Page 35 of Stalking Ginevra

I shake my head, trying to protest, but I’m silenced by the gag. My tongue pushes against the tape, but it’s stuck fast. All I can do is whimper as his grip tightens in my hair, lighting up my scalp with sparks of pain.

A deep, belly laugh echoes through the helmet. My heart lifts. Maybe he was joking. Maybe all he really wanted was the hand job. Leaning down, he rips the tape from my mouth and pulls out the panties.

“Kittens can’t devour their cream when they’re gagged,” he says, his voice full of mirth. “Go on, little Ginny. Enjoy your delicious treat.”

I tilt my head to stare up at him, my vision blurring with tears. The question spills out before I can stop myself from making matters worse. “Why are you doing this?”

“Do you want me to parade you outside on a collar and leash?” he snarls.

Panic seizes my chest, my breath stuttering at the thought of being displayed like an animal in public. Without hesitating, I turned to the spilled cum and lower my head. My tongue darts out to take the first tentative taste. His release is salty, slightly bitter, but not as bad as I feared.

He crouches at my side, inspecting my progress.

I lick fast, hoping to end the humiliation. Maybe he’ll be satisfied, lose interest, and leave. Each swipe of my tongue feels like a battle—pride clashing with fear—but I drag it across the floor, desperate to finish.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snaps.

A heavy foot presses down on my back, forcing me to slow. “Savor it.” His voice is dark, demanding. “Appreciate the flavor of my cum. Relish in its taste. Show me how much you love it.”

A sob builds in my chest, but I force it back.

My body trembles, although I can’t tell if it’s out of fear or arousal twisting in my gut. Either way, the emotion is unwanted.I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me shatter. I will myself to focus on anything—the coldness of the floor, the distant sound of a ticking clock—but the heat between my legs intensifies, clawing at my insides with every breath. It’s a sick fire I can’t extinguish. Sobs build in my chest, as heat and wetness pool between my thighs.

This is so depraved, so degrading. I hate every moment, but my traitorous body responds to the humiliation with a sick, twisted need. I’ve never been more aroused in my life, and the realization only deepens my shame. The wetness slicking my thighs makes me feel filthy, the heat throbbing deep inside a betrayal I can’t suppress.

He leans so close that the material of his visor cools my skin. “What sweet, little noises. Are you enjoying this, kitten?”

His words heighten my shame, yet I can’t hold back this forbidden desire. It courses through my veins like molten temptation. Each lick of the salty fluid brings with it a depth of arousal that makes the muscles in my pussy flutter. It isn’t just the act that gets me excited. It’s the way he watches me like I’m his own private show.

For the first time in years, I don’t just feel degraded but desired.

I shake off that thought, swallowing back the tears threatening to spill. This is all wrong. I shouldn’t enjoy being this creature’s plaything. The heat between my legs intensifies, and clenching my muscles does nothing to hold back a surge of need. It's like being trapped in a vessel I can't control. Even as I complete that thought, more arousal streams down my inner thighs, making me whimper.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” His voice is a low growl, laced with dark amusement that sends a shiver down my spine. “Look at you, so eager to please. Such a filthy little slut.”

I can’t let him see how much his words stir my inner darkness—a shadowed corner of my psyche I barely understand, a place steeped in shame.

“Answer me,” he growls.

“Yes.” My voice trembles.

His laughter is soft, mocking, a sound that wraps around my throat like a noose. “Eager little slut probably wants more.”

My breath hitches with the need to escape this torment, even for a moment. But there’s no getting away from the depravity that’s invaded my soul.

“Do you want to come, filthy kitten?” he asks, sounding almost tender.

Need claws at my chest, relentless and merciless, driving me to the edge of madness. There’s no denying how my thighs clench, aching for release. With a desperate jerk of my head, I nod.

He closes the distance, crouching near enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his huge form. Heat and musk and the salty tang of his semen takes control of my senses. I want to come so badly that if he leaves me in this state of need, I’ll die.

“Look at me.”

I whimper.

He grips my chin, forcing my head up until I meet his visor’s reflective surface. I can’t see his eyes, but I feel them burning through what’s left of my defenses, leaving me stripped and raw.

“You’re pathetic,” he murmurs, his gloved thumb stroking my jaw in a mockery of affection. “So desperate, so willing to debase yourself for a stranger. Is this what you’ve become? A whore who’ll do anything to get off?”

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