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I feel something against my pussy. Something thick and hard, something designed for penetration.
He pushes it inside me slowly, ribbed surfaces and scales and ever growing thickness that is already vibrating inside me.
“Is that… getting bigger?”
“Yes.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. “It inflates. I’m going to stretch you, Suli. I am going to make sure you remember this punishment. I’m going to leave my mark on you. Inside and out.”
“What the hell is it?” I barely get the question out.
“We use these to train females to prepare for their first lay,” he says. “It conditions the musculature of the canal. In your case, it will teach your naughty pussy a lesson.”
He turns it slowly inside me, making me feel every bit of it. I feel my pussy rippling internally, my muscles and inner walls reacting to the pulsing, humming, rolling sensation of this saurian sex toy.
I reach for some kind of stability. Something to hold onto. All I find is his leg. His big, muscly leg beneath the leathery fabric of his pants. I clench my fingers around his leg, and I hold on as if holding on will somehow stop the overwhelming sensations inside me. But it won’t. Nothing will, because he is doing this very intentionally. He wants me to suffer through pleasure. He wants to break me through my own desire.
He might just succeed.
My breath is coming in short, rasped gasps as pleasure rushes through me, finding every part of me, even the little joints in my toes and fingers. There’s no part of me he’s not touching with this infernal tool.
I start to curse. First under my breath, and then out loud, more robustly as I start to lose control.
Damn him for being smarter than I gave him credit for. I figured he’d beat me, that made sense. I thought he’d fuck me too. The way he came the first time we were together, he passed out so hard I was able to steal his bike. I don’t know much about saurian mating customs, but I am pretty damn sure that’s not entirely normal.
This time, he’s not fucking me. This time he’s keeping himself clear of the arousal zone. His cock is safely in his pants, and I am the one losing my mind with arousal as he keeps using the tool to ever increasingly effective… er… effect. I can’t even think with words anymore. It’s all starting to be colors and feelings. Even distinguishing objects one from the other is getting a bit much. The world is a big buzzing confusion of things and I am a helpless little consciousness at the very core of it.
He’s doing something to my brain.
He’s fucking my actual brains out. That’s what it feels like. It feels like being manually rewired in real time. He’s now plunging and thrusting the tool in and out of me, having deflated it just enough to allow it to slide in and out of me.
Thorn
I love having her over my lap, writhing and moaning, her pussy dripping with need. She’s so close to orgasm, but she won’t be coming yet. She won’t be coming until she’s good and submissive to me. She’ll be suffering for quite some time, I imagine. It won’t be today. It probably won’t be tomorrow. It may not even be the day after.
“This could go on for weeks and months. This might be the torment I promised you,” I say to her. “You might never come again. I might hold you over my lap hour after hour, day after day and toy with this wet little human hole until you are so close to release it feels like you might go insane if you don’t come. And then I won’t let you come. I won’t give you the satisfaction of orgasm or release or relief.”
She makes an incoherent animal sound in response. I know I am getting through to her. She can’t argue in this state. She can’t resist. Every impulse and instinct she has is forcing her to abandon her rebellion and simply be what she is, a helpless little human suffering in the way nature made her to suffer.
I keep fucking her with the tool, so glad I thought to co-opt it. This is essentially a medical device, designed to aid the rare females of our species when they start their first laying cycle, or sometimes to recover from egg injuries that can occur. This is not designed to punish, or to pleasure. But when used on this creature, a human female, it does both those things in intense measure.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Suli? Are you ready to admit what you are?”
She says something completely incoherent once again. It is not quite as satisfying now that I really want her to beg.
“After all you’ve had to say so far, now you can’t form even a single word?” I tease her mockingly. “You were so bold, so brave, and now you’re just a speechless, writhing little mess over my lap, wanting nothing more than to come. That’s what you want… isn’t it?”
“Yes!” She finally gasps a word. “YES!” She repeats it more loudly than before.
“Well, if you want to come again in this life, first you’re going to have to give me an apology. And you’re going to have to make it a very good one. It’s going to have to be the kind of apology you remember for the rest of your days.”
“Fucking asshole,” she curses. “Just let me… please… you dick.”
“That’s not an apology. That’s not even close to an apology,” I chide her, leaving the tool deep inside her for a moment as I return to the task of punishing the thick, round cheeks which nature may as well have made expressly for the purpose of being beaten.
She bucks and squirms and continues to curse until I start again with the egg tool, and once again the state of need takes her to a point where she can no longer articulate a word.
“I can do this for as long as it takes. I can do it until you are entirely dehydrated, and then I will soak you in water and start over again.”
“I drink water,” she manages to get out before once again collapsing against my legs.
