His low, guttural huff burns across my wet folds. It’s the sound of a beast caught on the scent of blood.
“You are my human. My only human. There will never be another.”
Even while I’m warmed by the assurance, it’s short lived when he tears me in two. When the full width and girth of his tongue — an impossible size to take outside a dream — conquers my unprepared orifice.
I howl with the pain and the impromptu betrayal of my body as he forces me to orgasm. As the attack cripples me in his clutches and I’m made to take it.
He snarls with animalistic pleasure as my walls seize and rush. As I release a flood of liquid heat over his face. His hold tightens, restraining what little movement I have.
I’m entirely at his mercy when he frees his tongue, sweeps it up and over the mess I made and snarls, “Again.”
I start to shake my head, try to find words to tell him I can’t, but he’s taking me, hard and vicious. Filling my pussy with greedy strokes of a monster devouring his prey.
And I sob as I cum for him. Again and again. As my body conforms to his command, his need to make me squirt for him.
“When you return, I will milk you like this every morning like I used to. You will feed me again until I’m sated.”
I’m too limp to move. Too fuzzy to comprehend when he releases me to the air. I think it’s over as I dangle several feet off the ground, pussy tender and dripping.
But the hand that takes my waist is smaller. Not human size. They still extend around me like he’s holding a doll and I realize he’s shrunk down. Not by much but I’m bound and open and at the perfect level to the cock he’s holding in his other hand.
It’s not the same size it had been when I had him in my mouth. He’s nearly double the size and I was already using two hands.
“Please ... you’re too big,” I whimper.
“But my sleeve was made for this.”
I’m the sleeve, I realize, horrified as I watch the flat head find my used hole. It pushes in with a grunt from him and a whimper from me.
“Oh, please ... please, no. It’s too much. Too ... oh God!”
He ignores me and I don’t blame him when I’m pleading and cumming the deeper he pushes. How can he believe me when I’m gushing and thrashing, toes curling in ecstasy? I don’t even believe me.
“My little sleeve is making such a mess,” he taunts. “Such a tiny hole opens so big for me. Shh,” he whispers when I weep. “You will take my knot.”
No amount of bracing prepares me for the catch. The bulge at the base.
“I can’t,” I cry.
“My queen will claim her throne. When you sit, you will only sit here with your legs wide for the world to see where you belong.”
My head falls back with the first rush of pressure. My jaw clenches, biting back my scream.
“Dirty sleeve.” He chuckles when I climax.
My body no longer recognizes the difference between pain and pleasure and craves both.
Panting, I open my eyes and stare down at the bump half inside me.
It doesn’t go unnoticed how gentle he’s being. I know he could have forced himself in and fucked me, and I would have cum on his cock because there is nothing I want more than to feel him ruining my pussy, but he’s taking his time. Letting me enjoy every orgasm.
“Fill me,” I blurt. “Take me like I deserve.”
I think I see a flare of red through the swirling shadows, but it doesn’t matter when his claws close around my thighs. Right around like he’s holding the handles on a bicycle, and he pulls me down.
Violent.
My scream is drowned by his roar. By his madness as he forces me over him again and again. Harder. Harder.
