ShadowedOppulence

Summary and character descriptions: Scene portrays a dominant character (“you”) performing sexual acts on an unwilling, tied up and implied to be kidnapped character (“her”) together with a submissive/switchy but willingly participating character (“I”). Sex toys including a vibrator and strap-on are used.

NOTE! Do not read if sensitive to the topics. This is a piece of creative writing and erotic fiction that exists in kink setting only.

The Gift

What the fuck? The apartment is dark and silent when I arrive. You were supposed to be home by now. Maybe you’re just late. I head to our bedroom ready to get to bed after a long day. The closer I get to the door, the clearer I can hear: soft, beautiful, defeated cries. I open the door.

“Hello, baby. I’ve got a gift for you.”

You have her tied up and gagged, barely clothed, her blouse unbuttoned and makeup running. She gets scared by my apparently unexpected arrival, but for a second I can see hope in her eyes. Maybe I’d help her? Maybe she’s safe?

Poor girl.

You’ve been teasing her. There are toys all over the bed, the one in your hand still buzzing.

“Like what you see? Do you want to join us?”

My heart is racing, I feel her fear. But I’m already wet by the sight.

I smile at you, softly. She sobs, the hint of hope gone.

“Do you feel bad for her?”

A little, I nod.

“You don’t need to. This is on me. She’ll be fine. I’ll take care of everything. It’s all on me. Just enjoy yourself. Just enjoy her.”

You press the vibrator onto her panties. She cries out.

How long have you been going?

You reach out to pull me closer and kiss me.

“Get comfortable, baby.”

I start undressing. She gives me confused, concerned looks, but she’s clearly too shy to stare.

“Look at her, slut!” you tell her, firmly, but almost sweetly. “You’re here for her. So look at her.”

I blush. She doesn’t dare taking her eyes off me now. She’s squirming and her eyes fill with tears, but she watches. And I watch her.

“Do you want to touch?”

I shake my head shyly.

“C’mon, baby, don’t be so nervous. You don’t need to do much. Just help me a little. Take off her panties.”

I nearly moan as her wetness leaves a streak on her thigh. She’s too scared to kick or struggle, but you hold her still just to make sure. You don’t want me to get hurt. But I can tell you certainly want to hurt her.

She begs through her gag as you get yourself ready. I draw circles on her skin with the tip of my finger while you pull up the harness. On her stomach, on her hipbone, along her thighs. Like I’m consoling her. But I’m not.

“Touch her.”

That wasn’t a suggestion. You’re telling me.

I look her in the eyes when I stroke her up and down with my finger, nervous but enchanted. She can’t help but arch against my touch. You’ve left her so sensitive. I look at you, silently seeking your reaction. You look proud. I feel like I’m channeling your power.

I get braver. I want my lips on her skin. I want to taste her tears. I want to cup her breasts and squeeze until it hurts.

You lean your back to the wall, your arms crossed, watching me losing myself for a second. Letting go and using her. Doing what you might. Her cries and distressed moans make me crave for more. Finding my way down her body. Kissing her torturously light between her legs before tasting her like I’m starving.

You’re wonderfully patient. This wasn’t the plan, but you must be too proud of me to stop me yet. But she starts tensing up. You don’t want her to have the relief just yet. Not this easy, not so gentle.

“Aren’t you eager!” You cue me to come back to earth. “Would you like to do the honors?”

I know you’re teasing me. I smirk, giving her a couple more licks until I give her back to you. You kiss me again, tasting her on my lips, and wipe the side of my mouth with your finger.

She’s a mess when you spread her open. Letting out helpless and broken, exhausted exhales, drool dripping from the side of her gagged mouth. She sounds heavenly. I can’t get enough.

I lie down by her side. You push her knees further apart until she’s trembling from the intensity of the stretch. Gliding your hands along her inner thighs. Grabbing her waist. She sobs harder. I can nearly hear the repetitions of “no”, muffled and vacant.

I’m almost jealous by now. And I don’t even know which place I’d rather take.

You look like you’re about to finally stab in the length of the toy, when you step back and let go of her instead.

“Stay still.”

There’s the kind of coldness in your voice that says you’re not playing games. It’s not me you’re talking to, but I freeze nonetheless. Out of habit.

You shift your gaze to me. Your vision burning every spot of skin it touches. Yet I shiver. You meet my eyes and get closer. Climbing on top of me. I can’t move.

“Could I get it wet with you first?”

I’m wide-eyed while I look at the size of the toy, a weapon that wasn’t meant for me. So I thought.

You smile. You don’t wait for my answer when you start rubbing it against my slit. I let out uncontrollable noises. I’m ridiculously wet.

“Don’t you want to know how she’s going to feel?”

I’m panicking but my eyes roll back. This too wasn’t planned. You still want to keep me on my toes.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you like I’ll hurt her.”

I could cum from that alone. The words make her restless, but you stare her cold and she settles. I nod, I can hear myself begging. Yes, please. Still, I’m tensing in fear as you press the tip of the toy against my entrance.

“Breathe out deep, baby.”

I let the air escape my lungs and my muscles let go.

“Again.”

You’ve got me. I’ll be okay.

“And again.”

Each time you push half an inch more. Over and over. Stretching me with patience. I can tell you want to thrust your hips against mine. You’re holding back so much, and I know I’m safe. I know you’re going to take it out on her in a moment, and it makes me clench around the toy halfway inside me, making it harder for you to keep pushing.

“Breathe out.”

When it’s nearly as far as I can take, you tell me to keep breathing. You stay still, leaning forward to kiss me. I can feel the fire that’s taking over you. Our few seconds of privacy accompanied by her troubled noises. Her wordless pleas.

We smile against each other’s lips.

You rock gently inside me a couple times. It’s too much, but I love it. I moan harder as you pull out exhale by exhale. I catch the rhythm, breathing deep without you needing to remind me.

I’m getting impatient. I know you are too. I want it inside her instead.

I decide to get behind her, having her head on my chest, her back against my stomach, leaning back to a pile of pillows. I love to see I’m surprising you as much as myself.

She’s held her pose all this time, her thighs wide open. Still, you press them further apart, as if to tell her she’s not doing good enough. It’s unfair. It’s what she deserves.

I stroke my fingers against her cheeks, wiping away the streams of tears still flowing. She shakes her head, but she’s given up trying to talk. I move my hand to unbuckle her gag, asking permission with my eyes. You nod. She coughs, but still doesn’t dare to talk.

I have her tied up hands, clenched in fists, pressed between my legs. I subtly rub against them while you get ready, lining yourself up with her hips, taking position.

It takes maybe three full thrusts to force your way into her. The way she cries is like music. She squirms and arches, wordless and irresolute.

You’re violent. Not a cell in you holding back. I comfort her, though it’s nothing but mockery.

I wonder if it hurts more like that.

My throat feels tight, there’s a heavy feeling in my stomach. I fear for her but I love it too. I’m getting wetter, and so is she. She sounds like an angel. You sound like you hate her.

I touch her all over. You keep going. I grind against her hands. I’m not sure I should. Do you notice?

I remind myself that she’s here for me.

I try hiding my shock when she starts moving her fingers. Barely, struggling to angle her wrists right, but clearly trying. I’m doing everything I can to hold back reactions. What is this for? I’m confused but I let it happen. Does she think she’s going to win me over like this? Appeal to my empathy?

How pitiful, I think. This stupid slut. I hope you break her.

You reposition just slightly, and she goes abruptly silent for a few seconds. Her hands retract into fists. You smile devilishly, taking a knowing glance at me, and keep pounding. She can’t help but moan. It’s still too much, her face twisting every thrust. But there’s no helping the deep sounds that shake her body, swirling in the back of her mouth before struggling out.

You’re gonna break her, I say, with faux concern.

“I might.”

You barely get the words out between your labored breaths. You seem truly dedicated to make it hurt. To go as hard as you can. I can tell you’re enjoying it too. It’s hard to say which keeps you going harder, your pleasure or her agony.

While she’s getting her soul fucked out of her body and you’re losing yourself to the rhythm of your hips ramming against hers, I feel like I’m the only one who’s still in control of herself. I feel powerful yet small. You must think you’re giving me a reward with all of this. She might think I’m below you. But you’re doing this for me, aren’t you? Haven’t I made this all happen?

She’s gasping for air. I’ve been groping her, the skin of her breasts is hot, my nails have left marks on her skin. I reach one of my hands between her legs. She’s swollen.

She squeals. I’m barely touching yet she’s tearing up. It must be so much for her.

You like the sight. The way it gets you going makes me press harder. I know it hurts. If I didn’t love the reactions, yours and hers both, I would pity her and stop.

I press my lips against her ear. Look how she’s pushing into you, I tell her. Don’t take your eyes off of it. Look at what she’s doing to you. Look what we’re doing to you. My whispered words and moans indistinguishable.

I don’t know how long it’s been for her in this room. It’s impressive how long she’s lasted. She must be fighting the pressure building in her so hard. How wrong it would be to cum.

You’re not going to be able to help it. Resist all you want. Give her a reason to get rougher. We don’t care how long it takes. Take your time.

I feign patience, but I’m desperate to feel her squirm against me, tense and twist as she cums. I rub her faster, cuing you to give your worst.

She’s shaking, broken gasps escaping her throat.

I keep rubbing her while squeezing my other arm around her body tighter and tighter. She’s shaking her head, you push down on her thighs as she starts kicking her feet.

I hear myself exclaim as you place a hand around her neck.

The sound of her finally tipping over the edge. The sight of your eyes dark with pleasurable anger. The feeling of her skin moving feverishly against mine. The lingering taste of her. The ache left in me by the toy. The rush of joy and the hint of guilt. The wonder of loving both.

I can’t help but moan with her.

She’s so spent. Can’t keep her eyes open. You yank out the toy and a flash of pain visits her face, only to shut her eyes again. Still whimpering and sniffling,

“What a lovely little thing I got you! So easy to fuck into pieces. Look at her, baby. Isn’t she beautiful like that?”

You notice the worry on my eyes and take my hand.

“I’ll take care of everything. She’ll be alright. You don’t need to care right now.”

You don’t need to say it twice. Your reassurance is enough to make me shift my focus on myself. How my body feels like a million burning sparks. How I’m still savoring the sounds of the past minutes in my mind. Her limp body still resting on my chest. You help her down, her head onto a pillow. Facing us. Tied up still and her thighs sticky.