About me
Interested in:
I’m looking for:
- Friends
- LTR (relationship)
Description
Fuck around and find out ?
Please ?
I'm pretty much here to vent via writing and to coax a big beautiful beast in through my window so I may keep Him in my metaphorical basement indefinitely.
(Sapiophile and Demisexual)
There's quite a bit to be said about me... but feel free to ask anything. Keep in mind though that if you initiate conversation with sexual undertones it's extremely unlikely that you'll get a response from me. Yep...
Limits
No Multiple partners
No Non-monogamous dynamics
No Age & Race play
No ***
No switching
My roles & archetype
My kinks & fetishes
I like:
- Fear Play
- Ball Gag
- Begging
- Biting Fetish
- Bondage
- Bondage Cage
- Bondage Rope
- Glasses Fetish
- Chains
- Collar & Leash
- Cosplay
- Doctor Role Play
- Erotic Wrestling
- Face Slapping
- Restraints
- Fingering
- Torturer - Captive Prisoner
- Hair Pulling
- Handcuffs
- Multiple Orgasms
- Nipple Clamps
- Orgasm Control
- Pinching
- Post Orgasm Torture
- Robot Fetishism
- Role Play
- Sapiosexual
- Sensory Deprivation
- Sex Machine
- Spanking
- Suspension Cuffs
- Vampire Role Play
- Wand Massager
Wanna know what interests me?:
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His work schedule had taken an unexpected turn, and the wicked spark of excitement at sharing the news had alighted within him. Yet, he kept the secret close, choosing to keep it a surprise instead.
Returning home, the distant murmur of water called to him, the sound floating from the master Read more… bathroom. Stealthy as a shadow, he approached, unlatching the door with the care of a thief in the twilight. His eyes, those piercing orbs of intent, sought her through a breach in the shower curtain.
There she was, her figure a symphony of self indulgence, one hand fervently clawing her breast, the other orchestrating pleasure with the showerhead playing against her satin folds. Desire, unbidden and fierce, surged through him, his own arousal a rigid testament to her lascivious display.
Garments shed like fallen leaves, his body tensed and primed, he struck. His hand, a serpent of possession, clamped about her throat, an iron vise of retribution as the shower curtain was whipped aside.
"You little slut," he hissed, venomous and full of dark promise, his voice a storm rumbling over the precipice of her transgressions.
He watched as shock ***ted her face, her limbs flailing wildly. The sound of bottles clattering against the tile reached his ears accompanied by the thud of the shower head being thrust away in terror.
"So this is what you do when I'm not here?" His tone was accusatory as he stepped into the shower, the space suddenly too small, his presence too large.
"No, Sir," she whimpered, her eyes wide and beseeching, pleading for both forgiveness and his next move. But the truth flickered there, and he seized it, his hand turning her face to his with unforgiving firmness.
"Go on then," he demanded, his voice a sharp edge in the humid air. The impact of the shower head against her thigh resonated with a challenge, the implement thrust back into her grasp.
A harsh slap cut through the steam, her cheek stinging with the imprint of his hand, her body jolting with a violent tremor as the water's pulse continued its insistent rhythm against her. Her legs quivered, the surge of *** mingling with forbidden pleasure, each drop from the shower head a reminder of her transgression.
His eyes shimmered with devilish delight seeing her already teetering on the brink. "Look at you," he chuckled, dark timbre laced with amused malice, "so ready to fall apart for me."
His hand, a merciless vice, found its way once again to her delicate neck…squeezing, pressing, denying her lungs their desperate plea for air until her knees threatened to betray her.
With a sudden release, oxygen flooded back to her, a life giving torrent that catapulted her over the edge into blissful oblivion. "Did I say you could cum?" The growl vibrated against her skin, a feral reprimand as she leaned into him, her entire form quaking with the *** of her shattering ecstasy.
His grin was that of a predator in control as he cruelly shifted the spray from searing warmth to biting cold. Her screams filled the steamy confines of the bathroom, a symphony of ***d pleasure, her fingers releasing the shower head as if it burned.
He was quick to restrain her, his body a solid bastion against any attempt to escape the icy torrent. ***fully, he maneuvered her, turning her to face the unforgiving tiles.
Then, with a possessive hand over her mouth to muffle her cries, he plunged his rigid cock deep into her convulsing pussy, filling her without preamble, without mercy.
The cold water nipped at his ankles, indifferent to the heat of his fervor, as he dug his claws into the tender flesh of her chest, branding her with marks that spoke of his hunger.
The relentless rhythm he set was a punishing dance…his hips crashed into hers, each savage thrust carving into her mercilessly.
The sensation of her eager tongue against the expanse of his hand was fuel to the inferno that raged within him. With a low snarl, his fingers plunged into the warm wetness of her mouth…a clear message of the looming onslaught her body was about to endure.
"May she cum?" Her voice, muffled and distorted by the intrusion of his digits, was thick with need…her desperation a sweet serenade that only heightened his sadistic desires.
His laugh was a growled melody of absolute power as he deliberated over her pathetic plea. "You think you fucking deserve another one?" His words were a tempest, his grip shifting, now latching onto her hair, wrenching her head back.
"No, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir," she whimpered, a symphony of submission. Yet even as her weakened knees gave the tantalizing hint of collapse, her quivering form laid bare her inner turmoil between punishment and need.
The next impact was a deliberate cruelty, his cock slamming into her with such precision that it crashed against her cervix, a barrier to the ascension of pleasure she so desperately sought. Her uncomfortable gasp, a delicious contradiction to the distant sound of pleasure that lingered beneath.
Her body bowed under the weight of his authority as he pushed her head down, her palms finding solace upon the slick tiles. His nails carved paths of possession down her back, each mark a testament to the fervor that consumed him.
Held there, her whimpers melded into the steam…a haunting aria of desire that resonated within the confines of the shower.
Each pulse of his ravaging arousal became a crescendo within him until, possessively clutching her hips, he released his essence deep inside her womb.
Her melodious whimpers of sweet agony caressed his senses while his fingers tantalized devilishly over her swollen clit, prolonging the ecstasy that held her captive.
As her body writhed in futile attempts to evade the pleasure he wielded like a weapon, he toyed with her mercilessly, edging her closer to the abyss of release.
Yet, upon feeling her tighten around him signifying her imminent climax…he abruptly ceased his *** and withdrew from her warmth, leaving a cold void in the wake of heated passion.
Desperation seized her face, contorting it with lust as her fingers, now claws of yearning, scratched at his chest…her pleas for continuation falling on deaf ears.
He afforded her no mercy as he washed away the sins of their union, her frustration a background opus as he stepped from the shower.
Enshrouding himself in a towel, he turned to leave the bathroom with a grin, her whimpers a fading chorus accompanying his departure.
Dressed now, his form was the epitome of his own self satisfaction, the mirror reflecting back a predator pleased with the hunt.
The symphony of her vocal disappointment was the perfect serenade as he tailored himself once more in the guise of normality.
Her crescendo of need played on, an unseen performance, while he reveled in a silence that spoke only of fulfillment…a silence that was his alone as he closed the door on their tempestuous interlude.
Returning home, the distant murmur of water called to him, the sound floating from the master Read more… bathroom. Stealthy as a shadow, he approached, unlatching the door with the care of a thief in the twilight. His eyes, those piercing orbs of intent, sought her through a breach in the shower curtain.
There she was, her figure a symphony of self indulgence, one hand fervently clawing her breast, the other orchestrating pleasure with the showerhead playing against her satin folds. Desire, unbidden and fierce, surged through him, his own arousal a rigid testament to her lascivious display.
Garments shed like fallen leaves, his body tensed and primed, he struck. His hand, a serpent of possession, clamped about her throat, an iron vise of retribution as the shower curtain was whipped aside.
"You little slut," he hissed, venomous and full of dark promise, his voice a storm rumbling over the precipice of her transgressions.
He watched as shock ***ted her face, her limbs flailing wildly. The sound of bottles clattering against the tile reached his ears accompanied by the thud of the shower head being thrust away in terror.
"So this is what you do when I'm not here?" His tone was accusatory as he stepped into the shower, the space suddenly too small, his presence too large.
"No, Sir," she whimpered, her eyes wide and beseeching, pleading for both forgiveness and his next move. But the truth flickered there, and he seized it, his hand turning her face to his with unforgiving firmness.
"Go on then," he demanded, his voice a sharp edge in the humid air. The impact of the shower head against her thigh resonated with a challenge, the implement thrust back into her grasp.
A harsh slap cut through the steam, her cheek stinging with the imprint of his hand, her body jolting with a violent tremor as the water's pulse continued its insistent rhythm against her. Her legs quivered, the surge of *** mingling with forbidden pleasure, each drop from the shower head a reminder of her transgression.
His eyes shimmered with devilish delight seeing her already teetering on the brink. "Look at you," he chuckled, dark timbre laced with amused malice, "so ready to fall apart for me."
His hand, a merciless vice, found its way once again to her delicate neck…squeezing, pressing, denying her lungs their desperate plea for air until her knees threatened to betray her.
With a sudden release, oxygen flooded back to her, a life giving torrent that catapulted her over the edge into blissful oblivion. "Did I say you could cum?" The growl vibrated against her skin, a feral reprimand as she leaned into him, her entire form quaking with the *** of her shattering ecstasy.
His grin was that of a predator in control as he cruelly shifted the spray from searing warmth to biting cold. Her screams filled the steamy confines of the bathroom, a symphony of ***d pleasure, her fingers releasing the shower head as if it burned.
He was quick to restrain her, his body a solid bastion against any attempt to escape the icy torrent. ***fully, he maneuvered her, turning her to face the unforgiving tiles.
Then, with a possessive hand over her mouth to muffle her cries, he plunged his rigid cock deep into her convulsing pussy, filling her without preamble, without mercy.
The cold water nipped at his ankles, indifferent to the heat of his fervor, as he dug his claws into the tender flesh of her chest, branding her with marks that spoke of his hunger.
The relentless rhythm he set was a punishing dance…his hips crashed into hers, each savage thrust carving into her mercilessly.
The sensation of her eager tongue against the expanse of his hand was fuel to the inferno that raged within him. With a low snarl, his fingers plunged into the warm wetness of her mouth…a clear message of the looming onslaught her body was about to endure.
"May she cum?" Her voice, muffled and distorted by the intrusion of his digits, was thick with need…her desperation a sweet serenade that only heightened his sadistic desires.
His laugh was a growled melody of absolute power as he deliberated over her pathetic plea. "You think you fucking deserve another one?" His words were a tempest, his grip shifting, now latching onto her hair, wrenching her head back.
"No, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir," she whimpered, a symphony of submission. Yet even as her weakened knees gave the tantalizing hint of collapse, her quivering form laid bare her inner turmoil between punishment and need.
The next impact was a deliberate cruelty, his cock slamming into her with such precision that it crashed against her cervix, a barrier to the ascension of pleasure she so desperately sought. Her uncomfortable gasp, a delicious contradiction to the distant sound of pleasure that lingered beneath.
Her body bowed under the weight of his authority as he pushed her head down, her palms finding solace upon the slick tiles. His nails carved paths of possession down her back, each mark a testament to the fervor that consumed him.
Held there, her whimpers melded into the steam…a haunting aria of desire that resonated within the confines of the shower.
Each pulse of his ravaging arousal became a crescendo within him until, possessively clutching her hips, he released his essence deep inside her womb.
Her melodious whimpers of sweet agony caressed his senses while his fingers tantalized devilishly over her swollen clit, prolonging the ecstasy that held her captive.
As her body writhed in futile attempts to evade the pleasure he wielded like a weapon, he toyed with her mercilessly, edging her closer to the abyss of release.
Yet, upon feeling her tighten around him signifying her imminent climax…he abruptly ceased his *** and withdrew from her warmth, leaving a cold void in the wake of heated passion.
Desperation seized her face, contorting it with lust as her fingers, now claws of yearning, scratched at his chest…her pleas for continuation falling on deaf ears.
He afforded her no mercy as he washed away the sins of their union, her frustration a background opus as he stepped from the shower.
Enshrouding himself in a towel, he turned to leave the bathroom with a grin, her whimpers a fading chorus accompanying his departure.
Dressed now, his form was the epitome of his own self satisfaction, the mirror reflecting back a predator pleased with the hunt.
The symphony of her vocal disappointment was the perfect serenade as he tailored himself once more in the guise of normality.
Her crescendo of need played on, an unseen performance, while he reveled in a silence that spoke only of fulfillment…a silence that was his alone as he closed the door on their tempestuous interlude.
LikeUtility2, dominanttraveler1980and 5 more…
Through her Window...A Master's Claim
Slipping through her window with the stealth of a predator, he was upon her at last. The anticipation and intensity of his yearning were nearly crippling, a lust so fierce it ignited his very soul with a rage like fervor.
This was her doing... his need for her was so acute it left him inflamed and Read more…weakened with desire.
As she stepped forward to embrace him, he seized her throat with unsteady hands, every ounce of his self control tested to avoid crushing her delicate windpipe.
With an effort, he eased his grasp, only to find his teeth buried in her neck with a ferocious urgency. She let out a cry as her flesh yielded slightly beneath his bite, yet this time, he refrained from consuming her entirely.
His fingernails dug into her flesh, holding her with an unyielding *** as he groaned against her neck. His mouth hung open, gasping to temper his ravenous hunger. As he licked at the mark he had created, his tongue moved with the desperate urgency of a wild beast quenching its thirst.
Her screams reverberated in the charged air as he tore off her skirt, swiftly followed by her panties. His body ached with an unnerving need, the sensation akin to the headiest of aphrodisiacs spiked with an excess of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He was *** by desire as he gripped her hair tightly and hurled her ***fully to the ground. The moment she pushed herself up and cast a backward glance at him, his last vestige of self restraint shattered.
"Look what you've done," he snarled, freeing his engorged cock from the confines of his trousers. His hand encircled her throat, the throbbing head of his manhood teasing her slick entrance. He felt her pulse racing, her breaths coming in urgent gasps.
"No, not yet," he growled, pulling back abruptly and flinging her down once again. Lunging forward with predatory grace, he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her ass, showing savage abandon as her screams filled the air and she thrashed wildly, desperate to escape.
“Shut up,” he hissed as he smacked the cheek he'd just imprinted his mark upon, using his thumb to he traced the wound. He was so close to her snatch. Despite her protests he could smell her arousal.
“Oh you like this do you? You stupid fucking whore he chuckled as he slid a finger inside of her. She was dripping wet. “Does your ass get this wet?" he said with laughter strained through clenched teeth. With swift brutality, he withdrew his finger only to drive it with unyielding *** into her ass.
"That's it…is this what you wanted?" he snarled, delivering several more stinging slaps across her ass, eliciting a tightening around his invading digit. As he slowly extracted his finger, he replaced it with a medium sized plug, securing it within her slightly gaping orifice.
He wasted no time in flipping her onto her back, his hands encircling her neck, throttling her to emphasize his commands.
"You thought you could just come around me and dangle yourself like a piece of meat? What kind of imbecilic twat begs a beast to crawl through her window?" he spat, his tone laden with ferocity. His grip shifted from her *** throat, entwining in her hair, while his other clawed hand viciously claimed her breast, kneading the soft flesh as a declaration of his dominance.
His veneer of control frayed at the edges as he watched her struggle to draw breath, each desperate gasp chipping away at his patience.
With a harsh smack to her breast, he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her abdomen, fingers digging into her ass with possessive ferocity before trailing down her thighs, leaving behind searing reminders of his touch.
His arousal, once momentarily subdued, now stirred anew…his cock twitching, throbbing, aching with a primal need. Forcing his fingers past her lips, he shoved his head between her thighs to savor her taste. Yet her teeth clamped down on his hand in defiance, and in response, he unleashed his savagery upon her thigh, his bite drawing crimson beads to the surface.
"Do you prefer this, then?" he snarled, his mouth enveloping a larger swathe of her flesh, biting down again as if to claim her very being with his predatory hunger.
His composure, precariously cobbled together with each swell of restraint, fractured at the slightest whimper, the faintest gasp that slipped from her quivering lips.
"Stop... wait, no," he commanded, his hand clamping on her face, dragging her by her delicate jawbone to her knees. The look in her eyes…wide with terror, tinged with the intoxicating haze of desire…it fueled his craze, igniting a fire within.
"Yes... fuck," he breathed out, his voice but a whisper, his grip on her face relenting as he gave it a series of light, stinging slaps.
"Yes, good..." he murmured, his hands in her hair, manipulating her upright with the ease of a puppeteer hoisting a marionette into position. He leaned close, his breath hot against the shell of her ear as he growled a sinister directive, "Now you're going to worship my cock as if your very existence depends on it…no stupid shit… Misstep, and you'll be *** for the parts you'd beg not to." His hiss was a fierce undercurrent to the threat.
The tumultuous look that flickered in her eyes as he discarded her to the ground was the potent catalyst to his madness, erasing all pretense of control. In a swift motion, he hoisted her into the air, pressing her drained body against his own relentless ***.
As he drove his cock inside her, her slick warmth enveloped him with an ease that belied the abruptness of his actions, yet the intensity of the moment left her further disoriented.
Her screams melded with the ferocity of her clawing at his back, her body convulsing, tightening around him with a powerful grip. He allowed her a few potent seconds impaled on his length before removing her, only to position her yet again.
"Now... open," he commanded, his voice brimming with dark authority as he slapped his wet cock against her flushed cheeks. Impatience was unnecessary…he plunged into the depths of her throat amidst her heaving breaths.
His relentless thrusts pounded against her, each motion deeper into the cavern of her throat, each sound of her ***d sobs and gags fueling his rampant desire.
"Are you okay?" he purred, amusement lacing his tone, an echo of concern merely a shadow within his chuckle. As her ragged gasps filled the air, surrender seemed to unfold across her features in the briefest of moments.
Yet, instead of a verbal response, she seized the moment to attack, her teeth sinking into the flesh at his side with a ferocity mirroring his own.
Undeterred by her biting, a primal rumble vibrated from deep within his chest. His arm slithered around her, his hand moving with deliberate intent as he slipped two fingers back into the welcoming heat of her pussy.
"You're perfect, aren't you?" he growled, his voice thick with raw appreciation and lustful dominance.
His hand withdrew only after a taste of her depths, and with a ***ful grip, he pried her off of him, her teeth reluctantly releasing their hold. She fought against his restraint, eager still to bite and suckle the flesh she had claimed as her own.
Seizing her chin with unerring precision, he loomed above her, a sardonic smile dancing across his lips as leaned over and smiled against hers.
He whispered a command…murmured like a seductive spell beckoning her to proceed as he claimed her mouth with an imposing invasion of his tongue.
Her response came without hesitation, her lips suckling at his tongue with voracious eagerness as he grappled with his own rampant desire, his hand encircling his pulsing shaft in a futile attempt to quell its insistence.
Unable to restore his sanity he thrust her away and put a barrier between them, his foot pressed firmly against her breasts.
“Run…” he commanded.
He watched as she slowly scampered to her knees.
“Not fast enough!” he growled, lashing out at her with aimless limbs swiping and colliding with her chin and tender abdomen.
The jarr to her face ignited her sense of self preservation and she darted quickly for the door. It took everything within him to even give her a few seconds head start.
“One…two…” he managed before bolting through the doorway after her.
He didn't care about the hunt nor the chase, he'd been hunting her for months and now…he would finally have her.
The family dog took pursuit as well, concerned about the commotion. As he caught up to her quickly and wrapped one hand around her neck and another over her mouth, her canine companion knew by the scent in the air that this wasn't the time to intervene, this was raw nature at its finest.
The dog pounced around them excitedly before bolting back onto the sofa, settling down as he dragged her back through the hallway and returned her to the bedroom.
Casting her onto the bed he ripped open her side dresser and grasped the silken restraints he'd known were kept there.
He commanded her with a low and menacing growl, "Hold still," as he bound her wrists with a rapid urgency that paid no mind to finesse. The knots were crude, born of necessity rather than artistry… She was his now, and there was no chance of escape.
He vanished into the closet, a place where her private pleasures lay hidden, now subject to his marauding search. His hand, white from the tension, clasped an alloy handle, and he re-emerged as if from the shadows…a predator returning to its prize.
Shaking the tension from his arms, he advanced towards her…the metal tassels at the end of the handle whispered threats like a serpent ready to strike, announcing his impending intent. Grabbing a pair of panties from the drawer's contents sprawled across the floor he shoved them into her mouth.
She could feel the chill of alloy caress the nape of her neck and shoulders as he slowly crept the whip’s tendrils down her back…The chains he left to dangle between her thighs, barely teasing her snatch as he tried to slow his breathing.
Then…the sensation was gone. Everything fell silent and remained that way for an excruciating amount of time. She heard not even a breath slither behind her…it was if he'd vanished all together.
Her senses were taut with the straining suspense…he had honed this wait to a cruel art, each passing moment fraying her resolve until, inevitably, curiosity betrayed her.
She moved, an infinitesimal shift, driven by the desperate need to unveil his next maneuver. Yet it was enough. The moment she stirred, the biting lash of the alloy tendrils kissed her skin, a searing sting across her flesh.
A muffled yelp strained against the fabric wedged between her lips, the panties now a soaked testament to her anxiety and ***.
From the depths of her *** and ***, a groan…a sound threaded with the dark pleasure of her submission escaped him as he stood behind her. And then, without mercy, another lash sliced through the air, delivering a blow that was stark in its abruptness, in its uncompromising ***.
Once again she felt the bulging head of his cock tease her entrance. Sweet whimpers came crawling up her throat as he continued to tease and *** her. Another abrupt lash found its way searing into her inner thighs and subsequently she found herself snatched up by the hair to watch as the marks bloomed across her flesh.
Briefly she met his gaze. He wasn't snarling nor smiling. His expression haunting, neutral, almost entranced in his headspace.
It was as if each lash had transferred a portion of his emotion into her very essence. His eyes harbored no ***, no love, no concern, no happiness yet in them there was a soothing sense of pure bliss. There it was…the void…staring back at her… if for only a few moments he was allowed to be free from all thoughts and emotions…to feel absolutely nothing.
In his gaze, she was able to fully relax as well, offering her full surrender to the fleeting glimpse of the void. The hollow tranquility of their mutual escape was short lived however…as a grin slowly creeped across his face.
Although the beast had been silenced in those mere moments of her surrendered submission…it was by no means satiated.
He followed the raised welts on her skin with his tongue, a tender contrast to the previous harshness. The softness of his touch emphasized the heat of the welts, creating a tapestry of sensation that held her captive.
His journey continued until his tongue found the more sensitive regions of her flesh, teasing the entrance of her ass with deliberate hunger.
Her response was involuntary, instinctive…she gnawed at the sodden fabric between her lips, moans vibrating through the gag, each one a chorus of her ecstasy. The tracing of her plug with the precise tip of his tongue was exquisite ***, and she writhed under the skillful provocation.
But as fluidly as the sensation had begun, it ceased. He withdrew the plug with a deliberate carelessness that left her momentarily hollow before the void was ripped apart by the searing whip.
The lash engulfed her back, a firebrand that expanded its reach across her skin. The crack split the silence…a herald of ***…and the bite that followed coerced a new tapestry of red upon her skin, one that no tongue could soothe.
The abrupt shock ripped a scream from her throat that caused the panties to crawl from her mouth.
Casting the whip aside as to prevent any uncontrolled chaos he snatched her by the nape of the neck.
“Fuck!” she screamed.
“Not yet…” came his answer, followed by another command to run.
She knew better than to physically hesitate at this point and yet a whimpering “No" of a plea fell from her lips as she struggled to make her way bound off of the bed.
He chuckled in amusement at her writhing form as it slumped off the bed and onto the floor in an attempt to escape.
"There's no running, you idiot. Look at your pathetic attempts." Laughter, callous and taunting, followed as he pressed her face against the rough fabric of the carpet, his actions uncompromising.
With calculated patience, he introduced a lubricant into her exposed and yielding entrance, the cool slickness of the liquid promising more to come.
It traced a chilling path down her trembling thighs as she complied with his stern command, "Stand up." Her movements were clumsy as the cold liquid caressed her canal, it dribbled down her thighs as she fumbled awkwardly to her knees.
Without a moment's reprieve he snaked his hand around her throat, hoisting her up slightly as he ***d himself inside her. Her primal moans ***ed out by his hands quick snap to cover her mouth…He waited for the shaking and screaming to subside before lowering her head back down to the carpet.
Using her bondage as leverage he continued to thrust into her mercilessly, her screams now melting into ragged gasps and moans of ascending subspace.
The pleasure engulfed her mind, pounding her consciousness into a limbo where the lines between the divine and utter destruction began to blur.
Her voice, quivering with the weight of her predicament, rang forth with a mantra of gratitude amidst the chaos, a feeble attempt to find solace in surrender. "T-thank you," she murmured, the phrase spilling out relentlessly.
His inquiry was sharp with mock bewilderment, echoing in the space between them. "Thank you?" he echoed with a tainted incredulity. His voice turned to a growl, laden with scorn, as he posed the cruel rhetorical question. "For what? For using you like the little fucking whore you are, for fucking your shit up?" His fingers raked across her hips with a sadistic claim, drawing *** to the surface and leaving her branded with shallow puncture wounds.
As he wove his fingers through her hair, gripping with a *** that brooked no resistance, her body was contorted and twisted to his will. "Keep saying it, keep fucking saying it," he ordered, the command resonating with the power of his dominance.
The words became her litany, "Thank you… thank you," escaping through sobs, her tears etching lines of both *** and release upon her face.
"Fuck,” his whispered curse betrayed his precipice of control… his arousal edged to the brink by her litany of thanks, her tears, her very surrender. In a swift motion borne of his own overwhelming need, he released her, realigning himself to press against her yielding lips anew.
"Clean it off," his command was a guttural directive, rough with need, as he ***d himself into her mouth…her compliance, his for the taking. His breaths came jagged and unsteady, his claws raking across his own skin in a desperate ploy for anchorage amidst the storm of his own making.
Consumed by an insatiable hunger, the kind that gnawed at his very soul, his body quivered, every fiber straining under the intensity of his yearning. Desire coiled tightly around his reason, driving him towards the precipice of madness.
The snarl that ripped from his throat was laced with frustration and venom. "Fuck this, fuck this, and fuck you." The words were a tempest as he withdrew from her throat, leaving her gasping, her purpose momentarily abandoned.
Pacing like a caged beast, he seized a pair of scissors from the depths of the closeted craft box, his actions a chaotic whirl. With haste and a modicum of care that belied his boiling frenzy, he snipped through the restraints that bound her wrists, the blades trembling in his grasp, dangerously close to turning her flesh to ribbons.
As the silken threads and the scissors clattered against the wall, discarded remnants of their savage dance, he issued her one final, feral growl. “You think you can stop me?" "Stop me," he taunted, before lunging at her with reckless abandon.
As the maelstrom swirled, she exploded into wakefulness, the adrenaline forging clarity of purpose and power. It was survival, raw and unyielding, that electrified her muscles and sharpened her mind.
Her hand, seeking leverage, tangled fiercely into his hair, a grip both desperate and strategic. Her legs coiled tightly, knees drawing protectively forward, preparing to thrust outward. The other arm pivoted, a shield against his predatory advance, diverting his hand as it lunged for her *** throat.
Her teeth, a weapon of primitive instinct, found his flesh, sinking into his arm with ferocious precision. Guided by a blend of *** and fury, she harnessed his captured mane, twisting, forcing her knee to connect with his abdomen. The contact elicited from him a hiss…a sound that she clung to as her last efforts began to wane.
His retaliation came swift… a wedge driven between her resisting thighs, his presence an unrelenting ***. "Not even close," he whispered, the mockery a velvet cloak d***d over the cold steel of his intent. His bite on her ear was the harbinger of his imminent invasion, a firm, possessive claim before he drove himself into her core.
A scream seized the air as she grappled for purchase, nails raking his flesh, a frantic attempt to anchor herself to something, anything, in the tempest of his possession. She fought against the crushing weight that sought to envelop her, his dominance a relentless pressure that threatened to consume her very being.
“I knew you couldn't fight…why would you fight something that you were so pathetically begging for? I could sense your desperation, for this…for me…for your Master.” his voice was taunt, dripping with disdain.
He was right…she had no further protests. Slowly her legs wrapped around his waist as she pulled herself deeper into the breeding position. Her lips collided with his neck, sucking, licking and nibbling at the weathered flesh.
Her whimpers came forth, longer and more drawn out as she began climbing once more into realms of ecstasy. He could feel her grip loosening as she slipped away. His hand clasped around her throat, wrestling her breath from her lungs as she proceeded to thrash about.
"Cum, cum now," he demanded, his voice a dark incantation. "Or you'll lose consciousness trying." His words were a grim promise, a boundary set where pleasure and peril blurred.
Her compliance was not a choice but preservation. Her body stiffened, a bowstring pulled taut, as her ascent was forcibly hastened. Beneath him, she struggled, each movement an erratic dance choreographed by his accelerating thrusts into her cervix.
In her eyes, the duality of terror and anticipation mingled…he saw the abyss into which she teetered…a precipice of ecstasy she resisted to plunge from. His perception sharpened by sadistic insight, he discerned the ruse as her muscles contracted in feigned climax.
“No!” he growled as he released her throat and grabbed her by the back of the neck to watch as he carved his way in and out of her.
The sudden inflow of air was salvation, a violent rush filling her starved lungs as he crashed back into her with the relentless *** of a storm surge. In that moment she was able to let go… no longer having control over anything…her whole body began to quake violently as she shattered beneath him.
"Good girl, good fucking girl," he growled with dark satisfaction, words of perverse praise that fanned the flames of her disintegration. "Keep going... go," he ordered, the tone of his voice a rudder steering her through her surrender.
The sensation was alien, an uncharted territory where pleasure knew no bounds. The swell of her first true penetration induced climax washed over her, a deluge that cleansed years of repressed longing.
In this pivotal moment, her body capitulated, releasing waves of emotional and physical catharsis as she convulsed under him, a raw and primal dance of release.
A growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he continued to pound her relentlessly, slowly allowing his own climax to build. She still hadn't stopped shaking, her body remained out of control as he met her on the brink of ecstasy.
Finally he succumbed to his pleasure. Finding release and shooting his seed deeply into the confines of her supple cervix. Guttural moans licked her ear as the sound of his climax sent her sprawling over the edge once more as they claimed each other with mutual fervency.
As they fed each other's hunger from their own flesh the thralls of passion consumed them until they found themselves entwined together in a mass of haphazard limbs. Their bodies entangled in an aftermath of primal yearning that could only be momentarily satiated by the merging of one another.
Fingers slowly crept along skin as they relished in the taste and scent of the struggle that had previously ensued.
Legs locked around each other as laughter emerged. In the stillness, he took a pause, his gaze meandering over her features, absorbing the silent language of her sated flush…With this he gave her a sly grin, reinforcing their mutual understanding that their night together had just begun…
This was her doing... his need for her was so acute it left him inflamed and Read more…weakened with desire.
As she stepped forward to embrace him, he seized her throat with unsteady hands, every ounce of his self control tested to avoid crushing her delicate windpipe.
With an effort, he eased his grasp, only to find his teeth buried in her neck with a ferocious urgency. She let out a cry as her flesh yielded slightly beneath his bite, yet this time, he refrained from consuming her entirely.
His fingernails dug into her flesh, holding her with an unyielding *** as he groaned against her neck. His mouth hung open, gasping to temper his ravenous hunger. As he licked at the mark he had created, his tongue moved with the desperate urgency of a wild beast quenching its thirst.
Her screams reverberated in the charged air as he tore off her skirt, swiftly followed by her panties. His body ached with an unnerving need, the sensation akin to the headiest of aphrodisiacs spiked with an excess of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He was *** by desire as he gripped her hair tightly and hurled her ***fully to the ground. The moment she pushed herself up and cast a backward glance at him, his last vestige of self restraint shattered.
"Look what you've done," he snarled, freeing his engorged cock from the confines of his trousers. His hand encircled her throat, the throbbing head of his manhood teasing her slick entrance. He felt her pulse racing, her breaths coming in urgent gasps.
"No, not yet," he growled, pulling back abruptly and flinging her down once again. Lunging forward with predatory grace, he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her ass, showing savage abandon as her screams filled the air and she thrashed wildly, desperate to escape.
“Shut up,” he hissed as he smacked the cheek he'd just imprinted his mark upon, using his thumb to he traced the wound. He was so close to her snatch. Despite her protests he could smell her arousal.
“Oh you like this do you? You stupid fucking whore he chuckled as he slid a finger inside of her. She was dripping wet. “Does your ass get this wet?" he said with laughter strained through clenched teeth. With swift brutality, he withdrew his finger only to drive it with unyielding *** into her ass.
"That's it…is this what you wanted?" he snarled, delivering several more stinging slaps across her ass, eliciting a tightening around his invading digit. As he slowly extracted his finger, he replaced it with a medium sized plug, securing it within her slightly gaping orifice.
He wasted no time in flipping her onto her back, his hands encircling her neck, throttling her to emphasize his commands.
"You thought you could just come around me and dangle yourself like a piece of meat? What kind of imbecilic twat begs a beast to crawl through her window?" he spat, his tone laden with ferocity. His grip shifted from her *** throat, entwining in her hair, while his other clawed hand viciously claimed her breast, kneading the soft flesh as a declaration of his dominance.
His veneer of control frayed at the edges as he watched her struggle to draw breath, each desperate gasp chipping away at his patience.
With a harsh smack to her breast, he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her abdomen, fingers digging into her ass with possessive ferocity before trailing down her thighs, leaving behind searing reminders of his touch.
His arousal, once momentarily subdued, now stirred anew…his cock twitching, throbbing, aching with a primal need. Forcing his fingers past her lips, he shoved his head between her thighs to savor her taste. Yet her teeth clamped down on his hand in defiance, and in response, he unleashed his savagery upon her thigh, his bite drawing crimson beads to the surface.
"Do you prefer this, then?" he snarled, his mouth enveloping a larger swathe of her flesh, biting down again as if to claim her very being with his predatory hunger.
His composure, precariously cobbled together with each swell of restraint, fractured at the slightest whimper, the faintest gasp that slipped from her quivering lips.
"Stop... wait, no," he commanded, his hand clamping on her face, dragging her by her delicate jawbone to her knees. The look in her eyes…wide with terror, tinged with the intoxicating haze of desire…it fueled his craze, igniting a fire within.
"Yes... fuck," he breathed out, his voice but a whisper, his grip on her face relenting as he gave it a series of light, stinging slaps.
"Yes, good..." he murmured, his hands in her hair, manipulating her upright with the ease of a puppeteer hoisting a marionette into position. He leaned close, his breath hot against the shell of her ear as he growled a sinister directive, "Now you're going to worship my cock as if your very existence depends on it…no stupid shit… Misstep, and you'll be *** for the parts you'd beg not to." His hiss was a fierce undercurrent to the threat.
The tumultuous look that flickered in her eyes as he discarded her to the ground was the potent catalyst to his madness, erasing all pretense of control. In a swift motion, he hoisted her into the air, pressing her drained body against his own relentless ***.
As he drove his cock inside her, her slick warmth enveloped him with an ease that belied the abruptness of his actions, yet the intensity of the moment left her further disoriented.
Her screams melded with the ferocity of her clawing at his back, her body convulsing, tightening around him with a powerful grip. He allowed her a few potent seconds impaled on his length before removing her, only to position her yet again.
"Now... open," he commanded, his voice brimming with dark authority as he slapped his wet cock against her flushed cheeks. Impatience was unnecessary…he plunged into the depths of her throat amidst her heaving breaths.
His relentless thrusts pounded against her, each motion deeper into the cavern of her throat, each sound of her ***d sobs and gags fueling his rampant desire.
"Are you okay?" he purred, amusement lacing his tone, an echo of concern merely a shadow within his chuckle. As her ragged gasps filled the air, surrender seemed to unfold across her features in the briefest of moments.
Yet, instead of a verbal response, she seized the moment to attack, her teeth sinking into the flesh at his side with a ferocity mirroring his own.
Undeterred by her biting, a primal rumble vibrated from deep within his chest. His arm slithered around her, his hand moving with deliberate intent as he slipped two fingers back into the welcoming heat of her pussy.
"You're perfect, aren't you?" he growled, his voice thick with raw appreciation and lustful dominance.
His hand withdrew only after a taste of her depths, and with a ***ful grip, he pried her off of him, her teeth reluctantly releasing their hold. She fought against his restraint, eager still to bite and suckle the flesh she had claimed as her own.
Seizing her chin with unerring precision, he loomed above her, a sardonic smile dancing across his lips as leaned over and smiled against hers.
He whispered a command…murmured like a seductive spell beckoning her to proceed as he claimed her mouth with an imposing invasion of his tongue.
Her response came without hesitation, her lips suckling at his tongue with voracious eagerness as he grappled with his own rampant desire, his hand encircling his pulsing shaft in a futile attempt to quell its insistence.
Unable to restore his sanity he thrust her away and put a barrier between them, his foot pressed firmly against her breasts.
“Run…” he commanded.
He watched as she slowly scampered to her knees.
“Not fast enough!” he growled, lashing out at her with aimless limbs swiping and colliding with her chin and tender abdomen.
The jarr to her face ignited her sense of self preservation and she darted quickly for the door. It took everything within him to even give her a few seconds head start.
“One…two…” he managed before bolting through the doorway after her.
He didn't care about the hunt nor the chase, he'd been hunting her for months and now…he would finally have her.
The family dog took pursuit as well, concerned about the commotion. As he caught up to her quickly and wrapped one hand around her neck and another over her mouth, her canine companion knew by the scent in the air that this wasn't the time to intervene, this was raw nature at its finest.
The dog pounced around them excitedly before bolting back onto the sofa, settling down as he dragged her back through the hallway and returned her to the bedroom.
Casting her onto the bed he ripped open her side dresser and grasped the silken restraints he'd known were kept there.
He commanded her with a low and menacing growl, "Hold still," as he bound her wrists with a rapid urgency that paid no mind to finesse. The knots were crude, born of necessity rather than artistry… She was his now, and there was no chance of escape.
He vanished into the closet, a place where her private pleasures lay hidden, now subject to his marauding search. His hand, white from the tension, clasped an alloy handle, and he re-emerged as if from the shadows…a predator returning to its prize.
Shaking the tension from his arms, he advanced towards her…the metal tassels at the end of the handle whispered threats like a serpent ready to strike, announcing his impending intent. Grabbing a pair of panties from the drawer's contents sprawled across the floor he shoved them into her mouth.
She could feel the chill of alloy caress the nape of her neck and shoulders as he slowly crept the whip’s tendrils down her back…The chains he left to dangle between her thighs, barely teasing her snatch as he tried to slow his breathing.
Then…the sensation was gone. Everything fell silent and remained that way for an excruciating amount of time. She heard not even a breath slither behind her…it was if he'd vanished all together.
Her senses were taut with the straining suspense…he had honed this wait to a cruel art, each passing moment fraying her resolve until, inevitably, curiosity betrayed her.
She moved, an infinitesimal shift, driven by the desperate need to unveil his next maneuver. Yet it was enough. The moment she stirred, the biting lash of the alloy tendrils kissed her skin, a searing sting across her flesh.
A muffled yelp strained against the fabric wedged between her lips, the panties now a soaked testament to her anxiety and ***.
From the depths of her *** and ***, a groan…a sound threaded with the dark pleasure of her submission escaped him as he stood behind her. And then, without mercy, another lash sliced through the air, delivering a blow that was stark in its abruptness, in its uncompromising ***.
Once again she felt the bulging head of his cock tease her entrance. Sweet whimpers came crawling up her throat as he continued to tease and *** her. Another abrupt lash found its way searing into her inner thighs and subsequently she found herself snatched up by the hair to watch as the marks bloomed across her flesh.
Briefly she met his gaze. He wasn't snarling nor smiling. His expression haunting, neutral, almost entranced in his headspace.
It was as if each lash had transferred a portion of his emotion into her very essence. His eyes harbored no ***, no love, no concern, no happiness yet in them there was a soothing sense of pure bliss. There it was…the void…staring back at her… if for only a few moments he was allowed to be free from all thoughts and emotions…to feel absolutely nothing.
In his gaze, she was able to fully relax as well, offering her full surrender to the fleeting glimpse of the void. The hollow tranquility of their mutual escape was short lived however…as a grin slowly creeped across his face.
Although the beast had been silenced in those mere moments of her surrendered submission…it was by no means satiated.
He followed the raised welts on her skin with his tongue, a tender contrast to the previous harshness. The softness of his touch emphasized the heat of the welts, creating a tapestry of sensation that held her captive.
His journey continued until his tongue found the more sensitive regions of her flesh, teasing the entrance of her ass with deliberate hunger.
Her response was involuntary, instinctive…she gnawed at the sodden fabric between her lips, moans vibrating through the gag, each one a chorus of her ecstasy. The tracing of her plug with the precise tip of his tongue was exquisite ***, and she writhed under the skillful provocation.
But as fluidly as the sensation had begun, it ceased. He withdrew the plug with a deliberate carelessness that left her momentarily hollow before the void was ripped apart by the searing whip.
The lash engulfed her back, a firebrand that expanded its reach across her skin. The crack split the silence…a herald of ***…and the bite that followed coerced a new tapestry of red upon her skin, one that no tongue could soothe.
The abrupt shock ripped a scream from her throat that caused the panties to crawl from her mouth.
Casting the whip aside as to prevent any uncontrolled chaos he snatched her by the nape of the neck.
“Fuck!” she screamed.
“Not yet…” came his answer, followed by another command to run.
She knew better than to physically hesitate at this point and yet a whimpering “No" of a plea fell from her lips as she struggled to make her way bound off of the bed.
He chuckled in amusement at her writhing form as it slumped off the bed and onto the floor in an attempt to escape.
"There's no running, you idiot. Look at your pathetic attempts." Laughter, callous and taunting, followed as he pressed her face against the rough fabric of the carpet, his actions uncompromising.
With calculated patience, he introduced a lubricant into her exposed and yielding entrance, the cool slickness of the liquid promising more to come.
It traced a chilling path down her trembling thighs as she complied with his stern command, "Stand up." Her movements were clumsy as the cold liquid caressed her canal, it dribbled down her thighs as she fumbled awkwardly to her knees.
Without a moment's reprieve he snaked his hand around her throat, hoisting her up slightly as he ***d himself inside her. Her primal moans ***ed out by his hands quick snap to cover her mouth…He waited for the shaking and screaming to subside before lowering her head back down to the carpet.
Using her bondage as leverage he continued to thrust into her mercilessly, her screams now melting into ragged gasps and moans of ascending subspace.
The pleasure engulfed her mind, pounding her consciousness into a limbo where the lines between the divine and utter destruction began to blur.
Her voice, quivering with the weight of her predicament, rang forth with a mantra of gratitude amidst the chaos, a feeble attempt to find solace in surrender. "T-thank you," she murmured, the phrase spilling out relentlessly.
His inquiry was sharp with mock bewilderment, echoing in the space between them. "Thank you?" he echoed with a tainted incredulity. His voice turned to a growl, laden with scorn, as he posed the cruel rhetorical question. "For what? For using you like the little fucking whore you are, for fucking your shit up?" His fingers raked across her hips with a sadistic claim, drawing *** to the surface and leaving her branded with shallow puncture wounds.
As he wove his fingers through her hair, gripping with a *** that brooked no resistance, her body was contorted and twisted to his will. "Keep saying it, keep fucking saying it," he ordered, the command resonating with the power of his dominance.
The words became her litany, "Thank you… thank you," escaping through sobs, her tears etching lines of both *** and release upon her face.
"Fuck,” his whispered curse betrayed his precipice of control… his arousal edged to the brink by her litany of thanks, her tears, her very surrender. In a swift motion borne of his own overwhelming need, he released her, realigning himself to press against her yielding lips anew.
"Clean it off," his command was a guttural directive, rough with need, as he ***d himself into her mouth…her compliance, his for the taking. His breaths came jagged and unsteady, his claws raking across his own skin in a desperate ploy for anchorage amidst the storm of his own making.
Consumed by an insatiable hunger, the kind that gnawed at his very soul, his body quivered, every fiber straining under the intensity of his yearning. Desire coiled tightly around his reason, driving him towards the precipice of madness.
The snarl that ripped from his throat was laced with frustration and venom. "Fuck this, fuck this, and fuck you." The words were a tempest as he withdrew from her throat, leaving her gasping, her purpose momentarily abandoned.
Pacing like a caged beast, he seized a pair of scissors from the depths of the closeted craft box, his actions a chaotic whirl. With haste and a modicum of care that belied his boiling frenzy, he snipped through the restraints that bound her wrists, the blades trembling in his grasp, dangerously close to turning her flesh to ribbons.
As the silken threads and the scissors clattered against the wall, discarded remnants of their savage dance, he issued her one final, feral growl. “You think you can stop me?" "Stop me," he taunted, before lunging at her with reckless abandon.
As the maelstrom swirled, she exploded into wakefulness, the adrenaline forging clarity of purpose and power. It was survival, raw and unyielding, that electrified her muscles and sharpened her mind.
Her hand, seeking leverage, tangled fiercely into his hair, a grip both desperate and strategic. Her legs coiled tightly, knees drawing protectively forward, preparing to thrust outward. The other arm pivoted, a shield against his predatory advance, diverting his hand as it lunged for her *** throat.
Her teeth, a weapon of primitive instinct, found his flesh, sinking into his arm with ferocious precision. Guided by a blend of *** and fury, she harnessed his captured mane, twisting, forcing her knee to connect with his abdomen. The contact elicited from him a hiss…a sound that she clung to as her last efforts began to wane.
His retaliation came swift… a wedge driven between her resisting thighs, his presence an unrelenting ***. "Not even close," he whispered, the mockery a velvet cloak d***d over the cold steel of his intent. His bite on her ear was the harbinger of his imminent invasion, a firm, possessive claim before he drove himself into her core.
A scream seized the air as she grappled for purchase, nails raking his flesh, a frantic attempt to anchor herself to something, anything, in the tempest of his possession. She fought against the crushing weight that sought to envelop her, his dominance a relentless pressure that threatened to consume her very being.
“I knew you couldn't fight…why would you fight something that you were so pathetically begging for? I could sense your desperation, for this…for me…for your Master.” his voice was taunt, dripping with disdain.
He was right…she had no further protests. Slowly her legs wrapped around his waist as she pulled herself deeper into the breeding position. Her lips collided with his neck, sucking, licking and nibbling at the weathered flesh.
Her whimpers came forth, longer and more drawn out as she began climbing once more into realms of ecstasy. He could feel her grip loosening as she slipped away. His hand clasped around her throat, wrestling her breath from her lungs as she proceeded to thrash about.
"Cum, cum now," he demanded, his voice a dark incantation. "Or you'll lose consciousness trying." His words were a grim promise, a boundary set where pleasure and peril blurred.
Her compliance was not a choice but preservation. Her body stiffened, a bowstring pulled taut, as her ascent was forcibly hastened. Beneath him, she struggled, each movement an erratic dance choreographed by his accelerating thrusts into her cervix.
In her eyes, the duality of terror and anticipation mingled…he saw the abyss into which she teetered…a precipice of ecstasy she resisted to plunge from. His perception sharpened by sadistic insight, he discerned the ruse as her muscles contracted in feigned climax.
“No!” he growled as he released her throat and grabbed her by the back of the neck to watch as he carved his way in and out of her.
The sudden inflow of air was salvation, a violent rush filling her starved lungs as he crashed back into her with the relentless *** of a storm surge. In that moment she was able to let go… no longer having control over anything…her whole body began to quake violently as she shattered beneath him.
"Good girl, good fucking girl," he growled with dark satisfaction, words of perverse praise that fanned the flames of her disintegration. "Keep going... go," he ordered, the tone of his voice a rudder steering her through her surrender.
The sensation was alien, an uncharted territory where pleasure knew no bounds. The swell of her first true penetration induced climax washed over her, a deluge that cleansed years of repressed longing.
In this pivotal moment, her body capitulated, releasing waves of emotional and physical catharsis as she convulsed under him, a raw and primal dance of release.
A growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he continued to pound her relentlessly, slowly allowing his own climax to build. She still hadn't stopped shaking, her body remained out of control as he met her on the brink of ecstasy.
Finally he succumbed to his pleasure. Finding release and shooting his seed deeply into the confines of her supple cervix. Guttural moans licked her ear as the sound of his climax sent her sprawling over the edge once more as they claimed each other with mutual fervency.
As they fed each other's hunger from their own flesh the thralls of passion consumed them until they found themselves entwined together in a mass of haphazard limbs. Their bodies entangled in an aftermath of primal yearning that could only be momentarily satiated by the merging of one another.
Fingers slowly crept along skin as they relished in the taste and scent of the struggle that had previously ensued.
Legs locked around each other as laughter emerged. In the stillness, he took a pause, his gaze meandering over her features, absorbing the silent language of her sated flush…With this he gave her a sly grin, reinforcing their mutual understanding that their night together had just begun…
SavageSamOKC You definitely have a masterful way with words... You definitely have a masterful way with words...
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· 02.01.2024 4:27:03
Slipping through her window with the stealth of a predator, he was upon her at last. The anticipation and intensity of his yearning were nearly crippling, a lust so fierce it ignited his very soul with a rage like fervor.
This was her doing... his need for her was so acute it left him inflamed and Read more… weakened with desire.
As she stepped forward to embrace him, he seized her throat with unsteady hands, every ounce of his self control tested to avoid crushing her delicate windpipe.
With an effort, he eased his grasp, only to find his teeth buried in her neck with a ferocious urgency. She let out a cry as her flesh yielded slightly beneath his bite, yet this time, he refrained from consuming her entirely.
His fingernails dug into her flesh, holding her with an unyielding *** as he groaned against her neck. His mouth hung open, gasping to temper his ravenous hunger. As he licked at the mark he had created, his tongue moved with the desperate urgency of a wild beast quenching its thirst.
Her screams reverberated in the charged air as he tore off her skirt, swiftly followed by her panties. His body ached with an unnerving need, the sensation akin to the headiest of aphrodisiacs spiked with an excess of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He was *** by desire as he gripped her hair tightly and hurled her ***fully to the ground. The moment she pushed herself up and cast a backward glance at him, his last vestige of self restraint shattered.
"Look what you've done," he snarled, freeing his engorged cock from the confines of his trousers. His hand encircled her throat, the throbbing head of his manhood teasing her slick entrance. He felt her pulse racing, her breaths coming in urgent gasps.
"No, not yet," he growled, pulling back abruptly and flinging her down once again. Lunging forward with predatory grace, he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her ass, showing savage abandon as her screams filled the air and she thrashed wildly, desperate to escape.
“Shut up,” he hissed as he smacked the cheek he'd just imprinted his mark upon, using his thumb to he traced the wound. He was so close to her snatch. Despite her protests he could smell her arousal.
“Oh you like this do you? You stupid fucking whore he chuckled as he slid a finger inside of her. She was dripping wet. “Does your ass get this wet?" he said with laughter strained through clenched teeth. With swift brutality, he withdrew his finger only to drive it with unyielding *** into her ass.
"That's it…is this what you wanted?" he snarled, delivering several more stinging slaps across her ass, eliciting a tightening around his invading digit. As he slowly extracted his finger, he replaced it with a medium sized plug, securing it within her slightly gaping orifice.
He wasted no time in flipping her onto her back, his hands encircling her neck, throttling her to emphasize his commands.
"You thought you could just come around me and dangle yourself like a piece of meat? What kind of imbecilic twat begs a beast to crawl through her window?" he spat, his tone laden with ferocity. His grip shifted from her *** throat, entwining in her hair, while his other clawed hand viciously claimed her breast, kneading the soft flesh as a declaration of his dominance.
His veneer of control frayed at the edges as he watched her struggle to draw breath, each desperate gasp chipping away at his patience.
With a harsh smack to her breast, he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her abdomen, fingers digging into her ass with possessive ferocity before trailing down her thighs, leaving behind searing reminders of his touch.
His arousal, once momentarily subdued, now stirred anew…his cock twitching, throbbing, aching with a primal need. Forcing his fingers past her lips, he shoved his head between her thighs to savor her taste. Yet her teeth clamped down on his hand in defiance, and in response, he unleashed his savagery upon her thigh, his bite drawing crimson beads to the surface.
"Do you prefer this, then?" he snarled, his mouth enveloping a larger swathe of her flesh, biting down again as if to claim her very being with his predatory hunger.
His composure, precariously cobbled together with each swell of restraint, fractured at the slightest whimper, the faintest gasp that slipped from her quivering lips.
"Stop... wait, no," he commanded, his hand clamping on her face, dragging her by her delicate jawbone to her knees. The look in her eyes…wide with terror, tinged with the intoxicating haze of desire…it fueled his craze, igniting a fire within.
"Yes... fuck," he breathed out, his voice but a whisper, his grip on her face relenting as he gave it a series of light, stinging slaps.
"Yes, good..." he murmured, his hands in her hair, manipulating her upright with the ease of a puppeteer hoisting a marionette into position. He leaned close, his breath hot against the shell of her ear as he growled a sinister directive, "Now you're going to worship my cock as if your very existence depends on it…no stupid shit… Misstep, and you'll be *** for the parts you'd beg not to." His hiss was a fierce undercurrent to the threat.
The tumultuous look that flickered in her eyes as he discarded her to the ground was the potent catalyst to his madness, erasing all pretense of control. In a swift motion, he hoisted her into the air, pressing her drained body against his own relentless ***.
As he drove his cock inside her, her slick warmth enveloped him with an ease that belied the abruptness of his actions, yet the intensity of the moment left her further disoriented.
Her screams melded with the ferocity of her clawing at his back, her body convulsing, tightening around him with a powerful grip. He allowed her a few potent seconds impaled on his length before removing her, only to position her yet again.
"Now... open," he commanded, his voice brimming with dark authority as he slapped his wet cock against her flushed cheeks. Impatience was unnecessary…he plunged into the depths of her throat amidst her heaving breaths.
His relentless thrusts pounded against her, each motion deeper into the cavern of her throat, each sound of her ***d sobs and gags fueling his rampant desire.
"Are you okay?" he purred, amusement lacing his tone, an echo of concern merely a shadow within his chuckle. As her ragged gasps filled the air, surrender seemed to unfold across her features in the briefest of moments.
Yet, instead of a verbal response, she seized the moment to attack, her teeth sinking into the flesh at his side with a ferocity mirroring his own.
Undeterred by her biting, a primal rumble vibrated from deep within his chest. His arm slithered around her, his hand moving with deliberate intent as he slipped two fingers back into the welcoming heat of her pussy.
"You're perfect, aren't you?" he growled, his voice thick with raw appreciation and lustful dominance.
His hand withdrew only after a taste of her depths, and with a ***ful grip, he pried her off of him, her teeth reluctantly releasing their hold. She fought against his restraint, eager still to bite and suckle the flesh she had claimed as her own.
Seizing her chin with unerring precision, he loomed above her, a sardonic smile dancing across his lips as leaned over and smiled against hers.
He whispered a command…murmured like a seductive spell beckoning her to proceed as he claimed her mouth with an imposing invasion of his tongue.
Her response came without hesitation, her lips suckling at his tongue with voracious eagerness as he grappled with his own rampant desire, his hand encircling his pulsing shaft in a futile attempt to quell its insistence.
Unable to restore his sanity he thrust her away and put a barrier between them, his foot pressed firmly against her breasts.
“Run…” he commanded.
He watched as she slowly scampered to her knees.
“Not fast enough!” he growled, lashing out at her with aimless limbs swiping and colliding with her chin and tender abdomen.
The jarr to her face ignited her sense of self preservation and she darted quickly for the door. It took everything within him to even give her a few seconds head start.
“One…two…” he managed before bolting through the doorway after her.
He didn't care about the hunt nor the chase, he'd been hunting her for months and now…he would finally have her.
The family dog took pursuit as well, concerned about the commotion. As he caught up to her quickly and wrapped one hand around her neck and another over her mouth, her canine companion knew by the scent in the air that this wasn't the time to intervene, this was raw nature at its finest.
The dog pounced around them excitedly before bolting back onto the sofa, settling down as he dragged her back through the hallway and returned her to the bedroom.
Casting her onto the bed he ripped open her side dresser and grasped the silken restraints he'd known were kept there.
He commanded her with a low and menacing growl, "Hold still," as he bound her wrists with a rapid urgency that paid no mind to finesse. The knots were crude, born of necessity rather than artistry… She was his now, and there was no chance of escape.
He vanished into the closet, a place where her private pleasures lay hidden, now subject to his marauding search. His hand, white from the tension, clasped an alloy handle, and he re-emerged as if from the shadows…a predator returning to its prize.
Shaking the tension from his arms, he advanced towards her…the metal tassels at the end of the handle whispered threats like a serpent ready to strike, announcing his impending intent. Grabbing a pair of panties from the drawer's contents sprawled across the floor he shoved them into her mouth.
She could feel the chill of alloy caress the nape of her neck and shoulders as he slowly crept the whip’s tendrils down her back…The chains he left to dangle between her thighs, barely teasing her snatch as he tried to slow his breathing.
Then…the sensation was gone. Everything fell silent and remained that way for an excruciating amount of time. She heard not even a breath slither behind her…it was if he'd vanished all together.
Her senses were taut with the straining suspense…he had honed this wait to a cruel art, each passing moment fraying her resolve until, inevitably, curiosity betrayed her.
She moved, an infinitesimal shift, driven by the desperate need to unveil his next maneuver. Yet it was enough. The moment she stirred, the biting lash of the alloy tendrils kissed her skin, a searing sting across her flesh.
A muffled yelp strained against the fabric wedged between her lips, the panties now a soaked testament to her anxiety and ***.
From the depths of her *** and ***, a groan…a sound threaded with the dark pleasure of her submission escaped him as he stood behind her. And then, without mercy, another lash sliced through the air, delivering a blow that was stark in its abruptness, in its uncompromising ***.
Once again she felt the bulging head of his cock tease her entrance. Sweet whimpers came crawling up her throat as he continued to tease and *** her. Another abrupt lash found its way searing into her inner thighs and subsequently she found herself snatched up by the hair to watch as the marks bloomed across her flesh.
Briefly she met his gaze. He wasn't snarling nor smiling. His expression haunting, neutral, almost entranced in his headspace.
It was as if each lash had transferred a portion of his emotion into her very essence. His eyes harbored no ***, no love, no concern, no happiness yet in them there was a soothing sense of pure bliss. There it was…the void…staring back at her… if for only a few moments he was allowed to be free from all thoughts and emotions…to feel absolutely nothing.
In his gaze, she was able to fully relax as well, offering her full surrender to the fleeting glimpse of the void. The hollow tranquility of their mutual escape was short lived however…as a grin slowly creeped across his face.
Although the beast had been silenced in those mere moments of her surrendered submission…it was by no means satiated.
He followed the raised welts on her skin with his tongue, a tender contrast to the previous harshness. The softness of his touch emphasized the heat of the welts, creating a tapestry of sensation that held her captive.
His journey continued until his tongue found the more sensitive regions of her flesh, teasing the entrance of her ass with deliberate hunger.
Her response was involuntary, instinctive…she gnawed at the sodden fabric between her lips, moans vibrating through the gag, each one a chorus of her ecstasy. The tracing of her plug with the precise tip of his tongue was exquisite ***, and she writhed under the skillful provocation.
But as fluidly as the sensation had begun, it ceased. He withdrew the plug with a deliberate carelessness that left her momentarily hollow before the void was ripped apart by the searing whip.
The lash engulfed her back, a firebrand that expanded its reach across her skin. The crack split the silence…a herald of ***…and the bite that followed coerced a new tapestry of red upon her skin, one that no tongue could soothe.
The abrupt shock ripped a scream from her throat that caused the panties to crawl from her mouth.
Casting the whip aside as to prevent any uncontrolled chaos he snatched her by the nape of the neck.
“Fuck!” she screamed.
“Not yet…” came his answer, followed by another command to run.
She knew better than to physically hesitate at this point and yet a whimpering “No" of a plea fell from her lips as she struggled to make her way bound off of the bed.
He chuckled in amusement at her writhing form as it slumped off the bed and onto the floor in an attempt to escape.
"There's no running, you idiot. Look at your pathetic attempts." Laughter, callous and taunting, followed as he pressed her face against the rough fabric of the carpet, his actions uncompromising.
With calculated patience, he introduced a lubricant into her exposed and yielding entrance, the cool slickness of the liquid promising more to come.
It traced a chilling path down her trembling thighs as she complied with his stern command, "Stand up." Her movements were clumsy as the cold liquid caressed her canal, it dribbled down her thighs as she fumbled awkwardly to her knees.
Without a moment's reprieve he snaked his hand around her throat, hoisting her up slightly as he ***d himself inside her. Her primal moans ***ed out by his hands quick snap to cover her mouth…He waited for the shaking and screaming to subside before lowering her head back down to the carpet.
Using her bondage as leverage he continued to thrust into her mercilessly, her screams now melting into ragged gasps and moans of ascending subspace.
The pleasure engulfed her mind, pounding her consciousness into a limbo where the lines between the divine and utter destruction began to blur.
Her voice, quivering with the weight of her predicament, rang forth with a mantra of gratitude amidst the chaos, a feeble attempt to find solace in surrender. "T-thank you," she murmured, the phrase spilling out relentlessly.
His inquiry was sharp with mock bewilderment, echoing in the space between them. "Thank you?" he echoed with a tainted incredulity. His voice turned to a growl, laden with scorn, as he posed the cruel rhetorical question. "For what? For using you like the little fucking whore you are, for fucking your shit up?" His fingers raked across her hips with a sadistic claim, drawing *** to the surface and leaving her branded with shallow puncture wounds.
As he wove his fingers through her hair, gripping with a *** that brooked no resistance, her body was contorted and twisted to his will. "Keep saying it, keep fucking saying it," he ordered, the command resonating with the power of his dominance.
The words became her litany, "Thank you… thank you," escaping through sobs, her tears etching lines of both *** and release upon her face.
"Fuck,” his whispered curse betrayed his precipice of control… his arousal edged to the brink by her litany of thanks, her tears, her very surrender. In a swift motion borne of his own overwhelming need, he released her, realigning himself to press against her yielding lips anew.
"Clean it off," his command was a guttural directive, rough with need, as he ***d himself into her mouth…her compliance, his for the taking. His breaths came jagged and unsteady, his claws raking across his own skin in a desperate ploy for anchorage amidst the storm of his own making.
Consumed by an insatiable hunger, the kind that gnawed at his very soul, his body quivered, every fiber straining under the intensity of his yearning. Desire coiled tightly around his reason, driving him towards the precipice of madness.
The snarl that ripped from his throat was laced with frustration and venom. "Fuck this, fuck this, and fuck you." The words were a tempest as he withdrew from her throat, leaving her gasping, her purpose momentarily abandoned.
Pacing like a caged beast, he seized a pair of scissors from the depths of the closeted craft box, his actions a chaotic whirl. With haste and a modicum of care that belied his boiling frenzy, he snipped through the restraints that bound her wrists, the blades trembling in his grasp, dangerously close to turning her flesh to ribbons.
As the silken threads and the scissors clattered against the wall, discarded remnants of their savage dance, he issued her one final, feral growl. “You think you can stop me?" "Stop me," he taunted, before lunging at her with reckless abandon.
As the maelstrom swirled, she exploded into wakefulness, the adrenaline forging clarity of purpose and power. It was survival, raw and unyielding, that electrified her muscles and sharpened her mind.
Her hand, seeking leverage, tangled fiercely into his hair, a grip both desperate and strategic. Her legs coiled tightly, knees drawing protectively forward, preparing to thrust outward. The other arm pivoted, a shield against his predatory advance, diverting his hand as it lunged for her *** throat.
Her teeth, a weapon of primitive instinct, found his flesh, sinking into his arm with ferocious precision. Guided by a blend of *** and fury, she harnessed his captured mane, twisting, forcing her knee to connect with his abdomen. The contact elicited from him a hiss…a sound that she clung to as her last efforts began to wane.
His retaliation came swift… a wedge driven between her resisting thighs, his presence an unrelenting ***. "Not even close," he whispered, the mockery a velvet cloak d***d over the cold steel of his intent. His bite on her ear was the harbinger of his imminent invasion, a firm, possessive claim before he drove himself into her core.
A scream seized the air as she grappled for purchase, nails raking his flesh, a frantic attempt to anchor herself to something, anything, in the tempest of his possession. She fought against the crushing weight that sought to envelop her, his dominance a relentless pressure that threatened to consume her very being.
“I knew you couldn't fight…why would you fight something that you were so pathetically begging for? I could sense your desperation, for this…for me…for your Master.” his voice was taunt, dripping with disdain.
He was right…she had no further protests. Slowly her legs wrapped around his waist as she pulled herself deeper into the breeding position. Her lips collided with his neck, sucking, licking and nibbling at the weathered flesh.
Her whimpers came forth, longer and more drawn out as she began climbing once more into realms of ecstasy. He could feel her grip loosening as she slipped away. His hand clasped around her throat, wrestling her breath from her lungs as she proceeded to thrash about.
"Cum, cum now," he demanded, his voice a dark incantation. "Or you'll lose consciousness trying." His words were a grim promise, a boundary set where pleasure and peril blurred.
Her compliance was not a choice but preservation. Her body stiffened, a bowstring pulled taut, as her ascent was forcibly hastened. Beneath him, she struggled, each movement an erratic dance choreographed by his accelerating thrusts into her cervix.
In her eyes, the duality of terror and anticipation mingled…he saw the abyss into which she teetered…a precipice of ecstasy she resisted to plunge from. His perception sharpened by sadistic insight, he discerned the ruse as her muscles contracted in feigned climax.
“No!” he growled as he released her throat and grabbed her by the back of the neck to watch as he carved his way in and out of her.
The sudden inflow of air was salvation, a violent rush filling her starved lungs as he crashed back into her with the relentless *** of a storm surge. In that moment she was able to let go… no longer having control over anything…her whole body began to quake violently as she shattered beneath him.
"Good girl, good fucking girl," he growled with dark satisfaction, words of perverse praise that fanned the flames of her disintegration. "Keep going... go," he ordered, the tone of his voice a rudder steering her through her surrender.
The sensation was alien, an uncharted territory where pleasure knew no bounds. The swell of her first true penetration induced climax washed over her, a deluge that cleansed years of repressed longing.
In this pivotal moment, her body capitulated, releasing waves of emotional and physical catharsis as she convulsed under him, a raw and primal dance of release.
A growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he continued to pound her relentlessly, slowly allowing his own climax to build. She still hadn't stopped shaking, her body remained out of control as he met her on the brink of ecstasy.
Finally he succumbed to his pleasure. Finding release and shooting his seed deeply into the confines of her supple cervix. Guttural moans licked her ear as the sound of his climax sent her sprawling over the edge once more as they claimed each other with mutual fervency.
As they fed each other's hunger from their own flesh the thralls of passion consumed them until they found themselves entwined together in a mass of haphazard limbs. Their bodies entangled in an aftermath of primal yearning that could only be momentarily satiated by the merging of one another.
Fingers slowly crept along skin as they relished in the taste and scent of the struggle that had previously ensued.
Legs locked around each other as laughter emerged. In the stillness, he took a pause, his gaze meandering over her features, absorbing the silent language of her sated flush…With this he gave her a sly grin, reinforcing their mutual understanding that their night together had just begun…
This was her doing... his need for her was so acute it left him inflamed and Read more… weakened with desire.
As she stepped forward to embrace him, he seized her throat with unsteady hands, every ounce of his self control tested to avoid crushing her delicate windpipe.
With an effort, he eased his grasp, only to find his teeth buried in her neck with a ferocious urgency. She let out a cry as her flesh yielded slightly beneath his bite, yet this time, he refrained from consuming her entirely.
His fingernails dug into her flesh, holding her with an unyielding *** as he groaned against her neck. His mouth hung open, gasping to temper his ravenous hunger. As he licked at the mark he had created, his tongue moved with the desperate urgency of a wild beast quenching its thirst.
Her screams reverberated in the charged air as he tore off her skirt, swiftly followed by her panties. His body ached with an unnerving need, the sensation akin to the headiest of aphrodisiacs spiked with an excess of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He was *** by desire as he gripped her hair tightly and hurled her ***fully to the ground. The moment she pushed herself up and cast a backward glance at him, his last vestige of self restraint shattered.
"Look what you've done," he snarled, freeing his engorged cock from the confines of his trousers. His hand encircled her throat, the throbbing head of his manhood teasing her slick entrance. He felt her pulse racing, her breaths coming in urgent gasps.
"No, not yet," he growled, pulling back abruptly and flinging her down once again. Lunging forward with predatory grace, he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her ass, showing savage abandon as her screams filled the air and she thrashed wildly, desperate to escape.
“Shut up,” he hissed as he smacked the cheek he'd just imprinted his mark upon, using his thumb to he traced the wound. He was so close to her snatch. Despite her protests he could smell her arousal.
“Oh you like this do you? You stupid fucking whore he chuckled as he slid a finger inside of her. She was dripping wet. “Does your ass get this wet?" he said with laughter strained through clenched teeth. With swift brutality, he withdrew his finger only to drive it with unyielding *** into her ass.
"That's it…is this what you wanted?" he snarled, delivering several more stinging slaps across her ass, eliciting a tightening around his invading digit. As he slowly extracted his finger, he replaced it with a medium sized plug, securing it within her slightly gaping orifice.
He wasted no time in flipping her onto her back, his hands encircling her neck, throttling her to emphasize his commands.
"You thought you could just come around me and dangle yourself like a piece of meat? What kind of imbecilic twat begs a beast to crawl through her window?" he spat, his tone laden with ferocity. His grip shifted from her *** throat, entwining in her hair, while his other clawed hand viciously claimed her breast, kneading the soft flesh as a declaration of his dominance.
His veneer of control frayed at the edges as he watched her struggle to draw breath, each desperate gasp chipping away at his patience.
With a harsh smack to her breast, he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her abdomen, fingers digging into her ass with possessive ferocity before trailing down her thighs, leaving behind searing reminders of his touch.
His arousal, once momentarily subdued, now stirred anew…his cock twitching, throbbing, aching with a primal need. Forcing his fingers past her lips, he shoved his head between her thighs to savor her taste. Yet her teeth clamped down on his hand in defiance, and in response, he unleashed his savagery upon her thigh, his bite drawing crimson beads to the surface.
"Do you prefer this, then?" he snarled, his mouth enveloping a larger swathe of her flesh, biting down again as if to claim her very being with his predatory hunger.
His composure, precariously cobbled together with each swell of restraint, fractured at the slightest whimper, the faintest gasp that slipped from her quivering lips.
"Stop... wait, no," he commanded, his hand clamping on her face, dragging her by her delicate jawbone to her knees. The look in her eyes…wide with terror, tinged with the intoxicating haze of desire…it fueled his craze, igniting a fire within.
"Yes... fuck," he breathed out, his voice but a whisper, his grip on her face relenting as he gave it a series of light, stinging slaps.
"Yes, good..." he murmured, his hands in her hair, manipulating her upright with the ease of a puppeteer hoisting a marionette into position. He leaned close, his breath hot against the shell of her ear as he growled a sinister directive, "Now you're going to worship my cock as if your very existence depends on it…no stupid shit… Misstep, and you'll be *** for the parts you'd beg not to." His hiss was a fierce undercurrent to the threat.
The tumultuous look that flickered in her eyes as he discarded her to the ground was the potent catalyst to his madness, erasing all pretense of control. In a swift motion, he hoisted her into the air, pressing her drained body against his own relentless ***.
As he drove his cock inside her, her slick warmth enveloped him with an ease that belied the abruptness of his actions, yet the intensity of the moment left her further disoriented.
Her screams melded with the ferocity of her clawing at his back, her body convulsing, tightening around him with a powerful grip. He allowed her a few potent seconds impaled on his length before removing her, only to position her yet again.
"Now... open," he commanded, his voice brimming with dark authority as he slapped his wet cock against her flushed cheeks. Impatience was unnecessary…he plunged into the depths of her throat amidst her heaving breaths.
His relentless thrusts pounded against her, each motion deeper into the cavern of her throat, each sound of her ***d sobs and gags fueling his rampant desire.
"Are you okay?" he purred, amusement lacing his tone, an echo of concern merely a shadow within his chuckle. As her ragged gasps filled the air, surrender seemed to unfold across her features in the briefest of moments.
Yet, instead of a verbal response, she seized the moment to attack, her teeth sinking into the flesh at his side with a ferocity mirroring his own.
Undeterred by her biting, a primal rumble vibrated from deep within his chest. His arm slithered around her, his hand moving with deliberate intent as he slipped two fingers back into the welcoming heat of her pussy.
"You're perfect, aren't you?" he growled, his voice thick with raw appreciation and lustful dominance.
His hand withdrew only after a taste of her depths, and with a ***ful grip, he pried her off of him, her teeth reluctantly releasing their hold. She fought against his restraint, eager still to bite and suckle the flesh she had claimed as her own.
Seizing her chin with unerring precision, he loomed above her, a sardonic smile dancing across his lips as leaned over and smiled against hers.
He whispered a command…murmured like a seductive spell beckoning her to proceed as he claimed her mouth with an imposing invasion of his tongue.
Her response came without hesitation, her lips suckling at his tongue with voracious eagerness as he grappled with his own rampant desire, his hand encircling his pulsing shaft in a futile attempt to quell its insistence.
Unable to restore his sanity he thrust her away and put a barrier between them, his foot pressed firmly against her breasts.
“Run…” he commanded.
He watched as she slowly scampered to her knees.
“Not fast enough!” he growled, lashing out at her with aimless limbs swiping and colliding with her chin and tender abdomen.
The jarr to her face ignited her sense of self preservation and she darted quickly for the door. It took everything within him to even give her a few seconds head start.
“One…two…” he managed before bolting through the doorway after her.
He didn't care about the hunt nor the chase, he'd been hunting her for months and now…he would finally have her.
The family dog took pursuit as well, concerned about the commotion. As he caught up to her quickly and wrapped one hand around her neck and another over her mouth, her canine companion knew by the scent in the air that this wasn't the time to intervene, this was raw nature at its finest.
The dog pounced around them excitedly before bolting back onto the sofa, settling down as he dragged her back through the hallway and returned her to the bedroom.
Casting her onto the bed he ripped open her side dresser and grasped the silken restraints he'd known were kept there.
He commanded her with a low and menacing growl, "Hold still," as he bound her wrists with a rapid urgency that paid no mind to finesse. The knots were crude, born of necessity rather than artistry… She was his now, and there was no chance of escape.
He vanished into the closet, a place where her private pleasures lay hidden, now subject to his marauding search. His hand, white from the tension, clasped an alloy handle, and he re-emerged as if from the shadows…a predator returning to its prize.
Shaking the tension from his arms, he advanced towards her…the metal tassels at the end of the handle whispered threats like a serpent ready to strike, announcing his impending intent. Grabbing a pair of panties from the drawer's contents sprawled across the floor he shoved them into her mouth.
She could feel the chill of alloy caress the nape of her neck and shoulders as he slowly crept the whip’s tendrils down her back…The chains he left to dangle between her thighs, barely teasing her snatch as he tried to slow his breathing.
Then…the sensation was gone. Everything fell silent and remained that way for an excruciating amount of time. She heard not even a breath slither behind her…it was if he'd vanished all together.
Her senses were taut with the straining suspense…he had honed this wait to a cruel art, each passing moment fraying her resolve until, inevitably, curiosity betrayed her.
She moved, an infinitesimal shift, driven by the desperate need to unveil his next maneuver. Yet it was enough. The moment she stirred, the biting lash of the alloy tendrils kissed her skin, a searing sting across her flesh.
A muffled yelp strained against the fabric wedged between her lips, the panties now a soaked testament to her anxiety and ***.
From the depths of her *** and ***, a groan…a sound threaded with the dark pleasure of her submission escaped him as he stood behind her. And then, without mercy, another lash sliced through the air, delivering a blow that was stark in its abruptness, in its uncompromising ***.
Once again she felt the bulging head of his cock tease her entrance. Sweet whimpers came crawling up her throat as he continued to tease and *** her. Another abrupt lash found its way searing into her inner thighs and subsequently she found herself snatched up by the hair to watch as the marks bloomed across her flesh.
Briefly she met his gaze. He wasn't snarling nor smiling. His expression haunting, neutral, almost entranced in his headspace.
It was as if each lash had transferred a portion of his emotion into her very essence. His eyes harbored no ***, no love, no concern, no happiness yet in them there was a soothing sense of pure bliss. There it was…the void…staring back at her… if for only a few moments he was allowed to be free from all thoughts and emotions…to feel absolutely nothing.
In his gaze, she was able to fully relax as well, offering her full surrender to the fleeting glimpse of the void. The hollow tranquility of their mutual escape was short lived however…as a grin slowly creeped across his face.
Although the beast had been silenced in those mere moments of her surrendered submission…it was by no means satiated.
He followed the raised welts on her skin with his tongue, a tender contrast to the previous harshness. The softness of his touch emphasized the heat of the welts, creating a tapestry of sensation that held her captive.
His journey continued until his tongue found the more sensitive regions of her flesh, teasing the entrance of her ass with deliberate hunger.
Her response was involuntary, instinctive…she gnawed at the sodden fabric between her lips, moans vibrating through the gag, each one a chorus of her ecstasy. The tracing of her plug with the precise tip of his tongue was exquisite ***, and she writhed under the skillful provocation.
But as fluidly as the sensation had begun, it ceased. He withdrew the plug with a deliberate carelessness that left her momentarily hollow before the void was ripped apart by the searing whip.
The lash engulfed her back, a firebrand that expanded its reach across her skin. The crack split the silence…a herald of ***…and the bite that followed coerced a new tapestry of red upon her skin, one that no tongue could soothe.
The abrupt shock ripped a scream from her throat that caused the panties to crawl from her mouth.
Casting the whip aside as to prevent any uncontrolled chaos he snatched her by the nape of the neck.
“Fuck!” she screamed.
“Not yet…” came his answer, followed by another command to run.
She knew better than to physically hesitate at this point and yet a whimpering “No" of a plea fell from her lips as she struggled to make her way bound off of the bed.
He chuckled in amusement at her writhing form as it slumped off the bed and onto the floor in an attempt to escape.
"There's no running, you idiot. Look at your pathetic attempts." Laughter, callous and taunting, followed as he pressed her face against the rough fabric of the carpet, his actions uncompromising.
With calculated patience, he introduced a lubricant into her exposed and yielding entrance, the cool slickness of the liquid promising more to come.
It traced a chilling path down her trembling thighs as she complied with his stern command, "Stand up." Her movements were clumsy as the cold liquid caressed her canal, it dribbled down her thighs as she fumbled awkwardly to her knees.
Without a moment's reprieve he snaked his hand around her throat, hoisting her up slightly as he ***d himself inside her. Her primal moans ***ed out by his hands quick snap to cover her mouth…He waited for the shaking and screaming to subside before lowering her head back down to the carpet.
Using her bondage as leverage he continued to thrust into her mercilessly, her screams now melting into ragged gasps and moans of ascending subspace.
The pleasure engulfed her mind, pounding her consciousness into a limbo where the lines between the divine and utter destruction began to blur.
Her voice, quivering with the weight of her predicament, rang forth with a mantra of gratitude amidst the chaos, a feeble attempt to find solace in surrender. "T-thank you," she murmured, the phrase spilling out relentlessly.
His inquiry was sharp with mock bewilderment, echoing in the space between them. "Thank you?" he echoed with a tainted incredulity. His voice turned to a growl, laden with scorn, as he posed the cruel rhetorical question. "For what? For using you like the little fucking whore you are, for fucking your shit up?" His fingers raked across her hips with a sadistic claim, drawing *** to the surface and leaving her branded with shallow puncture wounds.
As he wove his fingers through her hair, gripping with a *** that brooked no resistance, her body was contorted and twisted to his will. "Keep saying it, keep fucking saying it," he ordered, the command resonating with the power of his dominance.
The words became her litany, "Thank you… thank you," escaping through sobs, her tears etching lines of both *** and release upon her face.
"Fuck,” his whispered curse betrayed his precipice of control… his arousal edged to the brink by her litany of thanks, her tears, her very surrender. In a swift motion borne of his own overwhelming need, he released her, realigning himself to press against her yielding lips anew.
"Clean it off," his command was a guttural directive, rough with need, as he ***d himself into her mouth…her compliance, his for the taking. His breaths came jagged and unsteady, his claws raking across his own skin in a desperate ploy for anchorage amidst the storm of his own making.
Consumed by an insatiable hunger, the kind that gnawed at his very soul, his body quivered, every fiber straining under the intensity of his yearning. Desire coiled tightly around his reason, driving him towards the precipice of madness.
The snarl that ripped from his throat was laced with frustration and venom. "Fuck this, fuck this, and fuck you." The words were a tempest as he withdrew from her throat, leaving her gasping, her purpose momentarily abandoned.
Pacing like a caged beast, he seized a pair of scissors from the depths of the closeted craft box, his actions a chaotic whirl. With haste and a modicum of care that belied his boiling frenzy, he snipped through the restraints that bound her wrists, the blades trembling in his grasp, dangerously close to turning her flesh to ribbons.
As the silken threads and the scissors clattered against the wall, discarded remnants of their savage dance, he issued her one final, feral growl. “You think you can stop me?" "Stop me," he taunted, before lunging at her with reckless abandon.
As the maelstrom swirled, she exploded into wakefulness, the adrenaline forging clarity of purpose and power. It was survival, raw and unyielding, that electrified her muscles and sharpened her mind.
Her hand, seeking leverage, tangled fiercely into his hair, a grip both desperate and strategic. Her legs coiled tightly, knees drawing protectively forward, preparing to thrust outward. The other arm pivoted, a shield against his predatory advance, diverting his hand as it lunged for her *** throat.
Her teeth, a weapon of primitive instinct, found his flesh, sinking into his arm with ferocious precision. Guided by a blend of *** and fury, she harnessed his captured mane, twisting, forcing her knee to connect with his abdomen. The contact elicited from him a hiss…a sound that she clung to as her last efforts began to wane.
His retaliation came swift… a wedge driven between her resisting thighs, his presence an unrelenting ***. "Not even close," he whispered, the mockery a velvet cloak d***d over the cold steel of his intent. His bite on her ear was the harbinger of his imminent invasion, a firm, possessive claim before he drove himself into her core.
A scream seized the air as she grappled for purchase, nails raking his flesh, a frantic attempt to anchor herself to something, anything, in the tempest of his possession. She fought against the crushing weight that sought to envelop her, his dominance a relentless pressure that threatened to consume her very being.
“I knew you couldn't fight…why would you fight something that you were so pathetically begging for? I could sense your desperation, for this…for me…for your Master.” his voice was taunt, dripping with disdain.
He was right…she had no further protests. Slowly her legs wrapped around his waist as she pulled herself deeper into the breeding position. Her lips collided with his neck, sucking, licking and nibbling at the weathered flesh.
Her whimpers came forth, longer and more drawn out as she began climbing once more into realms of ecstasy. He could feel her grip loosening as she slipped away. His hand clasped around her throat, wrestling her breath from her lungs as she proceeded to thrash about.
"Cum, cum now," he demanded, his voice a dark incantation. "Or you'll lose consciousness trying." His words were a grim promise, a boundary set where pleasure and peril blurred.
Her compliance was not a choice but preservation. Her body stiffened, a bowstring pulled taut, as her ascent was forcibly hastened. Beneath him, she struggled, each movement an erratic dance choreographed by his accelerating thrusts into her cervix.
In her eyes, the duality of terror and anticipation mingled…he saw the abyss into which she teetered…a precipice of ecstasy she resisted to plunge from. His perception sharpened by sadistic insight, he discerned the ruse as her muscles contracted in feigned climax.
“No!” he growled as he released her throat and grabbed her by the back of the neck to watch as he carved his way in and out of her.
The sudden inflow of air was salvation, a violent rush filling her starved lungs as he crashed back into her with the relentless *** of a storm surge. In that moment she was able to let go… no longer having control over anything…her whole body began to quake violently as she shattered beneath him.
"Good girl, good fucking girl," he growled with dark satisfaction, words of perverse praise that fanned the flames of her disintegration. "Keep going... go," he ordered, the tone of his voice a rudder steering her through her surrender.
The sensation was alien, an uncharted territory where pleasure knew no bounds. The swell of her first true penetration induced climax washed over her, a deluge that cleansed years of repressed longing.
In this pivotal moment, her body capitulated, releasing waves of emotional and physical catharsis as she convulsed under him, a raw and primal dance of release.
A growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he continued to pound her relentlessly, slowly allowing his own climax to build. She still hadn't stopped shaking, her body remained out of control as he met her on the brink of ecstasy.
Finally he succumbed to his pleasure. Finding release and shooting his seed deeply into the confines of her supple cervix. Guttural moans licked her ear as the sound of his climax sent her sprawling over the edge once more as they claimed each other with mutual fervency.
As they fed each other's hunger from their own flesh the thralls of passion consumed them until they found themselves entwined together in a mass of haphazard limbs. Their bodies entangled in an aftermath of primal yearning that could only be momentarily satiated by the merging of one another.
Fingers slowly crept along skin as they relished in the taste and scent of the struggle that had previously ensued.
Legs locked around each other as laughter emerged. In the stillness, he took a pause, his gaze meandering over her features, absorbing the silent language of her sated flush…With this he gave her a sly grin, reinforcing their mutual understanding that their night together had just begun…
LikeMatthewJDB96, Stinger459and 1 more…
Fuck around and find out ?
Please ?
I'm pretty much here to vent via writing and to coax a big beautiful beast in through my window so I may keep Him in my metaphorical basement indefinitely.
(Sapiophile and Demisexual)
There's quite a bit to be said about me... but feel free to ask anything. Read more… Keep in mind though that if you initiate conversation with sexual undertones it's extremely unlikely that you'll get a response from me. Yep...
Please ?
I'm pretty much here to vent via writing and to coax a big beautiful beast in through my window so I may keep Him in my metaphorical basement indefinitely.
(Sapiophile and Demisexual)
There's quite a bit to be said about me... but feel free to ask anything. Read more… Keep in mind though that if you initiate conversation with sexual undertones it's extremely unlikely that you'll get a response from me. Yep...
A slave without limits....
With measured steps, He closes the distance between them, His hands clasping a collar…its significance immeasurable in comparison to its weight. His face is alight with fervent anticipation, His heart buoyant with the prospect of her acquiescence.
"It is time," He asserts, His voice brimming with Read more…conviction, I have found you…unfettered by hesitation, the one who will transcend all to cement her loyalty."
She listens, her soul engrained with veneration, ready to bend to His will, confident in the belief that, though His ways are enshrouded in mayhem, malice is not His essence.
"Ascend," He commands, His voice the key to her chains. He guides her through a serpentine corridor that culminates in a doorway, beyond which lies a cavern…the dwelling of an unspeakable abomination, the altar upon which her devotion will be proved.
In front of her, shaped from an amalgamation of carcasses and sewn together with coarse, raven hair a behemoth slumbers.
Its hide crawls with vermin that feast on the rot festering beneath its open sores. Its breath reeks of putrid flesh, while its three lacerated tongues, ravenous for the anguish they savor, twitch with a perverse sensuality.
Upon it, diseased flesh sloughs off in chunks, pooling at its claws, revealing squirming innards beneath, its barbed entrails writhe in agony seeking escape.
Its eyes snap open, revealing orbs that are clouded over with milky cataracts. They are a mirror of mortality reflecting her visage with vile intentions, in them her own body lies severed into a dismembered echo of the grace of life.
Its previously gaping maw now wretches wide to bring forth a primal scream, a cry that transcends anguish, a collective of lamentations torn from the throats of countless mothers, each holding in their arms the cold, still forms of their beloved ***.
She gazes upon the beast before her, not borne of hell, no…this beast is hell incarnate, a corporeal rendering of the inferno that bellows beneath the veneer of existence.
"Approach and kneel before the beast," He intones solemnly, His voice echoing off the stone walls. "For all offerings are built upon sacrifice."
The sole pathway to the terror is littered with the discarded husks of those who once transgressed, whose misdeeds laid them bare as offerings to atone for their affronts. Their flesh torn asunder, they are now but fractured relics.
As she slowly approaches, the beast grows quiet, its primal scream now replaced with a slow rhythmic beeping, each tone a stark reminder of breath and pulse… an electronic echo of a living heart's cadence within the hush of a hospital room.
With each step, she feels the chilling embrace of the expired, their hands caressing her limbs in death's cold grip, the vile snap of ribs underfoot weaving a tapestry of destruction in her wake. She heeds not the wails of these bygone sinners, her vision solely encompassing the gargantuan terror before her. Reaching the beast's shadow, she genuflects in solemn offering, her every fiber resolute, presenting herself as a tribute.
As both knees kiss the ground, the creature implodes, collapsing inward into a voracious void, the terror it evokes is no longer bound by the chains of flesh and sinew.
It becomes the penultimate ***….the unknown, a chasm devoid of light, expectation, or conjecture. Kneeling on the precipice of this event horizon she moves to cast her form into it's unfathomable abyss.
"No," comes His stern rebuff. "Your offering, while noble, is not what this abomination seeks."
A second presence echoes her own, its steps faltering in the dim light. Alongside her...eyes appear, ones that brim with purity… untouched by corruption, a shining beacon of innocence. She must now cast this untouched soul into the beckoning void, serving as the oblation to this malevolent deity within the gloom. She, the executor of a grim command.
As she beheld the untainted, her heart plummeted, engulfed by a petrifying dread at merely the notion of such an unblemished spirit tainted by this inferno's touch…a tableau of virulent despair. The zenith of subservience had long been her singular desire, yet ***ring into the eyes of the guiltless, she discerned no blight, not a smear of sin clamoring for redemption.
Her breath stalled in her throat, a roiling nausea seizing her as the precipice of commitment loomed…one final act, one concealed truth, a secrecy to end all secrets. Her arms encircled the innocent with a tremble…the verge of proof, the consummation of allegiance was within her grasp.
Yet she wavered, for the brink was a mirage…a lure to a fallacy of limitlessness. With a tender embrace, she soothed the unmarred and unfettered them from the bonds of potential sacrifice.
"No," she murmured, a gentle defiance breaching the quiet. "True servitude knows its boundaries…that is no illusion, but reality."
In her repudiation lay her sovereignty, her spirit unshackled. Thus, she turned her back on the path of illusory devotion and treaded her way home, no longer a supplicant but a woman liberated.
"It is time," He asserts, His voice brimming with Read more…conviction, I have found you…unfettered by hesitation, the one who will transcend all to cement her loyalty."
She listens, her soul engrained with veneration, ready to bend to His will, confident in the belief that, though His ways are enshrouded in mayhem, malice is not His essence.
"Ascend," He commands, His voice the key to her chains. He guides her through a serpentine corridor that culminates in a doorway, beyond which lies a cavern…the dwelling of an unspeakable abomination, the altar upon which her devotion will be proved.
In front of her, shaped from an amalgamation of carcasses and sewn together with coarse, raven hair a behemoth slumbers.
Its hide crawls with vermin that feast on the rot festering beneath its open sores. Its breath reeks of putrid flesh, while its three lacerated tongues, ravenous for the anguish they savor, twitch with a perverse sensuality.
Upon it, diseased flesh sloughs off in chunks, pooling at its claws, revealing squirming innards beneath, its barbed entrails writhe in agony seeking escape.
Its eyes snap open, revealing orbs that are clouded over with milky cataracts. They are a mirror of mortality reflecting her visage with vile intentions, in them her own body lies severed into a dismembered echo of the grace of life.
Its previously gaping maw now wretches wide to bring forth a primal scream, a cry that transcends anguish, a collective of lamentations torn from the throats of countless mothers, each holding in their arms the cold, still forms of their beloved ***.
She gazes upon the beast before her, not borne of hell, no…this beast is hell incarnate, a corporeal rendering of the inferno that bellows beneath the veneer of existence.
"Approach and kneel before the beast," He intones solemnly, His voice echoing off the stone walls. "For all offerings are built upon sacrifice."
The sole pathway to the terror is littered with the discarded husks of those who once transgressed, whose misdeeds laid them bare as offerings to atone for their affronts. Their flesh torn asunder, they are now but fractured relics.
As she slowly approaches, the beast grows quiet, its primal scream now replaced with a slow rhythmic beeping, each tone a stark reminder of breath and pulse… an electronic echo of a living heart's cadence within the hush of a hospital room.
With each step, she feels the chilling embrace of the expired, their hands caressing her limbs in death's cold grip, the vile snap of ribs underfoot weaving a tapestry of destruction in her wake. She heeds not the wails of these bygone sinners, her vision solely encompassing the gargantuan terror before her. Reaching the beast's shadow, she genuflects in solemn offering, her every fiber resolute, presenting herself as a tribute.
As both knees kiss the ground, the creature implodes, collapsing inward into a voracious void, the terror it evokes is no longer bound by the chains of flesh and sinew.
It becomes the penultimate ***….the unknown, a chasm devoid of light, expectation, or conjecture. Kneeling on the precipice of this event horizon she moves to cast her form into it's unfathomable abyss.
"No," comes His stern rebuff. "Your offering, while noble, is not what this abomination seeks."
A second presence echoes her own, its steps faltering in the dim light. Alongside her...eyes appear, ones that brim with purity… untouched by corruption, a shining beacon of innocence. She must now cast this untouched soul into the beckoning void, serving as the oblation to this malevolent deity within the gloom. She, the executor of a grim command.
As she beheld the untainted, her heart plummeted, engulfed by a petrifying dread at merely the notion of such an unblemished spirit tainted by this inferno's touch…a tableau of virulent despair. The zenith of subservience had long been her singular desire, yet ***ring into the eyes of the guiltless, she discerned no blight, not a smear of sin clamoring for redemption.
Her breath stalled in her throat, a roiling nausea seizing her as the precipice of commitment loomed…one final act, one concealed truth, a secrecy to end all secrets. Her arms encircled the innocent with a tremble…the verge of proof, the consummation of allegiance was within her grasp.
Yet she wavered, for the brink was a mirage…a lure to a fallacy of limitlessness. With a tender embrace, she soothed the unmarred and unfettered them from the bonds of potential sacrifice.
"No," she murmured, a gentle defiance breaching the quiet. "True servitude knows its boundaries…that is no illusion, but reality."
In her repudiation lay her sovereignty, her spirit unshackled. Thus, she turned her back on the path of illusory devotion and treaded her way home, no longer a supplicant but a woman liberated.
Sissyboiashley79 I love and want to be a slave I love and want to be a slave
Like
· 27.01.2024 9:59:59
Scooby-9068 I'm a slave who ready for a mistress I'm a slave who ready for a mistress
LikeSissyboiashley79
· 04.01.2024 19:27:49
SwissArmySwitch Amazing chapter! Amazing chapter!
Like
· 24.12.2023 4:55:31
Show more
3 of 4
**TW** Hunt of the Prankish Predator… 2/2
**Trigger Warning** - Reason: Knife Play
The underbrush swallows him whole, a juggernaut retreating into the wild unknown. She is left, a statue of resolve, her fingers white knuckled around the hilt of the knife. Doubts hammer her conscience…why did she embrace this folly?
Her role had always been Read more…that of the quiet conspirator, not the focal point of the hunt's lethal grace. Yet the thrill of the challenge had ensnared her wisdom… With a heaviness in her soul, she sinks to her knees, her blade carving paths in the earth, whispering secrets to the dirt of her domain, the borders of her sanctuary just a breath away.
The specter of failure looms, yet it is banished by a burgeoning self promise…a debt of fortitude she owes herself to fulfill. The murmurs of bygone huntsmen still linger, urging attempts never made. She toys with the thought of consulting the wolf, but his absence solidifies her solitary charge.
Her quarry's footsteps boom through the timberland, his profanities cutting the air in a fading cry. The fervor at the heart of his flight, the sheer exhilaration of being the coveted, lends purpose to his every bound.
With renewed tenacity, she stands, indebted to grant him this courtesy. Her blade remains embedded in the loam for she refuses to wield it …this time.
He flares with overconfidence, a beacon of haste, his pride his marquee, he will not hide... yet his uncertainty will anchor him relatively close to the well worn byways. Wisdom begs her to temper underestimation of him.
With calculated caution, she ascends the arboreal tower before her. Poised aloft, she secures her avian bone whistle to a branch, carving melodies from the zephyr's embrace.
In the distance she sees him, an image of tedium, pacing in proximity to the path's promise of safety. The woodwind annoyance of the whistle draws his fleeting attention, yet by then she is nothing more than a whisper of movement, weaving closer unseen.
In her silent pursuit, she scrutinizes his fortitude…no towering menace, but a maelstrom of muscle nonetheless. His earlier fray revealed the tempest of his fury, potent but quickly spent. She mulls the option of shocking him into a sprint, but the gory ruin he had inflicted upon a deer speaks volumes…***shed and carnage are but trifles to such a one.
In a flash of insight, she recalls the haste of his departure…no guidelines uttered, no safe words declared, no restraint placed upon the nature of their game. His ignorance of her armament…or lack thereof… could be her advantage. He knows naught but the enigmatic dance she has led thus far.
With deliberation, she reverses her steps, the deer's remains calling her to claim the antlers as her own…she sits with a small smile as she weaves them into her hair.
As dusk wraps its fingers around the woods, her ears catch the drumming of his steps, still wary, still within earshot. The stream provides her with a cloak of mud, masking her pale moonlit skin…amidst it all, the whistle singes the air with its ghostly wail, camouflaging the silence of her approach.
She senses a watchful presence, though she knows it is not his…his boasts still weave through the trees, far from where she readies her ambush.
She recognizes the crucial element as momentum. To bring him to heel requires the dance of pursuit, gravity as her unseen ally. Fortuitously, he seems enamored with the thrill of escape, the cardiac rhythm of feet pounding earth. Inflaming his passion for the chase appears all too simple a task.
She bides her time, merging with the oncoming night, a specter lurking near the trail his restlessness will inevitably draw him to. His empathic streak will serve her well, sparking concern for her apparent absence in the all consuming darkness.
As anticipated, time weaves but twenty minutes before he surfaces, sadly a moth to the false flame of her well being. From the veil of night, she emerges…her figure minute, yet infernal in the moon's dim glow, antlers casting a chthonic visage upon the ground before him.
His intrigue mingles with an edge of dread… her capabilities, unpredictable and witnessed, threaten his nerves. The absence of her hands from view strikes a chord of alarm, conjuring visions of concealed steel.
His voice rises in a hollow jest, but the silent specter before him holds her peace, approaching with a predator's patience.
With sudden zeal, she springs forth, a wraith set loose. His heart a drumroll of primal panic, he flees with reckless abandon along the path, shunning the treacherous embrace of the wild depths.
She diverges from the chase, her pace now measured, a strategic serpent slithering through the underbrush to a vantage further along the path. His audible labors through the dark are a beacon, confirming he has adhered faithfully to the path's winding embrace.
There, she nests, still as the ancient stones, a huntress veiled in patience. As he advances into view once more, his weariness evident, his nerves only slightly frayed, she takes his measure…knowing well the sordid depths of his being offer scant room for the tremors of ***.
She unravels the antlers from her hair, the chaotic spiral of bone slipping away. They fall to the forest floor, discarded symbols of the huntress she's become. A tripwire was her initial plan, the subtle trap of the clever predator, but there's no time…she must improvise…the moment must happen now. She must be the trap.
With a guttural cry, a chilling fit of giggles, she springs from the shadows. Pursuing him as she rallies herself with words in a tongue unknown to man.
As the chorus of foreign intonations weaves through the weighty air, conjuring an intricate veil of turmoil to assail his senses. The spectral echo of the whistle finds fertile soil in his trepidation, sprouting into full blown panic as he beholds her form encased in the forest's grime, a creature unchecked, her stare kindled with a sacrilegious glow.
It's at this defining instant that his survival impulse engulfs him…he doesn't know this woman…he is consumed by the pure essence of flight born from ***…
She surges forward as his stamina wanes, a lioness in pursuit of weakened prey. His lungs heave for air, each breath a gasp for life itself. With the pantheon of trees as her witness, she leaps, hands clawing skyward to wrench a fistful of hair, grasping it at the scalp to control his fate.
Being immensely top heavy, he meets the earth in a brutal symphony of ungraceful chaos, the ground itself robbing him of breath. Before the last echo fades, she mounts his stunned form.
Meager strength becomes irrelevant as she drives her knee into his spine with all her might, her weight an anchor upon his back. Though it may not shatter bone, the impact sears into his mind, a relentless reminder of her presence.
His mouth, once howling with exertion, now gasps in silent terror as she ruthlessly stuffs fistfuls of loam into it. Each morsel of the forest floor burrows into every crevice, a suffocating tide of earth muscling its way in…an invasion more intimate and complete than any weapon's kiss. Frantic, he ***s on the gritty sediment, the taste of his own demise bitter on his tongue.
As he battles for breath, she begins wailing in depravity…"I don't want to have to do this," she screams, her voice quivering, each repetition crescendoing into a maelstrom of frantic desperation. "I don't want to have to do this." The words, laced with an unsettling blend of remorse and inevitability, thrum through him, seeping into his pores, each utterance a harbinger of dread.
The ambiguity of her claim…the uncertain horror of "this"...hangs heavy in the air. His mind races, crafting horrors too grim to bear as his imagination conjures unspeakable ends.
The *** is not in what she does, but what she might…the unknown "this" she hesitates to unleash, a peril beyond mere physical ***. It is the immeasurable weight of what lurks in the abyss of her intent that truly terrifies him.
"Yield," she screams, the word slicing through the chaos, a command that leaves no room for dissent. He writhes beneath her, desperation clawing at his thoughts as he grapples with the unknown threat looming in her warning.
As she grapples to keep his arm twisted in its unnaturally contorted position, a thin line wavers between hysteria and stark, cold terror within him. His fingers, *** and exposed, become her next target. With a deceptive touch, she aligns a branch against them, the point pressing into his skin as if it were the blade of her knife.
"I'll cut them off!!"... "Would you like them permanently inside you!? I'll see to it that your own fingers claw their way into every orifice you possess!!" she screams with malice unbeknownst to any other woman of her statue, the vile threat violating his mind with its vulgar promise.
For that scant heartbeat, his courage flickers…a desperate thought to deny her capability, to rebuff her cruel intentions. Yet her teeth sink like a vice into the yielding softness of his trunk, causing his final notion of resistance to evaporate. The bite, a tangible echo of agony, brands him forevermore with the memory of this moment…a moment where she holds not just his life but his dignity at her merciless whim.
From afar, her spectral whistle drifts, the melancholic tune warping the once tranquil forest air.
What he envisaged as a frolicsome scuffle for dominance is perverted into a chilling ordeal… his expectations have led him astray.
The unsettling realization dawns upon him…he is adrift in uncharted territories of terror, ensnared in a game far more sinister than his naive desires could have fathomed.
"Yield!" Her cry, a feral echo, reverberates through the trees. In this moment, the huntress is an ancient ***, a savage deity to whom he must submit.
He breaks, his voice a shattering declaration "OKAY OKAY WHAT THE FUCK LADY!? I YIELD!"
Her exuberance is palpable as she pops to her feet, clapping with a zest that belies the gravity of what transpired. Below her, he's a puzzle of emotions, arousal now evaporated into confusion.
With a carefree toss, she sends the branch…the symbol of her mock threat arching towards him, her departure marked by giggling.
“Where are you going, aren't you going to claim me?" He protests.
"Claim you?" she retorts, her laughter tinged with disbelief before softening into sympathy.
"No... You're not what I seek... I'm sorry…" She whispers as she disappears into the darkness.
The underbrush swallows him whole, a juggernaut retreating into the wild unknown. She is left, a statue of resolve, her fingers white knuckled around the hilt of the knife. Doubts hammer her conscience…why did she embrace this folly?
Her role had always been Read more…that of the quiet conspirator, not the focal point of the hunt's lethal grace. Yet the thrill of the challenge had ensnared her wisdom… With a heaviness in her soul, she sinks to her knees, her blade carving paths in the earth, whispering secrets to the dirt of her domain, the borders of her sanctuary just a breath away.
The specter of failure looms, yet it is banished by a burgeoning self promise…a debt of fortitude she owes herself to fulfill. The murmurs of bygone huntsmen still linger, urging attempts never made. She toys with the thought of consulting the wolf, but his absence solidifies her solitary charge.
Her quarry's footsteps boom through the timberland, his profanities cutting the air in a fading cry. The fervor at the heart of his flight, the sheer exhilaration of being the coveted, lends purpose to his every bound.
With renewed tenacity, she stands, indebted to grant him this courtesy. Her blade remains embedded in the loam for she refuses to wield it …this time.
He flares with overconfidence, a beacon of haste, his pride his marquee, he will not hide... yet his uncertainty will anchor him relatively close to the well worn byways. Wisdom begs her to temper underestimation of him.
With calculated caution, she ascends the arboreal tower before her. Poised aloft, she secures her avian bone whistle to a branch, carving melodies from the zephyr's embrace.
In the distance she sees him, an image of tedium, pacing in proximity to the path's promise of safety. The woodwind annoyance of the whistle draws his fleeting attention, yet by then she is nothing more than a whisper of movement, weaving closer unseen.
In her silent pursuit, she scrutinizes his fortitude…no towering menace, but a maelstrom of muscle nonetheless. His earlier fray revealed the tempest of his fury, potent but quickly spent. She mulls the option of shocking him into a sprint, but the gory ruin he had inflicted upon a deer speaks volumes…***shed and carnage are but trifles to such a one.
In a flash of insight, she recalls the haste of his departure…no guidelines uttered, no safe words declared, no restraint placed upon the nature of their game. His ignorance of her armament…or lack thereof… could be her advantage. He knows naught but the enigmatic dance she has led thus far.
With deliberation, she reverses her steps, the deer's remains calling her to claim the antlers as her own…she sits with a small smile as she weaves them into her hair.
As dusk wraps its fingers around the woods, her ears catch the drumming of his steps, still wary, still within earshot. The stream provides her with a cloak of mud, masking her pale moonlit skin…amidst it all, the whistle singes the air with its ghostly wail, camouflaging the silence of her approach.
She senses a watchful presence, though she knows it is not his…his boasts still weave through the trees, far from where she readies her ambush.
She recognizes the crucial element as momentum. To bring him to heel requires the dance of pursuit, gravity as her unseen ally. Fortuitously, he seems enamored with the thrill of escape, the cardiac rhythm of feet pounding earth. Inflaming his passion for the chase appears all too simple a task.
She bides her time, merging with the oncoming night, a specter lurking near the trail his restlessness will inevitably draw him to. His empathic streak will serve her well, sparking concern for her apparent absence in the all consuming darkness.
As anticipated, time weaves but twenty minutes before he surfaces, sadly a moth to the false flame of her well being. From the veil of night, she emerges…her figure minute, yet infernal in the moon's dim glow, antlers casting a chthonic visage upon the ground before him.
His intrigue mingles with an edge of dread… her capabilities, unpredictable and witnessed, threaten his nerves. The absence of her hands from view strikes a chord of alarm, conjuring visions of concealed steel.
His voice rises in a hollow jest, but the silent specter before him holds her peace, approaching with a predator's patience.
With sudden zeal, she springs forth, a wraith set loose. His heart a drumroll of primal panic, he flees with reckless abandon along the path, shunning the treacherous embrace of the wild depths.
She diverges from the chase, her pace now measured, a strategic serpent slithering through the underbrush to a vantage further along the path. His audible labors through the dark are a beacon, confirming he has adhered faithfully to the path's winding embrace.
There, she nests, still as the ancient stones, a huntress veiled in patience. As he advances into view once more, his weariness evident, his nerves only slightly frayed, she takes his measure…knowing well the sordid depths of his being offer scant room for the tremors of ***.
She unravels the antlers from her hair, the chaotic spiral of bone slipping away. They fall to the forest floor, discarded symbols of the huntress she's become. A tripwire was her initial plan, the subtle trap of the clever predator, but there's no time…she must improvise…the moment must happen now. She must be the trap.
With a guttural cry, a chilling fit of giggles, she springs from the shadows. Pursuing him as she rallies herself with words in a tongue unknown to man.
As the chorus of foreign intonations weaves through the weighty air, conjuring an intricate veil of turmoil to assail his senses. The spectral echo of the whistle finds fertile soil in his trepidation, sprouting into full blown panic as he beholds her form encased in the forest's grime, a creature unchecked, her stare kindled with a sacrilegious glow.
It's at this defining instant that his survival impulse engulfs him…he doesn't know this woman…he is consumed by the pure essence of flight born from ***…
She surges forward as his stamina wanes, a lioness in pursuit of weakened prey. His lungs heave for air, each breath a gasp for life itself. With the pantheon of trees as her witness, she leaps, hands clawing skyward to wrench a fistful of hair, grasping it at the scalp to control his fate.
Being immensely top heavy, he meets the earth in a brutal symphony of ungraceful chaos, the ground itself robbing him of breath. Before the last echo fades, she mounts his stunned form.
Meager strength becomes irrelevant as she drives her knee into his spine with all her might, her weight an anchor upon his back. Though it may not shatter bone, the impact sears into his mind, a relentless reminder of her presence.
His mouth, once howling with exertion, now gasps in silent terror as she ruthlessly stuffs fistfuls of loam into it. Each morsel of the forest floor burrows into every crevice, a suffocating tide of earth muscling its way in…an invasion more intimate and complete than any weapon's kiss. Frantic, he ***s on the gritty sediment, the taste of his own demise bitter on his tongue.
As he battles for breath, she begins wailing in depravity…"I don't want to have to do this," she screams, her voice quivering, each repetition crescendoing into a maelstrom of frantic desperation. "I don't want to have to do this." The words, laced with an unsettling blend of remorse and inevitability, thrum through him, seeping into his pores, each utterance a harbinger of dread.
The ambiguity of her claim…the uncertain horror of "this"...hangs heavy in the air. His mind races, crafting horrors too grim to bear as his imagination conjures unspeakable ends.
The *** is not in what she does, but what she might…the unknown "this" she hesitates to unleash, a peril beyond mere physical ***. It is the immeasurable weight of what lurks in the abyss of her intent that truly terrifies him.
"Yield," she screams, the word slicing through the chaos, a command that leaves no room for dissent. He writhes beneath her, desperation clawing at his thoughts as he grapples with the unknown threat looming in her warning.
As she grapples to keep his arm twisted in its unnaturally contorted position, a thin line wavers between hysteria and stark, cold terror within him. His fingers, *** and exposed, become her next target. With a deceptive touch, she aligns a branch against them, the point pressing into his skin as if it were the blade of her knife.
"I'll cut them off!!"... "Would you like them permanently inside you!? I'll see to it that your own fingers claw their way into every orifice you possess!!" she screams with malice unbeknownst to any other woman of her statue, the vile threat violating his mind with its vulgar promise.
For that scant heartbeat, his courage flickers…a desperate thought to deny her capability, to rebuff her cruel intentions. Yet her teeth sink like a vice into the yielding softness of his trunk, causing his final notion of resistance to evaporate. The bite, a tangible echo of agony, brands him forevermore with the memory of this moment…a moment where she holds not just his life but his dignity at her merciless whim.
From afar, her spectral whistle drifts, the melancholic tune warping the once tranquil forest air.
What he envisaged as a frolicsome scuffle for dominance is perverted into a chilling ordeal… his expectations have led him astray.
The unsettling realization dawns upon him…he is adrift in uncharted territories of terror, ensnared in a game far more sinister than his naive desires could have fathomed.
"Yield!" Her cry, a feral echo, reverberates through the trees. In this moment, the huntress is an ancient ***, a savage deity to whom he must submit.
He breaks, his voice a shattering declaration "OKAY OKAY WHAT THE FUCK LADY!? I YIELD!"
Her exuberance is palpable as she pops to her feet, clapping with a zest that belies the gravity of what transpired. Below her, he's a puzzle of emotions, arousal now evaporated into confusion.
With a carefree toss, she sends the branch…the symbol of her mock threat arching towards him, her departure marked by giggling.
“Where are you going, aren't you going to claim me?" He protests.
"Claim you?" she retorts, her laughter tinged with disbelief before softening into sympathy.
"No... You're not what I seek... I'm sorry…" She whispers as she disappears into the darkness.
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**TW** Hunt of the Prankish Predator… 1/2
**Trigger Warning** - Reason: Knife Play
As she's musing on her own existence, a stately wolf appears by her side, his demeanor resolute yet gentle, encased within an aura of fortified strength and unyielding self-assurance.
His journey through the woods is etched in his confident stride. As he Read more…takes a seat next to her, his presence alone is an invitation to ponder and connect.
In his gaze, she seeks the hidden reservoirs of sagacity, while close behind her, unnoticed, a capricious creature draws near.
"FANCY A BOWL OF STEW?" the approaching beast proclaims as he lugs a massive buck, an offering of sorts, in his wake.
Her reaction is one of surprise, a glimmer of mirth flickering in her eyes. With a cautious wit, she responds, “I have a taste for such fare, provided it harbors no poison!"
His chuckle reverberates through the woods, a toast to risk-taking, "Life's too short for constant wariness…what better way to strengthen our resolve than by braving the occasional peril?"
She reaches out to the wolf beside her, lightly touching his paw…an audacious but not overbearing act, conveying support and a silent vow to return to his side at some point to delve into his depths.
Oblivious to his surroundings, the jovial brute throws himself into the task of dressing the buck, his eyes sparkling with the shadowed delight of the grotesque. His fervor for the recent chase pulses through him, electrifying and unfinished…an appetite not yet quenched. She observes the ritual of his meal's preparation, a muted fascination in her gaze.
"POTATOES!" he bellows suddenly, turning to her with a fervency that startles yet doesn't threaten. Brandishing his hunter's blade as he points, he makes his request known.
She meets his energetic demand with a slow blink and an amused, knowing smile, before seamlessly transitioning to procure his desired tubers from her garden's bounty.
She plunges her nails into the earth, clawing out a selection of potatoes, a subtle smirk gracing her lips…no shadows of threat or anxiety cloud her demeanor. She rinses the harvest in the stream's cool embrace before returning to him and setting them at his feet.
"Carrots!" he commands, his tone firm.
She meets his imperious demand with a look of mild rebellion, etched with a trace of challenge. Yet, she concedes with a grave nod and revisits her verdant treasury.
Emerging once more, she brings not only the requested carrots but a bounty of celery and an assortment of aromatic herbs and spices.
"Now we're cooking," the lively beast exclaims, his grin infectious as he points the blade in her direction, acknowledging the feast taking shape.
Her observation of his actions is interrupted by her own intervention, as she draws her knife, aiming it in his direction to probe his response.
"How delightfully bold…AND KINKY," the beast declares, his countenance alight with the spark of her provocation.
"What might you accomplish with such a tool?" he chides, tossing a chunk of flesh aimlessly at her.
Silence reigns on her part as he carries on, seemingly unperturbed by her display, relegating his own knife to obscurity as he hangs the carcass aloft.
Her approach is unhurried, the knife now an extension of her will to dominate the space they share.
He pivots, his expression composed, his air untroubled, his smile warm. "Would you grace me with the honor of using your knife?" he inquires with refined civility.
Her assent is met with a swift reversal, the knife now a delicate whisper against her throat.
"Such willingness to trust," he quips, his laughter rich and foreboding, yet stripped of venom…a darker jest shared between hunters.
"I want to play a game" he states with the undertones of a question, a sly grin pulling at his lips as he indicates the ropes swaying gently from a neighboring tree…a detail she had overlooked, distracted by his earlier antics.
"No cause for alarm," he hastens to clarify, "These are for my sport, not yours…but can you even craft a proper knot?" he challenges with an impish glint in his eye.
With a flick of his wrist, her knife vanishes into the thicket and with this she feels a twinge of dismay. Her eyes stray to his knife, laying seemingly *** by his belongings.
"Dismiss that thought immediately," he commands sharply. "Unless you intend to forsake all delights to come…. Now, listen closely."
"Confine me with these ropes… invest as much time as you require to ensure my captivity… Once you deem me sufficiently detained… hasten to the forest to seek out your lost knife. If you manage to possess it before I extricate myself, then I shall willingly become your quarry."
"But," he warns, his tone laced with a hint of danger, “when the sound of my approach signals your defeat…you must evade, for the hunt will have been ignited."
She considers him quietly, her resolve forming before she echoes, "Let's play a game…" Her demeanor transforms into something more formidable, a darkness creeping across her features.
She approaches the binding with relentless attention to detail and thoroughness, each knot meticulously executed and reviewed. As she labors, the initial confidence on his face slowly diminishes, replaced by an inkling of insecurity.
“Ready?" She asks, the amusement clear in her voice. His reply is a firm "Set." Without hesitation, she orders, "Go!" and bolts into the dense thicket.
Trust in her memory guides her to the last known resting place of her knife, but her concentration is shattered by the unsettling symphony behind her…first laughter, then frustration, followed by a cacophony reminiscent of infernal fury. He's not amused anymore…
Her attention snaps back to the task at hand, the urgency renewing her resolve as she dismisses his vocal struggle. The knife is swiftly located, the lack of pursuing footsteps a small victory. Yet, a sudden hush descends, chilling her spine as apprehension tightens its grip…
Knife in hand, she risks a glance back. The scene greeting her is a testament to his brute ***…most of the ropes lay in tatters, and yet, the one encircling his torso proves to be his undoing. His formidable musculature now hinders more than helps, as he fights for freedom.
Without further pause, she closes the gap, halting any attempt on his part to untie the knot.
"That was FUN!!" she chortles, her light-heartedness a jarring juxtaposition to his irritation.
"It appears I was mistaken," he acknowledges, a subtle bow to her prowess as she carefully frees him from the rope.
A quiet spell falls over them, heavy with unvoiced thoughts, until he offers a gesture. "Behold your accolade," he says, showcasing himself with a flourish.
However, her facade is anything but amused…impassive, stern. A flicker of disquiet passes through him as she begins.
"Ready?" she purrs.
"Set," his response comes with a hint of reluctance.
"Go..." she whispers.
As she's musing on her own existence, a stately wolf appears by her side, his demeanor resolute yet gentle, encased within an aura of fortified strength and unyielding self-assurance.
His journey through the woods is etched in his confident stride. As he Read more…takes a seat next to her, his presence alone is an invitation to ponder and connect.
In his gaze, she seeks the hidden reservoirs of sagacity, while close behind her, unnoticed, a capricious creature draws near.
"FANCY A BOWL OF STEW?" the approaching beast proclaims as he lugs a massive buck, an offering of sorts, in his wake.
Her reaction is one of surprise, a glimmer of mirth flickering in her eyes. With a cautious wit, she responds, “I have a taste for such fare, provided it harbors no poison!"
His chuckle reverberates through the woods, a toast to risk-taking, "Life's too short for constant wariness…what better way to strengthen our resolve than by braving the occasional peril?"
She reaches out to the wolf beside her, lightly touching his paw…an audacious but not overbearing act, conveying support and a silent vow to return to his side at some point to delve into his depths.
Oblivious to his surroundings, the jovial brute throws himself into the task of dressing the buck, his eyes sparkling with the shadowed delight of the grotesque. His fervor for the recent chase pulses through him, electrifying and unfinished…an appetite not yet quenched. She observes the ritual of his meal's preparation, a muted fascination in her gaze.
"POTATOES!" he bellows suddenly, turning to her with a fervency that startles yet doesn't threaten. Brandishing his hunter's blade as he points, he makes his request known.
She meets his energetic demand with a slow blink and an amused, knowing smile, before seamlessly transitioning to procure his desired tubers from her garden's bounty.
She plunges her nails into the earth, clawing out a selection of potatoes, a subtle smirk gracing her lips…no shadows of threat or anxiety cloud her demeanor. She rinses the harvest in the stream's cool embrace before returning to him and setting them at his feet.
"Carrots!" he commands, his tone firm.
She meets his imperious demand with a look of mild rebellion, etched with a trace of challenge. Yet, she concedes with a grave nod and revisits her verdant treasury.
Emerging once more, she brings not only the requested carrots but a bounty of celery and an assortment of aromatic herbs and spices.
"Now we're cooking," the lively beast exclaims, his grin infectious as he points the blade in her direction, acknowledging the feast taking shape.
Her observation of his actions is interrupted by her own intervention, as she draws her knife, aiming it in his direction to probe his response.
"How delightfully bold…AND KINKY," the beast declares, his countenance alight with the spark of her provocation.
"What might you accomplish with such a tool?" he chides, tossing a chunk of flesh aimlessly at her.
Silence reigns on her part as he carries on, seemingly unperturbed by her display, relegating his own knife to obscurity as he hangs the carcass aloft.
Her approach is unhurried, the knife now an extension of her will to dominate the space they share.
He pivots, his expression composed, his air untroubled, his smile warm. "Would you grace me with the honor of using your knife?" he inquires with refined civility.
Her assent is met with a swift reversal, the knife now a delicate whisper against her throat.
"Such willingness to trust," he quips, his laughter rich and foreboding, yet stripped of venom…a darker jest shared between hunters.
"I want to play a game" he states with the undertones of a question, a sly grin pulling at his lips as he indicates the ropes swaying gently from a neighboring tree…a detail she had overlooked, distracted by his earlier antics.
"No cause for alarm," he hastens to clarify, "These are for my sport, not yours…but can you even craft a proper knot?" he challenges with an impish glint in his eye.
With a flick of his wrist, her knife vanishes into the thicket and with this she feels a twinge of dismay. Her eyes stray to his knife, laying seemingly *** by his belongings.
"Dismiss that thought immediately," he commands sharply. "Unless you intend to forsake all delights to come…. Now, listen closely."
"Confine me with these ropes… invest as much time as you require to ensure my captivity… Once you deem me sufficiently detained… hasten to the forest to seek out your lost knife. If you manage to possess it before I extricate myself, then I shall willingly become your quarry."
"But," he warns, his tone laced with a hint of danger, “when the sound of my approach signals your defeat…you must evade, for the hunt will have been ignited."
She considers him quietly, her resolve forming before she echoes, "Let's play a game…" Her demeanor transforms into something more formidable, a darkness creeping across her features.
She approaches the binding with relentless attention to detail and thoroughness, each knot meticulously executed and reviewed. As she labors, the initial confidence on his face slowly diminishes, replaced by an inkling of insecurity.
“Ready?" She asks, the amusement clear in her voice. His reply is a firm "Set." Without hesitation, she orders, "Go!" and bolts into the dense thicket.
Trust in her memory guides her to the last known resting place of her knife, but her concentration is shattered by the unsettling symphony behind her…first laughter, then frustration, followed by a cacophony reminiscent of infernal fury. He's not amused anymore…
Her attention snaps back to the task at hand, the urgency renewing her resolve as she dismisses his vocal struggle. The knife is swiftly located, the lack of pursuing footsteps a small victory. Yet, a sudden hush descends, chilling her spine as apprehension tightens its grip…
Knife in hand, she risks a glance back. The scene greeting her is a testament to his brute ***…most of the ropes lay in tatters, and yet, the one encircling his torso proves to be his undoing. His formidable musculature now hinders more than helps, as he fights for freedom.
Without further pause, she closes the gap, halting any attempt on his part to untie the knot.
"That was FUN!!" she chortles, her light-heartedness a jarring juxtaposition to his irritation.
"It appears I was mistaken," he acknowledges, a subtle bow to her prowess as she carefully frees him from the rope.
A quiet spell falls over them, heavy with unvoiced thoughts, until he offers a gesture. "Behold your accolade," he says, showcasing himself with a flourish.
However, her facade is anything but amused…impassive, stern. A flicker of disquiet passes through him as she begins.
"Ready?" she purrs.
"Set," his response comes with a hint of reluctance.
"Go..." she whispers.
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A Birthday of Apocalyptic Proportions...
She stirs from the realm of dreams, a soft yawn parting her lips as dawn's tender rays caress her face. Her robe slips, baring her shoulders to the cool whisper of morning air. She inhales deeply, the rich scent of coffee beckoning her to consciousness…yet, Read more… intermingled with it, the acrid tang of smoke. Eyes widening, she springs up, the silken fabric cascading off her in a flow of urgent motion. “What the hell is on fi-" she begins.
"Happy birthday to you..." His voice slithers into the darkness, a chilling melody that wraps around the room like a cold mist. Crouched low, a figure cradles a cake, the flickering candles casting grotesque shadows against the walls. Each note quivers with spectral dissonance, as if sung by a choir of wraiths hidden within the folds of the night. The familiar tune, now a dirge, portends an unknown fate as He continues, "Happy birthday to you..."
The timbre of His chant skews, a scant degree away from sane, each syllable laden with a funereal chill. As the melody curls into the somber air, it feels less a celebration and more a summoning…an invocation of the macabre to attend this most peculiar of birthdays.
Her response is curt, "No." However, He remains unbowed, His voice tinged with an amusement as dark as the abyss itself. "Come on…birthdays are fun," He insists, a Cheshire grin unfurling to reveal the depths of His malevolence. Her gaze falls upon the grotesque cake, its three candles a trifecta of derision. "Since I'm so generous," His voice cuts through the silence, as sharp as a knife's edge, "you are bestowed three wishes…three and only three. No loopholes for the greedy heart and thrice must your desires be spoken.”
Desperation wings her feet as she makes a dash for liberty, only to be thwarted by the sinewy appendages that He commands. They entwine her with an almost tender ferocity, a reminder of the inextricability of her situation and return her to the sanctum of the bed. There, in the shadow of her own hesitance, she is submerged in thought, hours becoming her silent sentries. Finally, the moment ripens and she leans forward, her breath a whisper against the flame, extinguishing the first candle…a beacon quenched in the ocean of choice.
“My first wish is for the end of needless suffering…if there is a kind of suffering that offers no lessons or growth, to be eradicated from the human condition. This does not remove *** or tribulation as a whole, only erases those current conditions humanity has yet to cure. This will not lead to a false sense of security and reduce humanity's drive to identify and counteract emerging adversities that are not initially recognized as needless.” She claims hesitantly.
Her inaugural wish echoes into the silence, meeting with no ripple upon the stoic surface of His face. "Next," He urges, a solitary utterance amidst the expanse of her anticipation.
She blows out the second candle…
“My second wish is for a clear cut, undivided and collective understanding of what is considered 'good' or 'better' to be instilled in the hearts of humanity. A universal agreement that brings some peace and prevents major conflict over differences in moral judgment. This does not remove freedom of will or dampen free thought, it serves as a balm in conflicts among themselves. This will not suppress individual and cultural identities, leading to an extreme loss of diversity in the complexity of ethical perspectives and philosophical approaches.” She admits with a sigh.
He inclines his head in acknowledgement, and then, with a gesture of finality, He waits patiently for her final wish.
“My final wish is for a steady seed of desire for personal and collective growth, an innate motivation to strive to achieve a world based on their universal understanding of 'good' or 'best'. This wish is to keep humanity moving forward, to evolve and improve, even in the absence of immense suffering… This will not cause minority views to be undervalued or oppressed, leading to a tyranny in which dissenting voices are silenced in the name of collective ambition.” She pauses before adding.
“Humanity will still face the struggle of accomplishing such change, they will still experience the labor ***s of productive growth. There will be new challenges that arise in consequence to such alterations in the human condition. There will still be wars, death, conflicts in opinion as to how to achieve what everyone knows is best…Yet there would be more hope that humanity could endure a bit longer with life pulling some of its punches and humans having a clear goal on what's best.”
"Very well then," He murmurs, the darkness now more pronounced with the candle's demise and the sun's meager offering scarcely lapping through the curtains. "Your wishes are granted."
Her alarm is instant, her body coiling into a visceral expression of ***…and He savors it.
"I'm just fucking around," He confesses after a time, a touch of cruelty to his confession…
“I possess no such wish granting abilities…and to indulge such fantasies would be to ignore the balance of action and consequence that rules us all."
Her whispered "Oh thank God" meets His ears, to which he deadpans, "You're welcome," depositing the cake near her coffee and vacating the room in His usual enigmatic exit.
She stirs from the realm of dreams, a soft yawn parting her lips as dawn's tender rays caress her face. Her robe slips, baring her shoulders to the cool whisper of morning air. She inhales deeply, the rich scent of coffee beckoning her to consciousness…yet, Read more… intermingled with it, the acrid tang of smoke. Eyes widening, she springs up, the silken fabric cascading off her in a flow of urgent motion. “What the hell is on fi-" she begins.
"Happy birthday to you..." His voice slithers into the darkness, a chilling melody that wraps around the room like a cold mist. Crouched low, a figure cradles a cake, the flickering candles casting grotesque shadows against the walls. Each note quivers with spectral dissonance, as if sung by a choir of wraiths hidden within the folds of the night. The familiar tune, now a dirge, portends an unknown fate as He continues, "Happy birthday to you..."
The timbre of His chant skews, a scant degree away from sane, each syllable laden with a funereal chill. As the melody curls into the somber air, it feels less a celebration and more a summoning…an invocation of the macabre to attend this most peculiar of birthdays.
Her response is curt, "No." However, He remains unbowed, His voice tinged with an amusement as dark as the abyss itself. "Come on…birthdays are fun," He insists, a Cheshire grin unfurling to reveal the depths of His malevolence. Her gaze falls upon the grotesque cake, its three candles a trifecta of derision. "Since I'm so generous," His voice cuts through the silence, as sharp as a knife's edge, "you are bestowed three wishes…three and only three. No loopholes for the greedy heart and thrice must your desires be spoken.”
Desperation wings her feet as she makes a dash for liberty, only to be thwarted by the sinewy appendages that He commands. They entwine her with an almost tender ferocity, a reminder of the inextricability of her situation and return her to the sanctum of the bed. There, in the shadow of her own hesitance, she is submerged in thought, hours becoming her silent sentries. Finally, the moment ripens and she leans forward, her breath a whisper against the flame, extinguishing the first candle…a beacon quenched in the ocean of choice.
“My first wish is for the end of needless suffering…if there is a kind of suffering that offers no lessons or growth, to be eradicated from the human condition. This does not remove *** or tribulation as a whole, only erases those current conditions humanity has yet to cure. This will not lead to a false sense of security and reduce humanity's drive to identify and counteract emerging adversities that are not initially recognized as needless.” She claims hesitantly.
Her inaugural wish echoes into the silence, meeting with no ripple upon the stoic surface of His face. "Next," He urges, a solitary utterance amidst the expanse of her anticipation.
She blows out the second candle…
“My second wish is for a clear cut, undivided and collective understanding of what is considered 'good' or 'better' to be instilled in the hearts of humanity. A universal agreement that brings some peace and prevents major conflict over differences in moral judgment. This does not remove freedom of will or dampen free thought, it serves as a balm in conflicts among themselves. This will not suppress individual and cultural identities, leading to an extreme loss of diversity in the complexity of ethical perspectives and philosophical approaches.” She admits with a sigh.
He inclines his head in acknowledgement, and then, with a gesture of finality, He waits patiently for her final wish.
“My final wish is for a steady seed of desire for personal and collective growth, an innate motivation to strive to achieve a world based on their universal understanding of 'good' or 'best'. This wish is to keep humanity moving forward, to evolve and improve, even in the absence of immense suffering… This will not cause minority views to be undervalued or oppressed, leading to a tyranny in which dissenting voices are silenced in the name of collective ambition.” She pauses before adding.
“Humanity will still face the struggle of accomplishing such change, they will still experience the labor ***s of productive growth. There will be new challenges that arise in consequence to such alterations in the human condition. There will still be wars, death, conflicts in opinion as to how to achieve what everyone knows is best…Yet there would be more hope that humanity could endure a bit longer with life pulling some of its punches and humans having a clear goal on what's best.”
"Very well then," He murmurs, the darkness now more pronounced with the candle's demise and the sun's meager offering scarcely lapping through the curtains. "Your wishes are granted."
Her alarm is instant, her body coiling into a visceral expression of ***…and He savors it.
"I'm just fucking around," He confesses after a time, a touch of cruelty to his confession…
“I possess no such wish granting abilities…and to indulge such fantasies would be to ignore the balance of action and consequence that rules us all."
Her whispered "Oh thank God" meets His ears, to which he deadpans, "You're welcome," depositing the cake near her coffee and vacating the room in His usual enigmatic exit.
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