Page 18 of Savage

I gently move her legs apart and crouch down to get a closer look at her. I’ve seen so many vulvas at this point in my life that they don’t particularly affect me anymore. They’re simply part of human anatomy.

Still, staring at her, I can feel my cock stir again. It isn’t because she’s a naked woman. It’s because she’s mine, chained to my bed, wholly dependent on me, waiting for my touch and guidance.

I slowly push a finger inside her, rubbing gently, coaxing her to wetness over several long moments. Stef makes a small sound, but she doesn’t wake. Her body isn’t quick to respond, and I wonder if that will change as time goes on.

I wonder, too, how much I can do before she does more than stir a little. Could I push inside of her mouth, her cunt? Would she react if I did? How would she respond if she woke with me inside of her? So many questions. So many what-ifs.

It thrills me in some strange way, knowing I’ll get to explore all of those things with her and there’s nothing she can do to stop me.

Maybe she’ll even enjoy it.

I’ll make her enjoy it.

For now, I withdraw my finger, which is already a little wet, and head over to the drawer with all the supplies. I pull out the lube and choose a small, curved dildo. Larger than my finger, but nowhere near as large as my cock. I coat the toy in lube and take it back over to her.

I push it in slowly, watching her reactions as the toy makes its way inside. Once the larger head is in, it settles in her cunt. She groans softly, and her chest takes on a slightly red hue, but she remains still.

My cock hardens in my slacks. I debate my next step, gently tapping on the dildo. Finally I undo my fly and give myself a long, slow stroke.

I won’t take her yet. But I want to see her pure reactions, when her mind isn’t getting in the way of her pleasure. After a few more strokes to my cock, I carefully sit down on the bed and begin manipulating the toy again.

Stef shudders and attempts to close her legs, but I block the movement with my other hand. I half expect her to wake, but she’s either an extraordinarily heavy sleeper or the past few days have had their toll on her.

It pleases me, to have her body completely open to me, an instrument of my will, and I go back to touching my cock. One stroke, another; the only thing that would feel better would be her hand or her body.

One of my hands keeps the toy moving slowly inside of her, while the other pleasures myself. It’s tempting to shift, to lie down so I can take her clit into my mouth, and I reluctantly pull my hand away from my cock so I can touch it instead.

Her reaction is beautiful. Her mouth parts and she moans, her eyelids flutter, but she stays asleep, the pleasure washing over her. Has anyone touched her properly? Has anybody taken care of her? From the state of her, I can almost imagine that I’m the first to truly see her. She isn’t pure—there’s no way she could be, having been working at Ntimacy—but I doubt anybody there did more than pump and dump into her.

I keep playing with her, watching the way her breath hitches and how her skin deepens in color. The sweat building on her skin gives her an almost healthy sheen.

I let go of the toy and go back to stroking myself one-handed. Her cunt clenches as I continue to massage her clit. The small hairs on her pussy are starting to grow back, a fact I’m very pleased about.

Nobody else gets to dictate how she looks.

She’s completely mine in every way.

I stroke myself faster, harder.

She sobs softly, her mouth opens into a wide O, and her back arches as she orgasms.

That image alone, knowing that I’d done this, that I’d made her come and her body obeyed me, sends me over the edge too. I shoot over her stomach, and I stare at it, feeling primally pleased with myself.

I reach out to rub the cum into her skin. I want her to wake up and see it, feel it.

But it’s too soon. She’s not ready for that.

I wait a few moments to collect myself, then head to the bathroom to clean up. I get a washcloth, run it under warm water, and return to her, gently wiping the cum off of her and sliding the dildo out. I go on to wipe the rest of her body down.

I’m wiping sweat off her forehead when her eyes blink open.

Stef shifts awkwardly, pressing her legs together, and she croaks out, “What…?” She seems confused, which is understandable. It takes her a moment to focus her eyes on me. “Did I… Did I get sick again?”

I push the hair on her forehead aside, petting gently. “You were sweaty. I should probably change the sheets, too, but I didn’t want to disturb you when you’d finally fallen asleep.”

Her brows crease. “You didn’t,” she says. “I was just…” She shudders. “I was dreaming.”

“Dreaming?” I ask, truly curious about what her mind conjured up. I put the washcloth aside and pull the blankets back over her.

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