He Said I Wasn't Pretty Enough

This is the story of a woman obsessed with a man, willing to do anything to be with him. She is a desirable woman, but not a perfect ten. He is accomplished, and able to find and sleep with beautiful women, but is maybe not satisfied with normal sex and relationships. I believe they are a good match. It is told from a first person perspective.

This was a lot of fun to write. I hope the tags convey what the story contains. It is about 3,300 words. Let me know what you think.

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He said I wasn't pretty enough. I was obsessed with him, and I'd finally gotten him alone, but he was unimpressed. I was begging him to take me, but he said no, that he could call prettier women to come over, and we both knew that it was true. But I was desperate, I needed to act, and not knowing what to do I just started taking off my top, wanting to be naked and available for him... but he told me to stop, I was wasting his time. And I was so ashamed, fully clothed in front of this electric man, I started crying and babbling all at once, knowing this was my only chance, saying whatever I could, throwing out every desperate thing that I would do, every hole he could use, every way he could use me, finally ending in what a good cocksucker I am, how good I am pleasing a man with my mouth, that I'm dumb and stupid and know men like me best on my knees.

And I guess that caught his attention, or he just took pity on my desperate state, because his face changed. He was thinking, and I had hope. I was almost high with anticipation, some degenerate part of my brain wanting to do anything he asked, anything. He told me to go to the next room, to sit on the couch and wait. He made me wait so long that I thought he'd forgotten about me, but he finally returned. He was holding a Virtual Reality headset in one hand, and I had some idea of what I was in for.

His presence was demanding when he began his instructions. He told me not to speak, not to take off my clothes, not to make eye contact, to only do as I was told. He put on the headset and told me I was only a mouth, that I served no other purpose. I dutifully sat still and stared straight ahead at nothing.

I could hear the noises coming from the headset. He was watching porn, of course, prettier women than me doing what I wished I could do to him. And I looked with need as his cock grew larger and larger in his jeans. When he released it, it was a beautiful, perfectly-sized cock, and I stared and was so wet and horny and desperate, with my mouth watering, needing to please.

More instructions came. "Do not touch with your hands, only your mouth. Lick and suck exactly where I say and when I say it, and at the speed I say. Do not initiate, do not deviate, and you will not be sent away." I said nothing, only listening. He directed my attention to his balls, his shaft, his head, fast then slow then fast again, licking here and there, going shallow then deep in my throat, pleasing himself and edging himself and paying me no attention at all. I was just a mouth, and I was happy to be a mouth. After what felt like hours he told me to go faster, much faster, and I bobbed my head desperately until I felt his cock spasm and shoot cum all over my mouth and my face, and I felt so used and exhausted... and satisfied. I knew I'd done a good job; I was an experienced and obedient cocksucker.

I looked for any reaction, any connection that I could, and I nearly gasped when he paid me one compliment. It was small, but it made my brain tingle. He peaked out from the bottom of his headset and looked at my cum-covered face, taking it in. I avoided eye contact as he had demanded, but I could still detect a faint smile. Then he sent me away.

But the next day he called me back. I had played with myself for hours the night before, so horny and wet and desperate for satisfaction. But I knew only he could truly satisfy me, and I raced over as soon as he called. I had been waiting and hoping.

And he clearly had plans for me, barely saying hello before leading me to yet another room in his house. This was the entertainment room, a small private theater with three huge televisions all connected to expensive surround sound speakers. He directed me to stand in the middle of the room and look towards the televisions while he opened one dirty video after another. Another reminder that there were prettier women than me willing to do whatever they were paid to do.

And it was depraved, an over-whelming compilation of women being used and fucked and humiliated, deep-throating and gangbangs and spanking and slapping and cumshot after cumshot after cumshot. Finally all three screens were filled with just that, one woman after another being cummed on over and over and over again.

I watched as I knew was required, and I felt ashamed and numb and overwhelmed, but I also knew I was here and he wanted me here. He circled me, deliberate and thoughtful as always, before telling me he knew something that I wanted... something that I wanted desperately. To be naked, to be naked for him. I looked down because it was true, I needed this so badly.

He told me to disrobe. I did, thanking him and shaking from nervousness, fully on display for the first time. And he observed me, he judged me, walking around silently, my body shivering in the anticipation and cold, waiting for his appraisal. His eyes were penetrating, scary, even holy. Finally he spoke; he said I wasn't as ugly as he thought, but I was far from beautiful. I needed to eat better, to work out regularly. That I needed to work my glutes, I needed more curves to bring some appeal. I thanked him humbly and earnestly, for his attention and his perception.

Thankfully he wasn't done with me. He told me the rules of yesterday applied again. I could not speak or even make eye contact; I could only obey. I nodded my head silently and looked at my feet. And he started insulting me, telling me how little I meant to him. He told me I was worthless, not even a whore, because a whore was worth paying for and I was not. Not even a slut, because a slut would need men who wanted to fuck them. No, I was still only a mouth. He turned the videos back on and turned the sound up, almost painfully high, overwhelming my brain with sounds of use and abuse, of women degrading themselves with name-calling, humiliating themselves with the dirty names he had denied me. The blowjob was much faster today; he told me to suck as fast and as deep as I could, and I eagerly obeyed, licking and sucking and gagging until the cum covered my face, matted my hair, and dripped down to my tits. I stayed kneeling in the aftermath, allowing him to observe his cum all over my body, to see how much of a mess he had made me. I hoped he approved.

Afterwards he let me stay briefly. My naked body and cum-drenched face sitting on the floor below him, still not touching him or looking at him, but there, present, allowed. Before I left he instructed me; I was no longer allowed clothing in his house, I must undress when I step in the front door. I must workout that night, cardio training and lifting weights for my glutes. And I also could not play with myself the entire evening, I could not even be naked except to shower. I thanked him almost desperately and left before he could change his mind.

And so the next day when I saw him I was sore and desperate and incredibly horny. I walked inside the unlocked front door, stripped naked and folded my clothes on a chair in the foyer. He made me wait, standing there naked and cold; ten, twenty, almost thirty minutes. When he arrived he began interrogating me; had I worked out, doing cardio and working my ass? Yes Sir. Had I remained clothed at all times except to clean myself? Yes Sir. Had I refrained from pleasuring myself with my fingers or vibrator? Yes Sir. I was whimpering, but he was in control.

He told me to bend over, to show the ass that I had worked. I told him that my muscles were sore, and he spanked me because I had spoken out of turn, two firm slaps on each cheek. I apologized and thanked him; he was right of course. I was so eager to please, I stuck my ass out as far as I could and hoped he would strike it again, to find any pleasure that he could. But instead he told me to spread my legs further, and to hold still. I held my hands on the chair and spread. But he wasn't satisfied. He told me I needed to spread further, to open my cunt with my hands. Yes Sir! I eagerly spread and held myself in position, waiting for any reaction from him.

And then he left, of course, he was always making me wait, leaving me bent over, my muscles getting more and more tired as I held the same position. When he finally returned and saw me struggling, he said I could put my hands back on the chair. My muscles were so glad, but I knew he was unhappy I couldn't hold the position longer. I felt shame, but now he was moving quickly, telling me to close my eyes as he wrapped a blindfold around my head. He reminded me to not speak unless asked, to do exactly as he says, to accept my position. I didn't even dare to nod my head. I simply stayed there, hand on the chair and cunt exposed, and he reached for my back. I couldn't see, could only feel as he brought something out. I was unsure initially, but then I knew; yes, it was a marker, he was writing something on my back, I couldn't know what, and I desperately wanted to tell him he could write anything he wanted, that it was good as it pleased him, but I still kept quiet.

And he kept moving, faster now, squeezing and slapping my ass, grabbing my hair to pull, testing my body, and then I heard his pants drop and I stuck my ass out even further, and I felt his cock on my body, on my back, and he slapped it on the top of my ass over and over again, making it hard, driving me crazy. I so wanted to beg for it, to please please just ram it in, I was going mad with need, but I kept my damn mouth shut, his pleasure was the goal, I had to be obedient, I had to be quiet. He made me wait, pleasing his cock on my body, exploring my cunt and my lips with his fingers, even briefly finding my clit, and then finally, with purpose and intent, he opened my cunt and rammed into me, pushing in deep. His perfect cock felt as good in my cunt as it did in my mouth. It was pleasure, sheer pleasure, and I think I came in just a couple of minutes, shaking and barely holding myself up, I was so desperately horny and wet.

The rest is a mind-bending blur of pleasure and ecstatic pain. I maybe came once or twice more, I'm not even sure. He pounded deep in me, shaking my body with his thrusts until I felt I would fall apart, spanking my ass so hard I winced, pulling my hair to put me in position, in charge and using me as he wanted. And I think he brought out something, maybe his phone; did he just need me, or did he need his phone to stay hard? It really didn't matter. He could have what he wanted, I was happy he wanted some small piece of me.

His thrusts grew faster and faster, the intensity growing, until he pulled out and threw me down on the floor, flat on my back, shoving his cock into my mouth, still hard and delicious. And he spoke, rapidly commanding me, "Suck and moan but do not swallow, show me the cum in your mouth when I finish." I felt my naked skin on the cold floor, his hot cock deep in my throat, his body hovering over me, me moaning and gagging and sucking desperately for his cum. I wished he'd allow me to beg for it, I wanted to beg so badly.

It took several minutes, with me just being his mouth to use, until he coated my tongue with cum. I dutifully opened my mouth as he had commanded while he dried off his cock by rubbing it all over my face. I loved feeling his cock on my face. He then stood up, rising above me, with one foot on either side of me, standing confidently with his pants still off, watching. Everything was a wait, I must be patient, I must obey. When he finally told me to swallow he said I could also thank him, and I did. Over and over and over again, thank you Sir, thank you, thank you, thank you for your cock and your cum. Thank you for using my mouth and my cunt.

He picked my body up and made me walk across the room, removing my blindfold in front of a full length mirror. I was a mess, fully used and exhausted. He called me a mouth and a cunt, and I was happy to be a mouth and a cunt. He told me to stare until he returned, to look at myself in the mirror and reflect on what I am. I did as I was told. I am holes for him to use, a mouth and a cunt. After several moments I remembered he had written something on me, and I twisted my body to read it in the mirror. It made me gasp to see it. It read:

BRAIN-DEAD

COCK-SUCKING

CUM-GUZZLING

GAG-WHORE

And I was so proud. I was worth something; he had called me a whore.

And then he didn't contact me for three days. I knew he would make me wait, but it was torturous, imagining what he could be doing with other women, terrified that he didn't need me any more. I worked out each day and stayed clothed as he had demanded, even though thinking of him made me want to play with myself, and I thought of him all the time.

When he finally summoned me I felt such relief, but I nearly cried when he appeared holding the VR headset again. I was back to square one, but I knew I must keep composed, I knew I must obey. And so I did, observing the rules, avoiding eye contact, obeying all instructions, glad that I was allowed to be naked this time. And he directed me fast and slow again, and shallow and deep, and came on me again, but I collected it in my mouth this time, hoping he'd want to see me with my mouth full of his cum. He didn't. He left to do other things.

But he didn't send me away. He allowed me to stay, naked on his couch. I sat there for a while; It almost felt like I was becoming a part of the furniture. He ordered food and asked me what I would like. He allowed me to eat with him at his counter in the kitchen. I did not talk, I did not make eye contact, but I was allowed to be in his normal space. I was shivering and confused, but well fed. I sensed something had changed.

And he addressed me directly. He told me to look at him, to look him in the eyes, which was intense and frightening. He asked me what I wanted from this, and I froze, saying the normal thing, I wanted to please and obey him. And that was true, of course, but not complete. And so he asked me again, slower this time, "What do you want from this? Take your time and answer truthfully." After some time I said..... "I need something different in my life. I have not found good direction. And I find you immeasurably attractive. I want a superior man to take control of me, to find me useful and obedient, to fuck me and beat me and insult me, to use my face and my cunt and to train my ass, to mold me into a superior servant so I may find satisfaction in life. I want to be found valuable."

I knew I'd done well with my words. I fought back a smile. I think he was a tiny bit taken aback, but he certainly didn't show displeasure. He considered his position before speaking, before setting some ground rules for our relationship. "You can stay if you do what I want, when I want it, and how I want it. I will use you for my pleasure. When asked I will allow you to say what you like or don't like, and it will be considered, but the final say in what we do will come from me. If you ever say no, I will not force you, and we will discuss, but if you are not able to give me satisfaction you will be asked to leave. Do you accept these terms?" I nodded my head, slowly and submissively, avoiding his eyes. "Yes Sir, I will obey."

And over the next several weeks I proved it. He worked my mouth over, stretching my throat, working deeper every day until he could fuck my face with no resistance. He fucked me in whatever position he wanted, contorting and twisting me into what he chose, forcing me to become more limber and flexible for him. He called me whatever name he wanted, a whore and a slut, finally calling me a slut, and much worse, a stupid bimbo fucktoy learning my place as a pleasure doll for men. He made me repeat these things and write them all over my body. And I loved it, being his useful fuck doll filled me with such satisfaction. He controlled my every move, barely leaving me time to breath before he sent my cum-coated body to the gym to make myself more attractive to him.

I wandered the house naked, exhausted, maybe even blindfolded, covered in cum and sweat, with filthy words written on my body, sore from running and lifting and fucking and gagging. I hurt and ached all over; I was in training, and I embraced it. I woke up in his guest bedroom with purpose and desire, where I had passed out exhausted the night before, still longing and wanting him. Eventually he decided it made the most sense if I stayed there every night.

So every day I awake in his extra room. I shower myself to be clean and prepared for him. I dry with hand towels that cannot cover my body as I must always be naked. I have no closets as I have no use for clothes. I sit in the room, passing what little time I have before he summons me, and I walk toward some new level of depravity that I have not yet lowered myself to. And everyday I prove that I can satisfy him, surprising even myself. He owns my full body now; I am completely in his control.