houndprincess ⚧︎

after stuffing her panties in my mouth to keep me quiet and fucking me harder

hands finding their hips. starting to move them slowly.

"keep going."

"i can't— i'm too close i'm gonna—"

"i know." moving their hips faster. not slower. "keep going anyway."

a devastated sound. hips moving despite themselves now, chasing and fighting it at the same time. "please— please i'm right there please—"

reaching down between us. thumb finding their clit.

the whimper they let out at the contact.

"no— no no no please that's too much please i'm gonna cum please—"

not stopping. working slow circles while their hips keep moving. feeling them get impossibly closer. feeling them try to still themselves and moving them again.

"you're not done." i remind them. "keep riding."

"i can't i can't i can't—" crying tears now. hips moving frantically despite every protest. body completely overriding everything their mouth is saying. “please let me cum please i’ve been so good please—”

"not yet." thumb still moving. steady. "you said you weren't done. so finish what you started."

a sob. hips working desperately. thighs shaking with the effort of taking all of it while i keep rubbing slow deliberate circles and refuse to give them what they're begging for.

"please—" barely a word anymore. "please please i can't hold it please—"

watching them fall apart trying to hold on. watching them lose every single battle with their own body while i stay completely unbothered underneath them.

That's why you're wearing this. That's why you don't get to cum whenever you want. I want you feel good in every inch of skin you have, as good as I get feel having you. The ache between your thighs never quite fading keeps the rest of you tuned for pleasure! When have you ever thought this much about touching your nipples? Or how good I feel sliding into your mouth? Or the tight, careful pleasure inside after I fuck your ass open? One ice cube on your skin now feels better than a dozen thoughtless, dissociated orgasms did then.

I'm wearing you out first. I'll let you fight because struggling against me will drain all of your strength. I'm watching the panic build in your eyes as I pin your wrists above your head. There's something special about watching a person sit and fight down their panic, watching them try and calm themselves so they can find a way out, only for every attempt to fail.

You swallow down the bile in your throat as I start to work your top off. The sound of a knife clicking open stills the last dregs of your panicked struggling. Stubborn buttons and lacy underthings are cut aside while the heat from your body warms the cold blade.

I'll take my time in exploring your chest, searching out every sensitive spot. Slowly kissing across your ribs before I move across your belly. Little by little your panic will mix with pleasure. You'll squirm before catching yourself, ashamed at how easily you respond to my attention.

“Am I the first one to take the time to find all these spots? Or has it just been that long pretty thing?”

How ashamed will you be when you moan for me? How ashamed when you reflexively arch into my mouth? How desperate will you be to grab my head and pull it into you as I finally wrap my greedy lips around your nipple?

How quickly will all those emotions chill when my knife presses against you?

“Just hold still dear. I'd hate to hurt you.”

When I've had my fill; when your chest is littered with hickies and bite marks, I'll drop myself lower. The last stitches of whatever you were wearing cut away and left to fall around your hips.

How hot will your shame burn when I point out how badly your body aches for me? Will you deny, protest? Or just sit in mortified silence?

Warm, inviting, so perfectly soft and yielding. My mouth is all the things the knife isn't as I take you past my lips.

How long until you're arching into me again? You'll whimper for release, though I think you don't know if you mean from knifepoint or across my tongue. I'll take my time here, the same as with your chest. Carefully mapping the spots that make your thighs twitch, memorizing what makes you draw in with those beautiful little gasps. I'll drag your body to the edge before yanking you back to reality with the tip of the blade pressed to the inside of your thigh.

When your body can no longer bear it, I'll allow you to finish. You'll shake, knicking yourself as your body vibrates and twists in desperate passion. After, while you listen to me swallow you down, some clear headed part of you will relax, hoping this means I'm finished with you.

I'm not.

I've taken so long learning the motions and responses of your body, building you up, so I'm going to savor you long past you the point you think you're done.

You'll stay. I'll take everything you have and more. You'll learn the consequence of catching my eye.

(If you would like to support my writing and help me relocate to a safer place I've included my cash app below or you can DM for my paypal)

'make me': I want this

'I need to punch something': I'm stressed and need walkies

'piss off': never leave me

'I'm going to kill you': thank you for the compliment

'I'm not a fucking dog': put a muzzle on me ASAP

'fuck you': I love you

'I don't need a handler': I'm a lost puppy

'I'm the fucking best': I'm completely pathetic

'I don't need your approval': please like me

Yes I said holes, not boy, not girl, not anything else, just a set of holes....

Not my fault they decided to drink too much - they were expecting this REALLY -

Otherwise why would they want to make it so easy to smack them around - to pin them against the wall outside the club - and to fuck them till they cry and only stop when I finish...