He flies into a rage

"Get your hands off me, you fucking whore!" Dave suddenly flew into fury as he leaped off his chair and shoved you, his body bellying his strength. You let a yelp as momentum carried you backward towards his bed, tripping over it and falling sprawled on top of it, your halter top exposing your midsection and your mini skirt your G-string. Something snapped, some kind of animalistic rage took over as he lunged towards you, hand enveloping your neck.

"I fucking told you, bitch, again and again! Leave me alone!" Spittle escaped his lips as he shook you by the neck. Your nails dig into the skin of his arms as you try to pry him off, kicking, yet his overall weight and strength proved too much for you. You were reduced to begging.

"Pl-... please let go," you whimper, trying to claw your way out of his grasp. He slackened, but didn't let go, staring you, examining you. The stench of weeks old sheets penetrating the air as you both engaged in a staring contest with one another, each probing for some kind of weakness. Finally, he spoke up.

"You know, now that I look at you, I can only wonder what you were expecting," He looked you over once more. "You dress like a whore, you act like a whore, you even spoke like a whore. Some part of me thinks you want this."

"No, I—" The loud sound reverberated through the room. He backhanded you across the cheek. Hard. It stung.

"Did I ask you to speak?" He growled, contemplating. He finally decided on something as he began to tug on his waistband.

No... No. No. NO! You realized what he was planning to do. This was not what you had expected. This was not what you wanted. You began to squirm once more, attempting to kick the heavy man off you. But he pinned you down firmly and simply tightened his grip around your neck. This was the first time you actually felt... frightened. Here you were: a small, fragile girl flailing as you struggled against the grasp of this brutish man. Capable of doing... nothing. If he felt like it, he could kill you without blinking an eye. You had no control.

He finally managed to shimmy down his sweatpants and underwear, exposing his dick for all the world to see. You didn't see much from your vantage point, but you could tell it was big. Much bigger than the one you had. And it seemed thicker too. The air around it turned into a pungent, sour smell, radiating through the air like mist.

You were shivering. You knew what was going to happen. And you could do nothing to stop it.

"All right, bitch," Dave growled, grabbing his dick with his free hand and slapping it across your cunt. "Is this what you wanted? Huh?!"

"Once again, you're mistaken—!!" Another slap rings out across your cheek. And another. And another.

You shut up, just staring at him defiantly as he stares back, probing for an answer. Finally he gave up. "If you want it like that, fine." He lined up his bulbous mushroom head against your crotch, giving it a few smacks. You groaned at the sensation. You hadn't yet masturbated nor examined this body in full detail, but the sensations you felt as the smacks hit your clit rang out up your spine and through your body. Finally, he was ready.

"Here you go, whore, the fucking of your lifetime," he stopped, finally ready to penetrate. You tensed up in anticipation as he was planning to go in, raw, no preparation or foreplay whatsoever. You winced. He didn't even have the courtesy or decency to get you ready, simply using you as a fuckdoll for your own personal pleasure. Finally, he thrust—!!

......Huh? As you came to, you realized that Dave was already hammering on top of you, moving in and out at quick, consistent pace. Did—did you just come?! The horror of the realization settled in as your mind recovered from intense orgasm. Even you, no matter how many attempts or different methods, never managed to make Carrie ejaculate quickly. And here you were, in her body, squirting with all your might as Dave's meaty flesh tore through your cunt.

You felt pain. A lot of pain. But that pain was followed by something else: ecstasy. Bliss. Every time he thrust forward, you felt him hit your innermost spot inside your pussy, stretching you out, prodding you. Every thrust to your womb was a dose of pain, every thrust was a dose of pleasure.

He was like a machine, just mechanically exercising his duty as his ballsack repeatedly slapped against your ass. What's worse was that even the slightest moan or groan was accompanied with another hit to your face. It was now stinging constantly.

This went on and on. You didn't know how much time had gone by as his seemingly inexhaustible stamina kept him going. Your pussy was bruised and battered at this point. But you had also came quite a number of times. About 3... no, 4 times? You've lost count at this point as you lay there limp, just praying for this never-ending experience to end. Finally, your wishes were answered.

"I'm cumming!" Dave groaned, thrusting one last time deep into your snatch and unloading his batter towards your womb. You orgasmed along with him. He remained in this position for about a half-minute, grunting like a wild animal with each spurt, as if this was his last chance to continue his progeny and he was relishing every moment of it. You felt bloated. Finally, he withdrew as you continue to lay there, exhausted.

*snap*

Your attention suddenly snapped back as you heard the snap of a camera ring out. You noticed Dave holding his phone, pointing it towards you and particularly your pussy as it gushed his sperm. Your arms flew around your breasts and crotch, trying to shield the most important bits from view, throwing a begging glance at him. He lowered his phone, stopping.

"All right, you've had your fun. Now get the fuck out of my room," he swung, cracking his palm over one of your ass cheeks. "Oh, and I'll be keeping these for now." He dangled the purple G-string in front of you. You didn't argue. You just simply trotted your way out of his room, dejected, not knowing what to do. The door slammed behind you.

You stood there in the hallway, still processing the situation. You brought your arm up to your neck and headed to a nearby mirror. A raw, red handprint was visible around your throat, the mark a vestige of his brutishness. Your arm made its way down, spotting a bruise forming on one of your breasts. Dave certainly enjoyed pinching your breasts and tugging your nipples. It made its way further down, stopping at your pussy, still oozing semen that was trickling down your leg. No signs other than the stickiness of sex, although your cunt certainly felt... loosened? As if though it had to relax itself to accommodate an object far bigger than it had expected.

You began to shiver as the shock wore off. You were ****. You were ****. Your palm sprung up as you began to dry heave. You felt as if you had betrayed Carrie and all she stood for... no, you did betray Carrie. She had entrusted you with this body, which she tended with care, and what was your first act? To get fucked, and not even by your faithful companion, but by some shut-in, stinky, dirty loser. And the worst part was that you did enjoy parts of it. Your pussy had already begun aching and begging for more action.

Should you call the cops...? No, Carrie'll find out. The last thing you wanted was for her to discover what you did. Not wanting to ruin the relationship you had with her. Better to just stay away from Dave from now on and sweep things under the rug. Not even caring about your bet with Carrie anymore.

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"Dear, you must be as excited for this as I am," Carrie cooed, although hearing it come from your gruff voice was rather disconcerting to say the least.

"O-of course, I've always wanted to find out what it's like to have sex as a woman. Tiresias did say they had it better," you responded, lying in bed as you looked at your former face, interlocking fingers with Carrie. Thankfully the room was dark, or she might've noticed the marks left on you. You were just happy that she came back home in a good mood, and didn't particularly question your choice of turtleneck and jeans in the middle of summer, instead preferring to tell you about all the experiences and new things she'd learned about your co-workers.

"Oh, you!" She giggled, lining up her dick towards your vagina. This time more gently than with David. Having even eaten you out before to get you wet. "This'll be mind-blowing for you."

"O-oh, I'm sure," you reply, instead preferring to lock lips with her. "I'm ready, babe."

You lay there, recalling your experience with Dave, his monstrous behavior and demeanor. It was no wonder he had never managed to land himself a girl, his personality expelling itself into everything he did. Not able to treat them with the kindness and respect that they deserve–

"Does that feel good, dear?"

Huh...? You didn't even notice as she'd begun moving, slowly but surely. It was a methodical, rhythmic movement that emulated the care and desire she had for you. It didn't hurt. It wasn't the forceful jackhammering of your ****. It was the way a girl should be treated, with tender love. And yet something felt off. You felt nothing. No pain, yet no pleasure as well. If she hadn't informed you of it, you might've not noticed at all. What's worse, her dick... your dick... it felt—

Too small.

"Uh, yeah. Mhmm, that feels amazing," You panicked, attempting to clench your pussy walls as much as possible, attempting to add friction. You began to moan, trying to fake the nonexistent pleasure that you were currently experiencing. Was this how she felt when you were doing it with her? Was she always pretending to enjoy it for your sake? Doubts crept in.

No matter how long it went, no matter the twists and turns, no matter how many times you've adjusted your position, it was all worthless. You just couldn't bring yourself to orgasm. The entire experience was like an itch you couldn't scratch, that wouldn't go away. Finally, your girlfriend yelled.

"I can't hold much longer," she sped up, **** to savor the last bit of enjoyment before pulling out and ejaculating into a tissue. Carrie always hated cleaning herself up after sex. "Phew, I don't know about you, but I'm pooped. I didn't realize an orgasm takes so much out of a man. Now I feel bad for teasing you all those times. Hopefully you had a good time though."

"Y-yeah, it was absolutely wonderful. Didn't know women could orgasm so much. I came, like, 5 times." That was a lie. The amount of times you've orgasmed was zero. Five being the number with Dave.

You both chatted for a little while before Carrie called it a night, quickly falling asleep. You, on the other hand, couldn't, fingering yourself, mashing your clitoris, pinching your nipples. Nothing. You just couldn't bring yourself to orgasm, to relieve this tension that had built up. How, how? How was that filthy asshole able to get you to cum so much?! You continued late into the night, trying to get yourself to climax. Trying, yet failing—…