Page 32 of Free Fall

“Do you fantasize about me when you masturbate? Do you imagine my fist buried deep in this pussy?” I cupped her, letting one finger slide between her soaking slit as I remembered the time I’d caught her masturbating to fisting porn. “Do you remember how it felt when I pushed my cock in, too? Both of them, stretching you out.”

“You made me bleed.”

“You liked the pain.” I squeezed her throat harder as I plunged a finger into her opening. “This isn’t enough, is it?” I asked, teasing. “You need to be pushed, ruined, stretched. One finger isn’t enough for you.” I licked her cheek. “You should have told me you needed more.”

“Luca…” Her voice was high, pleading.

“Ah ah,” I chided. “Use the right name and maybe I’ll let you come.”

Her eyes shut, her shoulders relaxed, something washed over her. It took her a few seconds, but then she opened back up, gaze fierce. Brave. “Please, master.”

There was no going back.

Seventeen

Zelda

Satisfactionrippledfromhimin heady waves as my words struck him. He looked powerful, consuming. I soaked it all in. This was the dynamic I could cope with, this power play, the disconnect from the people we were outside of this game. Not the couply shit we’d slipped into, not the tender touches and care — that was too confusing.

If he pretended to force me, made it feel like a scene or a porno, or had me call him a different name… that’s what I could do, how I could live through this fantasy. Needed the deepest of depravities to pull my mind away from Uncle Luca and to… Master.

“Good girl,” he rumbled, stroking along my jaw with the hand he wrapped around my throat, his thumb digging into my skin. He wasn’t squeezing to prevent oxygen from getting to my brain. I could still breathe, but it was tight enough to show me my place. “On your knees.”

My eyelashes fluttered as I slammed to the floor, mind checked out. Yes. This was what I needed. Before, I hadn’t been there yet, wasn’t ready in the hallway. He had me there now, though.

“Open your mouth,” he demanded, stroking my hair back. “Stick your tongue out.”

I obeyed, pushing my tongue out as far as possible. He pulled his cock from his underwear and pushed the head against my waiting tongue, letting the metal of his piercing press in. He tasted salty, familiar. We both groaned as my lips strained around him.

“Mm,” he said, toying with me. “You like that, don’t you?”

I showed him my agreement by licking a long line from his balls to his piercing, prodding into the slit at the top to taste any pre-cum beading there. He was delicious, and I chased every drop before he pulled away with a jerk.

His hands wrapped around my head, gripping fistfuls of my hair as he angled me how he wanted me. I just let him do it, guide me and direct me, on his strings, at his command. Staying floppy, bendable, I let my jaw hang open for him.

He pushed his cock into my mouth again until I gagged. Then he laughed, shoving further until my throat squeezed around him. Pressure built in my chest, behind my eyes, but he held steady, blocking my airway, trapping me full of him, holding my nose against his crotch so the hair there tickled my face.

“Three taps if you need me to stop,” he said with a groan before pulling out and straight back in. My nose buried into his pubic hair, his balls warm against my chin, his scent surrounding me, he was my world. Nothing else mattered but the man using me.

“Fuck,” he cursed, trying to shove himself even deeper, stretching my jaw to its limits and my gag reflex to the extreme. But there was nowhere else to go, no more space. He had my mouth at his mercy. I felt bile building in my neck, the small amount I’d eaten today threatening to make itself re-known as I urged and gagged around him, noises deep in my throat rumbling over his cock as I retched and tried to breathe. Didn’t tap, though.

“Now suck, little puppet. Suck hard.”

I drew in my cheeks and gave his entire cock a deep pull, slobbering and choking as I attempted to create that vacuum he wanted. He cursed and praised me before moving his hips away at last. He pulled out enough that I could gasp in breaths through my nose, hacking up a lung to catch some oxygen. Then he plunged back in, his shaft slick with my spit and pre-cum as he fucked my face. Pounded it. Used me as his walking hole. Spit and slobber and pre-cum mixed as one, dripping from my chin.

My clit pulsed and my thighs ached as I stayed limp, sucking hard as he pumped in and out of my mouth, making wild noises of pleasure and that uncontrollable male groaning that showed he was close.

“Don’t swallow,” he said, my only warning, before exploding in my mouth, flooding my tastebuds with his salty cum and moaning, his hips losing rhythm as he pulsed and pulsed. “Shit.”

I held the cum in my cheeks, eager to collapse back and take in a deep lungful of breath, but more desperate to oblige, to be a good girl for him. I strained to look up at him, his cock softening in my mouth, waiting for my next instruction. That was all I was, his puppet, his to command. I would have stayed on his cock all night, suckling it, warming it, tonguing his piercing, if he’d told me to.

“Keep your mouth open,” he commanded a beat after our eyes locked, pulling his dick free and grasping my chin, squeezing so my lips smushed and my already sore jaw ached further. I thrust my tongue out for him, showing it slick with his cum, played with it as it slid toward my throat. His pupils dilated at the sight, then he dove down.

He kissed me. Hard. His tongue sliding into my mouth to scoop up all he’d given me. He groaned as we swapped spit and cum, passing it back and forth, swirling it between our lips and tongues. I ached for more, to swallow it down, to get him between my legs. Lost. I was lost to the bastard. Even with aching knees and an abused throat, I would take more from him if he gave it.

“Good girl,” he murmured when all the cum was down our throats, when he’d used me as much as he wanted to. He kissed my nose and stood, stepping away to leave me on my knees alone. “You’re still my good little puppet.”

I peered up at him through mascara-streaked eyes, breath heaving, mind broken, and laughed. “We’re so fucked,” I said through bursts of near manic laughter. “What the hell are we doing here?”

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