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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Birth of an Empire - 2
by Miles Martin (martin369@gmail.com)
***
The further adventures of a pathetic young man, who's
darker side takes over. Once unleashed this predatory
part of him starts taking what it wants, and nothing
can stand in its way. Raping and dominating his bitchy
boss at work was not enough. He stops by her house for
a nice diner, but decides to move in for good. This is
the true first step on his raod to building an empire.
(Mdom/F, nc, rp, oral, ws)
***
Chapter 2
I of course take the rest of the day off of work. (That
is something one does after raping their boss.) I get
in my car and just start driving. Going nowhere in
particular, just driving and basking in my new found
freedom. Everywhere I look I see opportunity. Every
woman I pass is a target, my prey. I soak up the
predatory feeling of power that flows through me. There
is nothing that can stop me any longer. The part of me
that always held back is gone, I could not be happier.
I drive around for hours, lost in my own little world.
Before I know it, 5 o clock rolls around. It is time to
head over to my new slave s house and check up on her,
I think to myself, as I head off in her direction.
There is a funny story, ok well a pathetic story,
behind how I know where my boss lives. When I first
started working at the hell hole, it was run by my
current boss husband. He was the owner and ran the
place; she stayed at home and raised her daughter (I
assume). She did not have anything to do with the
place; it was fully run by her husband. But over time,
the husband and wife started to fight more and more.
They were both selfish and self-centered, so clashes
were destined. The relationship was deteriorating
before everyone s eyes. And of course he took his
fucking anger out on me. I became his whipping boy. No
matter what I was doing, he would start yelling and
screaming at me that I was not doing it right. Cutting
things too big, and then too small.
I was driving too fast, and then driving too slow. The
business started to slow, no one would order from us,
and he would cut corners. He was a terrible manager,
having no idea how to run the place. The customers soon
caught on to this, and we lost all our regulars. The
place got so bad, that my current boss had to start
working. This was her husband s down fall. She got
ideas in her head, ideas that she could run the place
better.
Soon enough she nagged him into letting her take over.
He was quickly fired, and then she divorced him. This
is not yet the funny part though. The funny part is
that they both thought they were huge big shots. When
they had become business owners they had also decided
to be property owners. And so they had bought three
different houses. At first this was no problem.
But after the pizza place started to tank, they had to
sell their houses. But no one would buy. Add this with
their already greedy douchebaggery, and they were
terrible land lords as well. No one would rent from
them either, only dead beats that never paid rent. Of
course this just meant that they were losing even more
money. When they divorced she forced the houses off on
him, and decided to rent a place. This is where I came
in. Guess who had to move her me of fucking course. I
was her one man moving team. And that is how I know
where the bitch lives.
I pull up in front of her house. The lights are on, and
her car is in the driveway, so I know she is home. I
walk up to the door, since I now own her, and
vicariously anything she owns, I try turning the knob.
It is locked. My ever present smile widens. Looks like
she does not want me to just walk in on her then. I
ponder to myself. I walk around the house, checking out
all the windows. Jumping the fence into the backyard, I
found a back door. Bingo. Not even checking if it is
locked, I run full force into it with my shoulder.
Slamming it open. My former boss jumps out of her skin
and screams. I just stand there grinning in the wide
open door way.
I look around and find myself in her kitchen. It looks
like I broke in on her preparing dinner. Her screaming
dies down, once she realizes it was me. I walk up to
her, staring right into her eyes and say I think you
are going to need to get me a key! Or just never
fucking lock me out of my house again!
She shutters and nods. Clearly unnerved by my staring,
she turns back around and checks on the oven. I too
peer into the oven, checking to see what she had made.
Lasagna. Great more Italian food. I can see the box in
the trash can, so it is not even home made. But this
does not faze me.
I walk right up behind her, wrapping my arms around
her. Into her ear I whisper I have such fine memories
of moving you in here. I am so glad you made me do it.
In fact, I think I am going to move in myself.
She struggles in my grasp, pushing me away. I let her
break away. She turns to me with rage blaring in her
eyes, but she keeps quite.
This causes no end of amusement in me. Leaning back
against the counter, I take the moment to finally take
in what she is wearing. She had changed into a sexy
little black dress. Along with a pair of nylon
stockings, ending with high heels. She had topped this
off with makeup, earrings, and doing her hair up in a
bun. She had dressed up in anticipation of a date. She
had dressed up in anticipation for me. This realization
causes a huge surge of power and exhilaration, if not a
bit of puzzlement. It looks like she might not hate me,
or what I was doing to her, at least as much as she
tried to show.
The oven timer reads that we still had a good 20
minutes. We both remain silent, her back to me. I can
tell she feels my eyes are on her, evaluating her. Her
neck and back take on a blush. I let the silence drag
on, and on. It has to be uncomfortable for her, but it
has no affect on me. Finally the silence must have
become too much for her, she grabs a bottle of wine and
Turns to me. With defiance written across her face, she
asks, Shall we have a drink while we wait? She pours
two glasses without waiting for a response.
I can tell she still wants to be in control. If I was
going to do this to her, she wanted it to be on her own
terms. This did not matter to me in the least. I was no
longer going to let her control me, but I could care
less if she was delusional enough to think she still
could. I cock my head a little as I continue to stare
at her. After enough time passes I reply I do not
drink.
She frowns, suddenly uncertain. She reaches down for
her own glass.
But before she can lift it to her lips, I grab her arm.
In an even voice I ask, Did I give you permission to
drink?
Fear once more masks her face. She is now taking in all
my movements, trying to prepare for what I might do to
her.
I cock one of my eyebrows, questioningly.
With a quiver in her voice she asks, May I please have
a drink?
I let go of her arm. Still smiling at her, I nod and
spread my arms out in the sign of be-my-guest.
She gulps down her wine quickly. Then grabs my glass
and downs that as well. She warily watches me, as I
watch her right back. Marshaling her courage, and to
break the awkward silence she says My daughter is
staying with her father tonight, if you were wondering.
I can tell she meant this as a way to keep me away from
her daughter. I respond coldly, Speaking of which I
think I have some things to discuss with your ex.
She shutters at the meaning behind what I said, but
tries to play it down. As selfish and self-centered as
she is, she probably does not really care what I do
with her ex husband, as long as I leave her alone. But
that is not going to happen anytime soon, so she has
nothing to worry about.
She glances at the timer again, still 10 minutes.
I watch as she starts grabbing plates and utensils out
of cabinets and drawers. I follow her out of the
kitchen and into the dining room. She sets up two
places across from each other, at a square table. I do
not make a move to help her. When she is done, I step
behind one of the chairs and pull it out for her,
gesturing for her to sit down. This throws her off
guard, and she looks at me questioningly. I just smile
and gesture again.
Once she is seated, I walk back to the kitchen grab our
glasses, refilling hers with wine and my own with
water. I then look in her refrigerator, find a bag of
lettuce and some vegetables. She probably wonders what
I am doing, as I quickly slice up and vegetables and
thrown them in with the lettuce to make a salad,
topping it all off with a little balsamic vinegar and
olive oil. Returning to the dining room with salad
bowel and glasses in hand, a look of utter puzzlement
and confusion comes across her face. Before she can say
anything the oven timer goes off.
She starts to get up, looking at me, but I shake my
head, grab our plates, and go back into the kitchen. I
carefully take the lasagna out of the oven, and cut it
in half. Those frozen meal things are never really that
big. I once more return to the dining room. I place the
plate in front of her first, and then place my own
down. Grabbing the salad bowel, I serve her and take
some for myself.
The whole time she watches me with a smile spreading
across her face. I can tell she thinks she might be
taking control once more.
I plop down in my own chair and dig in. I focus in on
my food, enjoying the meal. For the first time allowing
myself to really enjoy and savor a meal. I take my
time, slowly chewing each bite. This might not be the
greatest thing I had ever eaten, but it was the first
time since I was a child that I allowed myself to enjoy
a meal. By the time I am halfway done with the meal; I
finally look up from the plate and make eye contact
with her. She is taking a sip of her wine, watching me.
Her plate is hardly touched. I decide it is the right
time.
Blow me! I tell her in a commanding voice.
This causes her to choke on the wine she had just been
drinking. She coughs, as I stare at her. Finally when
her coughing fit is over, she frowns at me.
Already knowing what she will say, I stand up. Folding
the napkin from my lap and placing it next to my plate.
I nonchalantly walk over to her side of the table. Her
eyes follow me, confused. When she is within arm s
reach I stop. Grabbing her by the hair I drag her out
of her chair. I slowly walk back to my own seat,
dragging her kicking and screaming behind me. As I sit
down I toss her under the table. In a hard voice a yell
Now fucking blow me!
It does not take long before I feel her hands working
on my zipper, and then fishing my cock out of my
boxers. As soon as I feel her lips make contact with my
cock, I resume eating. Deciding to be a good guest and
make conversation. I put down my fork, look down into
my lap, and tell her You know for a woman who owns an
Italian restaurant you are not really that great of a
cook.
She glares up at me, mouth still surrounding my cock. I
feel a brief nip of her teeth. She is obviously showing
her indignation at my words.
I go on. Do not worry, your cock sucking skills more
than make up for your poor cooking.
With that I feel her tongue swirl around the head of my
cock quickly. I see a slight smile come across her
lips, although it is hard to tell with them stretched
around my cock.
I continue to smile down on her and say, I was just
thinking that from now on I guess I will be doing the
cooking around here. Not that I am some great chief or
anything. With that I pat her head and get back to
finishing the lasagna.
As I scoop up the last bite of lasagna and put it into
my mouth, I give into the pleasure. I grab the back of
her head, and force my cock down her throat. I erupt my
sperm right into my ex-boss throat.
She struggles and chokes, but seems to swallow all of
the cum. When I feel the last drop leak out, I loosen
my grip on her head. I then relax my bladder. My piss
flows in her mouth, my hold on her head forcing her to
swallow. My limp cock plops out of her mouth. As she
coughs she gags, glaring up at me.
I smile down at her once more, patting her head I say
Good girl. I wipe my mouth, and put the napkin down on
the empty plate. Pushing the plates to the side of the
table I look back down and tell her Well it looks like
it is time for dessert. I stand up, pushing my chair
back.
She tries to compose herself, frowning, and angrily
says, I did not make anything for dessert.
Reaching down to help her up, I say Oh that is not what
I was talking about.
Once she is standing, I grab her sides and lift her up
on to the table. She squeals in surprise. Kicking and
fighting me. I push her back, until she is lying on the
table. Lifting her skirt, I grab hold of her panties.
They were a very sexy red lace pair. I pull them down
and off, to her complaints. Her nice hairy cunt is
smiling up at me. I smile right back. She props herself
on her elbows to look at me, as I kneel in front of
her. Grabbing her hips I drag her until her ass is just
resting on the edge. Throwing her legs over my
shoulders I move in for the kill.
Her hands latch on to my head, digging into my hair, as
I start to lick around her pussy lips. Her legs squeeze
together when I find her love button. Moving down, I
start to nibble on her lips. This drives her crazy, and
she starts to moan. I continue with this for a while,
finally working my tongue between her lips, into her
hole. Her juices are overflowing, lathering my face. By
now her moans and screams have become louder.
Lifting my head up a bit, to look at her face, I shove
three fingers into her cunt to make up the difference
for my tongue. I watch as a look of pure ecstasy is
running ramped across her face. I lean forward and take
her clit between my teeth, biting down just hard enough
not to break the skin. This throws her into the orgasm
that had been building up. A long and loud wail of
pleasure charges out of her mouth. And she collapses
onto the table, passing out.
As she is out I take the time to bring all the dirty
dishes to the sink. I just leave them there, I am not
about to start washing fucking dishes again. Looking
through her refrigerator I find a bottle of cranberry
juice, I pour myself a glass and walk into the living
room. Making myself at home, I sit down on her couch
and turn on the TV.
About 10 minutes later, I hear her waking up; letting
out content groans and moans, as she stretches. She
must have heard the TV, for the next thing I know, she
is sitting down on the other side of the couch, trying
to keep a little distance between us. There is nothing
really on, but we both sit there and watch for the next
couple of hours, saying nothing. I can tell, she is
thinking very deeply about what had happened today.
Soon enough ten o clock rolls around. I stand up and
start walking towards her bed room. I look at her
sharply. Without question she follows me in. I strip
out of my clothes and climb on to the bed, looking at
her expectantly. She of course takes the hint and
strips down as well. She watches me admire her
nakedness. Sliding in next to me, she rolls over to
face away from me. Which gives me a great view of her
ass. I snake my hand over her side, and cup her pussy.
Into her ear I whisper, I want you to climb on top of
me.
I feel a sudden dampening on my hand before a let go,
rolling over onto my back. Without a word, she climbs
on top of my, plunging herself down on my cock. I lay
back and let her do all the work. I watch as her tits
bounce around as she rides me. Her face has a look of
overwhelming lust but also a powerful hatred. I think
she is just as mad at herself for enjoying what I was
doing to her, as she was with me. She rides me for
almost an hour, cumming multiple times.
I hold back, enjoying the ride. I feel her starting to
tire, both our bodies covered in sweat. I decide to let
go, and so the floodgates are dropped. I flood her womb
with my fertile sperm. This sparks a final orgasm for
her, and she collapses down on top of me. I roll her
over to her side. She is already asleep, as I cuddle
into her, resting her head on my chest.
I fall asleep with her in my arms, my cock still limp
in her cunt.
***
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 60