Page 44 of Stream & Scream
“No—don’t?—”
I chuckle, low and cruel. “No? Then stop me, clickbait. Go on. You could fight. You wouldn’t win, but you could try. Truth is, you wanted me to catch you. You fucking wanted this. You begged for the views, now you’re gonna moan like the little slut while I use you like content.”
“Fuck… you,” she breathes, raw.
“You will.” I shove her knee higher, forcing her open until the seam of her tracksuit strains tight. My hand slides down, slipping beneath the waistband like I own it, fingers pushing past fabric until I’m pressed against the heat of her panties. They’re soaked.
“You don’t want it, huh? What’s this then?” I rasp, dragging two fingers slow and hard along the damp crotch, grinding the fabric into her folds. “You’re pretty little mouth is telling me no, but your cunt’s begging to be filled.”
She arches into me, thighs quivering, her body betraying her mouth with every hungry grind against my hand.
“I bet every feed’s catching this right now.” I yank her wrist-cam and tilt it down to where my hand is buried between her thighs. “You signed up to get more views, didn’t you? What better way to get them than letting everyone see how fucking pretty you look when you cum for me?”
Her sob cracks the dark, sharp and helpless.
“You’re gonna be famous, baby,” I purr. “Not for your witty banter or your fake tears. No. You’ll be famous for the way you moaned for The Hunter while he fucked you up against a fucking rock.”
She swings at me, wild and uncontrolled.
I release her throat and catch her wrist mid-air, forcing it above her head. With one hand I hold her there, while the other pulls free from her tracksuit, slick with her arousal. I reach into my belt pouch and pull out a black zip tie.
“You just lost the privilege of fighting back, clickbait.”
The tie bites closed around her wrists, binding them together above her head, plastic digging into her skin. I loop the strap over a jagged edge in the rock, jerking it tight until she’s stretched, chest heaving, arms locked uselessly above her.
Now she’s pinned. Helpless. On display.
“Perfect,” I sneer, stepping back half a pace to take her in. “I know they’ll love watching you like this.”
I shove my hand back down, tugging at her waistband. The tracksuit peels off her hips in one swift yank, panties dragged with it. I tug her leg free, leaving the other tangled, seeing how she likes the half-dressed mess of it.
Only then do I undo my belt and shove my pants low, cock springing into the night air—steel-hard, Jacob’s Ladder glinting in the moonlight.
Her eyes go wide. Viewers might see fear, but I see a hunger equal to my own. Shecravesthis cock.
“Yeah,” I murmur, dragging the head along her bare folds, spreading her wetness over my metal. “I bet you’ve never had a cock like this. Just for you, clickbait.”
She whimpers.
“You want me to stop?” I growl.
Silence.
“You want me to fuck you?”
Still silent. She wants me.
I grab her thigh, hitching her leg higher, and drive my cockhead inside her. She’s fucking soaked.
Her pussy tells the truth. She wants this as much as I do.
It grips me on the first thrust like it’s been waiting.
“Fuuuuck,” I groan, pushing inside her inch by inch. “Tight little liar. Your cunt is needy for me.”
Her lip bleeds where she bites it to stay quiet. Doesn’t matter. I slam into her again. And again. The rock scrapes her back raw. Her wrists strain uselessly against the ties. Her cam flickers red, catching everything. And still she arches into me. Every thrust she lifts to meet it. Every grind, her cunt grips like she’d die if I stopped.
Good. Let the whole fucking show see what she’s really here for.
