Page 67 of Every Shade of Shadow

He walks behind me, my chest heaving against the wood.

“You want my cock, don’t you?” the Professor queries.

I bite my tongue, unwilling to give him the reply he wants.

“Death knocks at your door and yet you refuse to open it.”

Again, I do not respond. I don’t wish to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Let him have a bit of delayed gratification for once.

“Let me help,” he says, kneeling on the rack. It groans under his weight as he positions himself, his cock running forward into the depths of my pussy.

The unexpectedness of the action drives all air from my lungs.

The bonds around my ankles pull tight as he jerks back and plows back into me deeper. With any resistance out of the way, he is able to explore my depths. I take him all the way in, crying out in pleasure and shock and the sheer exhaustion this is forcing upon me.

Darkwood moans in delight, congratulates me on how tight I am, how I grip his cock. He thrusts forward again until his hairs tickle my asshole, and my cheeks are splayed apart against his hips.

“Feel the shadows,” he says. “Allow them in.”

I do, letting them fill me while he pounds and thrusts.

It’s strange. They’re cold, but hot, spreading and fanning out somewhere deep inside me where no one, not even the Professor, has been before. They take a stranglehold there, build against my defenses.

With every push forward the tender bud at the top of my sex is pressed firmer and firmer against the rack. I find myself rocking against it, pulling at my bonds to grind every ounce of pleasure out of it as he takes me from behind, slowly digging himself deeper into my body.

He places his hand on my head, pressing on my skull as he fucks me harder, driving his cock long and hard into my poor pussy. It’s split around his cock, doing its best to get used to his size, but it’s a struggle. I grit my teeth, losing myself.

I’m still wet, shivering involuntarily and close to passing out again. It’s all so overwhelming.

I rub against the rack all the while, the feelings growing stronger and stronger until with a short cry of surprise something snaps, and infinite pleasure explodes inside me.

I cry and shake, pulling at my bonds until I’m bloody, my sex squeezing around his cock in rapid palpitations as I grunt and moan in guttural staccato.

It only makes him fuck me harder. He does so with wild abandon, the entire rack shifting against the stone. I fall again, stars and strange galaxies flying before me as my body revolts, and I want to scream ‘Yes! Yes!’

But I cannot seem to form intelligible words—only a loose spill of nonsensical syllables falling from my mouth.

The Professor is building to his own, terrible crescendo. His fingers claw so hard into my scalp I worry he means to crush me, my body a sweaty mess on the rack as he groans one final time. A hot flood of seed follows as he jerks once, hard against me. He twitches in my depths. It doesn’t seem like it will ever end, cum flowing out around his cock and dripping from the rack as he shudders and lurches against me, that patent restraint of his lost.

I smile at that, at his undoing. That is my work. I have done that to him.

With this in mind, an aftershock flows through my entire body, shadows chasing pain and pleasure and all of swirling and shifting inside me until I’m not sure I know myself any longer.

With a strained grunt, the Professor withdraws, the rest of his release spilling out between my legs. His seed dribbles down my inner thighs while my chest swells with pride and satisfaction.

Because this is a win.

But with this also comes a deeper concern—that this will be the end, that the Professor has had his fill and will now discard me.

I look back over my shoulder and watch as he walks to a nearby washbasin and towels his cock down.

The firelight makes him look inhuman, carving out his body as if it were stone.

He strolls back to the rack, his relaxed posture speaking volumes. “And with that, witchling, you ascend.”

I close my eyes for a brief moment, a tremendous blanket of fatigue falling over me stretched and used as I am.

When I open my eyes, the Professor, the Wolf, is swimming before me.

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