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Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
itâs valentineâs day so that means you should fuck your favorite slut until sheâs crying and begging you to stop cumming in her because itâs too much but you donât because itâs your right to use her like a fleshlight
the urge to wake you up by forcefully filling you with my cock. biting your neck and holding you down while you shake and writhe tiredly. youâd make such a good parent. just take it, you donât need to be awake. just lay there and learn your place.
âYou trust me, right?â She looked up from her phone to meet her boyfriendâs earnest gaze, his eyes sparkling back at her innocently. They were curled up together on the couch, winding down from the day. A soft smile lit her face at his words and she didnât hesitate before answering.
âOf course I trust you, silly.â She set her phone down on the coffee table and tucked herself closer against him. âWhy are you asking? Should I be worried youâre plotting something behind my back?â She teased softly.
He laughed before pressing a quick kiss to her hair, âNot exactly. But I was thinking about trying something new.â
She tilted her head back to look at him, her eyes curious. âNew like⌠a new Thai place? Or new like you finally want to come to pilates with me?â
He made a face at her because smiling. âNew like⌠chemical enhancement⌠for couplesâ he said, a playful grin spreading across his face.
Her eyes narrowed with amused suspicion. âEnhancement. Thatâs a very corporate word for whatever weird sex thing youâre about to propose.â
âItâs not weird!â he protested, the picture of mock-offense. âItâs science. Aphrodisiacs. The good, modern kind. Safe, tested. Supposed to just⌠turn up the volume on everything.â
She snorted, pushing lightly at his chest. âYouâre insane. You canât honestly believe thatâs real? Where did you even get aphrodisaics?â
âA very discreet online retailer with excellent reviews,â he said, posturing with faux pride. âCome on, sweetheart. Itâll be fun. I promise youâll enjoy it.â
âYou promise, huh?â she teased, a flicker of real interest behind her skepticism. âBased on what? The five-star review from âHornyDaddy69â?â
âBased on me,â he said, his voice dropping, losing some of its banter and gaining a layer of warm, convincing sincerity. He cupped her cheek. âIâll take care of you. The whole time. Itâs just supposed to⌠heighten everything. Make everything feel more intense, better. You trust me, right?â
She searched his face. His eyes were clear, affectionate, fervent.
âI do trust you,â she said slowly. âIt just sounds⌠intense.â
âThatâs the point,â he coaxed, leaning in to brush a kiss against her temple. âAnd if you hate it, we stop. Immediately. I just want you to feel good. With me⌠I want to make you feel good.â
The combination of his teasing proposition, his sudden seriousness, and his sincerity made her smile. She felt a thrill, a nervous flutter low in her belly. What was the harm, really? With him?
âOkay,â she breathed, the word barely a whisper. âOkay, you weirdo. But if I hate it, itâs on you and you have to go to pilates with me.â
His grin was brilliant, triumphant. âDeal.â He kissed her, slow and deep, a seal on the promise. âYouâre gonna love it.â
He got up and went to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water. One was perfectly clear. The other had a faint, almost imperceptible cloudiness to it. He handed the cloudy one to her.
âBottoms up. Takes about twenty minutes, they say.â
She took the glass, hesitated for only a second, and drank it down. He watched her, his expression unreadable for a moment before the easy smile returned. He took her empty glass, set both aside, and pulled her into his lap, her back against his chest, his arms wrapping around her middle.
âJust relax,â he murmured into her hair. âLet it happen.â
For the first fifteen minutes, it was normal. They talked about their days, his hands stroking her arms, her stomach. Then, a warmth began to bloom in her core. Not the slow burn of arousal, but a sudden, invasive heat, like a furnace had been lit between her hips. She shifted in his lap.
âStarting?â he asked, his voice knowing.
âI⌠yeah. Itâs really warm.â
The warmth became a throbbing. She felt dampness seep into her underwear, an embarrassing, immediate gush. Her nipples tightened painfully against the fabric of her shirt.
Another few minutes. She wriggled again, a restless little movement. Her breathing hitched slightly. âBabe...â
âYeah, sweetheart?â
âI feel⌠weird. Tingly.â Her voice had lost its playful edge, replaced by a soft, wondering confusion.
âThatâs it working,â he murmured, tightening his arms just a fraction. âJust let it happen. Iâve got you.â
The tingling became a buzz, the buzz became a thrum. Her body grew pliant and heavy against him, then tense with a new, gathering awareness. A small, breathy sound escaped her lips. She pressed back against him, his solid warmth making her dizzy with want.
âOh god,â she whispered, her head lolling back against his shoulder. Her skin was flushed, dewy with a light sweat. âBabe⌠itâs⌠I feel soâŚâ
âI know,â he soothed, but the tone was changing, hardening at the edges. The caring boyfriend was receding, replaced by something else watching from behind his eyes. âFeel how hot you are? How bad you want it?â
She nodded frantically, her hands coming up to clutch at his forearms. Her hips made an involuntary, desperate little circle against him. âPlease⌠touch meâŚâ
âI am touching you, baby,â he said calmly, his hands still anchored on her stomach, holding her firmly in place.
âNo, please,â she begged, her voice cracking. One of her hands slid down, fumbling for the waistband of her panties. A raw, needy sound was building in her throat.
His hand shot down and caught her wrist in an iron grip, pulling it away. âAh-ah. Not yet.â
She whimpered, a sound of pure, frustrated agony. Her whole body was trembling, strung tight as a wire. âPlease babe, I need⌠I canât⌠please, just let meâŚâ
âLet you what?â he asked, his voice dropping into a cruel, amused drawl. The mask was off now. âLet you rub your little pussy like a desperate slut? Already?â
She froze, the words slicing through the drugged haze. âW-what?â
He laughed, a low, mean sound that vibrated through her. âLook at you. One little drop of some drug and youâre falling apart. Begging and whining.â
Tears of confusion and overwhelming need sprang to her eyes. âYou promised⌠you said youâd take care of meâŚâ
âAnd I am,â he said, his free hand sliding down from her stomach, over the soft cotton of her shirt, to cup her between her legs. He didnât press, just held his hand there, a maddening, static pressure and an all-encompassing warmth. She cried out, bucking against it, but his other arm was a steel band across her ribs, holding her utterly still.
âSo wet for me already,â he mocked, his lips against her ear. âI can feel it soaking through your panties. Your pretty little cunt must be so swollen, throbbing. Is your clit hard, baby? Is it aching?â
She couldnât form words, just whimpered, her body arching and straining against his immovable hold. The need was a physical pain, a white-hot coil in her belly.
âPathetic,â he whispered, the word a venomous caress. âMy smart, sweet girlfriend, turned into a dumb, dripping whore by a bit of a drug. Youâd let me do anything right now, wouldnât you? Youâd say yes to anything.â
He traced a single, slow finger along the fabric of her panties, over the aching, swollen flesh beneath, never dipping beneath the fabric. She whined, a ragged, broken sound.
âPlease! Please, just fuck me, touch me, anything!â
He shifted her, pulling her back so he could see her face. Her lips were parted, her pupils blown wide with lust and despair. He smiled, a predator admiring his trapped prey. âGod, you beg so prettily. Itâs the best part. Watching my perfect, composed girlfriend reduced to this. To a begging, writhing thing. Itâs all for me, isnât it?â
She nodded frantically, beyond pride, consumed by the fire heâd lit. âYes! Yours, all yours. Please, Iâll do anything.â
âI know you will.â He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. âIâm going to make it better. I promise. Iâm going to touch your perfect little pussy. Iâm going to play with that swollen clit until you scream for me. Would you like that?â
A sob of relief and anticipation broke from her. âYes! Oh, God, yes, please!â
âSuch a good girl,â he purred, shifting her again. He reached over to the coffee table next to the couch and picked up a small jar.
He smirked at her. âI forgot to mention, the aphrodisiac wasnât the only thing I got for you.â
He unscrewed the lid. Inside was a cream, white and innocuous. âThis is part two. Itâll cool the burn, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.â
He dipped two fingers into the cream. With agonizing slowness, he brought his hand between her legs. She gasped, her entire body arching, offering herself up to him. He smiled, a cruel, satisfied curve of his mouth.
He didnât go straight for her clit. He painted the cream over her inner thighs first, the cool sensation a sharp contrast to the heat of her skin, making her jerk and whimper. He slid her panties down her legs, the whisper of air against her swollen, needy pussy making her shudder.
"Look at this," he murmured, his voice a hushed, intimate thing that felt like a violation all its own. With his cream-coated hand, he gently parted her folds, holding her open for an inspection she couldn't escape. "So swollen. So soft and pretty. My perfect little pussy, all puffed up and begging. And so, so wet." He dragged his thumb through the slickness, gathering it, then held his glistening finger up to the dim light. "See that? That's all for me. Your body knows its purpose."
He took his time, coating her folds, spreading her open with a clinical precision that was its own form of torment.
âThere we go,â he murmured, his voice a dark hymn. âMy toy. All laid out for me. So wet for me already, and Iâve barely touched you. Disgusting. Perfect.â
Finally, he circled her clit with a cream-slicked thumb. The direct contact was electric, a jolt of pure, sharp pleasure that made her cry out. Her hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more, but he held her down, his arm a vice.
âAh-ah-ah,â he chided, his thumb moving in slow, maddening circles. âI decide the pace. You just take what I give you. This is all youâre good for, isnât it? Being my pretty, desperate hole?â
He pushed one finger, then two, inside her. The cream felt strange, cool and slick, but the stretch, the fullness, combined with the relentless circles on her clit, was pushing her to the brink. The coil in her abdomen tightened to a breaking point. Pleasure, white-hot and blinding, began to crest.
âThank you, thank you, please, Iâm so close, please!â she babbled, tears streaming down her face, her body trembling violently in his unyielding embrace.
He saw the exact moment she began to tip over the edge, her muscles clenching around his fingers, a broken sob on her lips.
And he stopped.
He withdrew his fingers completely and removed his thumb from her clit.
The sudden, absolute absence of stimulation was a physical shock, a plunge into an icy void. The orgasm that had been seconds away shattered, leaving behind a raw, agonizing ache that was a thousand times worse than the initial need. She screamed, a sound of pure, animalistic anguish, her body convulsing with the denied release.
He held her through it, his arms a cage of mock comfort. He shushed her gently, rocking her as she sobbed, shattered and empty.
The scream died in her throat, dissolving into ragged, hiccuping sobs. The denial of her climax left her hollowed out, a vessel filled only with a phantom echo of pleasure and the relentless, chemical fire of the aphrodisiac. Her nerves were still screaming, a chorus of desperate need, but the epicenter of that need⌠was going quiet.
âPoor thing,â he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with a vile, possessive satisfaction. âDid you really think it would be that easy? That Iâd let my worthless little slut cum just because she asked nicely?â He kissed her temple, a parody of tenderness. âThe cream wasnât to help you, darling. It was to numb you. The fun is only just beginning.â
His fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements. He watched her face, his own a mask of feigned concern. âWhatâs wrong, sweetheart? Iâm touching you. Isnât this what you wanted? You begged so sweetly for my fingers inside you.â He curled them, a deliberate, obscene motion that she could see but could no longer properly feel. The sensation was distant, muffled, as if through layers of thick wool. The cool numbness of the cream was spreading, a chilling tide extinguishing the specific, acute feedback from her clit and the walls of her cunt.
âI⌠I canâtâŚâ she whimpered, her voice a broken thing. Her hips made a feeble, automatic jerk, but the connection was severed. The command from her mind met only a void where sensation should be.
âYou canât feel it?â He asked, his tone one of mock surprise. He brought his hand up, slick with the numbing cream and her own arousal, and held it before her face. âLook. Look how wet you are for me. Listen.â He moved his fingers inside her again, and the lewd, slick sound of it filled the quiet space between themâa wet, rhythmic shlick, shlick, shlick that was a brutal parody of the pleasure it should have represented. âHear that? Thatâs your body, your greedy little pussy, thanking me. And youâre just lying there.â
He increased his pace, his fingers pistoning in and out with a harsh, clinical rhythm. She watched, mesmerized and horrified. She saw the muscles in his forearm flex. She saw the glistening evidence of her own desperate arousal on his skin. The aphrodisiac, undeterred by the local anesthetic, roared in response to the visual and auditory stimulus, a fire with no outlet. Her body burned, her skin was hypersensitive everywhere except where she needed it most. It was a special kind of hell, a cage of unfeeling flesh built around a core of frantic need.
Tears streamed down her face, hot and silent. âPlease, babe, stop⌠it doesnât⌠I canât feel itâŚâ
âStop?â He let out a low, cruel laugh, his fingers never ceasing their mechanical motion. âYouâre unbelievable. First, you beg me to touch you. I give you exactly what you asked for. Iâm here, holding you, working my fingers into you, giving you what every slut like you dreams of, my full attention. And now you want me to stop?â He shook his head in faux disappointment, his grip on her waist tightening. âYouâre so ungrateful. My spoiled, useless toy.â
He leaned close, his breath hot against her ear as his hand continued its vulgar work below. âThis is what you are, sweetheart. A thing to be used. A pretty, crying thing that I can play with however I like. And right now, I like watching you try to feel something youâre not allowed to. Your pleasure is mine, sweetheart. And Iâm the only one who can control it.â
Her begging took on a new, frantic quality. It wasnât for release anymore; it was for sensation, for connection, for the torture to make sense. âPlease, I need to feel it, make me feel it, just let me feel something, anything, Iâll be good, Iâll be so good!â
He laughed again, the sound bright and cheerful against the backdrop of her misery. âBut I am making you feel it,â he insisted, his voice dripping with malicious glee. âIâm right here. Doing all the work. Youâre so lucky. Any other woman would kill to be in your place, held by me, filled by me. And youâre just⌠crying. What a worthless little bitch you are.â
He slowed his fingers to a maddening, shallow tease, his thumb pressing against the completely numb nub of her clit. âSee? Right there. Thatâs the spot, isnât it? The one that makes you scream. Iâm touching it. Iâm giving you everything you ever wanted.â He kissed her tear-streaked cheek, a cruel mockery of affection.
He held her there, in that exquisite, impossible limbo, visually and audibly being fucked by his hand, her body screaming with a need it could no longer physically articulate.
The aphrodisiac was a tyrant in her blood. It had no regard for the numbness. It flooded her system, a relentless, rising tide of pure, undirected want. It made her skin feel two sizes too small, hypersensitive to the brush of her shirt, to the cool air on her legs, to the hard muscle of his thighs beneath her. Every nerve ending was a live wire, sparking with frantic, desperate energy, all of it converging on a central point that was a void, a black hole of sensation.
She was drowning in need with no way to breathe.
He shifted his fingers inside her, the sound obscenely loud in her ears. She could feel the pressure, the stretch, a vague, distant thing like a memory of touch, but none of the exquisite friction, none of the building heat. It was a hollow invasion. Her body, governed by the drug, clenched around him involuntarily, a futile attempt to coax sensation from the act.
He chuckled, low and dark. "Even numb, it tries to milk me. So greedy. So pathetic." He increased the pace of his fingers, the wet sounds becoming a rapid, rhythmic slap. "This is what you are now. A wet, noisy hole. A toy that makes the right sounds but doesn't get to enjoy the game. The aphrodisiac is going to keep ruining you from the inside out, and this sweet little cunt of mine is just going to sit here, swollen and dripping and useless."
He held her close, his chin resting on her head, as he worked her over with a relentless, mechanical rhythm.
She could only cry, her body a prison of unrelenting, paradoxical torture: a wildfire of need with a core of nothing, a scream with no voice, a climax forever hanging just beyond the edge of a feeling she could no longer access. She was utterly, completely helpless, and he savored every shuddering, silent sob, every tear that fell onto his arm.
"But," he said, his voice a silken, cruel promise, "I'm not completely heartless. I'll give you a chance to come."
A pathetic spark of hope flickered in her chest. She turned her head, her eyes pleading.
He leaned close, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "I'm going to fuck your ass."
The hope died, strangled by a cold wave of dread. "No," she whispered, the word a dry crack. "Wait, no, please. You know I don't... I hate it. It hurts. Please, not that. Anything but that."
He chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. "You hate it? Right now, you don't get a choice. And you don't get to be a prissy little princess about it, not when you promised me anything just minutes ago." He mocked her. "Look at the state of you. You're a dripping, mindless set of holes. This one," he gave her pussy a dismissive slap, one that she couldnât even pretend to feel, "is broken. Numb. Useless. So we'll use the other one. The tight, reluctant one. The one you're so selfish with."
"Please," she begged again, but it was weak, the protest of a creature already broken. The aphrodisiac still thrummed in her veins, twisting her revulsion, mixing it with the relentless, chemical need. Her body, traitorously, was already clenching in anticipation she didn't want to feel.
âLook at you,â he scoffed, one hand trailing down to her ass. âDripping from your useless pussy all over yourself. Youâve made such a mess. We donât even need lube. Your own cunt juices have slicked the way. Your body knows what it needs, even if your mouth is still saying no.â
He pressed a finger against her ass. She flinched, a sob catching in her throat. "Tsk, so tense. So ungrateful. After everything I'm doing for you." He pushed the finger in, slowly, and she cried out, a sound of pain and shocking, unwanted fullness.
"Shut up," he said mildly, working the finger in and out. "You wanted to feel something. Now you will."
He added a second finger, stretching her, the burn sharp and clear through the numbness that enveloped her lower half. He scissored them, and a choked gasp was torn from her. It hurt. But underneath the hurt, buried deep in her drug-frayed nerves, something else stirred. A deep, resonant pressure that echoed the empty ache in her core.
"Ready?" he asked, not waiting for an answer.
He positioned himself, the blunt, broad head of his cock replacing his fingers. He didn't ease in. He pulled her hips back and pushed forward, a single, relentless invasion that stole the breath from her lungs.
She screamed. It was a raw, ragged sound of violation. The stretch was immense, burning, a feeling of being split open. She scrabbled at his arms, her nails digging in, but he held her immobile, buried to the hilt inside her.
"Fuck," he groaned, his composure slipping for a second into pure, carnal satisfaction. "So fucking tight. Even like this. Clenching on me like you hate it." He began to move.
He thrusted and the burn was acute, wrong. She tried to pull away, but his hands on her hips were anchors. âStop fighting it,â he commanded, his voice dropping, losing its mocking edge for one of dark, absolute authority. âThis is what you are now. This is what you get. Take it, and if youâre a good girl, if you let me fuck this tight little ass properly, Iâll let you come. Iâll give you what you need.â
The promise, demented and horrifying, was also a lifeline in the sea of her torment. The need, the chemical fire still raging in her veins, latched onto it. Her body, betraying her utterly, began to relax incrementally, accepting the impossible fullness.
âThatâs it,â he purred, sinking deeper with a low groan. âThere you go. See? Your body loves it. Itâs accepting its purpose.â
He began to move, a slow, deep, punishing rhythm. Each withdrawal was a tease, each thrust a claim. The initial pain blurred, transmuted by the drug and her own desperate psyche into a different kind of intensity. It was overwhelming, all-consuming. The numbness between her legs became a void that made the fierce, stretching fullness in her ass the sole point of existence. Every nerve ending there, unused and shocked, was now screaming, not in pain, but in a perverse, electrified sensitivity.
âYou feel that?â he grunted, picking up the pace slightly. His hands dug into the soft flesh of her hips. âYou feel how deep I am? This is where you belong. This is what youâre for. A dumb, drugged-up anal whore.â
His words washed over her. She was mewling now, pushing back against him, chasing the sensation that was building in a place it had no right to build. A coil was tightening low in her belly, unfamiliar and terrifying.
âIâm⌠Iâm gonnaâŚâ she babbled, the warning a confused sob.
âYouâre gonna what?â he demanded, hammering into her now, his rhythm losing its cruel leisure, becoming punishing and urgent. âYouâre gonna cum? From this? From getting your ass fucked like the cheap slut you are? Do it. Cum all over my cock, you filthy anal whore. Show me how much your broken body loves it.â
The coil snapped.
It was not a gentle cresting wave, but a violent, seismic rupture. A guttural scream was torn from her throat as her body convulsed, clamping down viciously around his invading length. A hot gush of fluid, from her numbed cunt, splashed over both of them, a humiliating testament to her bodyâs ultimate betrayal.
âYouâre squirting?â he roared, slamming into her through the pulsating contractions, his own control shattering. âYouâre fucking squirting all over the floor from getting your ass fucked? Youâre nothing more than a broken little anal slut.â
His final, brutal thrusts pushed her over the edge into a darkness that blanketed her, her body and mind shutting down against the overwhelming sensations.
â
Consciousness returned to her in soft, gentle waves. The first thing she was aware of was warmth. A deep, encompassing warmth that had nothing to do with the chemical fire that had consumed her before. It was the warmth of clean, soft sheets, and the solid, familiar heat of his body curled around her.
She was on her side, nestled against his chest, his arm a heavy, comforting weight around her waist. She could feel the steady, slow rhythm of his breath against her hair. The frantic, screaming need was gone, replaced with a quiet hum of satisfaction deep in her muscles and bones.
She stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping her.
âHey,â his voice was a whisper, his tone tender and worlds away from the cruel puppeteer from before. âWelcome back.â
She tilted her head back. The harsh, mocking glint was gone from his eyes. In the dim light from the hallway, she saw only concern, affection, and a soft, sleepy warmth. He brushed a strand of hair from her damp forehead.
âHow do you feel?â he asked, his thumb stroking her cheek.
âMmm,â she managed, her voice hoarse. âFloaty. Sore. Good.â She nuzzled into his touch. âYou cleaned me up.â
âOf course I did,â he murmured, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. âGot you some water, too. Here.â
He reached over to the nightstand, bringing a cool glass to her lips. She drank gratefully, the water soothing her raw throat. When she was done, he set the glass aside and gathered her back into his arms, pulling the blanket up higher around her shoulders.
He pressed a soft kiss to her, whispering against her lips. âYou did so well, my perfect girl.â
She smiled against his mouth. âYour messy girl. I think I⌠made a mess.â
He chuckled, the sound warm and rich in his chest. âA spectacular mess. A record-breaking mess. I was very impressed.â His teasing was back, but it was the familiar, affectionate banter she loved, edged now with awe and pride. âYou totally passed out. Just⌠gone. Lights out. I had to carry you in here.â
She groaned, burying her face in his neck. âOh, god. Iâm sorry.â
âDonât you dare apologize,â he said. âIt was the hottest thing Iâve ever seen. And then you were all soft and sleepy and passed out. Very cute.â
He kissed her again and pulled her closer, fitting her perfectly against him. âSleep now. Iâve got you.â
And as she drifted off, wrapped in the profound safety of his arms, lulled by the steady beat of his heart.
Imagine he has you in a spreader bar with wrist and ankle cuffs. Youâre folded in half, legs high up in the air, immobilized, spread in a way that makes your pussy the center of attention. And he gives it so much attention. He rubs your pussy softly, lulling you into a false sense of security from his gentle touches, tracing your folds, parting them to show off your pretty clit. Youâre wet, just for him. And heâs so good to you, so gentle, leaning down to kiss your pretty pussy, using his tongue to make little patterns against your sensitive skin, making you arch up against him and moan. Heâs being so nice to you, making you feel so good. And then everything changes.
His fingers pinch your clit, hard. You gasp, eyes wide, pain shooting through your body. You jerk helplessly, wanting to move away from the assault. But thereâs nowhere to go. He holds you open, spreading your cunt lips to show off that swollen, aching clit. Two hard flicks in a row make you wail and beg him to stop. He doesnât listen. A skilled touch pulls your clit hood back, revealing more of your tender flesh than should be possible. More real estate for him to work with. You donât even know where he got the vibrator from, but suddenly itâs on you. The highest setting, pressed with the lightest touch against your exposed clit. You donât even have enough air left in your lungs to scream. The high-powered vibrations lightly meeting your clit is torture, worse than if he were to push the toy hard against your flesh because this is concentrated, specific, targeted. The barest connection point holding all of the sensation. You arenât even aware that youâre wailing. Desperate, animal noises. Worthless struggles against his weight and hold. Tears streaming down your face. Your cunt dripping onto the bed. Finally, finally, he turns off the vibrator. Pulls it away from you. But heâs not done. Because what comes next is so much worse.
A tiny, metal clamp. Angry jagged teeth and an adjustable screw that makes the tension bespoke. Whispered objections leave your lips desperately, but he doesnât care. His fingers come back to pull back your clit hood, your eyes widening in sheer terror when you realize his intentions. Thereâs nothing to buffer against the cruel, cold metal as it crushes your throbbing, swollen clit in between its jaws. The scream that leaves you is earth-shattering. He laughs and gives the clamp a hard flick. It sends shockwaves through your body. Then he attaches a wire to the clamp, connecting it to an electrical box, and ice-cold understanding shoots through your body. Youâre not going to survive this.
He turns the dial on the box, and your clit jumps in response to the current. Itâs pain, itâs torture, itâs pure, unadulterated sensation that drills deep into your nerves and holds you hostage. He turns the dial more. Your body breaks. Itâs not an orgasm; itâs a forced eruption. A gush of fluid explodes out of you, coupled by the worst sound youâve ever heard. Itâs you. Itâs inhuman, incomprehensible. It doesnât stop. The current keeps coming, your body keeps breaking, and finally, your mind does too.
Note: I haven't written anything short in a while and clearly it shows because wtf is this... (I'm kidding, I love this)... And I promise he gives the best aftercare when it's over đŤś
Imagine his voice whispering in your ear while he's fucking you hard enough to shake the bed.
âThat's it, you're doing such a good job, taking me so well, being such a good girl for me. Look at you, so perfect, so pretty."
You're whining, moaning, whimpering desperately as every thrust overwhelms your senses. He's cooing at you, so sweet but so mean.
âThere it is, I know just where you need it, donât I? My sweet responsive girl. You canât hide a thing from me, not a single slutty sound. Let me hear you. Every pretty little sound is mine."
Then, he pulls away just to be mean, drawing a plaintive whine from you. The dark satisfied arrogance is clear as day in his voice.
âSo greedy. My greedy little girl. Canât even wait a second, can you?â
He sinks back into you slowly, torturously, and you're crying, a broken, beautiful sound.
âThere. See? Daddy gives you what you need.â
You're pulsing around him, pussy dripping around his cock.
âYou feel that? You feel how deep I am? How full you are? Thatâs all me. Iâm the only thing in that pretty little head of yours right now, arenât I?â
And when he finally lets you cum, it's a bone-deep surge of pleasure, your brain scrambling to make sense of it all.
âThatâs right. Mine. This tight, perfect cunt is mine. You come for me. You come on my cock, and you thank me for it. Do you understand?â
You're babbling nonsense, not a single thought left in your head. There's only him, overtaking every thought, every sense, every cell.
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Hi there !! I love your writing and If youâre still asking for prompts I think a pretty girl having her pussy stretched open would be hot <3
Oooooh yes yes yes... Please someone do this to me...
âCome on baby, can you take one more?â
His low, coaxing voice was answered with a whimpery moan. He had three fingers buried in her, working them slowly, scissoring and curling, the slick, wet sounds obscene in the room.
âShh, just relax for me, Iâve got you,â he soothed, his free hand coming down to circle her swollen clit with a practiced, relentless rhythm. A high, thin whine escaped her lips as her hips jerked, the movement pressing his fingers deeper into her.
âNgh, please, please, itâs too much⌠I canâtâŚâ her voice was shaking, eyes already glossy with tears of overwhelming sensation. He shushed her softly before pressing a kiss to her damp forehead.
âYou can, honey, you can take more. I promise, just relax,â he murmured, the rubbing on her clit becoming more targeted, drawing sharp pulses of pleasure from her overstimulated body. A moan escaped her lips as her body surrendered, melting under his touch, the tension bleeding away into a boneless, pliant obedience.
He took advantage of the moment, beginning to push his last finger and thumb into her. It was a gradual, consuming stretch, a filling so complete it stole the air from her lungs. With one final, gentle stretch, his entire hand was sheathed inside her, a profound, impossible fullness that made her vision blur. She went limp, a shuddering sigh of pure, overwhelmed pleasure wracking her frame.
âThere you go, fuck, sweetheart, doing so good for me. Look at that pretty pussy spread wide for me.â His voice is thick with arousal and he began to move his hand in slow, shallow thrusts, the stretch becoming a deep, internal massage. âTaking my whole hand like you were made for it. Look at this greedy little hole, so messy for me.â
Her response was a broken little sob, her mouth slack from pleasure. He began to move his hand in earnest, pressing in and out of her cunt, the rhythmic sound of her pussy sucking him in filling the air.
âYouâre dripping everywhere,â he observed, his tone a mix of awe and condescension. âSuch a messy, hungry slut for this. Canât get enough, can you?â
Her folds were puffy and engorged, a slick, weeping mess against his wrist. He crooked his fingers gently inside her and she shuddered, her eyes rolling back.
Then, he gently pulled his hand out, his exit bringing a humiliating splash of her own slick. Her cunt, stretched and sensitized, dripped onto the sheets below, aching and empty, clenching around nothing and she let out a soft, forlorn whine. He let out a low chuckle, âOh no, pretty girl, donât be sad, I promise Iâll fill you up again.â
He kept his promise as he positioned himself, the broad, flushed head of his cock nudging against her entrance. With one smooth, powerful thrust, he sheathed himself to the hilt. She cried out, the familiar, beloved stretch of him now feeling different, easier, deeper, her body molded to him instantly from the previous preparation.
He fucked her in a slow, deep, devastating rhythm. The wet, obscene sounds filled the room. She was unraveling, her mind blanking under the relentless assault on her senses. She was just a hole, filled to the brim with him.
His voice broke through her haze. âLetâs see if we can make you even fuller, yeah?â
Suddenly, the broad, rounded tip of a dildo pressed against her already-stretched entrance, meeting the resistance of his own cock inside her. Her eyes flew open, wide with a fresh wave of overwhelmed panic. âNo, no, no, thereâs no room, you canâtââ
âI can,â he said simply, and began to press.
Pleasure, sharp and electric, lanced through her, mixed with the intense, almost-too-much sensation of the stretch. She babbled, nonsense words and pleas, her hips making tiny, involuntary jerks.
âI canâtâplease, itâs too muchâI cantââ
âBreathe, baby,â he commanded, his voice softening into that loving gentleness. âJust breathe and let it in. One more time. For me.â
With a steady, relentless pressure, he pushed the dildo into her, nestled inside of her cunt alongside his own cock.
The double penetration was a revelation of pure, mind-breaking sensation. The stretch was beyond anything she had ever felt, a fullness that bordered on pain, a pleasure so intense it was incomprehensible. Her body convulsed around the two invading lengths, milking both cocks desperately.
He groaned, a sound of pure triumph, and began to fuck her in earnest, his cock and the dildo moving in tandem, a synchronized assault on her senses. She was gone, lost in a haze of sensation. She was babbling, words tumbling out without thought, âyours,â âplease,â âtoo much,â âdonât stop,â âlove you.â
His voice was her only anchor in the storm. âThatâs it⌠take it all⌠my perfect, filthy girl⌠so good for me⌠look at you, so cock-drunk you canât even think⌠you belong to me, every part of youâŚâ
Her babbling dissolved into pure, animal whimpers, her body convulsing around the massive intrusion in a series of endless, rolling peaks that blurred the line between pleasure and agony.
âThere we go,â He panted, his own control fraying. His voice was a mix of awe and cruel delight. âLook at you. Taking it all. My beautiful, ruined thing. Youâre so full of me. Can you even think? Or is it just cock and pleasure in that pretty little head now?â
He leaned down, capturing her sobbing mouth in a searing, possessive kiss. âCum for me,â he whispered against her lips, a command and a plea. âCome around me and this dildo. Let me feel you lose it completely, give it to me.â
With a wail, she shattered around him. Her cunt clamped down in violent, fluttering spasms around the double penetration, milking his cock and the toy with a fierce, rhythmic pulse.
The intense, constricting pressure around him dragged him over right after. With a guttural groan, he buried himself as deep as he could go and emptied himself inside her, his release hot and endless, mixing with her own fluids in the impossibly tight space.
He collapsed atop her, both of them breathing in ragged, shattered gasps. After a moment, he carefully, gently, withdrew the dildo and then himself. Another rush of fluid followed, the messy, intimate evidence of what heâd just put her through.
He gathered her limp, trembling form against his chest, pressing soft kisses to her hair, her temple, her swollen lips.
âYou did so well for me, so perfect, so good. I have you. Iâve got you, just relax, baby.â
Smoking a joint in someone's lap and they keep blowing more smoke into your mouth.
You and your friend do this often, share a joint and ignore the needy touches, noises and pet names you'd make for each other, simply watching cartoons and eating snacks.
But this time you were sat in their lap, and you're softly, unashamedly grinding into them.
Your head feels fuzzy and you need someone to look after you,
"can you do one more for me pup."
You nod biting your lip softly.
"open." They command, and you watch as they take a large drag, holding it for second before holding your jaw and blowing the smoke into your mouth.
They place the joint in the ash tray, their free hand holding your jaw again,
"open."
Without hesitation you open your mouth, feeling their warm fingers press against your tongue... You're grinding harder in their lap, soaking through your underwear..
They watch you softly suck their fingers, never breaking your eye contact, and you giggle as they pull their fingers out of your mouth.
They drag their fingers down to the waistband of your trousers, their other hand picking the joint back up.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Desperately need to have someone pin me down and make me cum as many times as they want, however they want. Whenever I'm crying and begging them to stop and saying that I can't do it anymore, I need to be reminded that I'm not in control, and I'm simply a toy for their pleasure and entertainment.