Page 56 of Marked By Feral Monsters
"Please," I sob. I'm so close to using my safe word just so I can get myself off. Zair releases me and climbs off the bed, and my hands fly to my pussy, but he snatches my wrists so fast I don't even get to touch myself.
"Bad girl." Then he leans down, and I hear a rustling of fabric then a clank of metal. From I assume the pocket of his pants, he produces a pair of handcuffs and proceeds to lock my wrists together. "This was my fault, really. I should have tied you up before we even began, but then again, I thought I could trust you." The metal pinches my wrists, and he pulls them up forcefully above my head and secures me to the headboard. "I don't know why I thought that. Dirty little sluts like you can never be trusted. I tell you to be quiet, and you whine and complain and beg. I just want you to know, little mouse, this hurts me more than it hurts you."
I don't care what he does. I'm so past caring. I squeeze my legs together, seeking relief, arms tied overhead. I'm hot. Sweaty. Wet with need. Aching, burning.
I hear him rustling around in my bedside drawer.
"Well, what do we have here?" Zair muses, holding up my minotaur vibrator. Poor Nuk. It pales in comparison to the real thing.
I suppose I should feel embarrassed, but I don't have the capacity to feel anything beyond desperately horny.
Zair turns it on, and it sings in his palm. Climbing back onto the bed, with the vibrator on low, he exposes my pussy again, then taps my clit with the vibrator. I cry out, the pleasure so close to the surface. It will take so little for me to come at this point.
He does it again.
I want to beg for more. My eyes meet his. They sparkle in challenge. I press my lips together, refusing to give in. He wants me to beg, so he can keep torturing me. I can't do it. I need this too much.
When I don't beg, he presses the vibrator to my clit again, holding it there longer. The pleasure spikes, rocketing through my body. The orgasm builds, and just as I crest the high, he pulls the toy away.
The need to scream is right there, but I swallow it down.
"You're doing so good, mouse." So he does it again, holding the toy to my clit, letting the orgasm build. And just like last time, right as I'm about to come, nearly mid-orgasm, he pulls it away.
I let out a growl, deeper than I thought possible, and he chuckles. I squirm in my restraints and kick out, nailing him uselessly in the chest. It's like kicking a boulder.
"Oh, my little mouse is getting feisty. Okay, sweet girl. You deserve a reward for staying so quiet." Then he presses the toy to my clit, and the pain and ache dissipate, the vibrator buzzing against the most sensitive part of my body. And just as I reach the top, about to spill over, he thrusts one of his thick fingers inside me, curls it up, and fucks my pussy while pressing downward with the toy.
I tense so hard my abdomen cramps before the pleasure bursts out of me. I start screaming, thrashing my hips, chasingthe orgasm. The friction is otherworldly. Exacting. He keeps fucking me, and the pressure of the toy and his finger pressing against each other builds something else.
"I'm-I'm—" I start, but I don't know what's happening. He keeps working me with his thick, meaty finger, faster and faster. I think I have to pee. A new feeling unfurls low in my abdomen, zigzagging to my clit. Then it erupts, and I come harder than I ever have. His finger, still thrusting, gets noisy, like he's splashing through a puddle. My wet pussy gushes, and I squirt all over him, but he doesn't relent. Not with the toy, or his finger.
The orgasm falls, slowly at first, but then abruptly. Because he hasn't stopped, and I can't take much more.
I try to pull my hips away from him, but he's relentless.
And then I see the other side of this torture.
If I open my mouth and beg him to stop, he'll just keep going. I bite my tongue and squirm until the point where the vibrator makes my clit go numb. There's no relief in it, no pleasure, and the discomfort gets stronger by the minute, but I stop squirming, which makes Zair grumble in annoyance.
He wants me to misbehave so he can keep torturing me.
I've never felt so fucking alive.
This is amazing. Better than I'd ever hoped for. Thoughts of the outside world trickle in, that even if this is temporary, just knowing my body is capable of this, that someone like Zair exists—it makes all the heartache worth it.
Here in the moment, I feel so open. I'm panting, out of breath, but ready for more. Ready for everything.
Zair gives up and throws the toy across the room with enough force that it bangs against my bedroom wall. The relief that the toy is gone is short-lived. He spreads my knees, lines his cock up at my entrance, and, with no warning, shoves in.
He's big. Huge, in fact. Too big, and it stings. He's bigger than my toy, and the tip doesn't push inside me with ease.He's forceful and blunt. I wasn't ready. My clit is numb, and I clench down as if that will hold him back, but he only growls in response before pulling out and thrusting back in, invading me completely.
I try to find a better angle, but my hands are stuck overhead, my knees locked between us. I squirm and thrash against him for pushing me too far too quickly, but he takes my knees into one hand, pushes them up toward my head and begins fucking me like the beast he is. In and out, faster and faster, aggressively. Skin slapping, he pounds into me at a bruising pace, and I have no choice but to take it. The thought of using my safe word never even crosses my mind.
One hand wraps around my still-sensitive throat, and he squeezes, holding my body in a tightly formed ball, while he roars and bucks. The more his hand tightens around my throat, the less I can breathe. I see stars.
I suck in sips of oxygen when I can, which makes him hold tighter. His claws break skin, and that fear comes back, ten fold to when he was throat fucking me.
One more ounce of pressure and I'd choke to death.
