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“I won’t fit yet,” he mutters.
“I don’t care,” I murmur. “Make it hurt, rip me, I don’t care. Just fuck me,” I snarl, fighting his hold and feeling the pain bloom in my stomach. I remember the other men’s hands, their touches, their bodies. I need him to replace them with someone I choose, someone I want. “Make me bleed, make me come and scream, Boogeyman. Kill me if you can,” I dare, knowing he won’t back down now.
He can’t.
I’m his new prey.
He lets go of one of my legs and holds me there like I weigh nothing as he reaches between us, unzips his jeans, and pulls out his hard cock. I swallow, eyes wide. Shit, he wasn’t messing around. It’s fucking huge, wide as hell, and so long, my eyes water at the thought of having it inside me. But under that sudden fear at the size of his monster cock is desire—a low, burning desire to feel it tear me apart, to slam inside of me as he cuts me.
To make me bleed, even as he makes me come.
I’m fucked up. I blame them. But maybe I was before I was ever kidnapped. I don’t give a fuck, it’s not going to change now. This is who I am, and I refuse to be ashamed or hate myself the way they want me to. My body has got me through all the torture and trauma, and now it gets what it wants.
Boogeyman… Shit, I can’t keep calling him that.
“What’s your name?” I ask, my eyes flickering to his then back down to his monster cock.
He ignores me, as usual.
He releases his cock and drags his open hand down my pussy, gathering my cream before wrapping it around his hard length and stroking, coating it in my need. I shiver in his hold, watching him. My breathing quickens as I prepare for the pain and pleasure that is soon to follow. He observes me silently the entire time.
He reaches down and slides those huge fingers, intersected with scars, down my pussy and back up before slapping my clit, making me cry out at the sudden surge of pleasure. He does it again, harder and harder, until I’m groaning and grinding into his hand, and then he moves away before circling my dripping hole.
Without warning, he shoves two of those thick, scarred fingers inside me, and the sudden, sharp pain has a squeal leaving my lips. He glares at me, silencing me as he slams them into my channel and twists, stretching me before crooking them and rubbing my wall. He brushes over that spot that has my leg jerking in his grip and my eyes closing as I relax into the wall, lifting my hips to take his fingers, even as the pain fades to a burning pleasure. He adds another and another. There are four fingers inside me, and he doesn’t wait for me to adjust.
No, Boogeyman pulls them out and slams them back in, fucking me with them. The pain and pleasure mingle, making me pant and grunt as I ride them unashamedly. I shake my head, it’s too much yet not enough at the same time. The wet squelch of his fingers is loud, even over my breathing, as he rams them into me.
He’s finally had enough, silencing my cries by smashing his lips against mine. I moan into his mouth as he forces my lips open and slips his tongue in, tangling it with mine. He dominates my mouth as his hand speeds up, his thumb hitting my clit in sync with his thrusts. I lift and grind, twisting on his hand as he swallows my cries. I have to rip my head away, needing to breathe, and he kisses down my chin to my chest. His tongue drags through the blood there as he rolls his eyes up to watch me.
He blows air over my hard nipple before lapping it with his tongue and finally drawing it into his mouth, sucking hard before his teeth come down on the tip. He bites into my sensitive skin until I cry out again. Growling in anger, he slips his fingers from my channel for a moment as he juggles me, and then I feel something cold and wet against my clit and pussy.
Hard.
Metal.
The knife.
He pops my nipple from his mouth. “Scream one more time, and I’ll cut your clit, understood?” he snarls. My eyes widen as my pussy clenches, and I nod. His head lowers again, going to my other breast, leaving a bite mark behind. His fingers pummel into my pussy, restarting that punishing pace as he builds me higher and higher towards an orgasm. I don’t know if it’s him, the pain, or the threat of the knife, but it has me wilder than ever.
I twist and buck, biting my lip to stop myself from crying out. I fight him… and Boogeyman? He loves it. He eats it up. He slams me against the wall, removing his hand just as I was about to fall into the abyss of an orgasm. I feel his cock then, pressing to my pussy as he releases my nipple and leans back, staring at me. His lips are red, and his eyes are wild. He pushes the knife harder against my clit, grinding it down, and it throws me over the edge.
I come so hard I see stars.
Yet through that pleasure, I feel the knife move, and a moment later, agony tears through me. I force my eyes open, even as my legs shake and my pussy pulses. The pain and pleasure meet, making me silent and wild. Blood streams down my belly to my pussy, mixing with my cream.
He cuts me as I come. He makes another quick slice and then pushes his cock into me, forcing it through my tight, fluttering channel with a snarl. He pulls out and pushes back in, even as I struggle to breathe, caught in his grip like a bunny in a net.
Nothing compares to him. I thought I was strong. So strong, so sure. Boogeyman is a monster. He craves pain, bloodshed, and chaos, and he’s fucking me, forcing that huge cock into my pussy and not giving me an inch of leeway. The knife is still pressed against my skin, waiting for the next cut. The anticipation makes me gasp as I look down, watching his huge cock stretch my hole as it rams in and out of me, glistening with my cream and blood.
As I’m looking, he takes the knife and rubs the blunt side against my clit. The pleasure builds again, mixed with pain and fullness, and I’m on the cliff, coming again when he runs the wet knife across my skin to the side, digging the sharp end into one of the healing letters. With a smooth move, he swipes down.
My head falls back as I fight through the haze of pain that slowly tips to pleasure as he fucks me with long, hard thrusts, slanting my hips to hit that spot inside me over and over again. My eyes close without permission, my body tightens up, and every single part of me hurts and sparks with pleasure. I can’t breathe.
Can’t see.
Can’t think or hear.
All I feel is the mixture he’s created as the pleasure grows, tempered each time he slices.
