Page 80 of 'Tis the season of Wicked Deeds

Understanding dawns on me, bringing a rush of heat to my cheeks at his kinky mind, when he attaches them to the long chains of my choker. I realize I’m in a trap because when I pull at my wrists, the collar tightens around my neck.

He grins dangerously and warns, “Don’t pull too hard.”

It’s almost a dare and a threat because I just know he will do something to make it impossible for me to keep my hands still.

Then he goes to prove it.

Ignoring me like I’m nothing but a hole, he grabs the sides of my head and thrusts his massive length to the back of my throat.

My ring gag allowing him full control.

Spittle runs down my chin in a sloppy mess. My tears mix with mascara as he rams his cock repeatedly.

“Squeeze your tits,” he grunts, buried deep, blackening my vision for a second.

I’ve barely gulped in oxygen and cupped my breasts when he plows my innocent mouth again. I choke. But I can’t ignore the goosebumps lacing my skin.

The rising ache in my pussy.

The urge to be filled.

I pinch and pull at my nipples, loving him losing control as he watches. I’m bound and gagged for his use. A glory hole. His naughty slave.

Just when I think he’ll come, he pulls out but doesn’t remove my gag.

“Stand up.” He tugs at the leash.

I rise on jelly legs and before I can find my footing, he turns and bends me over the dresser with my palms slapping on the surface.

A scream rips through my throat when his cock impales me in one brutal shove.

“K-Kiingg.” His name comes out garbled. The mean gag, restricting my speech.

My whole body jerks forward from the impact.

Then, it’s rocking rhythmically like a rag doll as he drills into my pussy, grunting like a beast behind me. When my head drops from the onslaught of sensations, he yanks it back by fisting a handful of my hair.

Our eyes meet in the mirror.

I don’t recognize myself.

Or him. There’s no sign of the same gentleman who fed me breakfast and took me to meet his family.

Just a demonic Master enjoying his slave’s holes.

I’m a canvas of his beautiful marks. His toys.

His large and sexy, tatted frame looms behind, crowding me. Groping my right breast as leverage, he powers into my hole harder and deeper.

“Touch your clit.”

I must have forgotten about the cuffs attached to the chocker in my lust-filled haze, because it tightens when my fingers come into contact with the hood of my clit. Dizziness overwhelms me, and broken moans slip from my gagged mouth as I flick at the nerves.

“Watch my dick split you open, Twinkle,” he taunts in my ear. “Do you want me to bruise your cunt? You’re dripping down to my balls, dirty slave.”

Twisting my nipple, he pounds into me without a care.

Light flashes behind my eyes when his piercings drag along my walls. I strum my clit harder, spanking it with my fingers.

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