FERNOW

"shh," he breathes against your ear. "just relax, honey."

you should tell him to stop. should push him away. but your hips are already pressing back against him, greedy and desperate, and he laughs low in his throat.

"that's what i thought."

he pushes inside you in one smooth thrust, and you gasp, fingers twisting in the sheets. your stuffed animals are scattered around you—a rabbit, a bear, a little cat you've had since you were twelve. your hand finds the rabbit, grips it like a lifeline.

"so tight," he murmurs, pulling out slow before slamming back in. "so fucking good for me."

his arm tightens around your throat. the pressure builds—his bicep pressing against your windpipe, thick and unyielding. your pulse pounds in your ears, a drumbeat that matches the rhythm of his hips.

your vision blurs at the edges. your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out.

"that's it," he says, voice rough. "feel that? feel how deep i am?"

you nod, or try to, but you can't move much with his arm locked around your neck. all you can do is take it. take him.

he fucks you harder, deeper, and the pressure increases. the world narrows to a tunnel—his cock filling you, his arm choking you, the pounding in your skull.

you should be scared. you should be fighting for air.

instead, you moan.

it's a broken, desperate sound, barely audible over the wet slap of skin against skin. but he hears it.

"oh, you like that?" his pace quickens, his hips slamming against your ass. "you're squeezing me so fucking hard right now. you love when daddy chokes you, don't you?"

tears stream down your cheeks—not from pain, but from how good it feels. from how full you are. from how the lack of air makes everything sharper, brighter, more.

your stuffed rabbit is crushed against your chest. you just keep holding on tighter.

"say it," he demands, his arm loosening just enough to let you gasp in a breath. "say you like it."

"i like it," you choke out, all breathy and broken. "i like it, i like it, please—"

"good girl."

his arm tightens again, and you're gone. floating. weightless. your thoughts fragment—can't breathe can't think can't do anything but feel—

he drives deeper, and the pressure on your throat peaks. your body convulses, pleasure and oxygen-hunger colliding in a white-hot burst that tears through you.

you come with a sob, your cunt clenching around him, and he follows immediately after, hips stuttering as he fills you.

he holds you through it, his arm still around your throat, his breath hot against your ear.

when he finally lets go, you collapse onto the bed, gasping for air. your vision swims. your lungs burn.

your rabbit is still clutched in your hand.

he strokes your hair, all soft and gentle now, like he didn't just have you seeing stars. his fingers trace slow circles on your scalp while you tremble beneath him.

"such a good girl," he murmurs. "my perfect girl."

you don't say anything. you just lie there, breathing, feeling his hand in your hair, feeling the ache in your throat and the fullness between your legs.

you wonder how you ever lived without this.