#dom!dex

A million thoughts rushed through your mind, but you felt frozen in place. If only you’d gone out tonight. If only the neighbors hadn’t kept you up with their wailing. But the streets were quiet now, and you had left the living room window open on a crack for it was way too hot, and you were holding onto your plushie for dear life, and all you could think was it’s too late for you because you could hear footsteps coming toward your room. And pause. You stared with horror at the looming shadow from under your bedroom door. At the last moment, it pivoted and opened the bathroom instead. You let out a shaky breath.

As if this meant the universe had given you a chance, you grasped for your phone and dialed the emergency number, holding it to your ears as you silenced the volume buttons. You pried the now sticky sheets from your legs and willed them to move, using your empty hand to slide them from the bed. There was a closet in your room, just enough space for you to squeeze in and close the doors. Bare feet on linoleum, agonizing pace, you opened the door slightly and crawled into a corner. The space was filled with dust moats, you stifled a cough.

While you were in hiding, Dex was going through the bathroom cabinet; empty prescription bottles, half a packet of cotton swabs, a shampoo bottle two years past date… When he heard a thud in the room behind him. He froze. No one was supposed to be in here. He put down the bottle that was in his hand and fished a pair of scissors from the open drawers, clenching it by the butt with his fist. The light flickered and he could feel the hum of electricity reignite it with a pop. The sound came from the bedroom, it had to. It was the only room that he hadn’t ransacked. After a moment of deliberation, he held the scissors up high, ready to strike, and pushed the bedroom door open, revealing a dark room and an empty bed. A bed that had clearly been slept in just a few minutes ago. He scanned the messy room quickly. Dirty laundry everywhere and opened cup noodles on the counter, under the bed, behind the drawer, but the only real hiding place for a human was a closet taped full of pictures. Easy.

Dex yanked open the closet door just as a person on the other end of the phone answered with a “Hello, this is—” He ripped the phone from your clamped fingers and hung up. Sweat coated your temples from fright and you wanted to scream. But the sound was swallowed down and you produced nothing but a whine, cringing as it met the towering figure now pressed up to you. You looked the intruder right in the eye. He had a frightening stature, a gun strapped to his chest, and dirty blond hair. Empty eyes. Whatever fear you felt, it didn’t stir him. You opened your mouth to—

“Don’t. Scream.” You could smell the sweat on his palms, it was on your mouth instantly. The force of it pushed you to the back of your closet and a few coat hangers fell to the ground. The back of your head stung.

“If you scream,” he snapped, “You die.” You could feel your own heaving, hyperventilation starting, “Nod if you understand.” You oblige, desperately. He was so close to you that you could feel the heat coming off of him, suffocating you in this closet. Dex felt your heart pounding away rapidly, fluttering against his arms. Adrenaline flushed his blood for the first time since forever. He planned for this to be a simple burglary, not even people-watching. Just stealing silverware, some pills if he lucked out, but he didn’t count on someone being home. He eyed you, warm and meek under him. Cute face, it’d be a shame if— He started a grin from ear to ear. You suppressed a sob. In one smooth move, his hand grabbed your hair by the scalp and forced you out of the closet. Tears stung your eyes from the pain. You were now at the foot of your bed, slumped to your knees.

Dex now held the piece of rope in his hands that he used to climb into your window. His fingers held firmly onto it as he spun it around his palms, twice, and pulled it taut, watching as the skin beneath turned white. Your quick and shallow breaths were the only sound filling the room as you watched him unspin the rope and spin it again, and again, as if nervosity took over. You could have been sitting for hours, hypnotized by his methodical movements, right up until he walked over to you and grabbed your still trembling hands.

“Please let me go. I promise I won’t say anything. Please—” he proceeded to bind your wrists behind your back and tightened the knots, ignoring you entirely.

“Don’t worry,” he finished his handiwork and continued with the affect of a stern father, “Do as I say, and everything will be all okay. Got it?”

You nodded weakly. He came closer and it caused you to flinch but the bed frame stopped you, the cold railings on your back.

“I want to hear you,” Dex crouched down again, his eyes now level with you. And for the first time, you see into them; a deep dark brown. He takes your jaw firmly between his fingers.

He mouthed the words as you said them, “Yes sir,” Yes sir, he mocks, “I’ll do as you say.” He lets go of your jaw and pats you on the head.

“Good girl,” he muttered. The ghost of his fingertips still burning your skin. Your insides twitched at the remark. Dex stands up again, his hips now aligned with your eyes, and you look away uncomfortably as to not be staring directly at his crotch. You feel a slight breeze as he takes the knife from his hip holster. You start sobbing again. You can’t help but see the effect it has on him, a ravenous excitement flooding his veins. He has to hold himself back from not taking this too far. There you were before him on your pretty little knees, hands behind your back, doe-eyed and so, so helpless.

He pointed the knife down after a second of deliberation, lining it up with the soft cartilage of your ears, just close enough for it to tingle, and slid it down. Slowly, he moved it past your jaw, then your jugular, and you stilted your breathing for fear of it piercing your skin. But he was careful not to nick anything, working the blade over your collarbones and down to your chest, where he stopped for a second. A teardrop fell down from your chin and he caught it by flipping the blade, splattering the bubble over the reflective surface. Dex regarded it with intrigue, then he took the blade to his lips and licked it. Your eyes widened in shock.

“Mm,” Dex muttered. The sound he made was more of a low rumble, extracted from deep within. He was savoring this, “I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

You shuddered. He sensed the fear on your face and drank it in, each twitch and whimper. It produced a strain in his pants, a surging warmth. Patience. Before you could react, he brought the knife all the way from the collar down to the hem in one swift move, tearing the fabric from your body. The fresh breeze formed goosebumps on your skin and your nipples hardened. You could feel his leery eyes on them. Your shirt fell in a clump onto the ground. You were completely exposed now. Dex took a beat to stare, licking his lips as his eyes glided shamelessly over each inch of you. You made a poor attempt at covering your breasts with your forearms because of how blatantly he was staring, but he grabbed your arms and forced them back in their place. You whine again.

Dex really doesn’t have much experience with women, so he doesn’t know how to go about this subtly, his fingers dangling in the air as if lost. You watch him mumble wordlessly, eyes darting back and forth, when he makes an extremely unsubtle pass at one of your breasts, cupping it in his hand. Just like he saw in the movies. As long as he follows that he can’t get it wrong, he thought. It feels firm but still soft. He’s definitely getting worked up now. You watch his movements with anticipation, too scared to make a sound. He takes to kneading your breast, but he has no idea how much pressure to apply, and it’s starting to feel tender. You wince as he gives it a squeeze. Dex’s cock twitches at the sound. He does it again, relishing in the way it changes shape under him. He then decides to roll his thumb over your nipple and you bite down a sound that you didn’t expect to make. As your cheeks redden, you clamp your eyes shut out of embarrassment.

He catches onto this and starts rolling the bud between his fingers, back and forth, nodding approvingly. He wasn’t shy about the pressure, and you could feel the stinging sensation all the way down. Eyes still pressed shut, your quick shallow breaths gave way to deeper ones. Trying to meditate away this sensation. Your breasts had grown incredibly sensitive and you could feel him burn you at every touch as he caressed the area around your nipple. Lazy fingers narrowly avoiding the puffy center. Dex is drawing this out because he’s having too much fun watching you writhe. Your skin was beautifully smooth, a world away from his rough hands, littered with cuts and scrapes. He felt a tiny bubble of anger, and out of nowhere, flicks your nipple, knowing it would make you jump. Something slid between your legs too.

The strain was too much to bear for Dex. He could feel it pressing up against the fabric, furious at the teasing. But for all the carnal desire in him, he had to temper himself. He couldn’t soil this moment with blunt hastiness. Just as you were regaining your composure, he takes it to shove your head into his crotch and holds you there.

“Do you feel that, hm?” He makes sure to bury your nose in deep, squarely pressed to his shaft, “That’s all you baby,” and starts humping into your face. You try to turn your head sideways but to no avail, his hands are so strong you don’t even make a dent in them.

“Mm,” a moan escapes from Dex’s mouth, “Fuck.” Your face was now smudged with tears and it looked like heaven to him. He felt himself losing composure. The burning sensation of your face on his cock made him grit his teeth. He maneuvered you, back and forth, and the low vibration of your whimpering almost made him cum. Your swollen breasts bouncing at the edges of his vision. He felt a coil tightening. You gasped for air at the split-second he stilled.

“Stop,” you bargain, still out of breath. You had no idea how long he was planning to toy with you, but you already felt exhausted. In some dark way, you wanted him to just take you and be done with it. He pauses for a second, hands still tangled in your hair. Then tugs, hard.

“Aw,” he tuts, “Does my girl want a break?” His mouth changes into a pout, mirroring yours.

You nod. Please, please, please, you’re panting into him.

He shifted his gaze down where you were pressed, half-wet with your tears and completely messed up. You were so tired that you were almost like a rag doll in his grip, head lulled to the side. Fire was coursing through him now, and he didn’t know if he could hold himself back. He didn’t know if he wanted to.

“You get one minute,” his voice resolute. You don’t know what this means. Do you get to run? He glances at the watch on his wrist and makes a tick-tock sound. This must be a sick game, your mind flips through every possibility, fueled by the despair of an animal caged. You scamper back and hit the railings again, using them to lift yourself up awkwardly. The intruder before you is unmoving, gaze still fixed on his watch. This is your chance, you think. You try to make a break for it, but your legs are jello. It was either the window, which gave way to a three-story fall, or the main door, which had to be opened from the inside, one of those pesky round knobs.

Dex’s eyes burned into your back as you crossed the hallway to the door. You jiggled the knob blindly, backed up against it since your hands were still bound, but it wouldn’t give. You twiddled it again, back and forth, and broke out in sobs.

“Help—” but it was no use, your neighbors couldn’t be bothered. Please, unsure if it escaped your mouth or remained a thought.

“Alright,” he was on top of you in an instant, “Minute’s over.”

Without a warning, he grabs you by the waist and carries you back effortlessly. You thrash and wail, pry at his arms, but they are unyielding. Solid like tree trunks. You try biting.

“You’re only making it worse for yourself, doll,” he snickers, and flips you over onto your mattress, a small eek! shooting from your lips. He readjusted your body so that you were now bent over on your knees, head just short of your pillow. Dex groaned at the view in front of him, your ass propped up, feet dangling past the mattress. You try to wiggle away, but he stills you by the hips, hard enough to bruise. Snot was now clogging your nose because you were face down in the foam.

“Please,” you sniffle, “Just make it quick.”

“Oh baby,” he croons, again in that disgusting mock-tone of his, “Oh baby, don’t you get it?”

He removes one hand from your hips and you’re left to wonder at his next step. You’re locked in his grip, wrists sore from the ropes, and you could feel the air in the room move. Pats! You let out a high-pitched yell as you felt the sting and burn on your ass.

“The fun is just getting started.”

You’re still reeling from the impact when you can feel his hand pull away, winding up for the next one. Your entire body stiffens on instinct. Pats! The next one landed right where the last one was. Blood surged to the site, and you could feel it pooling around your center. It was undeniable, the heat, no, the wetness. The way he was spanking you was igniting a sensation within that you were trying your hardest to suppress. It was a vulgar, deep want. Something you wouldn’t admit to with a gun to your head. Meanwhile, Dex was clearly relishing in your surprise as he interjected every spank with a silence, no indication of when the next one would come. He wouldn’t let you get off that easy.

“Hm,” his hand came down again, and you could feel the gooey warmth expand, your cunt clenching around nothing to keep it from running down. “What do we have here?” A smirk on his face.

The pressure of his finger on your cunt somehow shocked you more than the spanking that came before. He was stroking it softly, running it up and down your slit. You could feel a deep itch from within, head pressed into the mattress, nails spasming at nothing. His hand moved down, stopping right above the sensitive bundle of nerves, swollen with blood. He prodded it through the thin fabric, which made you squirm.

“Aren’t you a naughty little doll,” at this he pressed down and you yelped. Dex shut his eyes to your sound, thoughts clearing so swiftly it made him feel light-headed.

“You don’t mind letting me have a little taste, hm?” Before you can react, he’s got you by the hips again. And with all the strength from your legs gone, you laid there meekly as he brought his face to your cunt, pressing his tongue right against your clit. You could feel the heat going through your underwear, soaking it both ways. A shiver went down your spine and you let out a wanton moan. You try clawing at him, but your fingers miss his face by an inch and land in his hair. He is unrelenting. Like he knows exactly where you are weak. He is moving his tongue in place now, massaging the bulb, creating a slight suction with his lips. You’re silent, limbs stiff, trying against everything not to make a sound. You couldn’t allow yourself to give him what he wanted.

“I fear you’re enjoying this a bit too much,” he grinned against you. He grabs the frilly edges of your underwear, now completely soaked through, and pulls it down, revealing the wetness gleaming in the moonlight. His coarse fingers trace your folds, puffy and ripe. They come away wet.

“Mm,” he licked them one by one, “just right.”

He lets go at once and you collapse like a puddle, sweat patterning the mattress, underwear still around your ankle. You were too scared to look back at him, for fear of provoking him. It was quiet for a while, just long enough for the fresh sweat to cool down and chill your skin. Suddenly you heard the sound of metal gliding on leather, a click and pull. You stiffen up completely, the blood pulling from your face.

“N-No don’t,” you plead and try to scramble from the bed, but your pathetic escape was futile. He pressed the ice-cold tip of the barrel against your cunt and you shriek. The cold was like an electric jolt, shooting right into your core. The sight of his gun on you had Dex almost ecstatic. You were now completely at his mercy. His mouth fell open, blood reddening his cheeks from arousal, adrenaline on overdrive. He moved the gun back and f— fuck. You whine at the touch, face red and impossibly hot. He was teasing the hole, tickling the edges, coating the glinting metal with your slick.

“Fuck,” you mewl and feel yourself sliding away. At this, he reaches forward and pulls you by the hair, sharply.

“Don’t. Move,” he says through clenched teeth. The gun had warmed up to your heat. Slowly, he worked it past your folds. You could feel the unforgiving metal grind against that bundle of nerves, making your legs twitch. There was some resistance as he kept pushing, your body struggling to accommodate the rough object. He made small circular motions with the head, willing it to go further, right up until the guard rested against your clit.

“Hng,” you could barely stifle your moans. It was ridiculous how well it fit. You could feel every groove and catch, squelching against your walls. As it moved inside you, you could hear deep breaths coming from behind you, shuddering with excitement. This was fucked up. The way the guard kept coming up against your clit, faster and faster, had you fisting your pillow out of desperation. He listened as you moaned into the mattress, the soft guttural sounds going straight from his ears to his crotch. He was scrambling your insides and scraping your walls, watching as your cunt gripped the metal whenever the gun slid back, forming a suction on the barrel. He couldn’t stop picturing his own cock in its place.

Just as you were reaching your apex, feeling the heat overtake you, he pulled it out. You clamped down around nothing, unable to stop the wetness from dripping down. Dex admired your slick as it dribbled down your legs.

“Please,” you don’t know what you’re begging for anymore. After all his little games, Dex couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He struggled to remove his pants, the sound of his belt unbuckling had your clit flutter. With one hand, he pulled his cock from his pants. It was hot and angry, veins near-bursting from the skin. The filmy bead of precum rested at his tip. He pumped it once or twice, inhaling through his teeth. In one swift maneuver, he pulled you down and sank into you, burying his cock to the hilt, letting out a low, animalistic groan.

“Hng,” he stilled himself, feeling your walls finally clamp down on something, engulfing his cock completely. “Fuck,” there was venom in his words. His hand was on the small of your back, you, too tired to wiggle away. He filled you like you had never been filled before, overwhelming you. His cock pushed right into your sweet, spongy interior. For Dex, it felt like salvation. You wanted him deeper, to push into that depth you could never go by yourself. He started, loosening the ropes from your wrist at the same time, and adjusted himself to pin your arms beside your head.

A small twitch of your cunt made him growl. For a moment, all you could hear was his breath on you, like he was collecting his bearings. He didn’t know there were sensations on Earth like this. The way your cunt was stretched around his cock, coating him in your warmth. God, you were such a supple little doll under him. He was already way too close, but he couldn’t permit himself to spoil this moment. Slowly, he sank down, breathing out damp air over your ear.

“You might just be my best find yet,” he smirked. He regained his posture and slid his cock out of you, right until the head was barely past your entrance. His grip tightened, and your walls clenched up in anticipation, but he didn’t move. Not until a second later, taking you by surprise. That’s when he started fucking into you, slow and in that irregular staccato that kept you on the edge permanently. You were squirming and squelching under him. He slammed into you again and again, without mercy, exactly in that spot that would make you unravel. It was like he knew precisely where to aim, tearing moan after moan from you.

The entire bed shook as he pounded into you with abandon. You could hear his ragged breath on your skin, but other than his heaving he made no sound, refusing to let you in on his pleasure. He was close now, and angry about it. Angry that you felt so good, wanting to punish you for it. He removed his hands from your arms and grabbed your waist by the sides, pushing you further down, changing the angle. With one foot on the bed, his soles dirtying your mattress, he quickens his pace into you. You yelp at every thrust, realizing that he was now aiming straight toward your g-spot. In a useless attempt, you grapple at his wrist, try to pry at his fingers, willing him to slow down. Tears lined the corners of your eyes. You could feel your climax building as his balls slapped against your swollen clit.

Dex was close too, he could feel it tearing at him. He was relishing the way you were clawing at him, the pointless thrashing your prey-mind attempted out of sheer desperation. His cock was now drenched in your slick, which only made it easier for him to sink into you. Your walls were massaging him in all the right spots, making his eyes roll back as he fucked those pathetic moans out of you. Sounds you could never take back. He felt the wave coming right as he looked down and saw the early bruises form on your arms, and at this he spasmed hard as his tip crashed into you, tearing an explosive relief from him. He let his seed flood into you, and you could feel the stickiness coating your insides. Then he pumped a few more times, riding out this delicious high. You try to nudge yourself off of him, clit still swollen. But at this he pulled himself out of you, refusing to give you that same release.

The cum was now running down your legs. He paid no mind to you as he zipped up his pants. You squirming as you tried rubbing the mattress, your eyes half-lidded, leaving you destitute.

“You know,” he clicked the magazine back into place and holstered his gun and, without your knowledge, pocketed your underwear, “you should clean your place once in a while.”

You turned your head to look back at him, but he was already gone.

his pace was fast, skin slapping skin and hushed breathes is all you could hear while you were getting your g spot rammed over and over again. your boyfriend was fucking you from behind, hands gripping your fleshy hips. agonizing pleasure bleeding into white-hot pain that made you need more. "dex, please, hurt me more" he grunts as he hunches over you, mouth right next to your ear making you shiver at the contact of his breath to your skin.

"yeah baby? greedy little thing, ill fuckin' hurt you alright." you can tell he says it as a promise and that's when you feel his veiny, muscular arm reaching around and putting you into a headlock. you bite your lip so hard you're sure there's blood but you don't care, not when he's hitting the right spot while making you barely able to breathe. "ss' so good dex, fuuck- don't stop please" you sobbed, tears falling down your cheeks.

that's what breaks him. so many little things about this are bringing him to the very height of pleasure and the tears falling from your pretty fucking face just make him want to hurt you for real, not just by choking you. this was vanilla to him. "yeah? my baby's fuckin' cryin? come, look at me." before you could react you feel his other arm moving and a hand pull you up by the forehead to look him straight in the eyes, the tight headlock never faltering.