And still, she forced herself down. Again. And again.
Each drop deeper made her whimper. Made her eyes blur with pain. Her pussy clenched like a fist, and shame curled in her gut.
His eyes didn’t blink.
She closed her own. Thought about her tongue in his asshole. His voice mocking, calling her pathetic. The gagging. The failure. Her shame.
Her clit throbbed.
The humiliation made her body respond a thousand times more than it’d ever managed when praised.
She braced her thighs. Breathed out slow. Dropped another half-inch. Then another. The burn was searing, a stretch so brutal it felt like her cunt might split. Her hands clutched at her knees to keep from falling apart.
Her pussy fought it every second. But her arousal surged. That aching, desperate place between want and fear, the one Silas lived for, bloomed.
She bottomed out with a choking sound.
Pain detonated in her gut. The thick head slammed her cervix, the impact like a punch from inside. Her shoulders curled forward. Her whole body clenched.
It hurt. God, ithurt.
And she still wasn’t close enough.
She moved with tiny, desperate bounces that made her whimper through clenched teeth while she traveled up and down over that impossible length. Her body burned, her thighs screamed, and her cunt felt flayed open.
She didn’t care.
Shame wrapped around her like fire and everything — the stretch, the failure, the object she’d become — turned into friction and heat and need.
She was going to come or die trying.
Thirty thrusts. Forty. She didn’t count anymore. Her vision swam.
She looked up through tears.
“Please.”
His brow lifted a tiny fraction.
“Please, Sir,” she begged, voice ragged. “I’m full. It’s so deep. It hurts. Please let me come.”
He walked a slow, cruel circle, boots heavy on the floor.
“Look at this ruined little cunt,” he murmured. “Stretched wider than Boone. Bruised up to your throat. And still begging.”
Her face crumpled. A sob tore from her chest. Her clit throbbed like it had its own heartbeat.
“Please, Sir. Please. I need—”
“You may come.”
It detonated.
Her body convulsed around the monstrosity, muscles locking tight, everything clenching and spasming, but there was no give. No closure. Just the brutal stretch, the unrelenting fullness, and the white-hot shame of what she’d begged for. Her screams wereloud and guttural, more animal than human, but she didn’t care. The pain wasn’t a barrier. It was fuel. The humiliation fed the fire until it roared.
Her hips bucked without rhythm, without control, slamming her battered cervix down again and again against the head of the enormous cock. Her cunt tried to spasm, tried to flutter in release, but the impossible girth held her wide open, twitching around a shape too large to be moved by her muscles. Her whole lower body jerked in chaotic, desperate waves, legs trembling, arms shaking, nothing left but instinct.
She wasn’t fucking the toy. She was fucking Silas’s cruelty, his willpower, his fucking philosophy, every brutal inch of it, while her body betrayed her with a climax so intense it bordered on seizure. Each thrust down was a confession, a surrender, a filthy affirmation of just how far she’d fallen.
