Personalised Story: Her Simp: Part 2

Anna slammed the apartment door behind her, purse swinging from her shoulder as she hurried down the hall to Matt's place just a few doors over. Her pussy throbbed with anticipation, already slick from the teasing game she'd played with Curtis.

That poor simp was back there, scrubbing her panties like a good little doll, his tiny dick locked away in steel, no clue how she'd just left him high and dry. The key dangled between her bouncing tits on its chain, a shiny reminder of her power over him. But now? Now it was time for the real fun.

She knocked once, and Matt yanked the door open, his muscular frame filling the doorway—broad shoulders, ripped abs, that cocky grin that always made her knees weak. 'Get in here, slut,' he growled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her inside. No hello, no bullshit. He kicked the door shut and shoved her toward the bedroom, his big hands already hiking up her sundress, fingers digging into her juicy ass.

Anna stumbled forward, heart racing, and hit the bed face down, ass up like the eager bitch she was for him. The mattress dipped as he climbed on, yanking her dress over her head in one rough tug, leaving her in just her lacy panties—ones Curtis was probably sniffing right now.

Matt ripped those off too, the fabric tearing with a satisfying snap, exposing her dripping pussy. 'Look at you, so fucking wet already,' he said, voice low and commanding. His palm cracked against her ass cheek, the sting blooming hot and red, making her yelp and arch back.

'Yeah, that's my bitch,' he snarled, lining up his massive cock—ten thick inches of veined, throbbing meat—and slamming it balls-deep into her tight pussy in one brutal thrust. Anna gasped, her walls stretching around him, clenching greedily as he filled her completely.

No mercy, no easing in; he just pounded her, hips snapping forward with raw power, his muscular thighs slapping against her toned ass. Each thrust drove her face into the pillow, her blonde hair splaying out like a halo for her devilish desires.

She bit down on the soft fabric, teeth sinking in to muffle the moans building in her throat. Matt's hand came down again—slap—on her other cheek, then another, marking her skin with handprints as he fucked her harder. 'Take it, you dirty whore. This pussy's mine.' His free hand gripped her hip, fingers bruising, pulling her back onto his cock while he dominated her completely, his weight pinning her down, muscles flexing against her back.

The necklace swung wildly with every bounce of her massive, perky tits, the key to Curtis's cage glinting in the dim light. Anna bit her lip around the pillow, a wicked thrill shooting through her as she thought of her simp alone, hands soapy from her lingerie, his balls blue and aching with no release. He couldn't even wank off tonight—hell, maybe not for days—while Matt wrecked her hole. The contrast made her clench tighter, her first orgasm crashing over her like a wave.

She screamed into the pillow, body shuddering, pussy gushing around his pistoning cock as juices soaked the sheets. But Matt didn't stop; he laughed darkly, slapping her ass once more—harder—and ramped up the pace, his massive dick dragging against her g-spot with every plunge.

'Cum again for me, bitch. I know you can.' Anna's nails dug into the bedding, her long legs trembling, toes curling as the pressure built impossibly fast. He owned her, body and soul, his dominance flooding her senses—the scent of his sweat, the slap of skin on skin, the way his balls smacked her clit.

Another orgasm ripped through her, fiercer than the first. She released the pillow just enough to scream out, voice raw and broken—'Fuck, Matt! Yes!'—before biting down again, waves of pleasure pulsing from her core.

Her tits heaved, the key necklace bouncing erratically, a taunting symbol of the control she wielded over Curtis even as she surrendered to Matt. He growled, thrusting deeper, his muscular arms caging her in, fucking her through the aftershocks until she was a quivering mess.

One more slap echoed in the room, her ass on fire, and Anna felt the third climax building, her pussy milking him desperately. She bit her lip hard, tasting the metallic tang of blood, knowing her little doll was hanging her thongs to dry right now, oblivious to how thoroughly she was getting railed.

Matt's cock swelled inside her, promising his own release soon, but he'd make her cum again first—always did. She was his bitch, utterly dominated, and she loved every second.

Matt's thrusts slowed just enough to tease her, his massive cock still buried deep in her spasming pussy, drawing out the last tremors of her third orgasm. Anna lay there face down, panting into the pillow, her body slick with sweat, ass cheeks glowing red from his slaps.

The key necklace rested heavy between her heaving tits, a cool metal tease against her flushed skin. She felt him pull out slowly, inch by inch, her walls clenching in protest at the emptiness he left behind. A string of her juices connected them for a moment before snapping, dripping down her thighs.

He shifted behind her, the bed creaking under his muscular weight. 'Not done yet, bitch,' Matt growled, his voice rough with lust. She heard the cap pop on the lube bottle from the nightstand, then the wet squelch as he coated his thick ten-inch shaft, making it glisten.

His hand came down hard on her ass—slap—right where the previous marks burned, sending a fresh jolt through her. 'Naughty girl, getting that pussy wrecked and still begging for more.' Another slap, harder, her juicy cheeks jiggling from the impact.

Anna whimpered, pushing back instinctively, her tight asshole twitching in anticipation. Matt's fingers spread the lube over her puckered hole, one digit circling before pushing in, stretching her roughly. 'Who owns this ass?' he demanded, his palm cracking against her skin again, the sting making her gasp.

'You,' she moaned, voice muffled against the pillow, her long legs spreading wider. 'It's yours, Matt. Fuck it.'

He didn't wait. Lining up his lubed cock, he pressed the fat head against her ass, gripping her hips with bruising force. With a grunt, he thrust forward, burying half his length in one go. Anna cried out, biting the pillow edge as her ring stretched around his girth, the burn mixing with pleasure in that perfect, overwhelming way. He slapped her ass once more—slap—for good measure, then sank deeper, balls-deep now, his muscular thighs pressing against hers.

'That's right, take every inch,' he snarled, starting to pound her ass with the same relentless rhythm. His hips snapped forward, cock plunging in and out, the lube making obscene slick sounds fill the room.

Anna's tits bounced wildly beneath her, the necklace swinging like a pendulum, the key clinking softly. She released the pillow to scream, her body rocking with each brutal thrust, his dominance pinning her down completely. His free hand reached around, fingers finding her clit, rubbing hard circles that had her pussy clenching on nothing.

The pressure built fast, her ass full and owned, every slap of his balls against her pussy lips pushing her higher. Matt's grunts grew louder, his muscles flexing as he hammered into her, sweat dripping from his chest onto her back.

'Gonna fill this tight hole,' he warned, voice strained. Anna's nails clawed the sheets, her orgasm crashing just as his cock swelled inside her. She screamed his name, body convulsing, waves of ecstasy ripping through her core as her ass milked him.

Matt roared, slamming deep one last time, his load erupting hot and thick, flooding her ass with pulse after pulse of cum. He held her there, grinding against her as they both shuddered, his weight a total claim on her body. Anna bit her lip, tasting salt from her own sweat, the fullness of his seed leaking out around his softening cock as he finally pulled free.

The clock on Curtis's laptop screen glowed 1:07 AM, casting a harsh blue light over his cramped desk in the dim apartment. Papers and notes—Anna's college assignment—scattered around him like a chaotic shrine to his devotion. His slim fingers flew over the keyboard, editing her essay on literature analysis, fixing grammar slips and tightening arguments she hadn't bothered with.

Every keystroke was for her, a pathetic offering from the simp who couldn't say no. But focus shattered as the steel chastity cage clamped tighter around his aching four-inch cock, the unyielding bars digging into his swollen shaft with each futile throb.

His balls hung heavy and blue, throbbing with denied need, a constant pulse that made him shift in the creaky chair. Sweat beaded on his forehead, not from the late-night grind, but from the frustration boiling under his skin. He paused, hand dropping to adjust the cage through his thin boxers, but touching it only worsened the pain—no relief, just the cold metal mocking his erection.

What was she doing right now? Out with friends? Curled up alone? Or... with him? The thought of Matt's muscular arms around her stabbed jealousy through his gut, twisting with arousal he couldn't sate.

His mind wandered, drifting back to earlier that evening in her apartment. That sundress hugging her curves, the fabric so short it rode up when she bent over, flashing the juicy swell of her ass cheeks. God, that ass—round, perky, begging to be grabbed.

He'd stolen glances while hammering screws into the furniture frame, his cock twitching at the way it jiggled with her every step. And her tits... massive and perky, straining against the thin material, nipples faintly outlined when she leaned close to 'help.' The memory made his caged dick strain harder, pre-cum leaking uselessly against the bars, soaking his underwear.

Worse were the scents that haunted him. Washing her lingerie at the sink, hands submerged in soapy water, lifting those lacy panties—still warm from her body, crusty with dried juices. He'd buried his face in them after, inhaling deep: the musky tang of her pussy, salty and intoxicating, mixed with her floral perfume.

It had driven him wild, cock rock-hard as he rinsed the fabric, imagining her wearing them, getting wet for someone else. Now, alone at 1 AM, that smell lingered in his nostrils like a ghost, fueling fantasies of burying his tongue between her thighs, lapping at her folds while she moaned his name. But she never would.

She had Matt, that dominant stud with the huge cock, probably pounding her senseless while Curtis edited her homework like a good little beta.

He groaned softly, hips bucking involuntarily against the chair's edge, seeking friction that the cage denied. The assignment blurred on the screen—something about symbolism in novels, ironic now as his own life symbolized denial and worship.

Blue balls ached deeper, a dull fire spreading up his abdomen. What if she came home soon? Would she check on him, tease him with a smile, dangle that key? His breath hitched, hand trembling as he typed another sentence, lost in the haze of her body, her scent, her control.

Sunlight pierced through the thin curtains of Curtis's bedroom, jolting him awake at 8:15 AM. His body ached from the awkward slump in the desk chair the night before, neck stiff and eyes gritty from lack of sleep. T

he assignment—her assignment—was finished, emailed off in the wee hours, but the blue balls still throbbed relentlessly, his four-inch cock trapped in the unyielding chastity cage, semi-hard from dreams of Anna's curves. He groaned, reaching for his phone on the nightstand, the device buzzing with a new message that made his heart skip.

It was from her: 'Meet me at mine after college 😘' The blowing kiss emoji hit like a spark, igniting his groin. Instantly, his dick surged against the metal bars, swelling to full erection in the confined space. The cage bit in, a sharp denial that sent jolts of frustrated pleasure up his spine.

Pre-cum oozed from the tip, slicking the inside of the device as he stared at the screen, rereading the words. What did she want? To unlock him? Tease him more? His mind raced with possibilities, balls tightening painfully as he imagined her fingers on the key.

The day dragged like molasses through college lectures. Curtis shifted in his seat during psych class, the cage rubbing against his thighs with every move, a constant reminder of her control. Professors droned on about motivation and desire, words that twisted into taunts—his motivation solely Anna, his desire locked away.

Lunch was a blur; he poked at a sandwich, appetite gone, cock twitching at stray thoughts of her ass in that sundress. By afternoon bio lab, sweat dampened his shirt, the ache in his groin a fire that no position eased. The clock crawled to 4 PM, the longest day ever, every minute amplifying his need until he bolted from campus, heart pounding as he hurried to her apartment.

He knocked on her door at 4:45, knuckles rapping softly, breath shallow. The wait felt eternal, his erection straining futilely in the cage, pants tented slightly despite the concealment. The door swung open, and there she was—Anna, radiant in a tight short tennis dress that clung to her body like a second skin.

The white fabric stretched taut over her massive tits, the neckline plunging so low they nearly spilled out with each breath, creamy swells heaving invitingly. The necklace dangled right between them, the tiny key glinting like a promise—or a tease—in the valley of her cleavage. Her long legs stretched endlessly below the hem, toned and smooth, while the dress rode up scandalously, half her juicy ass cheeks peeking out, round and firm, begging for a squeeze.

'Hey, you,' she purred, stepping forward without hesitation. Her arms wrapped around him in a hug, pulling his slim frame against her softness. Her tits mashed into his chest, warm and pillowy, nipples hardening faintly through the thin material as they pressed against him.

Curtis inhaled sharply, her perfume—floral and intoxicating—flooding his senses, mixed with the faint musk that haunted his memories from her panties. His caged cock throbbed desperately, leaking more pre-cum as her body molded to his, her hips brushing his bulge.

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, a sly smile curling her lips, then took his hand in hers—fingers interlacing warmly, leading him inside. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing the intimate space. 'Let's talk about how things are going with the cage,' she said, her voice low and teasing, thumb stroking the back of his hand as she guided him toward the sofa. Her ass swayed with each step, the dress hiking higher, flashing more of those perfect cheeks. Curtis followed like a moth to flame, pulse racing, the weight of the cage a sweet agony as her touch promised whatever came next.