I open my mouth. My eyelids flutter down as he pushes the cloth between my lips then ties it at the back. My tongue pokes at it. Maybe this is freedom? I no longer need to choose. I can simply be.
I look back at Kail, my stitched man, my frankenstruct. We metone night ago. I’m the crazy one. I want that thick cock inside me. I canfeelit sliding in whenever I see it jutting upward. The whole of it, sutures and scars included, gleams with my arousal because he’s been stroking himself.
I’m definitely in need of intervention.
He trails his hand along my side and positions himself behind me. Finally. I curve my spine and sway my ass before him.
“Soon.” He delivers a few smacks to it, pulls apart my cheeks, then slips his thumb tip inside my asshole. The unexpected invasion makes me squeak. His laugh is low and throaty, then sneaks his thumb further in.
I’m panting already, cursing him quietly through the gag. Groaning even, as he fingerfucks my pussy then pushes that thumb in. The fear he invoked before is like an extra layer of spice.
I just want him to dick me down into this sofa until I orgasm like a train and we bust all the springs.
That’s the small stuff really. Being fucked by a monster is the cream on top.
Trust, though. One needs to trust to sink into this.
Do I have that?
19
BAD ME
If I fuck you here, where do I… hide the bones.That sentence rolled out in my mind, and I caught it in time to stop myself from saying the worst. I still don’t know why I even thought it. And Bad Me?
I shouldn’t have said that. Is my brain concealing things from me?
I slide forward to partly cover her body where she’s laid out over the sofa and armrest—naked, wriggly woman. I thrust my fingers into her while I bite the curve of her shoulder, listen to her sighs and her throaty moans. She squirms under me, and a few more slaps on her ass will redden her with handprints.
Not yet.
I glance down, admiring her, holding myself back until I have her well past that scare. My cock hates the waiting, pulses whenever it brushes her bareness or prods her.
The sight of her at my feet, before, helpless and waiting for me, it unscrewed some bottle of thick, nightmare darkness.
Things poured into my imagination, exquisite and terrifying.
A woman tied to the ceiling, spinning. Upside down and ready to be facefucked, or right way up on tiptoes and gagged, with red stripes on her from ass to back, to breasts. She writhes to escape the strikes of a whip, crying out as some object on the end of a stick is pumped into her cunt. A dildo, a bottle, a knife with bared blade?
My gut churned. My cock rose, harder than steel.
Come painted her body from mouth to ass with rivers of white.
Incredibly graphic.
What is reality? Have I seen this before?
I lurch back into awareness of Hailey beneath me where I’ve spread her, bound her wrists with torn shirt, tied her mouth with the remains of her bra. She’s silenced and perfect.
I hold her down, pin her flatter to the cushions. Ass up she is plain gorgeous. Her slit glistens, drips with arousal that smears her inner thighs.
I line myself up, guiding the head of my cock into her pussy, searching, then slip partly in, an inch or two.
I halt, teeth gritted. Already her walls are sucking at me, clenching in.
She twists her neck to watch me, looking stunned, her mouth a gag-distortedO, straining to open as I plunge fully inside her, fucking her with this erection forged from misremembered scenes of god knows what. Porn? It must have been that.
And her. I want to pour her like this into a gold sculpture and keep her forever. All sultry and face-flushed, all desiring of cock, of being made mine.
