Page 66 of In Love with the Devil

I try to ignore his plea, to keep all vocal expression deep inside me, but with so much physical stimulation, my body betrays me. The dildo feels so good, every sweep massaging and stretching me, making me feel whole. Knowing he loves it when I take his dick deep in my throat, knowing I’m pleasing him, my moans stick together, becoming continuous, almost like a hum.

“God, you’re such a good whore.”

I can’t stand how much my body is enjoying everything he’s doing. I feel so full, in pure bliss, but I don’t want to admit that. The conflict between my mind, pride, dignity, and prejudices, versus my body with every erroneous spot wanting more, torments me. In the end, my body wins. I suck on his cock withevery ounce of energy I have, as fast as I can, way past burning pain, all so that he will keep fucking my asshole the way he is, so that my clit can keep on being bitten and pulled at, so that he will keep touching my breast. I want it, and the minute my mind solidifies that thought, a violent, shaking cry tumbles out of me.

“Fuck… baby, I didn’t know this is what you needed. You’re sucking my cock better than any whore I’ve ever met.”

I ignore him and continue, part of me still needing more of him and the other wanting him to come so it can be over. My whimpers become screams, trying to tell him to finish. The urgency is clear. My walls contract around the dildo, generating waves that spread through me. It's too intense! I can’t help breaking down, with my sucking, with my tears, for him to come. I can’t stop myself from convulsing and taking more of the dildo and his cock deeper, faster, and harder as I rock back and forth.

“Such. A. Fucking. Whore,” he punctuates each word by thrusting his cock and the dildo into me. He’s panting as he grabs my head, pushing more of him into me, my lip kissing his balls and his cock blocking all my breathing as it twitches to fill my throat with come.

“Fuck!” he screams and continues to fuck me with the dildo, ignoring my muffled screeches. His dick recedes out of my mouth and he finally collapses on the bed, then pulls my body on top of his.

If someone caught us, they’d think we were lovers embracing, but the reality is, he’s restraining me, keeping me on top of him.I know he’s sleeping because of the deep, even breathing that I recognize oh-so-well. The exhaustion catches up with me too.

His body readjusting wakes me. “Come baby, sit on me.”

“Julian, no.”

He lifts me and slowly as I sit on top of him, with his dick sliding into my pussy and the dildo in my ass, my eyebrows wrinkle and tremble with supplication for him not to do this. I’m so overstretched, there’s no pleasure. He ignores my plea, my whimpers and cries. I quickly end up accepting that he will not change his mind.

“Fuck…” he cusses as my pussy lips touch the base of his cock. “You want to go back downstairs?"

"No. Please–" I can't hide my phobia. Anytime I think he might throw me down there again something short circuits in my brain.

"Then fuck my cock like your life depends on it."

“Julian, I can’t move with my hands tied like this.”

“Fine,” he protests and unties my wrists.

I bend forward and rock my hips, fucking only what I can take, but he loses all his patience and fucks me with both his cock and the dildo, swiftly pulling screams out of me until I lose my voice.

My blindfold grows so wet with tears that they trail down my cheeks despite it. I come and he takes off the thing biting my clit. It throbs as the blood returns to it and Julian flicks it, making me jump. He laughs. The spurt rushes out of my clit and I can’t help lifting myself away at how insane the pain is. Julian locks me in place as I gush all over him and he comes.

“That’s my good girl. I knew you were still somewhere in there.”

I collapse on top of him, exhausted, starving, and weak. He pushes me off him and I fall asleep on my belly, only to wake up when the dildo is being pulled out of me.

“Don’t worry, I’m filling you back up with another one, baby.”

This time he fills my pussy with another rubber dick, deep inside until I beg him to stop. He adds more lubricant to my ass. I scream as he slams all of himself in me. The rubber in my pussy nudges and vibrates.

“Happy birthday, Astoria.”

It’s my birthday? The thought kills me, but everything evaporates, eclipsed by the pain, then pleasure, as Julian mercilessly crashes into me. The vibrator moves inside as if it were a real dick. My asshole has learned to take him, to be grateful for every inch he pummels into it. Now every rubbing against my walls is heaven. I scream again.

“Oh, pretty bird, already? I’m not done.” He fucks me faster and harder as my body convulses while coming. He’ll never stop. “You know what to do if you want me to come, baby. Sing for me, pretty bird. You haven't done it since that day and you know you owe me for that one.”

I don't know what's worse, taking the punishment for attempting to kill him or not knowing when the punishment will come.

Panting. "Come on Astoria. Come on."

Why is he making me say it? Fucking sick asshole. “Daddy,” I call while feeling the last screw in my mind go to hell in a handbasket.

“Oh, that’s good. Fuck, Tory. I’ll never tire of your ass.” It’s the first time he calls me that and it does something to my mind. “Keep singing, pretty bird,” he requests in between thrusts and pants and my wailing.

“Daddy, please come.” The words barely pass my lips.

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