Über mich
Ich suche
Ich suche nach
- Freunde
- Beziehung
Beschreibung
Fuck around and find out ?
Please ?
I'm pretty much here to vent via writing and to coax a big beautiful beast in through my window so I may keep Him in my metaphorical basement indefinitely.
(Sapiophile and Demisexual)
There's quite a bit to be said about me... but feel free to ask anything. Keep in mind though that if you initiate conversation with sexual undertones it's extremely unlikely that you'll get a response from me. Yep...
Grenzen
No Multiple partners
No Non-monogamous dynamics
No Age & Race play
No scat
No switching
Meine Rollen
Was ich sexy finde
Das mache ich gerne:
- Angstspiele
- Ball Gag
- Betteln
- Beißen
- Bondage
- Bondage Käfig
- Bondage Seil
- Brillen Fetisch
- Ketten
- Halsband und Leine
- Cosplay
- Doktorspiele
- Erotisches Wrestling
- Ohrfeigen
- Fesselung
- Fingern
- Gefangenenrollenspiele
- Haare ziehen
- Handschellen
- Kidnapping-Rollenspiele
- Multiple Orgasmen
- Nippelklemme
- Orgasmuskontrolle
- Kneifen
- Post-Orgasmus-Folter
- Roboterfetischismus
- Rollenspiele
- Sapiosexuell
- Sensory Deprivation
- Fickmaschine
- Spanking
- Suspension Cuffs
- Vampir Spiele
- Massagestab
Das möchte ich gerne mal ausprobieren:
Fetisch.de bietet Dir…
Auf Fetisch.de findest Du viele BDSM-Kontakte und Fetischkontakte in Knoxville. Auf Fetisch.de findest Du auch ein großes BDSM und Fetisch-Forum, wo Du Dich über Deine Vorlieben austauschen kannst und Gleichgesinnte findest.
His work schedule had taken an unexpected turn, and the wicked spark of excitement at sharing the news had alighted within him. Yet, he kept the secret close, choosing to keep it a surprise instead.
Returning home, the distant murmur of water called to him, the sound floating from the master Weiterlesen… bathroom. Stealthy as a shadow, he approached, unlatching the door with the care of a thief in the twilight. His eyes, those piercing orbs of intent, sought her through a breach in the shower curtain.
There she was, her figure a symphony of self indulgence, one hand fervently clawing her breast, the other orchestrating pleasure with the showerhead playing against her satin folds. Desire, unbidden and fierce, surged through him, his own arousal a rigid testament to her lascivious display.
Garments shed like fallen leaves, his body tensed and primed, he struck. His hand, a serpent of possession, clamped about her throat, an iron vise of retribution as the shower curtain was whipped aside.
"You little slut," he hissed, venomous and full of dark promise, his voice a storm rumbling over the precipice of her transgressions.
He watched as shock painted her face, her limbs flailing wildly. The sound of bottles clattering against the tile reached his ears accompanied by the thud of the shower head being thrust away in terror.
"So this is what you do when I'm not here?" His tone was accusatory as he stepped into the shower, the space suddenly too small, his presence too large.
"No, Sir," she whimpered, her eyes wide and beseeching, pleading for both forgiveness and his next move. But the truth flickered there, and he seized it, his hand turning her face to his with unforgiving firmness.
"Go on then," he demanded, his voice a sharp edge in the humid air. The impact of the shower head against her thigh resonated with a challenge, the implement thrust back into her grasp.
A harsh slap cut through the steam, her cheek stinging with the imprint of his hand, her body jolting with a violent tremor as the water's pulse continued its insistent rhythm against her. Her legs quivered, the surge of pain mingling with forbidden pleasure, each drop from the shower head a reminder of her transgression.
His eyes shimmered with devilish delight seeing her already teetering on the brink. "Look at you," he chuckled, dark timbre laced with amused malice, "so ready to fall apart for me."
His hand, a merciless vice, found its way once again to her delicate neck…squeezing, pressing, denying her lungs their desperate plea for air until her knees threatened to betray her.
With a sudden release, oxygen flooded back to her, a life giving torrent that catapulted her over the edge into blissful oblivion. "Did I say you could cum?" The growl vibrated against her skin, a feral reprimand as she leaned into him, her entire form quaking with the force of her shattering ecstasy.
His grin was that of a predator in control as he cruelly shifted the spray from searing warmth to biting cold. Her screams filled the steamy confines of the bathroom, a symphony of tortured pleasure, her fingers releasing the shower head as if it burned.
He was quick to restrain her, his body a solid bastion against any attempt to escape the icy torrent. Forcefully, he maneuvered her, turning her to face the unforgiving tiles.
Then, with a possessive hand over her mouth to muffle her cries, he plunged his rigid cock deep into her convulsing pussy, filling her without preamble, without mercy.
The cold water nipped at his ankles, indifferent to the heat of his fervor, as he dug his claws into the tender flesh of her chest, branding her with marks that spoke of his hunger.
The relentless rhythm he set was a punishing dance…his hips crashed into hers, each savage thrust carving into her mercilessly.
The sensation of her eager tongue against the expanse of his hand was fuel to the inferno that raged within him. With a low snarl, his fingers plunged into the warm wetness of her mouth…a clear message of the looming onslaught her body was about to endure.
"May she cum?" Her voice, muffled and distorted by the intrusion of his digits, was thick with need…her desperation a sweet serenade that only heightened his sadistic desires.
His laugh was a growled melody of absolute power as he deliberated over her pathetic plea. "You think you fucking deserve another one?" His words were a tempest, his grip shifting, now latching onto her hair, wrenching her head back.
"No, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir," she whimpered, a symphony of submission. Yet even as her weakened knees gave the tantalizing hint of collapse, her quivering form laid bare her inner turmoil between punishment and need.
The next impact was a deliberate cruelty, his cock slamming into her with such precision that it crashed against her cervix, a barrier to the ascension of pleasure she so desperately sought. Her uncomfortable gasp, a delicious contradiction to the distant sound of pleasure that lingered beneath.
Her body bowed under the weight of his authority as he pushed her head down, her palms finding solace upon the slick tiles. His nails carved paths of possession down her back, each mark a testament to the fervor that consumed him.
Held there, her whimpers melded into the steam…a haunting aria of desire that resonated within the confines of the shower.
Each pulse of his ravaging arousal became a crescendo within him until, possessively clutching her hips, he released his essence deep inside her womb.
Her melodious whimpers of sweet agony caressed his senses while his fingers tantalized devilishly over her swollen clit, prolonging the ecstasy that held her captive.
As her body writhed in futile attempts to evade the pleasure he wielded like a weapon, he toyed with her mercilessly, edging her closer to the abyss of release.
Yet, upon feeling her tighten around him signifying her imminent climax…he abruptly ceased his torment and withdrew from her warmth, leaving a cold void in the wake of heated passion.
Desperation seized her face, contorting it with lust as her fingers, now claws of yearning, scratched at his chest…her pleas for continuation falling on deaf ears.
He afforded her no mercy as he washed away the sins of their union, her frustration a background opus as he stepped from the shower.
Enshrouding himself in a towel, he turned to leave the bathroom with a grin, her whimpers a fading chorus accompanying his departure.
Dressed now, his form was the epitome of his own self satisfaction, the mirror reflecting back a predator pleased with the hunt.
The symphony of her vocal disappointment was the perfect serenade as he tailored himself once more in the guise of normality.
Her crescendo of need played on, an unseen performance, while he reveled in a silence that spoke only of fulfillment…a silence that was his alone as he closed the door on their tempestuous interlude.
Returning home, the distant murmur of water called to him, the sound floating from the master Weiterlesen… bathroom. Stealthy as a shadow, he approached, unlatching the door with the care of a thief in the twilight. His eyes, those piercing orbs of intent, sought her through a breach in the shower curtain.
There she was, her figure a symphony of self indulgence, one hand fervently clawing her breast, the other orchestrating pleasure with the showerhead playing against her satin folds. Desire, unbidden and fierce, surged through him, his own arousal a rigid testament to her lascivious display.
Garments shed like fallen leaves, his body tensed and primed, he struck. His hand, a serpent of possession, clamped about her throat, an iron vise of retribution as the shower curtain was whipped aside.
"You little slut," he hissed, venomous and full of dark promise, his voice a storm rumbling over the precipice of her transgressions.
He watched as shock painted her face, her limbs flailing wildly. The sound of bottles clattering against the tile reached his ears accompanied by the thud of the shower head being thrust away in terror.
"So this is what you do when I'm not here?" His tone was accusatory as he stepped into the shower, the space suddenly too small, his presence too large.
"No, Sir," she whimpered, her eyes wide and beseeching, pleading for both forgiveness and his next move. But the truth flickered there, and he seized it, his hand turning her face to his with unforgiving firmness.
"Go on then," he demanded, his voice a sharp edge in the humid air. The impact of the shower head against her thigh resonated with a challenge, the implement thrust back into her grasp.
A harsh slap cut through the steam, her cheek stinging with the imprint of his hand, her body jolting with a violent tremor as the water's pulse continued its insistent rhythm against her. Her legs quivered, the surge of pain mingling with forbidden pleasure, each drop from the shower head a reminder of her transgression.
His eyes shimmered with devilish delight seeing her already teetering on the brink. "Look at you," he chuckled, dark timbre laced with amused malice, "so ready to fall apart for me."
His hand, a merciless vice, found its way once again to her delicate neck…squeezing, pressing, denying her lungs their desperate plea for air until her knees threatened to betray her.
With a sudden release, oxygen flooded back to her, a life giving torrent that catapulted her over the edge into blissful oblivion. "Did I say you could cum?" The growl vibrated against her skin, a feral reprimand as she leaned into him, her entire form quaking with the force of her shattering ecstasy.
His grin was that of a predator in control as he cruelly shifted the spray from searing warmth to biting cold. Her screams filled the steamy confines of the bathroom, a symphony of tortured pleasure, her fingers releasing the shower head as if it burned.
He was quick to restrain her, his body a solid bastion against any attempt to escape the icy torrent. Forcefully, he maneuvered her, turning her to face the unforgiving tiles.
Then, with a possessive hand over her mouth to muffle her cries, he plunged his rigid cock deep into her convulsing pussy, filling her without preamble, without mercy.
The cold water nipped at his ankles, indifferent to the heat of his fervor, as he dug his claws into the tender flesh of her chest, branding her with marks that spoke of his hunger.
The relentless rhythm he set was a punishing dance…his hips crashed into hers, each savage thrust carving into her mercilessly.
The sensation of her eager tongue against the expanse of his hand was fuel to the inferno that raged within him. With a low snarl, his fingers plunged into the warm wetness of her mouth…a clear message of the looming onslaught her body was about to endure.
"May she cum?" Her voice, muffled and distorted by the intrusion of his digits, was thick with need…her desperation a sweet serenade that only heightened his sadistic desires.
His laugh was a growled melody of absolute power as he deliberated over her pathetic plea. "You think you fucking deserve another one?" His words were a tempest, his grip shifting, now latching onto her hair, wrenching her head back.
"No, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir," she whimpered, a symphony of submission. Yet even as her weakened knees gave the tantalizing hint of collapse, her quivering form laid bare her inner turmoil between punishment and need.
The next impact was a deliberate cruelty, his cock slamming into her with such precision that it crashed against her cervix, a barrier to the ascension of pleasure she so desperately sought. Her uncomfortable gasp, a delicious contradiction to the distant sound of pleasure that lingered beneath.
Her body bowed under the weight of his authority as he pushed her head down, her palms finding solace upon the slick tiles. His nails carved paths of possession down her back, each mark a testament to the fervor that consumed him.
Held there, her whimpers melded into the steam…a haunting aria of desire that resonated within the confines of the shower.
Each pulse of his ravaging arousal became a crescendo within him until, possessively clutching her hips, he released his essence deep inside her womb.
Her melodious whimpers of sweet agony caressed his senses while his fingers tantalized devilishly over her swollen clit, prolonging the ecstasy that held her captive.
As her body writhed in futile attempts to evade the pleasure he wielded like a weapon, he toyed with her mercilessly, edging her closer to the abyss of release.
Yet, upon feeling her tighten around him signifying her imminent climax…he abruptly ceased his torment and withdrew from her warmth, leaving a cold void in the wake of heated passion.
Desperation seized her face, contorting it with lust as her fingers, now claws of yearning, scratched at his chest…her pleas for continuation falling on deaf ears.
He afforded her no mercy as he washed away the sins of their union, her frustration a background opus as he stepped from the shower.
Enshrouding himself in a towel, he turned to leave the bathroom with a grin, her whimpers a fading chorus accompanying his departure.
Dressed now, his form was the epitome of his own self satisfaction, the mirror reflecting back a predator pleased with the hunt.
The symphony of her vocal disappointment was the perfect serenade as he tailored himself once more in the guise of normality.
Her crescendo of need played on, an unseen performance, while he reveled in a silence that spoke only of fulfillment…a silence that was his alone as he closed the door on their tempestuous interlude.
Gefällt mirUtility2, dominanttraveler1980, Julgesund 5 weitere…
Slipping through her window with the stealth of a predator, he was upon her at last. The anticipation and intensity of his yearning were nearly crippling, a lust so fierce it ignited his very soul with a rage like fervor.
This was her doing... his need for her was so acute it left him inflamed and Weiterlesen… weakened with desire.
As she stepped forward to embrace him, he seized her throat with unsteady hands, every ounce of his self control tested to avoid crushing her delicate windpipe.
With an effort, he eased his grasp, only to find his teeth buried in her neck with a ferocious urgency. She let out a cry as her flesh yielded slightly beneath his bite, yet this time, he refrained from consuming her entirely.
His fingernails dug into her flesh, holding her with an unyielding force as he groaned against her neck. His mouth hung open, gasping to temper his ravenous hunger. As he licked at the mark he had created, his tongue moved with the desperate urgency of a wild beast quenching its thirst.
Her screams reverberated in the charged air as he tore off her skirt, swiftly followed by her panties. His body ached with an unnerving need, the sensation akin to the headiest of aphrodisiacs spiked with an excess of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He was intoxicated by desire as he gripped her hair tightly and hurled her forcefully to the ground. The moment she pushed herself up and cast a backward glance at him, his last vestige of self restraint shattered.
"Look what you've done," he snarled, freeing his engorged cock from the confines of his trousers. His hand encircled her throat, the throbbing head of his manhood teasing her slick entrance. He felt her pulse racing, her breaths coming in urgent gasps.
"No, not yet," he growled, pulling back abruptly and flinging her down once again. Lunging forward with predatory grace, he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her ass, showing savage abandon as her screams filled the air and she thrashed wildly, desperate to escape.
“Shut up,” he hissed as he smacked the cheek he'd just imprinted his mark upon, using his thumb to he traced the wound. He was so close to her snatch. Despite her protests he could smell her arousal.
“Oh you like this do you? You stupid fucking whore he chuckled as he slid a finger inside of her. She was dripping wet. “Does your ass get this wet?" he said with laughter strained through clenched teeth. With swift brutality, he withdrew his finger only to drive it with unyielding force into her ass.
"That's it…is this what you wanted?" he snarled, delivering several more stinging slaps across her ass, eliciting a tightening around his invading digit. As he slowly extracted his finger, he replaced it with a medium sized plug, securing it within her slightly gaping orifice.
He wasted no time in flipping her onto her back, his hands encircling her neck, throttling her to emphasize his commands.
"You thought you could just come around me and dangle yourself like a piece of meat? What kind of imbecilic twat begs a beast to crawl through her window?" he spat, his tone laden with ferocity. His grip shifted from her vulnerable throat, entwining in her hair, while his other clawed hand viciously claimed her breast, kneading the soft flesh as a declaration of his dominance.
His veneer of control frayed at the edges as he watched her struggle to draw breath, each desperate gasp chipping away at his patience.
With a harsh smack to her breast, he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her abdomen, fingers digging into her ass with possessive ferocity before trailing down her thighs, leaving behind searing reminders of his touch.
His arousal, once momentarily subdued, now stirred anew…his cock twitching, throbbing, aching with a primal need. Forcing his fingers past her lips, he shoved his head between her thighs to savor her taste. Yet her teeth clamped down on his hand in defiance, and in response, he unleashed his savagery upon her thigh, his bite drawing crimson beads to the surface.
"Do you prefer this, then?" he snarled, his mouth enveloping a larger swathe of her flesh, biting down again as if to claim her very being with his predatory hunger.
His composure, precariously cobbled together with each swell of restraint, fractured at the slightest whimper, the faintest gasp that slipped from her quivering lips.
"Stop... wait, no," he commanded, his hand clamping on her face, dragging her by her delicate jawbone to her knees. The look in her eyes…wide with terror, tinged with the intoxicating haze of desire…it fueled his craze, igniting a fire within.
"Yes... fuck," he breathed out, his voice but a whisper, his grip on her face relenting as he gave it a series of light, stinging slaps.
"Yes, good..." he murmured, his hands in her hair, manipulating her upright with the ease of a puppeteer hoisting a marionette into position. He leaned close, his breath hot against the shell of her ear as he growled a sinister directive, "Now you're going to worship my cock as if your very existence depends on it…no stupid shit… Misstep, and you'll be unconscious for the parts you'd beg not to." His hiss was a fierce undercurrent to the threat.
The tumultuous look that flickered in her eyes as he discarded her to the ground was the potent catalyst to his madness, erasing all pretense of control. In a swift motion, he hoisted her into the air, pressing her drained body against his own relentless force.
As he drove his cock inside her, her slick warmth enveloped him with an ease that belied the abruptness of his actions, yet the intensity of the moment left her further disoriented.
Her screams melded with the ferocity of her clawing at his back, her body convulsing, tightening around him with a powerful grip. He allowed her a few potent seconds impaled on his length before removing her, only to position her yet again.
"Now... open," he commanded, his voice brimming with dark authority as he slapped his wet cock against her flushed cheeks. Impatience was unnecessary…he plunged into the depths of her throat amidst her heaving breaths.
His relentless thrusts pounded against her, each motion deeper into the cavern of her throat, each sound of her choked sobs and gags fueling his rampant desire.
"Are you okay?" he purred, amusement lacing his tone, an echo of concern merely a shadow within his chuckle. As her ragged gasps filled the air, surrender seemed to unfold across her features in the briefest of moments.
Yet, instead of a verbal response, she seized the moment to attack, her teeth sinking into the flesh at his side with a ferocity mirroring his own.
Undeterred by her biting, a primal rumble vibrated from deep within his chest. His arm slithered around her, his hand moving with deliberate intent as he slipped two fingers back into the welcoming heat of her pussy.
"You're perfect, aren't you?" he growled, his voice thick with raw appreciation and lustful dominance.
His hand withdrew only after a taste of her depths, and with a forceful grip, he pried her off of him, her teeth reluctantly releasing their hold. She fought against his restraint, eager still to bite and suckle the flesh she had claimed as her own.
Seizing her chin with unerring precision, he loomed above her, a sardonic smile dancing across his lips as leaned over and smiled against hers.
He whispered a command…murmured like a seductive spell beckoning her to proceed as he claimed her mouth with an imposing invasion of his tongue.
Her response came without hesitation, her lips suckling at his tongue with voracious eagerness as he grappled with his own rampant desire, his hand encircling his pulsing shaft in a futile attempt to quell its insistence.
Unable to restore his sanity he thrust her away and put a barrier between them, his foot pressed firmly against her breasts.
“Run…” he commanded.
He watched as she slowly scampered to her knees.
“Not fast enough!” he growled, lashing out at her with aimless limbs swiping and colliding with her chin and tender abdomen.
The jarr to her face ignited her sense of self preservation and she darted quickly for the door. It took everything within him to even give her a few seconds head start.
“One…two…” he managed before bolting through the doorway after her.
He didn't care about the hunt nor the chase, he'd been hunting her for months and now…he would finally have her.
The family dog took pursuit as well, concerned about the commotion. As he caught up to her quickly and wrapped one hand around her neck and another over her mouth, her canine companion knew by the scent in the air that this wasn't the time to intervene, this was raw nature at its finest.
The dog pounced around them excitedly before bolting back onto the sofa, settling down as he dragged her back through the hallway and returned her to the bedroom.
Casting her onto the bed he ripped open her side dresser and grasped the silken restraints he'd known were kept there.
He commanded her with a low and menacing growl, "Hold still," as he bound her wrists with a rapid urgency that paid no mind to finesse. The knots were crude, born of necessity rather than artistry… She was his now, and there was no chance of escape.
He vanished into the closet, a place where her private pleasures lay hidden, now subject to his marauding search. His hand, white from the tension, clasped an alloy handle, and he re-emerged as if from the shadows…a predator returning to its prize.
Shaking the tension from his arms, he advanced towards her…the metal tassels at the end of the handle whispered threats like a serpent ready to strike, announcing his impending intent. Grabbing a pair of panties from the drawer's contents sprawled across the floor he shoved them into her mouth.
She could feel the chill of alloy caress the nape of her neck and shoulders as he slowly crept the whip’s tendrils down her back…The chains he left to dangle between her thighs, barely teasing her snatch as he tried to slow his breathing.
Then…the sensation was gone. Everything fell silent and remained that way for an excruciating amount of time. She heard not even a breath slither behind her…it was if he'd vanished all together.
Her senses were taut with the straining suspense…he had honed this wait to a cruel art, each passing moment fraying her resolve until, inevitably, curiosity betrayed her.
She moved, an infinitesimal shift, driven by the desperate need to unveil his next maneuver. Yet it was enough. The moment she stirred, the biting lash of the alloy tendrils kissed her skin, a searing sting across her flesh.
A muffled yelp strained against the fabric wedged between her lips, the panties now a soaked testament to her anxiety and fear.
From the depths of her humiliation and pain, a groan…a sound threaded with the dark pleasure of her submission escaped him as he stood behind her. And then, without mercy, another lash sliced through the air, delivering a blow that was stark in its abruptness, in its uncompromising force.
Once again she felt the bulging head of his cock tease her entrance. Sweet whimpers came crawling up her throat as he continued to tease and torture her. Another abrupt lash found its way searing into her inner thighs and subsequently she found herself snatched up by the hair to watch as the marks bloomed across her flesh.
Briefly she met his gaze. He wasn't snarling nor smiling. His expression haunting, neutral, almost entranced in his headspace.
It was as if each lash had transferred a portion of his emotion into her very essence. His eyes harbored no pain, no love, no concern, no happiness yet in them there was a soothing sense of pure bliss. There it was…the void…staring back at her… if for only a few moments he was allowed to be free from all thoughts and emotions…to feel absolutely nothing.
In his gaze, she was able to fully relax as well, offering her full surrender to the fleeting glimpse of the void. The hollow tranquility of their mutual escape was short lived however…as a grin slowly creeped across his face.
Although the beast had been silenced in those mere moments of her surrendered submission…it was by no means satiated.
He followed the raised welts on her skin with his tongue, a tender contrast to the previous harshness. The softness of his touch emphasized the heat of the welts, creating a tapestry of sensation that held her captive.
His journey continued until his tongue found the more sensitive regions of her flesh, teasing the entrance of her ass with deliberate hunger.
Her response was involuntary, instinctive…she gnawed at the sodden fabric between her lips, moans vibrating through the gag, each one a chorus of her ecstasy. The tracing of her plug with the precise tip of his tongue was exquisite torture, and she writhed under the skillful provocation.
But as fluidly as the sensation had begun, it ceased. He withdrew the plug with a deliberate carelessness that left her momentarily hollow before the void was ripped apart by the searing whip.
The lash engulfed her back, a firebrand that expanded its reach across her skin. The crack split the silence…a herald of pain…and the bite that followed coerced a new tapestry of red upon her skin, one that no tongue could soothe.
The abrupt shock ripped a scream from her throat that caused the panties to crawl from her mouth.
Casting the whip aside as to prevent any uncontrolled chaos he snatched her by the nape of the neck.
“Fuck!” she screamed.
“Not yet…” came his answer, followed by another command to run.
She knew better than to physically hesitate at this point and yet a whimpering “No" of a plea fell from her lips as she struggled to make her way bound off of the bed.
He chuckled in amusement at her writhing form as it slumped off the bed and onto the floor in an attempt to escape.
"There's no running, you idiot. Look at your pathetic attempts." Laughter, callous and taunting, followed as he pressed her face against the rough fabric of the carpet, his actions uncompromising.
With calculated patience, he introduced a lubricant into her exposed and yielding entrance, the cool slickness of the liquid promising more to come.
It traced a chilling path down her trembling thighs as she complied with his stern command, "Stand up." Her movements were clumsy as the cold liquid caressed her canal, it dribbled down her thighs as she fumbled awkwardly to her knees.
Without a moment's reprieve he snaked his hand around her throat, hoisting her up slightly as he forced himself inside her. Her primal moans snuffed out by his hands quick snap to cover her mouth…He waited for the shaking and screaming to subside before lowering her head back down to the carpet.
Using her bondage as leverage he continued to thrust into her mercilessly, her screams now melting into ragged gasps and moans of ascending subspace.
The pleasure engulfed her mind, pounding her consciousness into a limbo where the lines between the divine and utter destruction began to blur.
Her voice, quivering with the weight of her predicament, rang forth with a mantra of gratitude amidst the chaos, a feeble attempt to find solace in surrender. "T-thank you," she murmured, the phrase spilling out relentlessly.
His inquiry was sharp with mock bewilderment, echoing in the space between them. "Thank you?" he echoed with a tainted incredulity. His voice turned to a growl, laden with scorn, as he posed the cruel rhetorical question. "For what? For using you like the little fucking whore you are, for fucking your shit up?" His fingers raked across her hips with a sadistic claim, drawing blood to the surface and leaving her branded with shallow puncture wounds.
As he wove his fingers through her hair, gripping with a force that brooked no resistance, her body was contorted and twisted to his will. "Keep saying it, keep fucking saying it," he ordered, the command resonating with the power of his dominance.
The words became her litany, "Thank you… thank you," escaping through sobs, her tears etching lines of both degradation and release upon her face.
"Fuck,” his whispered curse betrayed his precipice of control… his arousal edged to the brink by her litany of thanks, her tears, her very surrender. In a swift motion borne of his own overwhelming need, he released her, realigning himself to press against her yielding lips anew.
"Clean it off," his command was a guttural directive, rough with need, as he forced himself into her mouth…her compliance, his for the taking. His breaths came jagged and unsteady, his claws raking across his own skin in a desperate ploy for anchorage amidst the storm of his own making.
Consumed by an insatiable hunger, the kind that gnawed at his very soul, his body quivered, every fiber straining under the intensity of his yearning. Desire coiled tightly around his reason, driving him towards the precipice of madness.
The snarl that ripped from his throat was laced with frustration and venom. "Fuck this, fuck this, and fuck you." The words were a tempest as he withdrew from her throat, leaving her gasping, her purpose momentarily abandoned.
Pacing like a caged beast, he seized a pair of scissors from the depths of the closeted craft box, his actions a chaotic whirl. With haste and a modicum of care that belied his boiling frenzy, he snipped through the restraints that bound her wrists, the blades trembling in his grasp, dangerously close to turning her flesh to ribbons.
As the silken threads and the scissors clattered against the wall, discarded remnants of their savage dance, he issued her one final, feral growl. “You think you can stop me?" "Stop me," he taunted, before lunging at her with reckless abandon.
As the maelstrom swirled, she exploded into wakefulness, the adrenaline forging clarity of purpose and power. It was survival, raw and unyielding, that electrified her muscles and sharpened her mind.
Her hand, seeking leverage, tangled fiercely into his hair, a grip both desperate and strategic. Her legs coiled tightly, knees drawing protectively forward, preparing to thrust outward. The other arm pivoted, a shield against his predatory advance, diverting his hand as it lunged for her vulnerable throat.
Her teeth, a weapon of primitive instinct, found his flesh, sinking into his arm with ferocious precision. Guided by a blend of fear and fury, she harnessed his captured mane, twisting, forcing her knee to connect with his abdomen. The contact elicited from him a hiss…a sound that she clung to as her last efforts began to wane.
His retaliation came swift… a wedge driven between her resisting thighs, his presence an unrelenting force. "Not even close," he whispered, the mockery a velvet cloak draped over the cold steel of his intent. His bite on her ear was the harbinger of his imminent invasion, a firm, possessive claim before he drove himself into her core.
A scream seized the air as she grappled for purchase, nails raking his flesh, a frantic attempt to anchor herself to something, anything, in the tempest of his possession. She fought against the crushing weight that sought to envelop her, his dominance a relentless pressure that threatened to consume her very being.
“I knew you couldn't fight…why would you fight something that you were so pathetically begging for? I could sense your desperation, for this…for me…for your Master.” his voice was taunt, dripping with disdain.
He was right…she had no further protests. Slowly her legs wrapped around his waist as she pulled herself deeper into the breeding position. Her lips collided with his neck, sucking, licking and nibbling at the weathered flesh.
Her whimpers came forth, longer and more drawn out as she began climbing once more into realms of ecstasy. He could feel her grip loosening as she slipped away. His hand clasped around her throat, wrestling her breath from her lungs as she proceeded to thrash about.
"Cum, cum now," he demanded, his voice a dark incantation. "Or you'll lose consciousness trying." His words were a grim promise, a boundary set where pleasure and peril blurred.
Her compliance was not a choice but preservation. Her body stiffened, a bowstring pulled taut, as her ascent was forcibly hastened. Beneath him, she struggled, each movement an erratic dance choreographed by his accelerating thrusts into her cervix.
In her eyes, the duality of terror and anticipation mingled…he saw the abyss into which she teetered…a precipice of ecstasy she resisted to plunge from. His perception sharpened by sadistic insight, he discerned the ruse as her muscles contracted in feigned climax.
“No!” he growled as he released her throat and grabbed her by the back of the neck to watch as he carved his way in and out of her.
The sudden inflow of air was salvation, a violent rush filling her starved lungs as he crashed back into her with the relentless force of a storm surge. In that moment she was able to let go… no longer having control over anything…her whole body began to quake violently as she shattered beneath him.
"Good girl, good fucking girl," he growled with dark satisfaction, words of perverse praise that fanned the flames of her disintegration. "Keep going... go," he ordered, the tone of his voice a rudder steering her through her surrender.
The sensation was alien, an uncharted territory where pleasure knew no bounds. The swell of her first true penetration induced climax washed over her, a deluge that cleansed years of repressed longing.
In this pivotal moment, her body capitulated, releasing waves of emotional and physical catharsis as she convulsed under him, a raw and primal dance of release.
A growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he continued to pound her relentlessly, slowly allowing his own climax to build. She still hadn't stopped shaking, her body remained out of control as he met her on the brink of ecstasy.
Finally he succumbed to his pleasure. Finding release and shooting his seed deeply into the confines of her supple cervix. Guttural moans licked her ear as the sound of his climax sent her sprawling over the edge once more as they claimed each other with mutual fervency.
As they fed each other's hunger from their own flesh the thralls of passion consumed them until they found themselves entwined together in a mass of haphazard limbs. Their bodies entangled in an aftermath of primal yearning that could only be momentarily satiated by the merging of one another.
Fingers slowly crept along skin as they relished in the taste and scent of the struggle that had previously ensued.
Legs locked around each other as laughter emerged. In the stillness, he took a pause, his gaze meandering over her features, absorbing the silent language of her sated flush…With this he gave her a sly grin, reinforcing their mutual understanding that their night together had just begun…
This was her doing... his need for her was so acute it left him inflamed and Weiterlesen… weakened with desire.
As she stepped forward to embrace him, he seized her throat with unsteady hands, every ounce of his self control tested to avoid crushing her delicate windpipe.
With an effort, he eased his grasp, only to find his teeth buried in her neck with a ferocious urgency. She let out a cry as her flesh yielded slightly beneath his bite, yet this time, he refrained from consuming her entirely.
His fingernails dug into her flesh, holding her with an unyielding force as he groaned against her neck. His mouth hung open, gasping to temper his ravenous hunger. As he licked at the mark he had created, his tongue moved with the desperate urgency of a wild beast quenching its thirst.
Her screams reverberated in the charged air as he tore off her skirt, swiftly followed by her panties. His body ached with an unnerving need, the sensation akin to the headiest of aphrodisiacs spiked with an excess of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He was intoxicated by desire as he gripped her hair tightly and hurled her forcefully to the ground. The moment she pushed herself up and cast a backward glance at him, his last vestige of self restraint shattered.
"Look what you've done," he snarled, freeing his engorged cock from the confines of his trousers. His hand encircled her throat, the throbbing head of his manhood teasing her slick entrance. He felt her pulse racing, her breaths coming in urgent gasps.
"No, not yet," he growled, pulling back abruptly and flinging her down once again. Lunging forward with predatory grace, he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her ass, showing savage abandon as her screams filled the air and she thrashed wildly, desperate to escape.
“Shut up,” he hissed as he smacked the cheek he'd just imprinted his mark upon, using his thumb to he traced the wound. He was so close to her snatch. Despite her protests he could smell her arousal.
“Oh you like this do you? You stupid fucking whore he chuckled as he slid a finger inside of her. She was dripping wet. “Does your ass get this wet?" he said with laughter strained through clenched teeth. With swift brutality, he withdrew his finger only to drive it with unyielding force into her ass.
"That's it…is this what you wanted?" he snarled, delivering several more stinging slaps across her ass, eliciting a tightening around his invading digit. As he slowly extracted his finger, he replaced it with a medium sized plug, securing it within her slightly gaping orifice.
He wasted no time in flipping her onto her back, his hands encircling her neck, throttling her to emphasize his commands.
"You thought you could just come around me and dangle yourself like a piece of meat? What kind of imbecilic twat begs a beast to crawl through her window?" he spat, his tone laden with ferocity. His grip shifted from her vulnerable throat, entwining in her hair, while his other clawed hand viciously claimed her breast, kneading the soft flesh as a declaration of his dominance.
His veneer of control frayed at the edges as he watched her struggle to draw breath, each desperate gasp chipping away at his patience.
With a harsh smack to her breast, he sank his teeth into the supple flesh of her abdomen, fingers digging into her ass with possessive ferocity before trailing down her thighs, leaving behind searing reminders of his touch.
His arousal, once momentarily subdued, now stirred anew…his cock twitching, throbbing, aching with a primal need. Forcing his fingers past her lips, he shoved his head between her thighs to savor her taste. Yet her teeth clamped down on his hand in defiance, and in response, he unleashed his savagery upon her thigh, his bite drawing crimson beads to the surface.
"Do you prefer this, then?" he snarled, his mouth enveloping a larger swathe of her flesh, biting down again as if to claim her very being with his predatory hunger.
His composure, precariously cobbled together with each swell of restraint, fractured at the slightest whimper, the faintest gasp that slipped from her quivering lips.
"Stop... wait, no," he commanded, his hand clamping on her face, dragging her by her delicate jawbone to her knees. The look in her eyes…wide with terror, tinged with the intoxicating haze of desire…it fueled his craze, igniting a fire within.
"Yes... fuck," he breathed out, his voice but a whisper, his grip on her face relenting as he gave it a series of light, stinging slaps.
"Yes, good..." he murmured, his hands in her hair, manipulating her upright with the ease of a puppeteer hoisting a marionette into position. He leaned close, his breath hot against the shell of her ear as he growled a sinister directive, "Now you're going to worship my cock as if your very existence depends on it…no stupid shit… Misstep, and you'll be unconscious for the parts you'd beg not to." His hiss was a fierce undercurrent to the threat.
The tumultuous look that flickered in her eyes as he discarded her to the ground was the potent catalyst to his madness, erasing all pretense of control. In a swift motion, he hoisted her into the air, pressing her drained body against his own relentless force.
As he drove his cock inside her, her slick warmth enveloped him with an ease that belied the abruptness of his actions, yet the intensity of the moment left her further disoriented.
Her screams melded with the ferocity of her clawing at his back, her body convulsing, tightening around him with a powerful grip. He allowed her a few potent seconds impaled on his length before removing her, only to position her yet again.
"Now... open," he commanded, his voice brimming with dark authority as he slapped his wet cock against her flushed cheeks. Impatience was unnecessary…he plunged into the depths of her throat amidst her heaving breaths.
His relentless thrusts pounded against her, each motion deeper into the cavern of her throat, each sound of her choked sobs and gags fueling his rampant desire.
"Are you okay?" he purred, amusement lacing his tone, an echo of concern merely a shadow within his chuckle. As her ragged gasps filled the air, surrender seemed to unfold across her features in the briefest of moments.
Yet, instead of a verbal response, she seized the moment to attack, her teeth sinking into the flesh at his side with a ferocity mirroring his own.
Undeterred by her biting, a primal rumble vibrated from deep within his chest. His arm slithered around her, his hand moving with deliberate intent as he slipped two fingers back into the welcoming heat of her pussy.
"You're perfect, aren't you?" he growled, his voice thick with raw appreciation and lustful dominance.
His hand withdrew only after a taste of her depths, and with a forceful grip, he pried her off of him, her teeth reluctantly releasing their hold. She fought against his restraint, eager still to bite and suckle the flesh she had claimed as her own.
Seizing her chin with unerring precision, he loomed above her, a sardonic smile dancing across his lips as leaned over and smiled against hers.
He whispered a command…murmured like a seductive spell beckoning her to proceed as he claimed her mouth with an imposing invasion of his tongue.
Her response came without hesitation, her lips suckling at his tongue with voracious eagerness as he grappled with his own rampant desire, his hand encircling his pulsing shaft in a futile attempt to quell its insistence.
Unable to restore his sanity he thrust her away and put a barrier between them, his foot pressed firmly against her breasts.
“Run…” he commanded.
He watched as she slowly scampered to her knees.
“Not fast enough!” he growled, lashing out at her with aimless limbs swiping and colliding with her chin and tender abdomen.
The jarr to her face ignited her sense of self preservation and she darted quickly for the door. It took everything within him to even give her a few seconds head start.
“One…two…” he managed before bolting through the doorway after her.
He didn't care about the hunt nor the chase, he'd been hunting her for months and now…he would finally have her.
The family dog took pursuit as well, concerned about the commotion. As he caught up to her quickly and wrapped one hand around her neck and another over her mouth, her canine companion knew by the scent in the air that this wasn't the time to intervene, this was raw nature at its finest.
The dog pounced around them excitedly before bolting back onto the sofa, settling down as he dragged her back through the hallway and returned her to the bedroom.
Casting her onto the bed he ripped open her side dresser and grasped the silken restraints he'd known were kept there.
He commanded her with a low and menacing growl, "Hold still," as he bound her wrists with a rapid urgency that paid no mind to finesse. The knots were crude, born of necessity rather than artistry… She was his now, and there was no chance of escape.
He vanished into the closet, a place where her private pleasures lay hidden, now subject to his marauding search. His hand, white from the tension, clasped an alloy handle, and he re-emerged as if from the shadows…a predator returning to its prize.
Shaking the tension from his arms, he advanced towards her…the metal tassels at the end of the handle whispered threats like a serpent ready to strike, announcing his impending intent. Grabbing a pair of panties from the drawer's contents sprawled across the floor he shoved them into her mouth.
She could feel the chill of alloy caress the nape of her neck and shoulders as he slowly crept the whip’s tendrils down her back…The chains he left to dangle between her thighs, barely teasing her snatch as he tried to slow his breathing.
Then…the sensation was gone. Everything fell silent and remained that way for an excruciating amount of time. She heard not even a breath slither behind her…it was if he'd vanished all together.
Her senses were taut with the straining suspense…he had honed this wait to a cruel art, each passing moment fraying her resolve until, inevitably, curiosity betrayed her.
She moved, an infinitesimal shift, driven by the desperate need to unveil his next maneuver. Yet it was enough. The moment she stirred, the biting lash of the alloy tendrils kissed her skin, a searing sting across her flesh.
A muffled yelp strained against the fabric wedged between her lips, the panties now a soaked testament to her anxiety and fear.
From the depths of her humiliation and pain, a groan…a sound threaded with the dark pleasure of her submission escaped him as he stood behind her. And then, without mercy, another lash sliced through the air, delivering a blow that was stark in its abruptness, in its uncompromising force.
Once again she felt the bulging head of his cock tease her entrance. Sweet whimpers came crawling up her throat as he continued to tease and torture her. Another abrupt lash found its way searing into her inner thighs and subsequently she found herself snatched up by the hair to watch as the marks bloomed across her flesh.
Briefly she met his gaze. He wasn't snarling nor smiling. His expression haunting, neutral, almost entranced in his headspace.
It was as if each lash had transferred a portion of his emotion into her very essence. His eyes harbored no pain, no love, no concern, no happiness yet in them there was a soothing sense of pure bliss. There it was…the void…staring back at her… if for only a few moments he was allowed to be free from all thoughts and emotions…to feel absolutely nothing.
In his gaze, she was able to fully relax as well, offering her full surrender to the fleeting glimpse of the void. The hollow tranquility of their mutual escape was short lived however…as a grin slowly creeped across his face.
Although the beast had been silenced in those mere moments of her surrendered submission…it was by no means satiated.
He followed the raised welts on her skin with his tongue, a tender contrast to the previous harshness. The softness of his touch emphasized the heat of the welts, creating a tapestry of sensation that held her captive.
His journey continued until his tongue found the more sensitive regions of her flesh, teasing the entrance of her ass with deliberate hunger.
Her response was involuntary, instinctive…she gnawed at the sodden fabric between her lips, moans vibrating through the gag, each one a chorus of her ecstasy. The tracing of her plug with the precise tip of his tongue was exquisite torture, and she writhed under the skillful provocation.
But as fluidly as the sensation had begun, it ceased. He withdrew the plug with a deliberate carelessness that left her momentarily hollow before the void was ripped apart by the searing whip.
The lash engulfed her back, a firebrand that expanded its reach across her skin. The crack split the silence…a herald of pain…and the bite that followed coerced a new tapestry of red upon her skin, one that no tongue could soothe.
The abrupt shock ripped a scream from her throat that caused the panties to crawl from her mouth.
Casting the whip aside as to prevent any uncontrolled chaos he snatched her by the nape of the neck.
“Fuck!” she screamed.
“Not yet…” came his answer, followed by another command to run.
She knew better than to physically hesitate at this point and yet a whimpering “No" of a plea fell from her lips as she struggled to make her way bound off of the bed.
He chuckled in amusement at her writhing form as it slumped off the bed and onto the floor in an attempt to escape.
"There's no running, you idiot. Look at your pathetic attempts." Laughter, callous and taunting, followed as he pressed her face against the rough fabric of the carpet, his actions uncompromising.
With calculated patience, he introduced a lubricant into her exposed and yielding entrance, the cool slickness of the liquid promising more to come.
It traced a chilling path down her trembling thighs as she complied with his stern command, "Stand up." Her movements were clumsy as the cold liquid caressed her canal, it dribbled down her thighs as she fumbled awkwardly to her knees.
Without a moment's reprieve he snaked his hand around her throat, hoisting her up slightly as he forced himself inside her. Her primal moans snuffed out by his hands quick snap to cover her mouth…He waited for the shaking and screaming to subside before lowering her head back down to the carpet.
Using her bondage as leverage he continued to thrust into her mercilessly, her screams now melting into ragged gasps and moans of ascending subspace.
The pleasure engulfed her mind, pounding her consciousness into a limbo where the lines between the divine and utter destruction began to blur.
Her voice, quivering with the weight of her predicament, rang forth with a mantra of gratitude amidst the chaos, a feeble attempt to find solace in surrender. "T-thank you," she murmured, the phrase spilling out relentlessly.
His inquiry was sharp with mock bewilderment, echoing in the space between them. "Thank you?" he echoed with a tainted incredulity. His voice turned to a growl, laden with scorn, as he posed the cruel rhetorical question. "For what? For using you like the little fucking whore you are, for fucking your shit up?" His fingers raked across her hips with a sadistic claim, drawing blood to the surface and leaving her branded with shallow puncture wounds.
As he wove his fingers through her hair, gripping with a force that brooked no resistance, her body was contorted and twisted to his will. "Keep saying it, keep fucking saying it," he ordered, the command resonating with the power of his dominance.
The words became her litany, "Thank you… thank you," escaping through sobs, her tears etching lines of both degradation and release upon her face.
"Fuck,” his whispered curse betrayed his precipice of control… his arousal edged to the brink by her litany of thanks, her tears, her very surrender. In a swift motion borne of his own overwhelming need, he released her, realigning himself to press against her yielding lips anew.
"Clean it off," his command was a guttural directive, rough with need, as he forced himself into her mouth…her compliance, his for the taking. His breaths came jagged and unsteady, his claws raking across his own skin in a desperate ploy for anchorage amidst the storm of his own making.
Consumed by an insatiable hunger, the kind that gnawed at his very soul, his body quivered, every fiber straining under the intensity of his yearning. Desire coiled tightly around his reason, driving him towards the precipice of madness.
The snarl that ripped from his throat was laced with frustration and venom. "Fuck this, fuck this, and fuck you." The words were a tempest as he withdrew from her throat, leaving her gasping, her purpose momentarily abandoned.
Pacing like a caged beast, he seized a pair of scissors from the depths of the closeted craft box, his actions a chaotic whirl. With haste and a modicum of care that belied his boiling frenzy, he snipped through the restraints that bound her wrists, the blades trembling in his grasp, dangerously close to turning her flesh to ribbons.
As the silken threads and the scissors clattered against the wall, discarded remnants of their savage dance, he issued her one final, feral growl. “You think you can stop me?" "Stop me," he taunted, before lunging at her with reckless abandon.
As the maelstrom swirled, she exploded into wakefulness, the adrenaline forging clarity of purpose and power. It was survival, raw and unyielding, that electrified her muscles and sharpened her mind.
Her hand, seeking leverage, tangled fiercely into his hair, a grip both desperate and strategic. Her legs coiled tightly, knees drawing protectively forward, preparing to thrust outward. The other arm pivoted, a shield against his predatory advance, diverting his hand as it lunged for her vulnerable throat.
Her teeth, a weapon of primitive instinct, found his flesh, sinking into his arm with ferocious precision. Guided by a blend of fear and fury, she harnessed his captured mane, twisting, forcing her knee to connect with his abdomen. The contact elicited from him a hiss…a sound that she clung to as her last efforts began to wane.
His retaliation came swift… a wedge driven between her resisting thighs, his presence an unrelenting force. "Not even close," he whispered, the mockery a velvet cloak draped over the cold steel of his intent. His bite on her ear was the harbinger of his imminent invasion, a firm, possessive claim before he drove himself into her core.
A scream seized the air as she grappled for purchase, nails raking his flesh, a frantic attempt to anchor herself to something, anything, in the tempest of his possession. She fought against the crushing weight that sought to envelop her, his dominance a relentless pressure that threatened to consume her very being.
“I knew you couldn't fight…why would you fight something that you were so pathetically begging for? I could sense your desperation, for this…for me…for your Master.” his voice was taunt, dripping with disdain.
He was right…she had no further protests. Slowly her legs wrapped around his waist as she pulled herself deeper into the breeding position. Her lips collided with his neck, sucking, licking and nibbling at the weathered flesh.
Her whimpers came forth, longer and more drawn out as she began climbing once more into realms of ecstasy. He could feel her grip loosening as she slipped away. His hand clasped around her throat, wrestling her breath from her lungs as she proceeded to thrash about.
"Cum, cum now," he demanded, his voice a dark incantation. "Or you'll lose consciousness trying." His words were a grim promise, a boundary set where pleasure and peril blurred.
Her compliance was not a choice but preservation. Her body stiffened, a bowstring pulled taut, as her ascent was forcibly hastened. Beneath him, she struggled, each movement an erratic dance choreographed by his accelerating thrusts into her cervix.
In her eyes, the duality of terror and anticipation mingled…he saw the abyss into which she teetered…a precipice of ecstasy she resisted to plunge from. His perception sharpened by sadistic insight, he discerned the ruse as her muscles contracted in feigned climax.
“No!” he growled as he released her throat and grabbed her by the back of the neck to watch as he carved his way in and out of her.
The sudden inflow of air was salvation, a violent rush filling her starved lungs as he crashed back into her with the relentless force of a storm surge. In that moment she was able to let go… no longer having control over anything…her whole body began to quake violently as she shattered beneath him.
"Good girl, good fucking girl," he growled with dark satisfaction, words of perverse praise that fanned the flames of her disintegration. "Keep going... go," he ordered, the tone of his voice a rudder steering her through her surrender.
The sensation was alien, an uncharted territory where pleasure knew no bounds. The swell of her first true penetration induced climax washed over her, a deluge that cleansed years of repressed longing.
In this pivotal moment, her body capitulated, releasing waves of emotional and physical catharsis as she convulsed under him, a raw and primal dance of release.
A growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he continued to pound her relentlessly, slowly allowing his own climax to build. She still hadn't stopped shaking, her body remained out of control as he met her on the brink of ecstasy.
Finally he succumbed to his pleasure. Finding release and shooting his seed deeply into the confines of her supple cervix. Guttural moans licked her ear as the sound of his climax sent her sprawling over the edge once more as they claimed each other with mutual fervency.
As they fed each other's hunger from their own flesh the thralls of passion consumed them until they found themselves entwined together in a mass of haphazard limbs. Their bodies entangled in an aftermath of primal yearning that could only be momentarily satiated by the merging of one another.
Fingers slowly crept along skin as they relished in the taste and scent of the struggle that had previously ensued.
Legs locked around each other as laughter emerged. In the stillness, he took a pause, his gaze meandering over her features, absorbing the silent language of her sated flush…With this he gave her a sly grin, reinforcing their mutual understanding that their night together had just begun…
Gefällt mirMatthewJDB96, Stinger459und 1 weitere…
Fuck around and find out ?
Please ?
I'm pretty much here to vent via writing and to coax a big beautiful beast in through my window so I may keep Him in my metaphorical basement indefinitely.
(Sapiophile and Demisexual)
There's quite a bit to be said about me... but feel free to ask anything. Weiterlesen… Keep in mind though that if you initiate conversation with sexual undertones it's extremely unlikely that you'll get a response from me. Yep...
Please ?
I'm pretty much here to vent via writing and to coax a big beautiful beast in through my window so I may keep Him in my metaphorical basement indefinitely.
(Sapiophile and Demisexual)
There's quite a bit to be said about me... but feel free to ask anything. Weiterlesen… Keep in mind though that if you initiate conversation with sexual undertones it's extremely unlikely that you'll get a response from me. Yep...
A Birthday of Apocalyptic Proportions...
She stirs from the realm of dreams, a soft yawn parting her lips as dawn's tender rays caress her face. Her robe slips, baring her shoulders to the cool whisper of morning air. She inhales deeply, the rich scent of coffee beckoning her to consciousness…yet, Weiterlesen… intermingled with it, the acrid tang of smoke. Eyes widening, she springs up, the silken fabric cascading off her in a flow of urgent motion. “What the hell is on fi-" she begins.
"Happy birthday to you..." His voice slithers into the darkness, a chilling melody that wraps around the room like a cold mist. Crouched low, a figure cradles a cake, the flickering candles casting grotesque shadows against the walls. Each note quivers with spectral dissonance, as if sung by a choir of wraiths hidden within the folds of the night. The familiar tune, now a dirge, portends an unknown fate as He continues, "Happy birthday to you..."
The timbre of His chant skews, a scant degree away from sane, each syllable laden with a funereal chill. As the melody curls into the somber air, it feels less a celebration and more a summoning…an invocation of the macabre to attend this most peculiar of birthdays.
Her response is curt, "No." However, He remains unbowed, His voice tinged with an amusement as dark as the abyss itself. "Come on…birthdays are fun," He insists, a Cheshire grin unfurling to reveal the depths of His malevolence. Her gaze falls upon the grotesque cake, its three candles a trifecta of derision. "Since I'm so generous," His voice cuts through the silence, as sharp as a knife's edge, "you are bestowed three wishes…three and only three. No loopholes for the greedy heart and thrice must your desires be spoken.”
Desperation wings her feet as she makes a dash for liberty, only to be thwarted by the sinewy appendages that He commands. They entwine her with an almost tender ferocity, a reminder of the inextricability of her situation and return her to the sanctum of the bed. There, in the shadow of her own hesitance, she is submerged in thought, hours becoming her silent sentries. Finally, the moment ripens and she leans forward, her breath a whisper against the flame, extinguishing the first candle…a beacon quenched in the ocean of choice.
“My first wish is for the end of needless suffering…if there is a kind of suffering that offers no lessons or growth, to be eradicated from the human condition. This does not remove pain or tribulation as a whole, only erases those current conditions humanity has yet to cure. This will not lead to a false sense of security and reduce humanity's drive to identify and counteract emerging adversities that are not initially recognized as needless.” She claims hesitantly.
Her inaugural wish echoes into the silence, meeting with no ripple upon the stoic surface of His face. "Next," He urges, a solitary utterance amidst the expanse of her anticipation.
She blows out the second candle…
“My second wish is for a clear cut, undivided and collective understanding of what is considered 'good' or 'better' to be instilled in the hearts of humanity. A universal agreement that brings some peace and prevents major conflict over differences in moral judgment. This does not remove freedom of will or dampen free thought, it serves as a balm in conflicts among themselves. This will not suppress individual and cultural identities, leading to an extreme loss of diversity in the complexity of ethical perspectives and philosophical approaches.” She admits with a sigh.
He inclines his head in acknowledgement, and then, with a gesture of finality, He waits patiently for her final wish.
“My final wish is for a steady seed of desire for personal and collective growth, an innate motivation to strive to achieve a world based on their universal understanding of 'good' or 'best'. This wish is to keep humanity moving forward, to evolve and improve, even in the absence of immense suffering… This will not cause minority views to be undervalued or oppressed, leading to a tyranny in which dissenting voices are silenced in the name of collective ambition.” She pauses before adding.
“Humanity will still face the struggle of accomplishing such change, they will still experience the labor pains of productive growth. There will be new challenges that arise in consequence to such alterations in the human condition. There will still be wars, death, conflicts in opinion as to how to achieve what everyone knows is best…Yet there would be more hope that humanity could endure a bit longer with life pulling some of its punches and humans having a clear goal on what's best.”
"Very well then," He murmurs, the darkness now more pronounced with the candle's demise and the sun's meager offering scarcely lapping through the curtains. "Your wishes are granted."
Her alarm is instant, her body coiling into a visceral expression of fear…and He savors it.
"I'm just fucking around," He confesses after a time, a touch of cruelty to his confession…
“I possess no such wish granting abilities…and to indulge such fantasies would be to ignore the balance of action and consequence that rules us all."
Her whispered "Oh thank God" meets His ears, to which he deadpans, "You're welcome," depositing the cake near her coffee and vacating the room in His usual enigmatic exit.
She stirs from the realm of dreams, a soft yawn parting her lips as dawn's tender rays caress her face. Her robe slips, baring her shoulders to the cool whisper of morning air. She inhales deeply, the rich scent of coffee beckoning her to consciousness…yet, Weiterlesen… intermingled with it, the acrid tang of smoke. Eyes widening, she springs up, the silken fabric cascading off her in a flow of urgent motion. “What the hell is on fi-" she begins.
"Happy birthday to you..." His voice slithers into the darkness, a chilling melody that wraps around the room like a cold mist. Crouched low, a figure cradles a cake, the flickering candles casting grotesque shadows against the walls. Each note quivers with spectral dissonance, as if sung by a choir of wraiths hidden within the folds of the night. The familiar tune, now a dirge, portends an unknown fate as He continues, "Happy birthday to you..."
The timbre of His chant skews, a scant degree away from sane, each syllable laden with a funereal chill. As the melody curls into the somber air, it feels less a celebration and more a summoning…an invocation of the macabre to attend this most peculiar of birthdays.
Her response is curt, "No." However, He remains unbowed, His voice tinged with an amusement as dark as the abyss itself. "Come on…birthdays are fun," He insists, a Cheshire grin unfurling to reveal the depths of His malevolence. Her gaze falls upon the grotesque cake, its three candles a trifecta of derision. "Since I'm so generous," His voice cuts through the silence, as sharp as a knife's edge, "you are bestowed three wishes…three and only three. No loopholes for the greedy heart and thrice must your desires be spoken.”
Desperation wings her feet as she makes a dash for liberty, only to be thwarted by the sinewy appendages that He commands. They entwine her with an almost tender ferocity, a reminder of the inextricability of her situation and return her to the sanctum of the bed. There, in the shadow of her own hesitance, she is submerged in thought, hours becoming her silent sentries. Finally, the moment ripens and she leans forward, her breath a whisper against the flame, extinguishing the first candle…a beacon quenched in the ocean of choice.
“My first wish is for the end of needless suffering…if there is a kind of suffering that offers no lessons or growth, to be eradicated from the human condition. This does not remove pain or tribulation as a whole, only erases those current conditions humanity has yet to cure. This will not lead to a false sense of security and reduce humanity's drive to identify and counteract emerging adversities that are not initially recognized as needless.” She claims hesitantly.
Her inaugural wish echoes into the silence, meeting with no ripple upon the stoic surface of His face. "Next," He urges, a solitary utterance amidst the expanse of her anticipation.
She blows out the second candle…
“My second wish is for a clear cut, undivided and collective understanding of what is considered 'good' or 'better' to be instilled in the hearts of humanity. A universal agreement that brings some peace and prevents major conflict over differences in moral judgment. This does not remove freedom of will or dampen free thought, it serves as a balm in conflicts among themselves. This will not suppress individual and cultural identities, leading to an extreme loss of diversity in the complexity of ethical perspectives and philosophical approaches.” She admits with a sigh.
He inclines his head in acknowledgement, and then, with a gesture of finality, He waits patiently for her final wish.
“My final wish is for a steady seed of desire for personal and collective growth, an innate motivation to strive to achieve a world based on their universal understanding of 'good' or 'best'. This wish is to keep humanity moving forward, to evolve and improve, even in the absence of immense suffering… This will not cause minority views to be undervalued or oppressed, leading to a tyranny in which dissenting voices are silenced in the name of collective ambition.” She pauses before adding.
“Humanity will still face the struggle of accomplishing such change, they will still experience the labor pains of productive growth. There will be new challenges that arise in consequence to such alterations in the human condition. There will still be wars, death, conflicts in opinion as to how to achieve what everyone knows is best…Yet there would be more hope that humanity could endure a bit longer with life pulling some of its punches and humans having a clear goal on what's best.”
"Very well then," He murmurs, the darkness now more pronounced with the candle's demise and the sun's meager offering scarcely lapping through the curtains. "Your wishes are granted."
Her alarm is instant, her body coiling into a visceral expression of fear…and He savors it.
"I'm just fucking around," He confesses after a time, a touch of cruelty to his confession…
“I possess no such wish granting abilities…and to indulge such fantasies would be to ignore the balance of action and consequence that rules us all."
Her whispered "Oh thank God" meets His ears, to which he deadpans, "You're welcome," depositing the cake near her coffee and vacating the room in His usual enigmatic exit.
Gefällt mirSen20, skidream120und 2 weitere…
O.R. The Puppies' Nightfall Cavort
(Hovering above the imminent spectacle, She adopts the mantle of an all seeing scribe, Her lips curling with mirth at such a peculiar entreaty. The thrill of dictating the imminent capers quickens Her pulse…She acquiesces to play the puppeteer of prose, all the Weiterlesen… while conspiring to stitch Her own shadowy humor into the fabric of the tale.)
…
In the quietude that enveloped the abode, He escorts her to the bedroom…a sanctum bathed in lunar glow. There they shed the daily armor, those societal veils that now pooled at their feet, forgotten. The blindfold He places upon her is not just a strip of fabric but a key to the carnal game they embark upon, its darkness heightening every remaining sense.
With the patience of a predator, He delineates the contours of this sensual contest. The space between them, now a terrain to be silently traversed, senses sharpened for the hunt. They would commence at the room's extremities, each other's scent the only guide in this labyrinth void of sight. The objective…to use only the minimalistic arsenal nature bestowed upon them…sound, smell, touch…until one can claim the other, crowning their pursuit with a nose pressed against the other's bottom.
And to commemorate the conquest, a bite…not marred by anger or malice, but marked by the domineering thrill of victory. A physical testament to the skill and stealth utilized in their silent chase. The constraints are clear… no brutal gouging, no clenched fists striking, no lingering grasp upon the other's silken strands. Discipline mingled with desire, a delicate balance to uphold.
As the rules crystallize in the dimly lit chamber, she acknowledges with a smile that dances in the darkness…a silent concord struck. The stakes are as enticing as the hunt itself, the victor to be lavished with the spoils of oral homage by the vanquished. With the finality of His blindfold in place, the stage is set, and the game is afoot.
She's a fervent little thing, her eagerness palpable as she lunges into motion at the command. Like a creature more wild than tame, she charges, her body colliding with obstacles, the thud of flesh against wood punctuates the silence. Bruises blossom on her skin, the dull ache a testament to her relentless pursuit.
He, a being of patience, relishes the symphony of her haste. He listens, a shadow against the wall, a smirk playing upon unseen lips as she fumbles in her frantic quest. The soft thud of her knees meeting ground, the scrape of her palms…music to his predatory ears. When He moves, it is with deliberate intent. He stands…His footsteps though hushed, send a ripple of alarm through her.
Her reaction is swift, her body tensing as she sits up to guard her backside. Within moments she feels His foot caress her abdomen. She clings to Him, climbing…a spider scaling towards the web of victory. Yet He is a tempest cloaked in calm, with a surge of strength, He lifts her, denying her the finality she seeks. “Good game…you tried your best.” He chuckles in a way that belies the weight of his dominance.
In one fluid movement, He presses his nose into the softness of her behind…a conqueror laying claim…his teeth sinking into her flesh. She releases a sound, somewhere between surprise and acknowledgment…a yelp swallowed by the thick air of defeat. He deposits her gently into the corner of the room, her body a curled testament to the game's end.
As the blindfold is stripped away, her sight is returned, not to the familiar contours of His face, but to the grotesque visage of a mask, echoing the nightmarish aesthetic of Pyramid Head. It is a visage that chills the room as a strobe light has begun flickering behind Him. With a hand to her chin, He tilts her gaze, commanding her surrender with His presence alone.
"Open," He growls, the word a command that unravels her resistance...as she complies, He leans forward, the act not just of claiming His prize but marking His territory. Her mouth, the altar upon which He bestows His victorious worship.
(“The rest just use your imagination.” She giggles.)
(Hovering above the imminent spectacle, She adopts the mantle of an all seeing scribe, Her lips curling with mirth at such a peculiar entreaty. The thrill of dictating the imminent capers quickens Her pulse…She acquiesces to play the puppeteer of prose, all the Weiterlesen… while conspiring to stitch Her own shadowy humor into the fabric of the tale.)
…
In the quietude that enveloped the abode, He escorts her to the bedroom…a sanctum bathed in lunar glow. There they shed the daily armor, those societal veils that now pooled at their feet, forgotten. The blindfold He places upon her is not just a strip of fabric but a key to the carnal game they embark upon, its darkness heightening every remaining sense.
With the patience of a predator, He delineates the contours of this sensual contest. The space between them, now a terrain to be silently traversed, senses sharpened for the hunt. They would commence at the room's extremities, each other's scent the only guide in this labyrinth void of sight. The objective…to use only the minimalistic arsenal nature bestowed upon them…sound, smell, touch…until one can claim the other, crowning their pursuit with a nose pressed against the other's bottom.
And to commemorate the conquest, a bite…not marred by anger or malice, but marked by the domineering thrill of victory. A physical testament to the skill and stealth utilized in their silent chase. The constraints are clear… no brutal gouging, no clenched fists striking, no lingering grasp upon the other's silken strands. Discipline mingled with desire, a delicate balance to uphold.
As the rules crystallize in the dimly lit chamber, she acknowledges with a smile that dances in the darkness…a silent concord struck. The stakes are as enticing as the hunt itself, the victor to be lavished with the spoils of oral homage by the vanquished. With the finality of His blindfold in place, the stage is set, and the game is afoot.
She's a fervent little thing, her eagerness palpable as she lunges into motion at the command. Like a creature more wild than tame, she charges, her body colliding with obstacles, the thud of flesh against wood punctuates the silence. Bruises blossom on her skin, the dull ache a testament to her relentless pursuit.
He, a being of patience, relishes the symphony of her haste. He listens, a shadow against the wall, a smirk playing upon unseen lips as she fumbles in her frantic quest. The soft thud of her knees meeting ground, the scrape of her palms…music to his predatory ears. When He moves, it is with deliberate intent. He stands…His footsteps though hushed, send a ripple of alarm through her.
Her reaction is swift, her body tensing as she sits up to guard her backside. Within moments she feels His foot caress her abdomen. She clings to Him, climbing…a spider scaling towards the web of victory. Yet He is a tempest cloaked in calm, with a surge of strength, He lifts her, denying her the finality she seeks. “Good game…you tried your best.” He chuckles in a way that belies the weight of his dominance.
In one fluid movement, He presses his nose into the softness of her behind…a conqueror laying claim…his teeth sinking into her flesh. She releases a sound, somewhere between surprise and acknowledgment…a yelp swallowed by the thick air of defeat. He deposits her gently into the corner of the room, her body a curled testament to the game's end.
As the blindfold is stripped away, her sight is returned, not to the familiar contours of His face, but to the grotesque visage of a mask, echoing the nightmarish aesthetic of Pyramid Head. It is a visage that chills the room as a strobe light has begun flickering behind Him. With a hand to her chin, He tilts her gaze, commanding her surrender with His presence alone.
"Open," He growls, the word a command that unravels her resistance...as she complies, He leans forward, the act not just of claiming His prize but marking His territory. Her mouth, the altar upon which He bestows His victorious worship.
(“The rest just use your imagination.” She giggles.)
Gefällt mirbird27, MyPleasure, BBCNAsheville
No Multiple partners
No Non-monogamous dynamics
No Age & Race play
No scat
No switching
No Non-monogamous dynamics
No Age & Race play
No scat
No switching
Quiver's Lament… The Archer's Angelic Burden
Like a sprite, she darts through the woodland maze, propelled by a quirky impulse to consult a grand bear on matters of the heart. Her eyes alight with mischief, she encounters the creature and implores him for his best flirtatious quips. He obliges, Weiterlesen… albeit with a warning of their possible cheesy nature. Just as she braces herself for the quip she thinks will come, the bear's outline blurs, morphing into an ancient tree's sturdy trunk. A flush of mirth colors her cheeks as she realizes her folly, tipping a woozy nod to the tree, "Excuse me, Sir…wrong person," she addresses the tree before she bounds away, echoing with giggles through the forest's hush.
Approaching a stream, the lunar glow adorns her, a soft sparkle against the canvas of night, emanating from the enchanted waters at her side. Here, a man appears. He observes her as an angel seemingly descended to grace this very moment with her presence. Within him, a quiet yearning stirs, pondering if love might ever bridge the gulf between his war-torn existence and her heavenly purity. Nevertheless, transfixed by her brilliance, he finds himself inexorably pulled into her sphere.
”Might you, so resplendent, ever cherish one as wounded as I?” he asks. Compelled by the sheer magnetism of her incandescence, he is drawn closer, as if her light is a beacon guiding him out of the darkness.
Her attention is captured in an instant, as if yanked by an invisible string towards his presence. The word "wounded" plucks at her compassionate nature, yet there's a steeliness to her bearing that belies a readiness to act, should the need for self-preservation arise.
“Around here, the unseen threats are as numerous as the leaves…” she remarks, eyes narrowing with a mix of intrigue and mistrust.
He moves closer, the innocent cast of his demeanor suggesting nothing more than a man bewildered, bereft of armaments… simply lost. Yet the forest holds its breath as the abrupt sound of snapping twigs to her right alerts her to the potential of hidden dangers.
Her attention stays upon the man drawing near, noting his lack of armaments, an embodiment of vulnerability rather than threat. Nevertheless, her senses are razor-sharp, primed at the edges of her sight, as the subtle prickle along her nape heralds an unseen presence.
"Here.." she elongates the call, a beckoning drawl, "kitty kitty..here..." the tension builds, a playful yet ominous lilt to her voice, "...kitty kitty kitty.”
Her tongue clicks, a methodical and measured sound, reverberating through the trees, more akin to the grandiose tick of a revered grandfather clock than a call to a feline friend.
Her keen gaze surveys the dense thicket, fingers tightening around her bow as she grips the coiled pressure pad switch with seasoned preference, the bow responding to her touch as if it were a living extension of her will.
The light from the bow's stabilizer cuts through the night, stirring the secrets hidden in the underbrush. "Reveal your mysteries," she demands, her voice an intoxicating blend of command and curiosity. "And while you're at it, enlighten me…what… is a pleasure sadist?" her tone laced with the thrill of the unknown and the confidence of one who knows the silent dance of predator and prey.
With the ferocity of a starved lion, the man explodes from the underbrush, his roar a cacophony of unbridled aggression, "Let me show you!" The words barely escape his frothing lips before her arrow pirouettes through the air, a swift harbinger of death. It makes its home deep in his gullet, silencing his snarl with a gurgle of dark irony as blood and spittle paint a macabre Jackson Pollock on the foliage. "None. Of. That…" she states unaffected…her words slicing through the grotesque silence. She twirls, her gaze returning to the other man, finger wagging from the lifeless heap to him.
The term "angel" falls softly from her lips, a contemplative murmur, as though she's reconnecting with the essence of the word itself. She relinquishes her bow's tension, setting it tenderly by her side.
Delving into her pack, her fingers brush against the relic of a halo, an artifact that whispers of a role she bears with ambivalence. With a solemn gesture, she places it upon her head…a crown of forced sainthood in a world gone awry. Her weathered facade softens reluctantly, yielding to an expression of tender care, a conflicted beacon in the encroaching darkness. “Pray tell, Sir…” Her voice conceals the inner battle she wages, the halo's weight a crown of thorns, yet her smile remains unwavering, “what do they call you?”
Like a sprite, she darts through the woodland maze, propelled by a quirky impulse to consult a grand bear on matters of the heart. Her eyes alight with mischief, she encounters the creature and implores him for his best flirtatious quips. He obliges, Weiterlesen… albeit with a warning of their possible cheesy nature. Just as she braces herself for the quip she thinks will come, the bear's outline blurs, morphing into an ancient tree's sturdy trunk. A flush of mirth colors her cheeks as she realizes her folly, tipping a woozy nod to the tree, "Excuse me, Sir…wrong person," she addresses the tree before she bounds away, echoing with giggles through the forest's hush.
Approaching a stream, the lunar glow adorns her, a soft sparkle against the canvas of night, emanating from the enchanted waters at her side. Here, a man appears. He observes her as an angel seemingly descended to grace this very moment with her presence. Within him, a quiet yearning stirs, pondering if love might ever bridge the gulf between his war-torn existence and her heavenly purity. Nevertheless, transfixed by her brilliance, he finds himself inexorably pulled into her sphere.
”Might you, so resplendent, ever cherish one as wounded as I?” he asks. Compelled by the sheer magnetism of her incandescence, he is drawn closer, as if her light is a beacon guiding him out of the darkness.
Her attention is captured in an instant, as if yanked by an invisible string towards his presence. The word "wounded" plucks at her compassionate nature, yet there's a steeliness to her bearing that belies a readiness to act, should the need for self-preservation arise.
“Around here, the unseen threats are as numerous as the leaves…” she remarks, eyes narrowing with a mix of intrigue and mistrust.
He moves closer, the innocent cast of his demeanor suggesting nothing more than a man bewildered, bereft of armaments… simply lost. Yet the forest holds its breath as the abrupt sound of snapping twigs to her right alerts her to the potential of hidden dangers.
Her attention stays upon the man drawing near, noting his lack of armaments, an embodiment of vulnerability rather than threat. Nevertheless, her senses are razor-sharp, primed at the edges of her sight, as the subtle prickle along her nape heralds an unseen presence.
"Here.." she elongates the call, a beckoning drawl, "kitty kitty..here..." the tension builds, a playful yet ominous lilt to her voice, "...kitty kitty kitty.”
Her tongue clicks, a methodical and measured sound, reverberating through the trees, more akin to the grandiose tick of a revered grandfather clock than a call to a feline friend.
Her keen gaze surveys the dense thicket, fingers tightening around her bow as she grips the coiled pressure pad switch with seasoned preference, the bow responding to her touch as if it were a living extension of her will.
The light from the bow's stabilizer cuts through the night, stirring the secrets hidden in the underbrush. "Reveal your mysteries," she demands, her voice an intoxicating blend of command and curiosity. "And while you're at it, enlighten me…what… is a pleasure sadist?" her tone laced with the thrill of the unknown and the confidence of one who knows the silent dance of predator and prey.
With the ferocity of a starved lion, the man explodes from the underbrush, his roar a cacophony of unbridled aggression, "Let me show you!" The words barely escape his frothing lips before her arrow pirouettes through the air, a swift harbinger of death. It makes its home deep in his gullet, silencing his snarl with a gurgle of dark irony as blood and spittle paint a macabre Jackson Pollock on the foliage. "None. Of. That…" she states unaffected…her words slicing through the grotesque silence. She twirls, her gaze returning to the other man, finger wagging from the lifeless heap to him.
The term "angel" falls softly from her lips, a contemplative murmur, as though she's reconnecting with the essence of the word itself. She relinquishes her bow's tension, setting it tenderly by her side.
Delving into her pack, her fingers brush against the relic of a halo, an artifact that whispers of a role she bears with ambivalence. With a solemn gesture, she places it upon her head…a crown of forced sainthood in a world gone awry. Her weathered facade softens reluctantly, yielding to an expression of tender care, a conflicted beacon in the encroaching darkness. “Pray tell, Sir…” Her voice conceals the inner battle she wages, the halo's weight a crown of thorns, yet her smile remains unwavering, “what do they call you?”