“Smile for me, Doll,” he whispered, tracing my stitched mouth. “You’re prettiest when you can’t scream.”
Tears fell down my face, one by one. He spun me around, forcing me to face the mirror in front of me. Mascara ran in black rivers down my cheeks, and my lips were stitched shut in small, uneven x’s.
He paced around me, his palm hitting his forehead again and again as he muttered to himself, “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
Then he turned toward me. A knife rested in his hand, gleaming under the light. He stepped closer and pressed the cold tip just above my right breast. And slowly, he dug down and carved the word“Help”into my skin.
I hissed in pain, and as blood began to drip down my ribs, something snapped him out of his twisted trance. His forehead fell against mine.
His breath shook as he whispered, “I am sorry, Doll, so, so sorry.”
He pressed his lips to my stitched mouth, then kissed down my neck, as if he could undo what he had done.
There was no coming back from this.
Yet my body still responded to him, still craved the heat of his touch.
He slid off his right glove, dropping it to the floor, and with his bare hand, he wiped the blood from the word he had written on me.
He dragged blood down to my clit, using it as lube before thrusting his fingers inside me, making me wet.
I couldn’t say a word. I just shook in chains.
He lowered his pants and pulled his cock out, dragging it up and down before thrusting himself inside.
I lifted one leg onto his hip, and he drove in deeper. My head dropped to his shoulder, and he whispered again, “Sorry,” before kissing the top of my head.
He lifted my other leg up, locking both around his hips, and kept fucking me. I felt every inch, every tear falling as I couldn’t even open my mouth to moan.
He spread my ass cheeks and fucked me harder, my breasts bouncing against his chest. My body was all his now. Like a doll, he did whatever he wanted.
His head dropped to my chest, his lips moving up my neck. Then he found the open wound above my breast. He licked the blood until my skin was clean. Then he pulled out, grabbed my legs, and lifted me higher until they rested on his shoulders.
My hands were still chained above my head.
As he raised me, I hung in the air, legs locked around his neck. He pulled me close and pressed his mouth to my clit, sucking hard before sliding his tongue inside me.
I felt everything at once.
He parted my lower lips with two fingers and used the other hand to slide more fingers inside while his tongue circled my clit, slow at first, then faster, tighter, until my whole body started to clench.
“Just like that,” he whispered. “Break for me, Doll. Show me how no other man makes you feel like this.”
Then he bit my clit, dragged it between his teeth, and I groaned between pain and pleasure.
“Especially nothim.”
He pushed his fingers deeper. Two at first. Then a third. I kept opening for him, and he slid them in one by one until all five were inside. His whole fist.
A tear escaped. But this time, it wasn’t from pain. It was from not being able to scream. Not being able to tell him I wanted more. That even through the pain, I needed every second of it. That I didn’t want him to stop.
“All open for me,” he chuckled, then slowly pulled his whole hand out, making my body clench shut again. He dragged his lower teeth along me, moving up and down, tongue licking, eating me until I screamed inside without a sound.
I felt myself drip on him, down to my ass, my thighs soaked, and he didn’t stop. He kept going until I started to shake again. Then he began lowering me down.
My body twitched, aftershocks still rolling through me. But he wasn’t done.
He spun me around, spread my ass cheeks, and pushed into my back entrance. I dripped down my legs as he drove in deeper.
