Did he just slap methere?
Its tartness causes my mouth to water, and saliva starts to pool and drip down the sides of my cheeks. I try to clamp my legs shut.
“Your pussy belongs to me, don’t you dare pull away,” he grunts, using both hands to spread me wide, baring the depths of me to him. I whimper from the humiliation of the exposure, but I moan because I love it more.
The pain from his slap, the sharp ache of the wound beneath my breasts. I want more. I want so much I can barely breathe.
“Please, more,” I beg around the apple, my voice muffled. I’m not quite sure what for. Is it the pleasure he brings me? No, I think it’s the pain.
He leans forward, dragging his tongue through my pussy lips, and then curls his tongue inside of me with expert skill. Pushing in and out of me at an intoxicating pace, he fucks me with his tongue so good I can hardly breathe.
“It feels so good, my god, it feels so fucking good.” I moan, slurring from my stuffed mouth.
Pulling his tongue away from my entrance, he uses his tongue to circle my clit, in precise circles that make my hips move in time with them, curving and rocking along with his tongue.
Just as I feel my thighs begin to shake from the obsessive rhythm he continues on my slick clit, he pulls back and slaps me right on my pussy just as he did before. A slap timed so perfectly as I was just reaching the crest of my orgasm.
I let out another loud moan at the sharp feeling. I’m dripping wet, I can feel it dripping between my ass cheeks and down onto his lap. He has me pulled so far forward that almost my entire behind is hovering off the table.
“I know, darling, I know.” He whispers on my wet folds.
I try to clamp my legs closed again to shield myself from the pain, but he tuts at me in disappointment and spreads my legs again, giving me another quick smack. I whimper. That’s three slaps to my most sensitive flesh.
“I don’t like when someone takes my things without permission, darling, and this pussy belongs to me,” he says in that dark way of his, making me moan out around the apple that I’m trying my hardest not to bite through. Desperate for more attention, more play, more everything.
“It’s yours, just—please, more,” I practically shout around it, trying my best not to bite down on the apple. Words slurred around its tart flesh.
His tongue returns to my folds, and I grind against his tongue.
“Maybe I should take your other hole tonight, darling, you are such a good girl. I think you’ve earned the right to a little more pain,” he mumbles into my pussy, making me contract against the emptiness inside me. I’m dying to be filled again, overwhelmed with the need to be fucked so hard I pass out.
“Do you want more pain, darling?” He asks as he swirls his tongue around my clit in a way that makes me shudder. I’m so close.
“Please give me everything. I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, I’ll—” I can't even finish, I’m quaking, nearly bitten through the apple. Drool is sliding down both sides of my cheeks.
I never thought that would be something I would crave. Something I wholeheartedly desire. To have all of my walls and boundaries stripped down. To be turned into a woman who is begging for direction, lost, and reliant on the demands of her demented captor.
I arch my back up and let out a frustrated puff of air, making him laugh out loud.
“Oh, my little wife is so needy tonight.” He says, standing up and grabbing both my wrists. His comment makes me drip even more onto the table, my pussy impossibly wet from the spanking and the tongue fucking.
Untying his bowtie, he wraps it perfectly around the space between my wrists and forearms, then he violently tugs me forward, all delicate movements gone and replaced with decisive force. He’s aching for me now, I can tell.
It gets me the most when he’s losing control. There's a sickness in me that’s obsessed with watching him unravel—the perfect and controlled Hayden Herron, unraveling forme.
He pulls me off the table and flips me over, so my weight is on my full breasts and arms, causing me to bite into the apple a little deeper. I’m in risky territory now, with my teeth nearly too far through the apple to continue biting it.
I watch him pull a small bottle from his pocket; it’s small and full of clear liquid.
Using his fingers, he smears my wetness from my pussy to the tight bundle of nerves in my back hole and then pours a bit of the liquid too. Satisfied with the amount of my arousal and clear goo he’s traced around my asshole, he pushes forward and breaches the tight ring of muscle with his thumb. He’s gentle, not trying to cause me pain, but trying to make sure he prepares me.
In and out he thrusts.
At first, it’s painful, so painful I can barely stand it. I press my thighs together and whimper around the apple. Knowing that he’s not completely trying to hurt me, but there’s nothing he can do about the burn. But thrust after thrust, the odd pressure in my abdomen convincing me I need to use the restroom fades, and pleasure coils in my stomach instead.
I’m full of fear and anticipation, but one thing is for sure: IknowI’m terrified to take him in my ass.
“I’ll try my best to go slow, darling, but I can’t promise you this won't hurt,” he whispers, working his thumb in and out of my asshole while he works his other two fingers in and out of my pussy.
