Page 66 of Depravity

“Please don’t,” I gasp. Whatever this is, I don’t want a part of it. I don’t…

My mind falters, my body freezes as he pours something cold, something very liquid all over my arse.

No, surely not. Surely, he wouldn’t. He’s obsessed with getting me pregnant. Why would he go there?

Something hard, something that feels unforgiving starts probing me. I know I’m pathetic, I know I brought this on myself but I start sobbing, shaking my head, silently begging now for a mercy that will not be granted.

“Seeing as you enjoyed this so much…” He shoves the toy into my arse, and I scream out as my body can do nothing but take it.

Jesus, it hurts. It hurts so much.

His grip on me is unrelenting. I can barely breathe.

“How about I fuck your arse with the toys from now on, huh? Keep your cunt for just my cock?”

Tears stream down my face. I want this to stop, I want everything to stop.

He pulls it out, and I can feel it dragging my insides. I can hear it, the sound of squelching.

He tuts as he looks at the thing, then comments about how next time he’ll prep me better, whatever that means. And then he’s thrusting it back, pushing it as far as it will go only this time, this time he turns it on.

Something deep inside me starts vibrating.

I hate that I like it, I hate that it actually feels good.

“There,” He mutters, running his hand along my arse cheek. “That feels nice, doesn’t it?”

Can he see? Can he see how my hips are jerking, how I’m slowly turning into such a horny, horrible, needy mess. How I’m a whore. His whore.

God, I’m ruined. Wretched.

There’s no coming back from this. No mercy. I know even now, God is judging this, judging me. This was a test, a chance to see if I’m worthy enough of going to heaven, and I’ve failed. I’ve failed so badly.

A sharp slap makes me hiss. Conrad then gives me another and another.

“I should beat your arse raw for that stunt,” He says. “I should make you bleed.”

I know he will too. I know he will hurt me now.

He spins me around, grabs hold of my face and shoves two fingers as far down my throat as they can go.

“Little slut,” He says, “I’ll give you a choice. Take my cock now, suck it like a good wife, or I’ll give you so many lashes you’ll need stitches to sew your skin back together,”

I know what my choice is. I mean, it’s obvious. He’s tipped the scales, hasn’t he? And besides, we both know I’m a coward.

He drags his hand away, a string of saliva trails down my chin and I wince with shame.

“Tell me, wife, which is it?”

“Your cock,” I whisper as my cheeks flame, as more shame than I could possibly imagine floods through me.

That thing is still there, in my arse, and I wonder if that is also affecting my head. If it’s fucking with it, overriding my senses as I desperately chase something forbidden, something sinful.

“Say it again. Beg me, beg me to be merciful,”

I hang my head for a second, hating how this has turned. How he’s now, once more proving all the power he has over me.

“Please,” I say, “Please give me your cock, please show me mercy,”

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