Page 78 of That Sik Luv

“Not today, darling,” he says confidently. “I’ve learned that lesson.”

I hear the metal loops of the silicone gag clang from behind him as the smell of the leather strap floods my nostrils.

No, not again.

“Open, so I don’t have to break teeth,” he demands.

Bringing the large cock-shaped gag to my mouth, he pushes it towards my lips. I turn my head, refusing it.

“Fuck you,” I spit out.

A light scoff leaves his lips, and I can picture the demented grin planted on his smug face. “You will.”

He presses the four-inch object to my lips again, more forcefully this time, and I part my lips, as the girth fills my mouth, opening my jaw. I instantly gag against the foreign object, my eyes watering as horrid sounds leave my throat.

“Relax for me,” he says, annoyed but still petting the top of my head gently. The move, totally contradictory to his tone of voice. “Breathe, you weak bitch.”

My thighs tighten at his demeaning demands, and I grind my hips into the earth, needing to rub my aching heat against something.

I hate that I love it. I hate how he knows how I’ll respond. He knows how I like to feel used filthy, and fucked like his own personal whore, only to be treated like his noble queen later.

He secures the belt of the gag behind my head while I focus on breathing through my nose as he taught me, saliva already pooling around the fake cock.

“Such a good little slut for me, aren’t you?” he whispers in my ear. “Always bending at the knee for a man.”

He grabs my ankle, bending my knee back. He’s trying to hogtie me again. I quickly send my head back, knocking the back of my skull into his face.

He curses, before aggressively grabbing for my ankle again, but the minor lapse allows me a moment to twist beneath his hold. I wiggle myself out enough to get to my knees, but he reaches for my calf and easily slides me back beneath him.

“Fuck,” he groans, wiping blood from his lower lip where there’s now a cut. “You know I love when you fuck me up, baby.”

He’s just too strong. Too smart. Too quick for me to escape his grasp. He’ll never let me go.

I still, letting out a deep sigh through my nose, trying to calm my racing heart and focus on breathing, as the drool drips down my chin and the silicone cock has me practically choking. He pulls my head back by the strap of the gag, looking down at my face over the top of me.

I know I must look insane. Tears have my face looking like a flushed mess, and saliva spills onto the dried grass and dirt beneath me as my throat tries to expel the object protruding into it.

He gazes down at me, eyes fully dilated, filled with a primal sickness, as blood drips from his nose down his full lips. I feel it spill onto my forehead, and I wince my eyes as a drop of blood hits near my eyebrow.

This look of his, it’s feral and untamed, raw and ruthless. It makes me insatiable for him. My pussy spasms, as wetness pools in my shorts in anticipation of the discipline he’s about to inflict.

We’re toxic. My blood, infected with the same sick love he owns for me. We crave this illness. The pain, the torture, the obsession, the taunting, the teasing, the domination, the submission.

It’s always a war between us. A battle brewing that reeks of passion and underlying lust. Our bodies feel combustible until we can connect and become us again, finding a place only we can own. The fire.

He carries me over his shoulder, walking me back to the cabin. The cabin we’ve been living in together for a week now.

This is what we do. We train. We fight. We fuck.

Dropping me on the edge of the bed, my wrists pull tight against the rope, feeling for an escape.

I silently gag around the silicone cock filling my mouth, touching the back of my throat. My eyes close tightly as tears melt down my cheeks, a silent plea to take it off.

He’s been training me to deep throat in his own sadistic ways, punishing me with the cock gag whenever I lose the game.

He rolls me to my knees, my legs sitting under me, my chest pushed out in defiance.

“It’s time for a real cock to fuck that pretty throat,” he says, gently grabbing my chin and eyeing the mess before him as saliva pools at my breasts, my white tank covered. His hand travels down my chin, gently stroking my throat, where I try to swallow again.

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