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Subject: {ASSM} {t'Sade} Puppy Mill [35/58] Retroactive Rape (MF sub magic, Mg? nc mc magic anal)
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On her way to work, Merrie was kidnapped off the streets of Franome City
by a thriban named Bass. It didn't take long before she found out her
fate: to be broken, trained as a puppy sex slave, and sold to the
highest bidder. But, what started as a journey of terror became
something else when she found magic in her submission and a destiny that
went far beyond a mere slave.

Puppy Mill 36: Retroactive Rape
by t'Sade

Merrie wanted Fucker to never stop. As long as he was fucking her, she
wasn't bonding. But when Fucker stopped, Merrie was lost. At least until
someone new invaded her thoughts.

(MF sub magic, Mg? nc mc magic anal)

**

Merrie didn't have a care in the world anymore. Her body tingled with
the endless waves of orgasms that rippled through her veins. It wasn't
the sensation of bonding, but the overwhelming pleasure of submitting to
a creature that wanted only one thing: to fuck her. Fucker's cock had
become her world, long minutes of slamming into her body and stuffing
her completely punctuated only by a brief pauses when he switched to a
different hole.

Even when his immense shaft wasn't pounding into her, the pleasure still
came out by the rivers of cum that poured out of her pussy and ass. Each
spurt of cum or drip of her juices tickled against her pleasure. Her
belly was hot and full from her swallowing as much as she could, but
Merrie didn't bother trying to keep all of it in her mouth. Cum coated
her chin, throat, and breasts.

More of it glazed her face and she didn't remember the last time she
opened her eyes. It stung when she did, so she remained blinded to
anything but the cock that dominated her. Not being able to see Fucker
somehow added to her pleasure and sated the hungers inside her. She
didn't know if he was going to grab her ass, spread her cheeks, and ram
inside. Or flip her on the hot mud and pound her cunt until she let out
a gurgling scream.

It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered. She was safe on Fucker's
cock. There was no danger of bonding, of ruining any of the master's
lives on the mill. She loved them, she wanted to be with them, but she
also knew that the mill wasn't her life. She was a bitch. She was broken
and trained and soon to be sold.

Merrie wished she could be fucked into oblivion by the huge cock that
stretched her body. If time could pass and she would wake up with a new
master. She wanted to bond, she could feel the empty place in her heart
where her master should be, but the idea of letting that connection
finally form terrified her. It was easier to lose herself in the throes
of an orgasm and let Fucker dominate her body and let her mind free.

For a mindless creature, Fucker was never boring. The positions were
random, sometimes painful, sometimes incredible. He grabbed whatever
body part he could find and found a hole to fuck it. She realized he was
holding with one huge hand clamped over her breasts, fingers digging
into the meat, and the other wrapped around her knee. She was
half-falling out of his hands but his cock held her up.

Stroke after stroke, he drove into her. Even after all the time she was
impaled by it, his cock still was huge inside her. It kept sliding into
her, her nerves scraping against the cum-soaked ridges and bumps. It
reached the apex deep inside her and ecstasy exploded inside her. As he
withdrew, she whimpered at the emptiness his cock left behind, even
knowing that it would be filled a heartbeat later.

Her body jerked with his thrust. The large balls smacked against her
clitoris, adding another bolt of pleasure. She opened her mouth to moan;
the cum that coated her face splashed on her tongue and she gulped at
it, enjoying the taste and heat as it rolled down her throat.

She was slumped against him, her legs splayed obscenely as he drove deep
into her pussy. She didn't bother keeping her head up and just let it
smack against the ground with every thrust. She could feel her hair
sliding through the cum and it dripping from her ears, but she didn't
care. Half-heartily, she braced her short arms against the ground and
enjoyed the feeling of mud sliding around the tips of her wrists; it
didn't matter if she tried to do anything, Fucker used her body any way
he wanted.

His cock swelled inside her. It grew longer and thicker, hotter and
harder, until it stretched out her insides. The tip punched against her
cervix with every thrust, pain and pleasure mixing as he slammed his
cock against the entrance to her womb. If it wasn't for the magical
charms plastered to her chest, she would have been impregnated a
thousand times over.

Cum poured out of him, a hard jet that blasted against her insides. She
felt it filling in every crevice, every niche of pleasure inside of her,
before it jetting out of her tightly stretched entrance. Hot liquid
splashed down, coating her thighs before adding to the mud and muck
beneath her.

Merrie gasped as she kept coming. A wave of pleasure that left sparks of
pleasure across her vision. She tried to squeeze down on her pussy, to
add to the friction, but her inner muscles refuse to tighten. He had
broken her and she loved the feeling of being filled.

Fucker released her and she fell off his cock. The hardness slipping out
of her pussy sent her over the edge again and she came as the ridges and
swollen veins rubbed against her nerves. She hit the ground with a wet
smack, felt more than heard, and she slumped for a moment.

She tasted the ground, the earth frothed with cum and juices. She didn't
remember when it ceased to be hard-packed earth but Fucker kept coming
and only so much could cling to her skin. She moaned and tried to get to
her knees.

It was only in the briefest of pauses that she had a chance to make any
influence on the cock about to impale her. Fucker would take any hole he
wanted, but if she presented an orifice, he usually took it. He never
slept, he never paused. Hour after hour. She knew she dozed during sex,
but it didn't matter. She fell asleep from an orgasm and woke up coming.

Slipping on the ground, she pulled herself into the begging position.
Her knees slid through the mud as she sat up. She could barely tell what
was up and down with her eyes covered, but it felt natural as she spread
her legs wide and opened her mouth expectantly.

Any moment, he would grab her head and his cock would punch into her
throat. She gulped and held out her tongue, anxious to taste fresh cum
pouring down her throat and into her swollen belly. Her pussy throbbed
from the feeling of emptiness, but the globs of cum still dripping out
of her sent tiny little thrills across her senses. She squirmed and
lifted her cum-soaked tail from the ground to wag it slowly.

She didn't know if where he was. More than a few times, she had gotten
into that position, only to be thrown face-first into the mud and have
her ass impaled. She smiled and wagged faster, arched her back to
present a tempting target of ass and mouth.

It didn't matter.

It took her a moment to realize that no cock impaled her. Merrie
struggled with the concept of time and she opened her mouth wider to
accept the monster cock.

Nothing hard was shoved into her.

She frowned and arched her back more, pushing her dripping breasts up
higher as she waited.

Nothing.

Something moved in front of her, but it wasn't the heavy charge of
Fucker. Merrie tensed up as she waited for cock, but it didn't come.

She didn't realize someone was touching her until small fingers scooped
the cum off her throat before pressing palms against her slick skin. It
wasn't the massive grip of Fucker; he only clamped the side of her head
to position his cock. Instead, the fingertips ran along her jaw as the
new person cupped her chin in the curve between their finger and thumb.

(Close your mouth.) A new, commanding voice rocketed through her mind.
It was filled with warmth but also hard as steel. It also plucked a
memory from Merrie's past, of sitting on her grandfather's lap and
holding his newspaper. He used to hold her tightly to his chest,
commanding her to change pages when he finished reading.

She felt a tear welling up underneath all the cum. She missed her
grandfather and now she felt him. (Grampy?)

(No,) came the curt response, (I'm just borrowing your memory of him.
Now, stop projecting and be quiet.)

A tickle spread across her mind. The stranger was looking across her
thoughts and exploring her mind. There was a deftness as he forced
himself deeper, but no emotion came down through the connection except
for a disinterested boredom. She felt the flicker of her emotions and
memories, like vague dreams, as he probed into her innermost privacy.
Flashes of her life bubbled up and popped: her first blow job, the day
she was fired, the morning before Bass stole her away and turned her
into the bitch she had become. She felt exposed as he peeled apart her
life and inspected each bit with a blasÃ(C) curiosity.

A frustration blossomed inside her mind. After watching him pick through
her teenage years without a comment, the emotions turned to anger. She
wrapped herself in her shields, the dog outfit, and pulled it tight. The
sensation of being wrapped gave her comfort and his probing grew
fainter. Merrie focused on the sensations, bound from head to toe. A gag
in her mouth. Dildos shoved into her ass and pussy. The pressure inside
and out protected her and she let out a long shuddering breath at the
relief.

(That,) there was reluctant amusement in the stranger's thoughts, (is
one of the most interesting shields I had ever seen. Did you actually
think it would stop me?) To make a point, he jammed his thoughts back
into her mind and pulled up Merrie's cherished memory of her grandfather.

> She was six again and sitting on her grandfather's lap just like they
> did every Thireday morning. He owned a country farmer and the view
> off his back porch stretched out across fields and windbreaks. The
> early mornings were a private time for them, hours before her parents
> woke up.

> Merrie wore a summer dress. It was blue, but she had forgotten the 
> color until the memories came back to her. The light fabric draped 
> across her young body and slipped between her legs. She could feel it
> tickling her bare ass and one fold caressed the hairless skin right
> above her sex.

She struggled with the memory. She wore underwear when she was younger,
her family wasn't poor like the others. But, the clarity of the memory
insisted that she wore nothing but a thin, almost translucent dress as
she straddled her grandfather's thighs.

> The ritual was the same every morning. She would sit on his lap and 
> hold open his newspaper, delivered right as he was making his tea. He
> would read over her shoulders, his breath tickling her ear as he read
> the words. She couldn't read, so he distracted her by cupped her hip
> with one hand. With his other hand, he was inching underneath her 
> dress. She could feel the wrinkled fingers caressing and parting her 
> legs.

Merrie fought back a moan. The pleasure she felt was not the pleasure of
a young, innocent girl. It was the boiling heat of her pussy, the same
familiar sensation she experienced every day. She never had an orgasm
before she was eighteen, but the memory of her grandfather slipping his
fingers into her hairless pussy were bringing the intoxicating heat back
to the fore. She gasped, both her physical body and the mental image of
herself at six.

> Her young body shifted in discomfort. She could feel moisture 
> dripping down the crack of her ass. She tried to pull away, but he 
> pinned her down by sliding his other hand across her belly and 
> crushing him against his chest.

> "No, flower, keep holding it open." His whisper was kind and caring,
>  but the hand spreading open her pussy was anything but
> grandfatherly. He found her clitoris and circled in slowly. "Turn the
> page, flower."

> As she struggled to turn the page while squirming on his lap, he 
> curled a finger around the curve of her sex and wormed it into her 
> pussy. It was tight and virginal. She had all of the sexuality of a 
> sex slave but the body of a six year-old girl. She sobbed with her 
> attempts to escape, but the hand pinning her down was hard as steel. 
> As was the growing bulge underneath his trousers; it ran along the 
> ridge of her tiny ass.

As fast as it started, the false memory ended and she was once again
kneeling in the mud, legs spread obscenely and breasts heaving under a
glaze of cum.

The stranger chuckled. (You can't stop me, Merrie Golddother. I know
everything about you. I know what turns you on and exactly what I need
to make you do whatever I want.) The image of her grandfather appeared
and faded instantly.

She was on the edge of breaking into tears. (Who are you?) She could
feel her body shuddering as she tried to force the false memories out of
her head.

(Haviston, no last name.) He didn't offer any more.

(Why are you doing this?)

(Because, two weeks ago, I was happily manipulating any number of
students into a consensual connection to their minds, all for a higher
score. It is amazing how desperate a teenager can be when they think an
insignificant grade is the sum of their existence. Some of them had the
potential of eventually becoming someone important. But, just as this
adorable Melkuth girl was offering her psyche to retake a test, I was
dragged across this dull-minded country to rescue some sodden bitch in
the middle of a farm yard.) Distaste slammed into her and she cringed
under the heat of it.

(I'm sorry.)

(Of course you are. You managed to ruin lives across the entire country
and stir up more than a few hornet nests by simply doing nothing but
crawling on your hands and knees and being rumored to be a True Submissive.)

She shivered as the tears ran down her cheeks.

(I didn't ask for you.)

(No, Merrie Golddother, you didn't. You were just another mundane
wandering around without real focus or drive. If you had the common
sense not to get kidnapped by a thriban with an overblown sense of
honor, you wouldn't have ruined my life and countless others. But,) he
reluctantly thought, (that honor is the reason I am kneeling in the
middle of cum and mud.)

> A startling clear image welled up from his thoughts. He was on his 
> back with a broken arm and a shattered knee. Blood poured out of his
>  side where wolf fangs ripped out some of his ribs and a section of 
> his internal organs.

> Standing above Haviston was Bass. The thriban was encased in his 
> brilliant white armor. The once familiar scorch mark was gone. In its
> place was Lemitri's symbol, the sword wrapped in flames over a 
> shield. Haviston was staring up the length of Bass' great sword. The 
> tip was pressed against his throat and a trickle of blood ran down 
> his throat.

> Rendi was standing next to Bass, not ready to defend but begging Bass
> to save Haviston's life. There was passion in her eyes as she 
> argued.

> Haviston's life was on the edge of death. And the only thing that 
> would save him was the word of his Aunt Rendi-

The memory stopped sharply. (You weren't suppose to see that,) came the
annoyed thought. (I underestimated you. It won't happen again.) A sense
of finality came along with the projection and a crystalline shield
slammed down between them.

Merrie pushed out her own thoughts. (What happened? What did you do?)

(Nothing important.) A blasÃ(C) emotion. (I dominated an entire village and
turned them into my personal slaves. I even twisted that wolf-walker,)
an memory of Tabitha--wearing an apron and cooking with an empty smile
on her face--washed past Merrie's mind. There was something scary about
her eyes, as if the real Tabitha was still inside her, raging helplessly.

He sent an agreement. (She was. I didn't think it was worth dominating
her mind, which was the mistake I made. In the middle of the fight, I
lost focus and she took out my hamstring.) A remembered pain of his side
being torn out came along with his thoughts.

Merrie remembered when Sable dominated her. She shivered at the memory,
remembering how she completely lost control of her body but her mind was
free but helpless.

(Yes, that. Tabitha of the Marlis Holt will never forgive me for what I
did. But, the sight of seeing a foul-mouthed shape-changer cooking me
breakfast and cleaning was probably one of the best pleasures I ever
had. But,) his thoughts concentrated back on her, (I might as well help
you, since I can't go back.)

She whimpered at his annoyance and anger.

(Borias Kivas,) there was some relationship between Haviston and Borias
but he kept it to himself, (said that you can project fear. Let's see if
we can get you frightened.)

And as quickly as that, Merrie felt fear gathering inside her. It was
unformed at first, a dread of something terrible going wrong, but then
her mind began to fill in the gaps. She was afraid he was going to rape
her. The small, sane part of her knew that she couldn't be rape since
she would submit willingly, but her irrational mind refused to admit
that he wasn't going to rape her.

The fear rose up and she couldn't breathe. Her chest heaved with the
effort to breath as it boiled inside her, spreading out to her veins.
She wanted to run away, but her body refused to move. Desperate, she
wrapped her mind around the fear and squeezed down on it. She could feel
it in her mental fingers as it tried to escape, but as she crammed it
down into a flame, it stopped dominating her thoughts.

(Adequate technique, but sloppy control. Don't imagine your hands,
you'll limit yourself. Just use your will.) He reached out with his will
and wrapped around her emotions. With an incredible focus, he compressed
her fear down even more, forcing it into a single, infinitely small
point of pure terror. (And now, you have something that can kill. How do
you project it? Project it.)

Merrie cringed under the impersonal, business-like command. She reached
out with her mind, to push it out, but then stopped. Ashamed, she pulled
back her imagined fingers. (Where?)

(Anywhere.) He was unconcerned. (Throw it at me.)

(But, you said it can kill.)

Amusement filled her. (As if you could hurt me. Go on, throw it at me.
Let me see what you can do.)

She hesitated, afraid to hurt him.

Haviston reached out with a sharp command. (Now!)

She couldn't resist, she had to obey. Her body grew hot with need as she
threw out with her mind, shoving it toward him with all her might. She
cringed at the thought of it hurting him as the intense fear slammed
against his crystalline shields. There was a shuddering from him and she
felt the shield crack and shatter. With a rush, it plunged past his
mental defense.

But instead of slamming into him, it hit another shield of a slightly
different feel. It broke too, but there was another shield, then
another. Layer after layer broke in a cloud of mental shards, but then
she hit a wall of diamond and her fear splattered against it with only a
char against the pristine surface.

(Better than most of my former students. In a different life, you are
well on your way to becoming a competent psion.)

(Psion?)

(A psion is the general term for a psychic like you. Telepathy,
telekinesis, and a whole other slew of mental abilities. Your power
doesn't come from the world around you or a divine force, but simply
from your mind, your sense of self. That is why you'll still be Merrie
when the other bitches,) he thought of Sable and Dixie, (lost their
names when they bonded. Speaking of which, I need to make sure you can't
bond today. Let's get started-)

(Today?)

(There is a fair or something. I don't care. I just want to-)

(Today!?)

Exasperation rose up. She felt his will clamp down on her, silencing
even her thoughts. (Yes, I said that. Stop asking questions until I finish.)

When he finished, he released her thoughts.

Merrie was still with surprise. (But, the fair is weeks away. Isn't it?)

(No, it is today. It is just after three in the morning. I would have
enjoyed a nice, long morning of manipulating that bar wench into leaving
her husband, but you were leaking so badly I could feel your orgasms
from thirty kilometers away. But, first, we need to prevent you from
bonding. Start the bond with me.)

She shook her head. (I can't!)

(Bond with me.)

(No! I can't.)

She withdrew into her shields, but he followed her.

> With a lurch, she was once again a little girl on her grandfather's 
> lap. He had one finger between her legs, stroking along her pussy and
> his other was wrapped around her neck. Her tiny form was heaving as
> she tried to escape, but he held her tight against his chest. The 
> newspaper, the once familiar bond between them was forgotten on the 
> ground.

> "No!" Her screams were higher-pitch, half a woman and half a girl. 
> She tried to move her hips away from the probing fingers but she 
> couldn't. She was soaked.

> His finger was deep in her pussy, pumping in and out like a little 
> cock. They were long and narrow, but to her inexperienced body, he 
> was huge. Her adult mind remembered another feeling of being
> violated with something so large, the night that Bass first raped her
> in the middle of the field.

She fought with the memories of two bodies. Her adult mind was already a
slave to her pleasures. The familiar feel of submission burned in her
veins and her pussy responded with a boiling heat. But, it was her
immature body that was feeling it. Juices welled up from her hairless
lips and ran down her tiny, smooth thighs onto her grandfather's lap.

> Sobbing, she pawed at his hand at her throat. Her tiny fingers 
> grabbed at the steel-like fingers. Using both hands, she could only 
> pry one finger away. As soon as she released it, it smacked back 
> against her throat.

> Her grandfather added a second finger. Her inner walls, unused to any
> intruder, protested as he drove it deep inside her. She could feel
> her insides stretching around his digits, sending tiny waves of 
> pleasure coursing through her tiny frame. Juices dribbled down his 
> knuckles as he pumped in and out. A flame of pleasure grew inside
> her as she was dominated by the memory of her own grandfather.

> Merrie tried to squirm away, but he pinned her to his own chest. The
> hand around her neck was like a collar. The pressure and the 
> confinement added to heat inside her and she felt a orgasm rising
> up. She knew that this never happened, but she couldn't help but
> respond as a sex slave to something Haviston was forcing on her.

> With a moan, she shoved down on his fingers, wanting to get them 
> deeper. Tears of frustration and helplessness ran down her cheeks and
> splashed down on her sun dress. She wanted to run and wanted to have
> more. She didn't know if she was a girl or a woman. It terrified her
> that she couldn't escape.

> Growing more desperate, Merrie reached down and grabbed his wrist. 
> She could feel his muscles working as he pumped his fingers inside 
> her. Her knuckles bumped against her own hairless and tiny sex as
> she strained with all her might to pull him out.

> As punishment and to prove his power over her, her faux grandfather 
> added a third finger to her pussy. It hurt as he forced it deep, but 
> the pain and helplessness mixed together and set off a maelstrom of 
> orgasms ripping through her body.

> In the moment of pleasure, her skin began to tingle. The sensation of
> reaching out grew quickly. The ghostly connection reached out, but
> instead of connecting to the grandfather raping her from behind, it
> stretched out across the fields. Power rippled across her senses and
> she felt Haviston's will grabbed the end and yanking it further along
> the bright green fields.

> The power kept stretching out of her, crossing the fields until she 
> couldn't see the end anymore. But, she felt the memories tickling at 
> the end of the connection. Haviston's mind was just beyond the end
> of her connection but as she reflexively reached out for him, he 
> withdrew further.

> A long wail ripped from her throat. She opened her eyes--she couldn't
> tell if she was young or old--but she couldn't see. Her body spasmed
> with an orgasm, her tiny thighs clamping on her grandfather's lap as
> she came again and again.

And then it stopped. She was stretched out further than she thought
possible. She was drained, empty. A hollow shell of a bitch waiting for
her connection to finally bind to someone. But, there was no one there,
nothing to bind to.

(This,) came an admiring thought as her fake grandfather jammed his
three fingers into her pussy, tearing her open as he ground his knuckles
against her soaked sex, (is a beautiful thing. A True Submissive, an
Ama, in my hands.)

She was on the edge of an orgasm, held not by the fingers raping her,
but her soul stretched to its limit. She held her breath, waiting for
that last little hook and the rush of memories and thoughts that would come.

(If I was forty years younger, I'd let you bind. What I could do to you-)

Her false grandfather shoved his hand against her pussy, forcing his
fist into her tight, immature sex. Pain exploded from her sex as he
stretched her open. She could feel blood dripping down the side, but
everything was held in that horrible crest of pleasure and pain.

(-but, I cannot. You aren't worth the effort and Bass would kill me. So,
instead, I'm going to teach you how to use this.)

(H-How?) she sobbed, writhing on the fist that inched into her pussy,
ripping her and dominating her.

(Lessons, but for later.)

Haviston's will wrapped around her body. It pressed down on her and the
image of her grandfather faded with his concentration.

She let out a gasp of relief, Haviston had ruined her memories of her
grandfather but she could still feel the pain of his fist inside her
body. It hurt, not only now, but the part of her that was still an adult
began to doubt herself. Maybe her grandfather did rape her. Maybe he was
the reason she took to being a sex slave so easily.

Haviston was amused as he wrapped her connection together. It felt like
he was folding it in half, but it was bending in ways that defied simple
directions of half, up, or down. He was stuffing her connection, her
translucent leash, into a maze of some sort.

(You will naturally break out of this, but I'm placing lessons along the
way. As you work yourself free--it should take a day or four depending
on how bright you are--it will teach you the basics of shielding,
grounding, and centering. I'm adding some other lessons, once that might
help you in the future.)

He kept forcing her into the maze, placing her very being and the
connection to her soul in a complicated pattern that held her in place.
Her thoughts grew claustrophobic as the image of her grandfather faded
completely away and was replaced with just an overwhelming pressure of
Haviston's will.

Haviston finished with a wave of amusement.

The pressure around her faded and she felt muted and empty.

(You'll bond,) he thought with pride, (some day, but not any time soon.)

> She was forced back into the world of being a child once again and 
> once again on her grandfather's lap. Something had changed and she 
> felt his hard cock pressing against her naked ass. It was hot and 
> slick with precum.

> "P-Please don't do this."

> Haviston's voice came from her grandfather's lips as he held her 
> tight. "When you are ready to learn, come back here. You'll get your 
> lessons right here, on your grandfather's lap."

> Merrie sobbed, not ever wanting to come back to the horrid memory.

> There was a cruel amusement as he ground his fist into her pussy and
> picked her up. The pressure build on her neck and sex as the hot, 
> slick end of his cock slid down her tiny ass, along the crack, then 
> rested right against the miniature, wrinkled opening of her ass.

> He forced her up on her knees. Her short legs barely able to prevent
> the cock from impaling her. The head pressed against her asshole,
> the slick head lodged at the entrance of her second virginity.

> Merrie sobbed at the knowledge he was going to rape her again. "W-Why
> are you doing this, La... grandpa?"

> He stretched his fingers in her pussy, stretching it open for a 
> moment before yanked it out. The pain was intense but so was the 
> hunger to be filled once again. She was both a woman and a child. She
> hungered to be filled as much as she begged not to be. She was 
> losing against Haviston's thoughts even as she was poised for his 
> cock to rip into her.

> "Because," whispered her grandfather, "I'm psychic. I've been in a 
> thousand minds and see all the fantasies and lusts there is to be. 
> I've experienced all the anger, love, and hatred in the world. But, 
> I'm also touched by Abbinkey just like your lover Borias is, so the 
> most important part of my life has been sealed away. The only thing
> I have left, the only amusement left in my existence, is this."

> He squeezed his hand over her throat and she couldn't breathe. She 
> squirmed helplessly, unable to stop him from doing anything. She felt
> herself beginning to bond again, but it didn't reach out. She was
> trapped, helplessly, and it left an empty hollow in her soul.

> Her grandfather clamped down harder, crushing her. "Because of Rendi 
> and my thirty-one year debt to her, I had to burn my old life to get 
> here. I'm stuck for at least a year and a day. All because of you, 
> the only thing vaguely interesting in my life. And in a few short 
> hours, you're going to be sold like some common bitch to someone who
> will never know what you're capable of."

> Tears ran down Merrie's cheek. Her lungs ached with the need to 
> breath and she sobbed for him to finally impale her, to tear her open
> just as Bass did so many weeks before. She was a woman and a child,
> helpless in both forms and both minds

> "I blame you, Merrie Golddother, for all of this. And I will fulfill
> my obligations to my aunt and help my cousin, but that doesn't mean
> you have to enjoy it.

> With the power of his mind, Haviston slammed her down on her 
> grandfather's cock. The huge, swollen member tore into her ass, 
> ripping it open just as Bass tore her open. It plunged deep into her 
> body as it punched into her orgasms.

> Her world exploded into pain. Deep beneath her agony, she felt the 
> intoxicating pleasure of helplessness and domination burst inside
> her body. Her own sense of body blurred, mixing both her adult and
> child forms, as she screamed out in an orgasm.

And for the first time in many days, Merrie opened her eyes.

**

Comments on my stories are the drugs that fuel my writing. I'm sure the
same is for all writers, so if you like a story, don't hesitate to send
even a quick note because that will fill me with warm, squirmy feelings
for days.

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http://tsade.com/contact

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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