lifted my head up. His chair. His pants covered legs. Heavy wood surrounding me on three sides. Four, if I count the desktop above me. This little cubby was where I now stayed. Where he shoved when he finished.

As though I really was just his sex doll.

Just like he named me.