Fuck. I feel my body react to this somatically...my clit throbs, my cunt contracts, I shudder all over. You want this. You need this. And so I push forward, into you, beginning to stretch you out. You're already taking two, three fingers of mine. I work your cunt expertly as you shake your head and then slide up and down me like there is nothing else you want more in this work.
Unf, your cunt opens to let my pinky in too. Such a good creature, such a fucking slutty vassal for me, pretending like you don't want me to fuck you, to fill you...shaking your head and pulling back, trying to get away while your cunt simultaneously tells me a different story.
I lube up the toy I slide into you, but I hardly need any; you're completely dripping for me. You mutter "no, please, no" between moans as the head of it enters you, far bigger than anything you've ever taken before. I can feel it stretching you beyond what you think is your limit. I know you'll take it for me, the degenerate slut of Mine that you are.
This is what you need. I knew it intrinsically when we were looking through toys together, but you seemed nervous, so I was willing to wait. I wanted to fill you with this, to fuck you with this, to make you come for me when and how I wanted...and now here we are. I'm being so gracious; I want to plunge it into you, over and over, fucking you rapidly and without regard. But not yet. I want to pull the pleasure from you, to force you to see that I know you. I know what you need and I will make you see it too.
Moments later, your cunt closes around the entire toy. Not surprisingly, I knew what you could take better than you. With a slightly growl, I begin to work it and out of you slowly. A whimper or two from you, and then you say "Ouch, it hurts."
I freeze for a moment. This...is this real? Am I really hurting you? Particularly in a way I do not mean? The feminist inside me is screaming. What the fuck is wrong with me that I am so turned on? Why am I so riled up more and more as you say no and beg me to stop and I can't even tell if I'm really hurting you in this moment?
That feminist is silenced by the panther who is stalking prey. The panther tells me you know what to do to make this stop, and therefore if you don't say those words, this is just confirmation of how much you really do want this, do need this, are desperately wishing for me to push and fuck you and stretch you open against your pleas. You are waiting for me to take you to undiscovered places and destroy you as I put you back together in new ways to fulfill my pleasure along side that which I offer you.
Now I really begin to fuck you, adding in the weapons grade vibrator to your clit. I want you to feel all of the things, to be assaulted by sensations, to drown in the intensity of this pleasure. Don't you dare hide anything from me; I slap your thighs to bring you back into the present, to force you back here with me as I take you to the edges of your previous pleasure and into a space entirely more glorious and overwhelming.
You beg me to stop as you break yourself open for me, your desire leaking out of your cunt, your waves of pleasure and overstimulation becoming one. While you may have begged me to stop this time, it won't be long before you are begging me to fuck you again, to spread you open, to take from you, to use you however I want. And then perhaps you'll say no again. Perhaps you'll pretend you don't want it and beg me to stop. Perhaps I'll gag you and not even allow you the option of saying no sometime.
And yet you'll come (undone) for me, yet again. I know this about you.
