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The sound of him beating my flesh senseless filled the space, pre-cum coating my shaft with each pass.
“Yes, what?”
He stopped, forcing me to grab his hand in desperation.
“No, be a fucking good boy and say it again,” he growled.
“Yes. I wish I could fuck your tight hole every night.”
He started again, an evil game of edging as he forced me to beg for it over and over.
For a moment, the room fell into an uneasy silence. My pulse raced, every beat a cacophony as my throat constricted from the pressure of his grip. As much as I felt like I was dying, I couldn’t help but relish the feeling of being completely under his control. This was what I had been craving for so long.
My chest heaved as I took deep breaths, my body trembling with each exhale. “Work me,” I breathed.
“Shut up,” he said, his grip tight around my cock.
He continued without missing a beat, working my cock in one firm hand, and choking me with the other. I writhed beneath him, desperate for release. The pain and pleasure merged, creating an intensity that both tore at my insides and brought me an unparalleled sense of euphoria.
“I bet you dream about me at night, don’t you? Do you think about choking on my dick while you fuck your wife?”
“God…”
“There is no God here, just you, me, and that hole of yours I’m going to fuck.”
The build-up was agonizing, the way he held me prisoner between his hands, a captive in his own world of control and domination.
“Please,” I begged, my voice hoarse and strained. My cock throbbed, the desperate need for release nearly overpowering me.
He stalled his movements, again sending me spiraling. “Love it when you beg, Uncle.”
A darker-than-the-depths-of-hell smirk fell off his lips, and he revealed a string of thick rope. He bound my wrists tight, almost to the point of pain, and rose to his feet. My cock pulsed, leaking pre-cum, and every second that passed was like an agonizing hell.
“Ass up, face down, fucker,” he said, kneeling behind me.
The thrill of him doing this set my skin ablaze. I knew why he was doing it. He wanted to teach me a lesson, make me crumble and destroy my ego in the process for the pain I’d caused him, but he had no idea how much I wanted this, craved this. How much I fuckingneededthis. I arched my back, giving him the access he demanded, and let my head rest on the cool floor.
“Should I make it hurt?” he whispered in my ear, his breath hot.
I let out a shaky breath, silently begging for him to touch me again, but that only yielded another dark chuckle from his lips. The sound of a cap lifting filled the space, and he reached around.
He placed two thick drops of lube, no bigger than a quarter, on two of his fingers. “Just thinking about the pleas that are going to drip off your lip has me wet.”
Without warning, he stuck his lubed fingers in my ass, and I clenched around them. Then he pulled out. I closed my eyes, ignoring the throb of my cock. I waited, and his fingers threaded my hair, pulling so tight, it forced me to lift my head from the floor, then he plunged into me. He paused and then pulled out, taking the breath lodged in my lungs with him. Then he did it again until a steady rhythm formed.
“That’s right, take it,” he purred into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Your perfect life, your precious wife… it’s all a fucking lie. Say it, admit it.”
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t get the words to form on my tongue to admit my truths. His thrusts were angry, hard, and without remorse. The room was quiet, except for my labored breaths, and the sound of his ball sack hitting my ass as my mind swam in a sea of raw, unhinged need.
“You want it so bad, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a soft whisper. He pulled out, the cool air like a shockwave to my exposed hole. “You’re just a filthy piece of meat, begging for your fucking life. Begging for a second chance.”
He continued to thrust into me, his body a perfect storm of anger and lust. I knew he was close. His breath grew ragged, his grip on my hair tightened. His fingers dug into my hips as he moved. My body shook with each impact, the pleasure-pain combination building to a crescendo.
“I’m going to come in your ass and watch it seep out before I spit on you and leave.”
God, please do.
He wasted no time drilling into me like an eighteen-year-old with their first sex doll. The moment he paused, I felt him unload, and it caused my cock to twitch in an unexpected release. The heartbeat of flesh pulsing within me was a feeling I didn’t want to end. Just like he promised, he pulled out, spreading my cheeks to watch. A moment of eerie silence hung between us, and then he spat on my abused hole— not once, but twice—before confessing his struggle to hate me while simultaneously hating that he couldn’t.
