Throttle Control

Story by Xial on SoFurry

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This unfinished short story features a rather dominating human female who has had the tables turned upon her by what appears to be a pair of people.

Features bondage, spanking, and non-consenting intercourse.


It was different. Unexpected. She was used to being in control, in charge, and the boss at all times.

Being tied up, face down, blindfolded and at the mercy of this... No! She wouldn't finish the thought. She knows she's still in control, and will show the world that she is still its boss.

A faint hum decorates the air in its own tune, adding to her distress. Her ass is upturned, pointing to the ceiling, knees tied together with rough rope, and arms cuffed behind her. Her bared breasts are pressed against the slowly warming surface underneath her, its hard, unyielding material turning her nipples into cold, aching nubs.

Her bare skin was prickly with goosebumps as the humming grew louder. She squirmed a little, trying to reassure herself, trying to make sure that the outside world cannot harm her. The pert, upturned rump glistened with a thin sheen of sweat in the chill room as she tried to find a less compromising position.

She discovered that this may not be possible, finding that the collar she was wearing seemed to be chained to something. Her knees have very little travel room. She is forced to kneel, she discovers, with her feminine charms on display, despite wanting to be covered.

Reluctantly, she opened her mouth to say something.

It was the only mistake she could have made at the moment. As her lips parted and she inhaled, a ball was placed against the opening. She sputtered, trying to express her irritation at this object, but as her mouth opened wider, the ball was forced between her teeth.

Fur.

She felt fur.

Musk.

Nostrils filled with its seemingly cloying scent. The only other thing she has been able to distinguish since being locked down, bound, and now gagged.

Musk.

Strong. Masculine. Oppressive.

She felt hands on the back of her head, straps cutting into the sides of her face ever so slightly as she could only whimper around this slightly squishy sphere that dares take away her authority.

Her instincts tell her to flee. Her mind tells her that this isn't going to be possible.

She can only analyse what is going on around her now. With her vision blocked, her motion restricted to the barest minimum, and now her ability to speak hindered by her gag, she can only rely on her senses of smell and hearing as active abilities.

Fur!

She felt fur on her body again, this time, her rump. It felt like a hand, with tufts of fur around it, and it was placed squarely on her left rump cheek. She fought the urge to scream and writhe, and for the moment, she won.

The hand left her rump after a long moment. She held in her sigh of relief, growing slightly apprehensive with the treatment she had received up to this point.

The hands returned, but to her knees, pulling them back slightly to raise her rump even higher. A few tugs and twists later, her knees are spread by these same mysteriously furry hands. Now she is well and truly exposed to her captor, much to her chagrin.

A hot blush paints her pale skin, her freckles highlighted by the change in color.

Something grabs a handful of her hair.

A thought, like a whip made of lightning raged across her brain, the heat of her temper starting to match the raging fire red hair that adorned her head. She roared into her gag, cursing everything that she could manage to, heedless of the fact that all that anyone could make out were muffled groans.

Smack!

A thin object found itself brought across the pert butt once, twice, again and again, renewing the screams from the victim being smacked. The upturned ass started to glow red with each blow, the body straining to move away from its tormentor.

It barely registered in her mind that her hands were being held by that same furry hand from earlier. The only thing that registered was the painful blows across her backside, and a niggling sense of ... enjoyment?

That couldn't be right.

She enjoyed being in control, being on top, being in charge.

She had a husband that would let her have her way.

She enjoyed abusing him, making him take every inch of that fake rubber dong under their bed. She even got off on that, and how.

But why is her body reacting to this in the same way it reacts to buggering her husband?

Why is there fluid running down her leg? Her bladder was still full.

Each swat brought a fresh burst of pleasure out from a secret cave in her mind, her body letting go of its self-imposed mantle, of what it knows as 'right', and helped rewire her mind for what is to come.

Control.

It was that lack of control that started to draw her out of that shell that wrapped itself so cruelly around her heart that night.

The buzzing sound became a feeling, a filling one that was centered at the apex of her universe, centered squarely between her thighs and humming away at her clitoris. Her body tensed, straining futilely against her bonds as she squealed, groaned and whimpered into the gag. It was all she could do to not pass out as her senses seemed overloaded, nostrils filled with the scent of musky fur, hands unable to touch, eyes blinded, and skin awash with goosebumps.

Losing Control.

She was at some point several miles beyond that checkpoint, racing down her own personal highway to orgasm as her fluids leaked from her twat. She hardly even cared when that furry hand started swatting her ass again, alternating from cheek to cheek, her body arching weakly away from each blow. Her muscles squeezed down on the vibrator lodged between her spread lips as she quivered, breasts mashed against the floor underneath.

"Little slut."

The words were like an explosion in the room, compared to the meaty sounding smacks of flesh on fuzzy flesh or the hum of the sex toy buried in her quim.

"You are a little slut, aren't you?"

The words were cruel, the timbre of the voice vaguely familiar, like a distant memory drifting out of the range of one's mind to recall.

Even so, she couldn't argue with the words, her body showing on many fronts that this could be true. She could only huff and snort air through her nostrils between waves, her body positively humming with latent sexual energy as the furred hand caressed those abused globes that she was sure were bright red after all of the beating.

After several long moments, punctuated by her orgasms and her bodily fluids leaking down her thighs, the vibrator made its exit, her muscles having squeezed on the toy to push it out. Somewhere in the back of her head, some sane process of thought filed away the missing noise expected from a solid object hitting the floor, but it was as ignored as efficiently as a jock would ignore a bookworm in a high school hallway.

Smooth.

There is a smooth hand on my ass.

That thought manages to cross her mind as the fog of orgasm starts to clear. She doesn't flinch as she feels a pair of hands resting on her rump, one on each cheek. One of the hands -- the smooth one -- squeezes her tush as she exhales a little groan. Those cheeks are sore, her mind notes, realizing that she really did get her ass spanked.

The smooth hand left her ass, only to be replaced by the furred one just a few moments later, the thumbs prying her cheeks apart. She reflexively tightened her asshole at the act, trying rather futilely to keep something about her body decent.

She could hear shuffling behind her and some mumbled words, but just couldn't make them out. What she could make out, though, glowed in her mind.

'Fuck'

She began to panic at that point. The toy was already one violation, but this... creature behind her is planning on fucking her, and she can't even tell what it is. It set off that fear deep inside, that realization that she lacks the controls of this situation, and that something else is going to FUCK HER, instead of letting her be the aggressor, letting her plug her feeldoe in and stuffing it in their ass. She was afraid as the thumbs pried her asscheeks apart, with that smooth hand returning to rest with two cold, wet fingers nestled between those spread globes.

Lubricant.

At least they had the courtesy to lubricate her ass, she thought as she felt the smooth palm resting against her ass, its digits digging in one at a time to abuse her ass, the slimy lube being forced into the tight pucker. She could only grunt and chew on the ball gag as the fingers did their work. Above her head, she could hear someone groan softly, almost passionately, the noise punctuated by a soft 'ooh'.

As she strained to place that noise, she found herself on the receiving end of an eye-opening experience. Something big, round, and hot started probing at her snatch, its tip forcing its way past her quite moist lips as she began to squeal into her gag, quite surprised by its unexpected invasion.

It only took a few seconds, but she found herself on the receiving end of a very unfamiliar cock, plugged half-way in her hot box without as much as a by-your-leave!

Somewhere deep inside, she was starting to enjoy all of this.

"Things will change, you hot little bitch."

Recognition, as well as the strange cock, sink in slowly as she realizes who it is.