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Greedy fingers lingered over my body, reaching between my legs as he fucked me. I started crying, not because I didn’t want it, but because it felt so good and I hated him for it as much as I hated myself. He didn’t stop, not for one second. His fingers touched my clit, brushing against it gently as his cock pummeled me. It would have brought me to my knees had I not been strapped in like a whore, and I craved so much more of it. I was eager, as eager as I’d never been with Ellis before, and I couldn’t get enough of him.
There were no words needed as he claimed my body, fucking and taking from me as much as he gave me, the orgasm building between my legs into heights I didn’t even know existed. It was coming from inside me, something eager and needy building in my sore cunt, so ready to release on him, to beg him to keep going, yet my mouth remained firmly shut, my moans escaping softly through my closed lips.
He reached in front of me with his free hand and forcibly parted my lips, making me open my mouth. The second he did, my moans grew louder and more intense, and I started begging like the whore truly I was.
“Please,” I whispered. “I need more, don’t stop, Sir. I need you to keep going.”
For a second, I was convinced he’d tell me to call him Ellis, but no such instruction came, and he kept fucking, making me into his obedient little toy that would do anything for the shot of cream I knew he was going to put deep inside me. I couldn’t wait. My pussy massaged him in a way I didn’t know was possible, and I clenched at his cock and the new sensation of being filled up to the brim. I wanted, needed so much more, but there was no sign of him giving up anytime soon.
I wanted him to talk to me, and when he didn’t, soft little moans left my lips and I felt like a spoiled brat because he’d gotten me addicted to those dirty words, whispered in my ear and promising things so filthy I couldn’t even think of them myself. I needed him to speak, needed to hear his voice to pull me over the edge, whatever that was… I’d had orgasms before, but nothing like this. Building up to a crescendo that threatened to be so intense it would just make my whole body implode.
“I need more, Sir,” I said again, losing my shyness, losing any trace of the girl I used to be. “I need you to fuck me harder, I need you to be rough, I need you to hurt me, Sir.”
He growled and it got me going. I rubbed my filled-up pussy against the contraption I was strapped to, and he fucked harder, his fingers forcing their way into my mouth. It felt like he was holding back, and I wanted to hate him for it, but a part of me was grateful that he was going easy on me. It was my first time. I hadn’t wanted this until I felt his presence in the room, his cock rubbing against my swollen pussy. Now, there was nothing else I wished for. Just him and me, being fucked like a whore, treated like a toy. I would have done anything for more of it.
He felt different than the man I knew him to be. More in control. I liked it.
His hand went up to my stomach, away from my clit, and I cried out in protest. And then he was touching my tits, and I felt my own juices being spread over my nipples, making me cry out for more. He tweaked my nipples into hard points, and I ground my hips against him, hoping for more. I felt him move his hand away and I protested loudly at the loss of his touch. And then he hit me, right on my tits, hard slaps meant to hurt me, meant to get me off.
“Stop,” I let out in a whisper, shocked at what he was doing. “Don’t…”
He hit me again, harder this time. My nipples were painfully hard, painfully ready for more. The knowledge of how desperate I was for the pain made me lose the color in my cheeks. It was embarrassing. So fucking embarrassing what he was capable of doing to my body. I wanted to hate him so much, but I couldn’t help the way my body responded to his roughness.
“Stop…” I begged, yet my body arched so he’d have easier access. “No more.”
He slapped and twisted and pinched me into an orgasm. I couldn’t stop myself, barely realizing he’d pulled out his cock and was now paying close attention to my tits instead. He kept hitting, pinching. I felt him bite down on my nipple and my consciousness exploded into fireworks set against a dark, inky night. I came like I never had from his torture, my legs shaking uselessly against their shackles, my pussy gushing as he held his palm in place, spreading my own wetness back over me.
