"You'd drool everywhere," he continues, almost dreamily. "Spit would be running down your chin, tears streaming down your pretty face. And I'd fuck your throat like it's a pussy—hard and brutal until you're gagging and struggling and making those desperate little sounds. Then I'd come down your throat and make you swallow every drop."
I'm shaking now, trembling so hard the restraints rattle slightly.
"Of course," he says, releasing my hair and stepping back, "if you really want to commit to this experience..." He walks over to a cabinet I hadn't noticed before and opens it, revealing an array of toys that makes my stomach drop. "I have options."
He pulls out a thick purple dildo, holding it up so I can see it clearly in the mirror. It's huge—maybe not quite as big as his cock, but close enough to make me whimper.
"I could strap this one to myself," he explains, walking back to position himself between my legs. "Fuck your pussy with my cock while this one stretches your ass. Both holes at once, Scarletta. Completely filled. Two at a Time, remember?"
He sets that dildo aside and picks up another one—this one slimmer but longer, with a flared base.
"Or I could put this one in your ass, fuck your pussy myself, and stick a dildo down your throat at the same time." His voice has taken on a darker edge now, getting rougher as his arousal builds. "All three holes filled. Unable to move, unable to speak, unable to do anything but take it. Just like you wrote in 'Debased.' Remember that one? Where the protagonist is strapped down and used by three men at once?"
I do remember. Of course I fucking remember. I wrote it two months ago during one of my darkest spirals, posting it at 3 AM and immediately regretting it.
"I'd make you watch yourself in the mirror," he continues relentlessly. "Watch as you're completely used. Watch your body betray you, getting wetter and wetter even as you're overwhelmed and crying. Watch yourself come so hard you black out."
My mind is spinning, fractured images overlapping—his cock in my ass, dildos filling me everywhere, my own words weaponized against me.
"Or," he says, setting the toys aside and running his hand along the inside of my thigh, "we could start simpler. Just this—"His fingers trace my dripping pussy lips, making me gasp. "Just my cock in your pussy. Nice and traditional for your first time with me. Let you get used to how I feel before we graduate to the truly filthy shit you've been writing about."
He leans over me, bringing his face close to mine, his masked features filling my vision.
"So what will it be, little slut? Where do you want this cock first?"
I'm trembling, my mind racing through all the options he's laid out. Each one more terrifying and arousing than the last. Each one pulled directly from my own twisted fantasies.
But I know what I want. What I can handle. What won't completely destroy me in the first hour of this twenty-four hour contract.
"Just..." My voice cracks. I swallow hard and try again. "Just vaginal. Just your cock in my pussy. Please."
"Please what?" he prompts, his hand still stroking my inner thigh.
I close my eyes, feeling the heat of shame flood my face. "Please fuck my pussy, Master."
"Good girl," he murmurs, and I hear the smile in his voice. "Such a good, honest little slut. Choosing what you actually want instead of trying to impress me. I appreciate that."
He positions himself between my legs again, and I feel the thick head of his cock press against my entrance. Not pushing in yet, just resting there, making me feel how big he is, how completely he's going to fill me.
"But Scarletta?" His voice drops to something darker, something that makes my breath catch. "This is just the beginning. Before this night is over, I'm going to fuck every hole you have. I'm going to use every toy in that cabinet. I'm going to make you beg for things you're too scared to choose right now."
The tip of him pushes inside, just barely, and I gasp at the stretch.
"But for now," he says softly, "I'm going to fuck this pretty little pussy until you scream."
And then he does.
The thick head of his cock pushes inside me, and I feel myself stretch around him—too much, god, too much—but he doesn't stop. He just keeps pushing, slow and relentless, until I'm making these desperate little sounds I don't recognize.
"Breathe," he commands, his hand sliding up to my throat. Not squeezing, just resting there. A reminder. "You can take it."
I can't. I fucking can't. He's too big, too much, and I'm going to split apart?—
But then he's fully inside me, buried to the hilt, and I can feel every fucking inch of him. My pussy clenches around him involuntarily, and he groans—the first sound of his own pleasure I've heard all night.
"Good girl," he murmurs, staying completely still. Letting me adjust. Letting me feel how completely he's filling me. "Such a good little slut, taking all of me."
Then he starts to move.
