cut away, clear away

On the list of bad ideas you've had, letting your boss have his way with you is pretty high up there. Mostly because he's your boss, but also because you are never getting rid of the deep bite marks he's so fond of leaving all over your neck and shoulders.

He's got you pinned in his lap, chest to back, his arms wrapped tight around you like a constrictor. You squirm, breathless from his grip, but between his hold and the way his teeth sink into the soft skin of your shoulder, you can't go far.

"Easy," he hums, split tongue laving over the a particularly deep bite on your throat to taste your blood. He moans as the taste fills his mouth, and you're pretty sure it speaks volumes to your declining mental state that it only makes you soak your panties, your cunt throbbing almost painfully.

You squirm again, whining when one of his massive palms presses flat against your stomach, pinning you in place. The sheer size of him--all of him--never ceases to make you dizzy, the width of his hand covering the length of your torso. His other hand slides down to your thigh, dragging your legs apart. You almost feel like a doll, manhandled and pinned to his liking.

"Now, where do you think you're going?" His tone is mocking as he coos in your ear, tongue dragging along the length of your jaw.

"V-Victor, please-"

"Poor thing. You're not satisfied unless you're nice and full, hm?" He punctuates his words with a bite to the nape of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak and jerk against him. His hand on your stomach dips under your scrubs and panties, cool fingers dragging through your slick folds. The cold metal of his rings press against your clit, the dizzying stimulation making your hips buck.

Two thick fingers slip into you, your legs spreading wider in a desperate attempt to accommodate them. The filthy wet sound that fills the room as he works them in and out of you makes your face burn with humiliation, your spine twisting in a vain attempt to hide your face in his shoulder.

"Getting shy on me now?" The mocking lilt to his voice only has you getting embarrassingly wet, your hips rocking in time with the curl of his digits. His tongue darts out again, licking the sweat off your clavicle when your head rolls back against his shoulder, your core clenching tight with the need to come.

Your sweet moans and whines fill the air, the sound morphing into a frustrated cry when his fingers slip out of you, delaying your orgasm.

"Victor-!"

His laugh from behind you is nothing but evil, his hand drenched in your slick patting your flank affectionately. "Shh, up, up, girl," he tuts, helping you stand on shaky legs. "You'll get what you want."

Your shoulders ache as you lean your hands against his desk, the bite marks littering your skin leaking fresh blood from the movement. You don't have to see Victor to know he's watching the little rivulets drip down your skin, and you're not at all surprised to feel him lapping it up, tongue dragging over wounded skin, while he undoes his belt.

"You're a fucking freak, you know that?" you tease breathlessly, but affectionately, a slight whine to your voice. His lips curl into a smile against your skin, that same dark laugh reverberating from him as his hands find your waist.

"And you beg for it. So, what does that make you?"

You don't get a chance to respond before he's lifting you like you weigh nothing, pressing your torso flat against the top of his desk so you're bent over it obscenely. The toes of your shoes barely scrape the wood of the floor if you stretch, giving you little leverage to do, well, anything. You've been debauched against this desk more times than you can count, but he's never actually thrown you over it like this--you're embarrassed to admit how much you like being at his mercy. The whole set up has you feeling unsteady, your hands white-knuckling the far edge of the desk.

His hand presses down on your lower back, spanning the width of it and pinning you in place. "Sweet girl," he coos, faux-saccharine as he leans his weight on you to the point where you almost can't breathe. "You look so pretty like this, don't you?"

The thick head of his cock nudges through your slick folds, pressing in just enough to make you jerk and whine. No matter how many times he fucks you, you always struggle to take him, feeling like you're being split open by the sheer size of him.

You mewl his name, gasping and arching as he forces another inch in you, just the head of him making your poor cunt spasm in an attempt to take it. "That's it, you can take it, hm?" He leans over you, an arm coiling around your waist in a way that's not entirely unlike a snake would its next meal. His teeth and tongue find your skin again, this time tormenting your delicate sides and the soft skin over your spine. Every slight distraction and gush of wetness resulting from his mouth is taken advantage of, until he's buried completely in your dripping pussy, the stretch making you pant and claw at the wood under you. You feel almost too full, the pressure making you dizzy like you're a virgin again.

"Good girl," he hums, hand smoothing over your hair as you shake and twitch, desperately trying to adjust. When you start to calm, that hand fists in your hair, jerking your head back hard enough to make you yelp. Your feet scrabble uselessly against the floor, your spine arched into an unnatural angle as he holds you in place and starts fucking into you hard. Tears blur your vision almost immediately, the mix of pleasure and pain making you squeal and gasp with every heavy thrust, the tip of his cock sliding just a little too deep.

"V-Victor," you wail, voice cracking. Everything is so overwhelming, and all you can do is cry and take it.

"Hm? What's wrong, darling? I though this was what you wanted?" His tone edges on cruel, his arm unwinding from your waist only so he can wrap his hand around your throat, thumb pressing against your rapidly fluttering pulse. He can feel every bob of your throat, every sob you choke on against his palm, cool metal rings pressing into overheated skin. The hand in your hair lets go to grip your hip, using his hold on your throat and side to fuck into you even harder.

You scream, pussy spasming as you soak his cock with slick, your body embarrassingly aroused by all of this. You're sure you're being loud enough for anyone outside to hear you--not that you being Victor's pet is any real secret--and the idea makes your skin crawl with heat, a mix of shame and want that makes your head spin.

"P-Please," you choke out, tears streaming down your cheeks, bruises forming on the tops of your thighs as every thrust drives them into the edge of the desk. "I- I- oh god, I can't-"

"Mm, yes you can," he hisses, pulling you up so your back is against his chest. You really can't move like this, completely at his mercy as he slams into your abused cunt over and over again. His preternaturally long tongue darts out, sliding over your cheeks, lapping up salty tears. "You'll take it, and you'll like it."

The edge of command in his voice has you gushing over his cock, a sharp laugh tumbling out of him. "See? You love it."

You're beginning to see stars in your vision, an almost frightening amount of pressure building up in your core as you get close. You know you're babbling, can feel the vibrations of your own voice in your throat, but you're too out of it to process what you're actually saying. If the way he lets go of your throat to grip your hips and slam into you in earnest is any indicatio though, you're probably begging.

"Want me to breed this tight cunt, hm?" he taunts, nails biting into the plush fat of your hips. You nod, gasping for air through your broken sobs, another wave of pleading falling from your lips. "Come for me, then. You need to earn it, sweet girl."

That certainly doesn't take much convincing, your body writhing where you're precariously bent over his desk. You kick weakly as the pleasure makes you lose all sense, your knee banging into the solid wood of the desk, your body trying to curl in on itself from how good it feels. You come with a sharp wail, your pussy throbbing wildly as you soak his cock in your release, your slick dripping down your thighs.

You faintly hear him snarl behind you, the world around you glazed with a tint of unreality as you ride out your orgasm, your walls milking him harshly. He slams into you a few more times, punching breathless cries out of you before he buries himself deep, cock twitching as he fills you to the brim, cum overflowing from you and adding to the mess on your thighs.

You whimper when he pulls out, your abused hole gaping and leaking your combined release. You lift your head enough to catch sight of yourself in the mirror across the room, and you look thoroughly wrecked--makeup smeared around your eyes and down your cheeks, drool staining your chin, lips red and swollen from biting them.

"Come here," he murmurs, voice much softer than it was a moment ago, fingers fitting over the bruises he'd left on your waist moments ago to lift you, settling your sore body in his lap as he sits back in his chair. You collapse into him like a puppet with the strings cut, teary face tucked against his chest. One arm winds around your waist, his other hand carding through your hair as you start to drift off. You know you're going to feel disgusting when you wake up--sticky and dehydrated--but he's so warm, and he's cooing praise in your ear, and really what else is a girl to do?

Giving up control doesn't come naturally to Zeno. Whether that be in every day life, or in the bedroom, he's used to having full control over situations. So, letting you tie his wrists to his desk chair so you can do god knows what is a little unnerving, to say the least.

It's hard for him to say no to you, though, when your mouth feels so good on his neck.

"Too tight?" you murmur as you slip two fingers under the restraints, making sure they're not cutting off blood flow. They're just two of his ties that you stole, but still. He almost doesn't hear you at first, head tipped back, distracted by the feeling of your mouth on him. You'd find the trust he has in you endearing, if you weren't so focused on driving him insane.

"They're fine." His hands flex over the chair arms, as if testing how easy they'd be to snap if he wanted to. He could, but he doesn't, and you reward him with a kiss, one that he chases with a growl when you pull away to stand in front of him.

You start with your blouse, slowly undoing the buttons as molten amber eyes glare up at you. They track every inch of skin you reveal, pupils dilating when you shrug the silky fabric off your shoulders to reveal ivory lace covering your breasts. His hands flex again, the peak of his cheekbones going red from the way you grin at him.

"You're testing my patience." The low rasp of his voice makes your stomach flip, heat pooling low in your gut.

"That's the point, isn't it?"

His eyes narrow, head cocked like a pissed off cat, but there's no real anger there, especially with the way he tenses when your fingers trail along the zipper of your skirt.

"Darling..."

You take mercy on his vain attempts at being in control here, pulling down the zipper at a speed that is nothing short of agonizing for him. The skirt pools at your feet and you step out of it, leaving you in just a lingerie set that color matches perfectly with his favorite suit.

His gaze trails over your thighs, your hips, greedily drinking in every lush curve, so distracted by the sight he's startled out of his reverie by you dropping to your knees in front of him. He moves as if to touch your hair, only to glare daggers at the restraints when they keep his hands in place.

"Poor Zeno," you coo, taking far too much joy in using the same mocking tone he likes to use on you. Your fingertips slide up his leg, smoothing the fabric of his slacks until you can lightly drag your nails over the bulge in them. His eyes flutter shut, breath shuddering as he tries to control himself. "You just want to touch me so bad, don't you?"

"Don't be a brat." His words are all but a snarl, but they veer off into a groan as you put your hand flat against him, palming him just hard enough to feel his cock twitch. Your own arousal is getting hard to ignore, the gusset of your panties saturated with your slick, but you're determined to see this through.

"I don't quite think you're in any position to tell me what to do." Before he can get too worked up about that comment and break the restraints, you distract him by unzipping his slacks, running your tongue over the bulge in his boxers before taking his cock out. He's already rock-hard in your hand, the tip leaking--you wouldn't have thought teasing would get to him this much, but it clearly is, especially with the almost pained sound he lets out when you take your hands off him.

"You're not playing fair." You take no small amount of pleasure in how breathless he sounds, or in the way his gaze turns rapturous when you unclip your bra and let it slide off your shoulders.

"Oh, hush, you'll get what you want," you scold playfully, leaning behind you to fish a bottle out of the pocket of your skirt. The lube is cold as you pour some on your chest, a little shiver running through you as you rub it between your tits. He looks adorably confused for a moment, brow furrowed as he watches you prepare.

"What are you-? Oh, fuck-"

His head falls back with a groan as you press your tits around his cock, the warm weight of him feeling like heaven. He tries to keep his eyes open and locked on you, but when you start to move, and wrap that pretty mouth around his tip, he loses the battle quickly. His hips buck in shallow little movements, the angle giving him far too little leverage to fuck up into you properly.

"Feel good?" You lave the flat of your tongue over his slit just to hear him whine. The sound sends a jolt through you, your thighs pressing together hard to alleviate the ache between them.

"You goddamn brat," he hisses through his teeth, hands flexing against the restraints again. "Should make you choke on it for teasing me like this."

You grin, pressing your tits tighter around his cock. "Should. Can't." His eyes flash at the teasing tone to your voice, a growl rising in the back of his throat. You don't give him time to retort, not when you're pulling back enough to replace the squeeze your breasts with the warm wetness of your throat.

He bucks up into you, moaning at the way your throat constricts around his cock, his expression wonderfully debauched. His eyes crack open enough to gaze down at you, glowing amber watching your lipstick smear as you bob your head along his length. Your tongue traces the underside of his cock with every stroke, and you give his slit extra attention, moaning around him over the way he twitches in your mouth.

"Fuck, c'mon," he pants, the rasp of his voice teetering over into desperate. "Deeper, you can take it. I'm so close, baby, c'mon."

You obey him--partially--taking him down your throat until your nose is pressed against his abdomen, working deep breaths through your nose to keep from choking. Then you just... stay there. You don't move, mischief glittering in your eyes as you peek up at him, the startled, pained look on his face making your entire day.

"You- god fucking damnit," he all but snarls, the angle stopping him from properly fucking your face himself. His face is flushed high on his cheeks, any ounce of his usual composure gone. "Move."

You pull off slowly, careful to give him as little stimulation as possible before kissing his tip. "Say please."

With the way he balks at you, you'd think you'd just asked him to do something heinous. "You can't be serious."

You shrug, sitting back on your heels, idly running a finger up and down the underside of his cock. "I could just leave you like this. Would you prefer that?"

A muscle in his jaw feathers, teeth grinding together so hard you can almost hear it. He seems to genuinely be considering the latter option, but the ache in his core tips him back to the former.

"...Please."

"Hm, what was that? I don't think I heard you, honey."

"Please!" He means to snap at you, but it comes off far to whiny and desperate.

"Good boy," you hum, and promptly take him back down your throat again, the relieved whine he lets out going straight to your pussy.

He, wisely, doesn't tell you when he's getting close again, but the way his cock starts to spasm in your mouth gives him away. You let him get right there, and...

Stop again.

You think you've really gotten him, given the way he curses and squirms like you're hurting him. The power goes straight to your head, having such control over such a willful man-

You hear fabric tear to your right, and suddenly his hand is fisted in your hair, forcing you up and down his aching length. You choke at the sudden change in pace, but he doesn't let up, laughing breathlessly at the tears welling in your eyes. It's a complete 180 from how he was whimpering just a moment ago, and you think that perhaps you pushed him just a little too far.

"Fucking brat, does it hurt? Good." He frees his other hand, wrapping it tight around the back of your neck to keep you exactly where he wants you. You eventually get your bearings, fingers twisting desperately in his slacks to ground yourself as he fucks your face like a toy, his chest heaving with growls and pants. You moan around him as he uses you, eyes rolling back--you could almost come from this. "That's it, fucking take it-"

He pulls you down on his cock none-too-gently as he starts to come, holding you against the base while the thick liquid pours down your throat. "Swallow it," he snarls, keeping you pinned as you work to obey him, tears slipping down the apple of your cheeks.

He finally lets you off when he's satisfied, pupils dilating as he watches you sputter and gasp for air, recovering from the rough treatment. You don't get much time to recover, though, before his hands are around your waist, picking you up and pinning you to the smooth mahogany of his desk.

You squeal when he lifts you, and the smirk on his lips, the sharp gleam in his eyes, has you realizing you bit off more than you can handle.