Page 97 of Morally Gray Daddies

You can do this. It can’t get any worse…

Until it did.

He bit down, and I screamed.

“Nooo!”

His teeth sank into my flesh, and a branding iron of agony shot through me. My body reflexively jerked back to get away, but that only made things worse as he stretched my nipple taut.

“God, oh, god, please stop, please stop, please stop!”

He held me rigid for a second that seemed to draw out forever before he released me with a snap. “Why? They taste so fucking good...”

I drew back against the couch, coiling my body away from him. “It hurts… please it hurts…”

“Ohhh… it hurts?” he mocked me. “Well maybe this will feel better…”

He gripped my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger and began to twist slowly.

“Fuuuck! Oh, god, please, pleeaassse!”

A sharp, tearing sensation flooded me with misery. The feeling was of my flesh being torn, and as I screamed, my eyes instinctively closed, as if losing sight of what he was doing would make the anguish go away.

It didn’t. In fact, it only grew as he pulled outward, and I howled unintelligible sounds until he let go.

With my hands bound behind my back there was no way I could protect myself, but in my sudden feral state of mind I coiled into a ball to shield myself from him.

He laughed at the effort.

“Oh, you stupid fucking slut. You think you can stop me...”

He knotted his fingers back into my hair, jerking the strands until he had me pulled upright. I bawled, choking incomprehensible pleas even I couldn’t fully understand. My world had simply become one of pain, an unending sine wave of suffering that ebbed and flowed at every touch of his hand on my body. The first time he’d seized my hair I’d thought the agony couldn’t get worse. He’d proved me wrong, living up to his comment, ‘I’ll be hurting you, so you won’t need to pretend.’

He was right about that, ’cause I sure as hell wasn’t.

My eyes were closed as he forced me into place, but a sound made me jerk them open.

He drew down his pants zipper, and I watched in dull horror as he fished out his cock.

He was hard, fully erect. Previously, he may have extended a certain degree of… not kindness, but… professionalism, for lack of a better way to describe it, as he’d discussed what he was going to be doing to me. Now that he was doing it, though, there was no escaping he was enjoying this with a sadistic pleasure. The rigidness of his shaft knocked away any notion that this was simply ‘business’ as he’d claimed earlier.

He leaned down. “You know what you’re going to do now, slut? You’re gonna suck my fucking cock.” He gave my head a brusque twist. “And I swear to fucking god, if I feel your fucking teeth one time, I’ll rip them outta your head one by one and make a necklace.”

“Oh, god,” I whispered. A distant part of me said what he was doing was as much theatrics as it was real, but there was nothing ‘faked’ about the erection he shoved toward my mouth. And if I’d had any hope earlier that he might play-act any part of the actual sex, the pressure of the head of his cock against my lips swept away that notion permanently.

I took him in.

I’d given head before. It wasn’t something I’d ever been opposed to or shied away from with a lover, but… it had never been like this. Even the most confident of the fuckboys I’d slept with had still been tentative at first when I’d gone down on them, petting my hair cautiously until they were assured I wasn’t going to suddenly jerk away. Then they might palm the back of my head in time with my bobbing motions, as if I somehow couldn’t feel their reaction and needed reinforcement to understand how good what I was doing felt.

This… This was the complete opposite of that.

“Fucking suck that cock, whore. Suck it.”

He shoved my face down on his shaft. Gripping my head, he drove his hips upward, forcing his dick into my mouth until it hit the back of my throat. I gagged. There was zero hesitation to his actions, absolutely no pause as he continued thrusting. I’d heard the term ‘face-fucked’ used before, but now… now I experienced it for the first time. There wasn’t a single thing he did that showed any concern for how I might be feeling, unless it was pain. When I choked, and spit drooled from the corners of my mouth and down my chin, he simply shoved me down harder.

“Fuck, you look good gagging on my cock. Do you like that fucking dick? You like sucking on it?” He yanked back on my head, pulling his erection free as I gasped in a lungful of air.

“Please…” I retched. A strand of saliva draped from his cockhead to my lips until my gagging broke it and it fell across my chin.

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