Archive of Our Own

***

Gan is in a dark, cruel mood. Thankfully, his current slave girl is a true masochist: she's enjoyed him crushing her with his armour, and has enjoyed playing the most violent and brutal of rape scenarios with him.

He stomps into his apartment in his armour, not bothering to take off his boots; he pulls off his cap and uses it to wipe his face, then tosses it aside.

When she serves him his tea, she can tell by the look in his eyes--and the fact that he's left his boots on--that tonight is going to be one of those nights: nights upon which no mercy will be given.

This arouses her.

This is why she adores him: he has elevated cruel eroticism into an art form, using her as his canvas. No one is as skilled a lover as he is, no one has ever driven her to such extreme heights of pleasure; no one is as vicious as he is, and no one has taken her to such hell realms with his tortures.

He sips his tea with a brooding look in his eyes. He measures her with his gaze, a gaze that tells her he has plans: a look that chills her bones.

With uncharacteristically lithe grace, he gets up from his seat; the arpeggio clicker of his armour scales like the sound an uncoiling dragon would make.

He looms over her, she kneeling at his feet: she puts down the tea cups she'd been clearing away, and puts her hands into her sleeves instead, her head lowered as she awaits his orders.

He lets her wait, lets her dread build; her heart thunders in her chest.

He likes that he can see the blue veins on her neck, her skin so pale it's translucent; he fancies he can see the fluttering of her pulses, her panicking heartbeat as he feasts his eyes upon her wide, generous neckline. Tilting his head, he savours the rise and fall of her bosom, her full breasts offered by her bodice for him to enjoy.

"Xiaogui!" he barks, in the same voice he uses for military discipline.

She prostrates fully. "Sir!"

He places his foot on her head.

A shock like lightning goes through her; the muscles of her sex clench so hard she can feel her very womb itself curling from its force.

Again, he lets her wait; again, he lets her dread build.

The sight of her shivering sends a huge rush of power and pleasure through him, singing through his veins; he allows a little frisson of arousal to stir his prick, too, lets it swell beneath its cage of cotton and steel.

"Take off your clothes, and follow me to the interrogation chamber."

She quivers: this means having to walk to the other side of the Headquarters naked. But what can she do?

"Put your hands behind your back and cross your wrists," he says. "As if I had bound you. Now, I want you to keep them like that, unless I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," she says and obeys.

He puts her on a leash.

And thus, with her head lowered and her hands bound by his will alone, he slowly walks her to the interrogation chamber. She daren't glance at the soldiers and horse-grooms they pass on their way, but she can tell their shock by the way they still, by way they go silent, by the metallic clattering of one astonished soldier's dropping of his shield on the paving from sheer surprise.

When the heavy door of the interrogation chamber closes behind them, Gan slaps her so hard she collapses onto the floor; he kicks her onto her back. Still holding her by the leash, he pulls it so tight he's strangling her; he stomps his foot over her chest, grinning as he sees she's kept her hands behind her back.

"Good girl," he drawls, twirling his fingers around the leash to get a better grip, rocking his weight onto her sternum. "Have you prepared yourself for me?"

"I have shaved and rinsed, sir."

"Good," he murmurs. "On your knees," he says and lets go of the leash. "Take that thing off your neck."

As she pulls off the leash, he unbuckles his apron panel and takes out his genitals.

"Do you like my cock, girl?" he asks, slowly stroking it into full hardness.

"Yes, Master," she says with true adoration, her mouth watering as she watches it filling out in his hand. "I love it."

"Why?"

"Because it's so beautiful, Master," she murmurs, feeding his need for praise, "and because it brings me so much pleasure."

"What kind of pleasure?"

"It tastes so good, sir," she says, her cunny fluttering as she sees the tip glistening a little. "It feels so lovely in my mouth, so lovely when it fills my pussy and my arse, sir. I love it when you take me, sir; I love it so much."

"Shame," he says lightly and tilts his head, his mouth curling into a nasty smirk.

And in that moment, she realises what he wants. She shivers with chills, her fear and her arousal now so completely intertwined she can't tell one from the other.

He slaps her face, hard; her expression is now genuinely terrified, and he likes that much better. Even if he knows she's acting, she does it so well it's just like the real thing: the thrill of rape his greatest aphrodisiac.

So, he slaps her face again, again until her cheeks glow red; when he sees the glimmer of tears, he moans quietly in ecstasy, his cock pulsing in his hand. He slaps her again, just to feel that wetness, just to see those tears flying off her face, just to see their glittering in the torchlight.

She is drunk, the rush of his violence surging through her veins, soaring higher with his every blow. Her body glows, weightless and filled with light; yet, her greatest pleasure is the sight of her beloved master's pleasure.

He looms over her like the statue of an ancient, cruel god. He seems to be made of but ravenous darkness swallowing light, only flickers of flame escaping its maw; glancing off the black scales of his armour, the light struggles in vain against the massive power of his body before it dies.

His prick stands out as he beats her, beautiful and terrible in its thick and long strength, the dark gold of the shaft now darkening further with blood. The head, so beautiful and pink, is purpling little by little; he is only ever this hard when he gets to beat a woman.

Finally, he stops slapping her, breathless as he looks down upon her, a beast hungry before its cowering prey; the only colour she can see through her haze of pain is the red of his uniform coat, a slash of blood in the dark.

He strokes his cock, groaning as he finally touches it again; grabbing her hair, he brings it to her bruised lips.

"Suck."

She makes her tear-stained eyes huge and sad, her expression helpless, her mouth deliberately hesitant upon his cock; she pretends disgust, like a woman forced to do this against her will.

He loves that; smirking, he fucks her mouth only lightly at first, letting her savour his taste. "Come on, girl. Open up."

She whimpers in protest and disgust, her pussy swelling with his each thrust. She sucks him very hard, knowing that that's what he likes, sighing in pleasure as his tastes dissolve upon her tongue: the salt of sweat and the sharpness of piss, the deep musk of his body. His cock is so gloriously enormous, as thickly muscled as the rest of him; she always struggles to take it, no matter where he's pushing it, the difficulty a part of this perverse pleasure.

And when he puts his hand on her head and holds her down, it's a blessing. When he first begins to press his cock into her throat, to cut off her breath, she is so aroused she is shaking. He does this slowly to relish her reaction, her tremors making him shiver as well: she can see the hairs on his wrist standing on end.

He keeps her head down as long as possible, feasting upon her coughs and retches, the way her face begins to turn purple; only when her eyelids start to flicker in a way that tells him she's about to pass out does he pull back.

As the oxygen explodes back into her lungs, she almost comes from the ecstasy. He allows her to drag in a few hoarse breaths, allows the purple to fade into a red; soon enough, he thrusts into her throat again, her vision flashing with white.

He bellows as he fucks her throat, the wet, gagging sounds and the rumble of his groans echoing in the dungeon; soon, her makeup is utterly smeared, rivulets of her phlegm and spit running down his balls.

"Yeah," he groans, mocking, obnoxious. "Suck it, whore!"

He pulls her hair with both hands, fucking her throat so hard his armour rattles, his groans and growls growing louder and louder; she is so wet that strings of her sap dangle between the floor and her swollen, red pussy. His delicate nostrils flare as he can smell her, his lip curling, a male animal sniffing a female.

"A little bitch in heat, that's what you are," he snarls and snatches her hair in his fist, yanking her off his prick. As she drags in drowning breaths, strings of phlegm hanging between her mouth and his cock, he laughs wickedly; for the prettiness of her suffering, he gifts her with many sharp little slaps on her cheeks.

"Your little pussy wants to be filled, doesn't it?" he says and spits in her open mouth; when she screams, he slaps her very hard, still dangling her by the hair. "Hmm?" he spits again, fucking the spit deeper into her throat with his fingers. "You want my big, fat cock in your little whore's cunt, don't you?" he coos condescendingly. "You want me to fuck you raw, fuck you you so hard you'll weep?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, just slips his cock in her mouth again, making her gag, gag, gag as he thrusts roughly in and out of her. "Yes, just like that," he croons and uses her tears to draw streaks of kohl from the corners of her eyes to her temples. "The more I beat you, the wetter you get," he laughs; this arouses him so much he quivers, even whimpers a little as he uses her mouth.

Finally, he slows down. "Do you know what I'm going to do with you, girl?" he says and pulls out, then slaps her face with his cock, rubbing it in her face as he waits for her to answer.

"What will you do with me, sir?" she asks, panting between slaps, of his cock pushing her lips to and fro; affecting fear, she looks up at him helplessly.

He smirks nastily, tugging hard upon her hair; he narrows his eyes, blazing black with cruelty.

"I'm going to beat your pussy," he says, his balls tightening from the thrill of his own sadism. "And I'm not going to let your pussy come," he coos with a mocking pout. "I'm just going to beat it until it's all nice and red and swollen for me. And then I'm going to fuck it, fuck it hard," he says and lifts his finger to her face, "but you must not come. Do you know why?"

"Because I don't deserve to come, Master?"

He laughs and pulls her to her feet. Still holding her by the hair, he walks her backwards and slams her up against the stone wall, crushing her with his armoured body; the pain is incredible, the impact blowing the air out of her lungs. He hisses--he's giving himself pain with this, too, the armour biting into his flesh, but he enjoys her pain too much to not indulge.

She wonders if he's going to ram into her again when he--still holding her by the hair--turns her head, biting the tip of her earlobe to make her scream; with his other hand, he squeezes her pussy, laughing when he finds she's so wet she drips past his fingers.

"I'm going to fuck you in the arse, you see," he purrs. "Your pussy only exists for me, not you; it's my plaything and nothing more. It's only there for me to beat, to taste, to harden my cock with; but even when I fuck it, it's just to slick up my cock so I can fuck you in the arse," he says and clutches it possessively. "This little cunt doesn't exist for your pleasure, but mine. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good girl," he says and slides two fingers in her pussy, braces them against his thigh and fucks her with them until she's trembling, moaning, just on the edge of orgasm.

"What are you?" he asks, flicking her clitoris with his thumb. "What are you to me, girl?"

"Ah! I--I am your whore, sir."

He slips his wet fingers inside of her arse, making her wail into his shoulder.

"What kind of whore?" he purrs against her ear, fucking her slowly with his fingers. "What are you to me, girl?"

"Y-your anal whore, sir?"

"That's right," he snarls and hooks his fingers, making her cry out. "And if you're a good little anal whore, I'll let your arse come on my cock. But you must obey me; you must do anything I ask. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir!" she moans.

He pulls his fingers out and offers them to her mouth. "Show me."

Shaking from arousal, she sucks her taste off his fingers; his fingers are still so sweet from her sap that she can taste only a trace of the mustiness she knows he'll soon make her suck off his cock. She looks at him and whimpers, affecting disgust; the way he hisses at that fills her with the kind of pride a courtesan must feel at having successfully aroused her client.

He pulls his fingers out and kisses her, kisses her with true passion and feeling; humming softly in pleasure, he fucks her belly with his cock, clutching her with great hunger as he takes her mouth with his.

Finally, with a pained groan, he tears himself free.

"Undress me. Make it quick."

As she bends to her task, she's amazed at the amount of welts and emerging bruises he's given himself wherever the armour has bitten into his flesh; there's a large wet stain on his cuirass where his cock has been pressed against it. She wants to kiss his bruises to soothe them, but as he's told her to be quick, she only gives them swift brushes of her lips in passing.

He chuckles, impressed by her efficiency; when he's fully naked, he rewards her--and himself--with another long, deep kiss, pressing his body tightly against hers. He sighs into her mouth with satisfaction, groping and slapping her buttocks as he yields his tongue for the sucking; she fellates it with the same dedication she had given his prick, making him moan in delight.

"Now," he says. "Get on that table, on all fours. That's right," he says, stroking his cock as she climbs onto the table. "Now, push that fat pussy out; hold yourself open so I can see that arsehole. Offer yourself."

When she spreads her buttocks, he spits on his fingers and slides them into her arse again, this time much deeper; she is so aroused her pussy drips as he fucks her with his fingers, making her moan loudly as he hooks them in her arse mercilessly.

"I know that moan," he says and pushes in two fingers from each hand, stretching her arse with sap and spit alone; when he pulls her open roughly and dribbles spit inside her arse, she outright sobs. "I know that sob, too," he grins. "You are desperate for me to fuck you, aren't you?" he coos mockingly. "Desperate to have my cock inside your hot little pussy, aching to have my cock rub you on the inside," he says and gives her slit a lick. "To pound this arsehole," he says and licks the rim on the inside, then spits and rolls three fingers deep inside, stretching her with screwing movements. "Just like this, until you spray my balls!" he cries and yanks his fingers out hooked, smacking her buttocks with both hands when she moans. "It's true, isn't it?" he asks and sucks her taste off his fingers.

"Yes, sir!" she cries and it's the truth; she stiffens, gasps when he wets a leather plug in her pussy, fucking her with it, coating it in her abundant sap. "Thank you, sir!" she says, and when he begins to ease the toy inside her arse with little dips, she murmurs a litany of "Thank you, thank you, thank you" with his every push.

He spits voluminously on her arse, forcing the plug inside; when it slips in swiftly thanks to her arousal, he's very amused.

"Eager little slut!" he laughs, slapping her buttocks in delight.

"Thank you, sir!" she cries, the stretch itself almost making her come.

She hears a creaking, rustling noise and sees he's smirking and pulling on a pair of black leather gloves, fragrant with the scent of new leather; a shiver goes through her, as this always heralds extremely perverse play. He picks up a firm leather paddle and lifts it out, displaying it to her; he slaps it against his palm, delighting in the way she flinches.

"Let's see how red we can make you, shall we?"

The playfulness in his voice makes her bite her lip so that she won't break character and smile back, so wonderful is the sight of his delight; already his mood is improving, now that he gets to torture a woman--the beast in his element.

He sniffs the glove on his left hand, inhaling it deeply; only then does he begin to paddle her buttocks. He strikes her very hard straight away, wasting no time; knowing she can take it, he covers her buttocks in firm strokes, making her clench around the plug every time he hits her. She loves the sting of the paddle, the pleasure of the impact spreading warmth so deep inside of her hips; out of all her lovers, only he has ever beaten his love into her so deeply, ravishing her whole body with his blows, echoing through flesh and bone. And then there's the pleasure of seeing his pleasure at his beating her like this, his delight in taking her so completely: she loves the smile on his face as he reddens her skin, warming her up for the taking.

Smirking, he smacks her all over her thighs and buttocks, deliberately avoiding her pussy; from time to time, he gives her arse little slaps and pinches and strokes, feeling for her warmth.

"You're enjoying this," he tuts as he pulls a string of wetness from her pussy with the paddle. "This is supposed to be a punishment!" he laughs and walks around her.

She thinks he's just teasing her, but to her horror, he grabs her by the hair and slaps her cheek with the paddle: the blow, cracking against her cheekbone, is so painful there's no pleasure to it at all. She gasps in shock, but Gan just giggles, then begins to hit her face with the paddle again, again. The sting is excruciating, her shock and her pain serious now that every blow crushes the soft skin of her face against her skull, with very little body fat to soften the impact; this is no longer sexual for her, just him sating his perversion for seeing women in pain.

Her pain, of course, pleases him greatly; smirking nastily, he keeps on brutalising her, his prick pulsing with the knowledge that tomorrow, she'll have bruises--perhaps even a black eye. He amuses himself by spitting in her face now and then: this, just for the pleasure of getting to beat the flecks of spittle off her face, watching them fly here and there.

By the time she's barely conscious, her face completely red and wet from blows, spit and tears, he finally lets go of her hair.

"That's more like it," he says, stroking his cock and groaning in pleasure.

He walks around her again, proceeding to strike her straight on the pussy with the paddle; the sudden pleasure-pain is incredible, making her scream and clutch the table so as to not fall off.

"Push out your arse!" he cries when she reflexively jerks back from his blows; he grabs the base of the plug and fucks her with it shallowly as he smacks and smacks her pussy with the paddle, tugging upon the plug after his every blow.

Her cries are definitely a mixture of pleasure and pain, now, each one intoxicating to his ears. The honey of her pussy is driving him mad from the need to lick her, to fuck her; still, for the sake of building up the intensity of his own eventual orgasm, he tarries and keeps on beating her.

She cries out from the renewed pleasure, and he laughs, pulling the plug out to its widest part; he knows and she knows that if he truly fucks her with it--that is, pulls it fully out of the ring of muscle and drives it back in again over and over--she will come like a shot.

"Why is your pussy so wet?" he asks when he sees a string of sap dangling from her pussy. "Hmm?" he asks and slips the paddle between her legs, snapping it off her pussy in short, sharp strokes, making her sob into her arms. "You've ruined this paddle!" he cries in mock-indignation, then proceeds to strike her pussy and arse even harder and nevermind her cries: he stands beside her and puts his back into his strokes, spanking her with the full force of his arm, the same force he'd use when whipping a soldier for insubordination.

Soon, her pussy is glistening all over from his blows, shining with her sap; the paddle has transferred some of that gleam onto her buttocks, so that her entire arse is not only red and swollen, but shining with pain and arousal. The sight is so beautiful he is crying out hoarsely every time he strikes her; he lets go of the plug to squeeze his cock, to squeeze his balls, half to give himself pleasure and half to give himself pain, so that he won't come there and then.

"Answer me! Why is your pussy so wet?" he barks, even if he knows she can't reply: he's beating her far too vigorously for that, and she knows that whatever she said, it would only incite him into further cruelties.

Speaking of which, it's time he brought out his favourite: he discards the paddle and grabs a vicious bamboo cane, swishing it quickly through the air to terrorise her with it.

She hates the cane and that's why he loves it; it's a fantastic tool for turning any woman obedient, their fear of the cane making them very keen to fullfill even his most depraved perversions. They'd do anything to avoid its sting, no matter how sick and humiliating his demands.

He stands behind her, stroking her arse with one hand and tapping her cheek with the cane. "What's the matter, slave? No heartrending protests? No desperate pleas for mercy?"

"Please, sir!" she cries, in genuine fear. "Please, be noble, be gracious, be humane," she asks. "I'll do anything you ask."

He lets out a sharp, short laugh. "Then, you'll take my cane, too, won't you, my pretty?" he says and draws the tip of the cane down the dip of her spine. Swiftly, he steps back and strikes her right across the buttocks, the sting pure agony now that it lands on skin already glowing from pain.

"Master, please!"

"You'll take six, or I won't fuck you!" he cries and lashes her across the buttocks, four cruel strokes that break the skin; he pauses to watch as tiny pinpricks of blood swell in the welts. He is panting, making long, ugly moans as he masturbates furiously, rocking on the balls of his feet, so close to coming.

With a harsh cry, he forces himself to stop stroking his cock; he delivers the last two strokes with all his might, slashing across the welts to open them further. These blows send blood and sap spraying through the air, speckling his stomach with red; he bites down on a howl, his belly rippling as he looks down at himself, panting.

But then, he realises she's slumped completely: the pain has struck her unconscious. That's very good, he thinks; he just rearranges her limp body over the table, her belly down and her legs bent, her pussy and her arse perched just over the edge of the table.

She wakes up to an incredible stretch: his cock inside of her pussy, the plug still firmly nestled inside of her arse. She cries out weakly as his enormous cock slides in and out of her beaten, aching pussy; he just chuckles wickedly as he fucks her, torturing her with very slow strokes.

"How do you like that, slave?" he asks and flicks his thumb across the base of the plug.

"Oh, Heavens!" she moans.

"Yeah?" he says and smacks her buttocks, the sting making her tense; she is so full she can't even clench around him. "Does my little whore like her master's cock?" he coos condescendingly. "Like the way it feels in your pussy?"

"You're so huge," she whispers and claws at the table, in more pain than pleasure as he fucks her a little faster. "Oh, Master, it hurts."

"Good!" he says and swings his gloved hand over her buttocks, smacks her to make them jiggle around his cock. "Remember, you are not allowed to come until my cock's in your arse," he says and thumbs the plug, making her gasp. "I'm just slicking up my cock," he says and leans over her. "It's going to hurt so much when I fuck you in the arse," he gloats and presses as deep inside of her as he can, rolling his hips to make the plug feel agonising inside her arse. "You'll think this felt tender in comparison."

"Please, sir!" she wails, her arse already so sore. "Please, don't fuck my arse!" she sobs to incite him, like an innocent virgin about to be defiled. "Please, don't fuck me in the arse!" she repeats over and over, loving how this makes him bellow in pleasure, his cock plowing in her sloshing cunny--

With a moan, he pulls out, his wet cock slapping against his belly; he nearly just came and she knows it. Panting harshly, he starts to pull out the plug; when it slips out of her, she thinks he's going to discard it, but he just spits on her arse and drives it all the way back in again. She screams at this, screams louder when he starts to fuck her with the plug like this, withdrawing it completely only to push it back in again. In this manner, he keeps torturing the ring of muscle into opening, deliberately making it sore as he goes; he also knows it's a very quick way to force a woman into orgasm, chuckling wickedly as he sees her immediately brought to the brink.

It hurts so much, yet her pussy is not only wet but trickling, dripping off the edge of the table; she pants against the table, her teeth and tongue pressed against the dark wood.

It's then that he starts to rub her clitoris, stroking it firmly as he plunges the plug in and out again; she judders into a violent orgasm, her body unable to hold back any longer. Shrieking at the top of her lungs, she sprays his hands, sprays the floor, the whole table rattling as he ravishes her arse with the toy.

Finally, he slides the plug back inside and to her shock, he begins to spank its base with harsh, cruel blows; he cackles with glee when this gets yet more sprays out of her, her entire body convulsing between his torturing hands.

"I'll forgive you for that orgasm," he laughs, "but only because I've waited too long to fuck your arse already." He pulls out the plug, walks around the table and offers it to her mouth. "Taste your arse," he says. "Taste how hard you just came," he says and she sucks the toy dutifully, even moaning in pleasure; she loves the way that gets him to hiss in pleasure, gets him to stroke his cock faster. "Good whore," he says and licks the root of the toy, where she couldn't reach. "Delicious," he chuckles. "Do you like the flavour?"

"No," she moans in pretend-disgust like a spoiled noble maiden. "You're a nasty man, disgusting!" she spits. "Nobody is as sick as you!"

He just laughs and kisses her for that--but briefly; he really must fuck her arse now. He plunges his cock inside her pussy to wet it, scoops up some more of her sap and fucks it inside of her arse with two fingers; she knows he will make himself sore by using just sap and spit, but the greater pain he knows it gives her is worth it as far as he's concerned, just like crushing her with his armour had been.

"Hold yourself open," he says, groaning in pleasure as she obeys, loving the sight of her dark pink arsehole, already so swollen and glistening.

He spits on the head of his cock and pushes inside. Even if he's opened her thoroughly, even if she's already come once, even if she's pushing out with all her might, it's still overwhelming for her; when he begins to dip his cock into the muscle, she gasps as if burnt. But he just groans deep in his belly and rocks himself deeper with every thrust; when the head finally slips inside and her muscles cramp around the most sensitive part of his cock, he throws back his head and moans.

She is surprised when he doesn't stay like that, given how often he loves to torture women by staying still at this point, pleasuring his cock with their cramping muscles; he just scoops up some more sap to slicken himself and starts to thrust straight away, so heated he can't wait any longer.

But then, she can't think any more, clutching the table with her knuckles white, her skin blanching white, her vision flashing white: he is so huge, stretching her so violently, sliding so deep inside of her guts it's like being impaled upon a lance of flesh. With his lust he's gutting her, goring her, driving into her internal organs so hard she thinks she might be sick; she hears her own, raw moan, more animal than human, as if from somewhere far away.

"Fuck!" he roars, louder than her, their noises now echoing off the stone walls of the chamber; he mauls her buttocks with his hands, squeezing them and slapping them as he pounds her, making the welts bleed again. As his hips beat into her buttocks, they become smeared with blood and sweat and sap, Gan keening as he paints himself with her pain; now, he gets so deep inside of her that her buttocks jiggle with his every thrust, his hips hammering her further onto the table.

With a growl, he yanks her hips closer again; he pulls her arms behind her back, crossing them at the wrists over the small of her back. "Keep them there," he snarls. He then resumes his savaging of her, his balls swollen and high, slapping noisily against her pussy as he pounds her with long, stabbing thrusts. Nothing exists for him apart from the tight heat of her arse and the need to thrust into it over and over; he's become but pure copulating animal, pure throbbing flesh, pure ravaging fuck.

She is howling continuously, now, barely conscious from the intensity of the sensations, so far beyond pleasure or pain; it's like being fucked by lightning, being ravished by a storm, being swallowed by the sun.

And now, the human storm lifts her up and holds her against his body, lifting her into a kneeling position on the table. Moaning, he fucks her slowly, the storm become an undulating sea as he rocks into her arse, mouthing her shoulders, squeezing her heavy breasts in his hands. He takes his right hand to her pussy and it's so sore, so starved of touch that when he cups it in his hand, her whole body judders against his. He cups the plush mound as if weighing it, squeezing it in his hand; inhaling the rich scents of her sap and the leather, he shudders in pleasure against her body in turn.

"Such a fat pussy," he rasps wetly in her ear, squeezing her pussy so hard that she drips from between his fingers. "Like a ripe peach, dripping fucking nectar!" he cries and slaps it, rubs it to make her sob and spasm in his embrace. "Such fat tits, such a soft belly," he murmurs and gropes and slaps them greedily, "such a big fat arse!" he groans, fucking her so hard and fast she is ululating. "Ahh!" he cries as if he can't bear it, unable to stop thrusting.

Yet soon, he is breathless and slows down again, fucking her with deliberately sweet, pleasuregiving thrusts. He yanks off his gloves with his teeth, needing to feel her body with his bare hands; he then grabs her by the hair and tilts her head to nuzzle her cheek over her shoulder. He slides his other hand to her pussy again, pinches her swollen clitoris tightly between two fingers and begins to rub it from side to side, making her tremble and shake and moan; he fucks her sore, raw arse with slow, mercilessly long strokes, forcing her to sink deeper onto his cock than ever before. Now, he is dipping past the bend of her guts into her colon, and every time his glans slides in and out of that deepest gate, her pussy trickles and her eyes roll back in her head; she can't stop shaking, the intensity of such deep penetration rendering her utterly helpless in his embrace.

"Do you like me, girl?" he asks softly, staring into her eyes over her shoulder; he rolls his hips, his eyes half-lidded, their kohl smeared, his pupils dilated from pleasure. He pulls almost all the way out of her arse, then slides slowly inside again, the pleasure-pain excruciating; he can feel her pussy clenching and fluttering between his hand and his prick. "Do you like my cock?"

And the need in his voice, the need in his eyes stabs her in the heart; he strokes her and fucks her so well she is quivering upon the edge of orgasm.

"I love you," she chokes, staring right into his eyes; she means it from the bottom of her heart. "I love you, Master," she whispers.

His smile is dazzling. The joy on his face makes her unravel, body and soul: now, he's giving her more of those deep dips into her guts, stroking her clitoris firmly; her teeth are chattering, her body trembling--

He leans in to murmur in her ear.

"Come."

She screams from the bottom of her lungs, her body jerking and spasming violently as it crashes into ecstasy. Every time he hits her deep in her guts, a new wave of even greater pleasure explodes through her, her whole body flashing with white and purple and black. Tossed helplessly upon its waves, she loses control of her muscles completely: her pussy spasms and sprays all over his balls, her body relinquishing control of even its basicmost functions to her beloved master. With his wild, hammering thrusts, he drives her galloping heartbeat, controls her gasping breaths, beating yet more convulsions of ecstasy from her womb.

Keening, he pushes her head down into the table, roaring as she convulses and gushes around him, his rubbing hand spraying her fluids all over their thighs. Her arse falls so completely open with her contractions that with every thrust, he now slides in to the hilt; he moans and slams his hips tightly into her arse with every stroke, moans again every time his glans nestles in that bend of her guts.

"Stroke your pussy," he says, panting, and smacks her arse. "I want to see just how open you are."

Her heartbeat thunders in her ears, her abused pussy so swollen it hurts to touch; her hands are shaking as she obeys, her body covered in sweat. She wonders if he can even hear her soft, breathless "Yes, Master."

He slows down, but his noises are low and dark, frightening to her: he only sinks into this level when he wallows in his deepest perversions, and there's no knowing what he'll do.

He half pants, half laughs with his tongue hanging out, wet and disgusting; she can feel his spittle spraying onto her back, and shivers in a mixture of terror and arousal.

He is so aroused from the hot wet silk of her arse that he is trembling, having to make an effort to steady himself upon his feet for what he wants to do next. For now, he starts to pull all the way out, then plunge all the way in, all the way out and all the way in with every stroke. He moans deeply, like an animal lowing its heat as he watches every glistening inch of his golden brown cock sinking into her reddened, welted arse; every time he pulls out, she gapes open wide, the rim of her arsehole--always so tight, always so resisting--distended into a smooth, dark pink ring. He must bend down to look inside, to spread her open to better gaze into her heaving red guts; her flesh breathes, and he can see how hard her pussy clenches from here, her flesh heaving again as she cries out helplessly.

Moaning, he plants his face between her buttocks and licks her on the inside; he stiffens his tongue and pushes it in as deep as he can, twirling it around the inside of the rim. When she cries out and spasms shut against his face, he just spits on his fingers, tucks them in and twists them inside her arse.

"That's four," he tells her, just to get her to moan; he curls his fingers as hard as he can, turning that moan into a howl. He fucks her with his fingers and curls them harder and harder, laughing wickedly as that turns her howls into screams; only when she starts to sob--trembling in what looks like another oncoming orgasm--does he pull out and stop.

He spits on his cock and pushes it back inside her arse; he takes his fingers into his mouth, licking and sucking and snorting as he sucks her taste off them.

"Tasty little shithole," he snarls and continues his deep, long thrusts, each one now a slow stab into her guts. Hungry for that tight squeeze at the bend of her guts, he groans every time he nestles there, as deeply as a man can rest inside a woman: when he stays still long enough, he can feel the back wall of her womb underneath his cock, feel the pulse of the great veins there.

"Fuck!" he cries, throwing back his head; now, he starts fucking her arse faster, keening as he watches himself sliding in and out, their fluids now a foaming ring around the rim of her arse. "Say the words, girl," he murmurs. "You know what your master wants to hear."

She shivers, knowing what he means; she makes an appalled whimper, again like a horrified maiden being defiled. Yet still, she rolls her arse around his cock, shaking her fat buttocks from side to side in a screwing motion, his prick rubbing the walls of her guts deliciously: this gets him to moan in delight, to offer his cock for her to dance upon.

"Say it!" he cries and slaps her arse.

"Master!" she wails. "Please don't make me taste my arse! I can't do it," she whimpers. "I'm not clean enough!"

He moans from that: the exact words he wanted to hear.

"Insolent slave!" he cries.

Growling, he lifts her off the table and hauls her to a torture bench, so that he can quickly strap her to the position he wants her in: folded double very tightly, her knees on either side of her chest, her arse and her mouth at the perfect height for him to use.

"Now!" He spits in her face and slaps her harshly, on both cheeks; he pushes his cock back inside her arse and slaps her again, loving the way this makes her clutch around his prick. "If I say you are my whore, you are my whore!" he barks, slapping her other cheek. "And you'll do what a whore does!"

He grabs her by the chin and stares into her eyes, fucking her arse with slow, deliberate thrusts. "Now, say the words your Master wants to hear," he says firmly.

She moans in exasperation, pretending she doesn't want to say the words, pretending to act them for his sake; in reality, her pussy is pulsing and dripping from extreme arousal, her heart pounding wildly from excitement.

"Master," she coos, as if ashamed to ask, "what does it look like down there?"

And oh, the way he quivers in pleasure and laughs when he realises what she's doing; oh, the way he hisses and rolls his hips to reward her! He makes a show of looking down at himself, frowning and shaking his head.

"Very sticky, my girl," he tuts. "Are you sure you wish to know?"

"Please?" she asks in a girlish voice and bites her lip. "What does it look like when you fuck me in the arse, sir?"

"Oh--!" he laughs, and in that moment, he loves her for prompting him so audaciously, his heart flipping in his chest at the way she so indulges his perversions. "Beautiful," he says and pulls back, withdrawing almost completely to admire the view, only the tip of his cock remaining inside of her. "Can you see that?"

"Yes, Master," she says, her voice trembling as she watches the foam gathering upon his cock, the way he's glistening as he teases the mouth of her arse with the glans; her pussy squeezes violently from her need to have his cock deeper in her arse.

Grinning, his eyes slitted, he caresses her cheek with the backs of his fingers; she is now so sensitised even this little touch makes her jerk.

"What do you think of my cock, girl?" he asks, now pulling out completely, then dipping the head inside just past the muscles, only to withdraw again.

She sobs in despair at that, sobs so hard her pussy drips a rivulet of sap onto his teasing cock. "Oh, Master; it's beautiful, so, so beautiful," she speaks rapidly. "So golden, so long, so strong and so thick. No one is as thick as you," she groans and throws back her head, moaning as he dips all the way inside, only to withdraw again. "No one!"

"Does it hurt when I fuck you in the arse?" he asks, making each one of his dips deeper and deeper, fucking her with undulating thrusts. "Hmm?"

"Yes!" she croaks helplessly. "It hurts so much, sir!" Her arse is burning, now, so much of the sap and spit having worn off; her guts are now so sensitised she can feel every millimetre of his every thrust.

"Good," he hisses. "Fuck!" he groans as he looks down and sees just how open she is. "Your arse is gaping," he rasps; "so red and so raw, every wrinkle smoothed out, just an open--" and he stabs and stabs inside, "gaping--hole!"

She can tell he's close, so she has to be quick; she looks down and whimpers, begging in her sweetest voice. "Please, Master; please rub my pussy," she coos. "Please, fuck me deeply; please use my arse."

He moans and kisses her deeply; he takes his thumb to her clitoris and begins to rub it, pressing as deep into her as he can and staying there. "Tell me, whore," he snarls, pressing his forehead against hers. "Tell me what you want."

She licks his lips, breathing against his mouth. "You've been fucking me so hard, Master," she kisses the words into his mouth; "getting your beautiful cock so messy, so slick, all dirty..."

He whimpers into her mouth at that "dirty," fucking her mouth with his tongue, just as deeply as he now fucks her arse; his balls are lifting and he is so close, so close.

"Please, let me taste my arse, sir," she begs, cooing in her sweetest voice. "Please, let me lick off that foam," she simpers, "please let me suck you clean!"

Howling, he tears himself off her, so violently he almost falls over; panting, he watches as her gaping arsehole slowly squeezes shut, pursing out a thick dollop of white foam. Staggering, his heart pounding in his chest, he carefully scoops up that dollop with the head of his cock; straddling her spread thighs, he grabs her hair and offers his cock to her lips.

It's beautifully marbled with white streaks of slime all across its length, garlanded by the foam of their fucking: the admixture of their sexual fluids, sweat and spit and anal mucus. Only now can he see there's a little streak of yellow in the dollop at the tip; he whimpers through his teeth at the sight.

She looks up at him, pleading for him with her smeared eyes, her face glowing red from his passion's violence; she daren't speak, daren't even open her mouth yet, still awaiting his orders.

He narrows his eyes, grinning wolfishly. "Lick it off the shaft--slowly," he tells her. "Don't suck the head until I tell you to."

"Yes, Master."

Still looking into his eyes, she gives his cock a long lick from root to frenulum, deliberately avoiding the dollop on his glans in a tease. The lack of lubricant makes it especially thrilling: now, the only things she tastes are the fluids of their bodies combined. Adoringly, she laps and laves at his shaft, moaning sweetly at the taste.

"Mmm."

"Yeah?" he pants with his mouth open. "Does my little anal whore like the taste of her arse?"

"Tastes so good, sir," she coos and flutters her lashes. "I love it when you use no lubricant," she says, and oh, the way his eyes flash in perverse delight at that! "Really rub the walls of my arse so hard it hurts, rub off so much rich foam," she coos, making him whimper beautifully; she licks this slime off his shaft eagerly. "Mmm," she purrs again, loving the way his balls tighten as she licks them, too, loving to keep him hovering on the edge of orgasm like this; finally, when all but the head is clean, she licks her lips.

"Please, Master," she says and gazes hungrily at the head, then up into his eyes. "Please let me suck it, now?"

"It's going to taste very strong," he says and shakes his head, tutting. "Are you sure you can take it?"

"I love it when it's all dirty, all musty," she croons, knowing the words with which to push him over the edge. "Please, sir," she begs, licking her lips again, her breath warm and wet over his cock. "Please let me taste my shit!"

"Fuck!" he cries and slides his cock into her mouth. "Suck!"

Looking up into his eyes, she sucks him tight, with no hesitation whatsoever; the rich taste of the foam makes her pussy squeeze so hard her entire body judders, the bench creaking from the power of her spasm.

"Mmmmm!" she moans in such genuine delight that he howls, hurtling towards orgasm.

"Taste it, taste it, taste it; suck off all that dirty foam, you filthy fucking bitch!" he says rapidly and thrusts into her mouth so hard and so frantically he's hurting himself. "Suck it, suck it, suck it," he whimpers, "suck, suck, suck!"

And then he can speak no more: he screams and curls up around her, shooting her mouth full of sperm. He comes in such huge, voluminous ejaculations she can't suck them down fast enough, coughing out thick ribbons of sperm as he fucks and fucks her gagging throat. At the sight of the mess, his cock spurts yet another spray of come into her sucking, retching mouth; he keens and thrusts and thrusts, holding her head down until she's swallowed it all.

With a loud cry, he yanks his cock out of her mouth and plunges it back inside her arse in one swift, brutal movement; it hurts so much she blacks out for a few seconds, only to jerk awake as he slaps her face, fucking her so violently the bench rattles. Crying out with every blow, he slaps her face again and again, striking her so hard his sperm sprays out of her mouth; he moans and kisses her hungrily, licking and sucking and slurping his come out of her mouth as he fucks her. He's covered in sweat, loose strands of his hair sticking to his face, his face glowing a demonic red as he keeps on fucking her, like he were possessed.

"Good fucking whore," he mewls, his voice thin and high, his prick so hypersensitised; with one hand, he grabs her hair and tilts back her head. "Now, come on your master's cock one last time," he says and brings his other hand's thumb to her clitoris.

She jerks as he rubs her, her clitoris so swollen and raw; he swallows her moan into his mouth, kissing her deeply and hungrily. He's been starved of kissing tonight, making up for that now by feasting upon her mouth: he sucks the remnants of sperm and foam from her tongue, licks them from the insides of her cheeks and her palate, shivering in an orgasmic wave of pleasure at the taste.

She sobs into his mouth from how well he is fucking her, her heart swelling from him doing all of this for her sake. She loves him for being the kind of lover--and torturer-- whose satisfaction comes from seeing a woman's reactions, from seeing her undone by the pains and pleasures he deals her. He knows very well that by now, her body is so beaten, so overwhelmed from his violent fucking that another orgasm will bring her not only ecstasy but also agony.

He takes her with slow, deep strokes, even tilts the bench towards himself a little, so that gravity forces her even deeper onto his cock; never ceasing in his kissing of her, never erring in the firm strokes of his thumb, he rolls his hips until she keens into his mouth, her pussy trickling and trickling onto his cock.

"You feel so good, Master," she sobs into his mouth, crying and trembling uncontrollably, now; he slides in and out of her arse so easily, now, as if there'd never been any resistance there at all. Her teeth are chattering, her entire body covered in goosebumps, and she can't breathe for her sobbing. "L-love you, Master," she weeps into his mouth, her teeth clicking against his. "I love you."

"Good girl," he whispers into her mouth, slides out and in again, hitting her just at the right spot and she is gone: her orgasm expands from that one point of light through her whole body and explodes into the vastness of a sun, blowing her away in its luminous brilliance, nirvana. She shatters into a thousand shards of light, her consciousness slammed out of her body; when it surges back again, he is still fucking her, his cock hammering bliss through her.

He is licking her tears from her face, smiling wickedly in delight; his limbs trembling from exertion, he rolls his hips into her one last time. He buries himself into his balls and stays there; he claws at her ribs and cries out hoarsely, and there's a sudden warm wetness inside of her.

"Master!" she laughs, and he laughs into her mouth, shuddering from his sudden, unexpected second orgasm. He just kisses her and keeps on thrusting into her, his warm sperm sluicing out of her arse with his thrusts; in his exhaustion, he is so much more relaxed and happy, now, like he's exorcised demons.

Finally, he collapses on top of her, panting; he rubs sweat off his face into her hair. "Now, when I pull out, I want you to try and hold it in," he murmurs. "Can you do that for me?"

"But, Master--" she bites her lip.

"That's right," he laughs and raises his eyebrow; "you will probably gape quite prettily." He looks around himself at the arrangement of the bench, clasping the lever. "All right. I'm going to tilt you up now, and slide out very carefully; try to squeeze as hard as you can to hold it in."

"Yes, Master."

He works the lever to slowly tilt the bench into a horizontal position, following its movement so that he doesn't slip out of her; the length of his prick allows this easily, making him grin with satisfaction as he remains firmly buried inside of her.

"Good girl," he says, patting her pussy. "Now, I'm going to count to three, and at 'three,' I want you to let go. Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir," she grins, his filthiness making her shiver with anticipation.

"One..." he says and pulls back so that only the head of his cock remains inside her; at "two," he falls to his knees before her and sticks out his tongue, "three!"

She howls in shock--she'd thought he'd make her do this into a cup--and pushes out with all her might; as the come splatters all over his tongue and his face, he laughs like a maniac.

As all the warm, richly flavoured come lands on his tongue, he moans in ecstasy, stroking his cock wildly; moaning, he plants his mouth in her arse, plunging his tongue inside the remaining gape. Snorting and sucking and panting, he licks it all up, wallowing in the delicious filth; ignoring her cries and jerks of pain, he pushes three fingers inside her arse to scoop it all out onto his tongue. He sucks the sperm from his fingers, moaning just as whorishly as she had done, playfully imitating her fellatio: her rolling head movements and her cooing moan.

"Mmmm!" he says at her in imitation of her own noises, his eyes twinkling; when she bursts out laughing, he licks his moustache and laughs with her, and it's the most perverse and the most beautiful sight she's ever seen.

Chuckling, he operates the lever to tilt the bench again so that he can embrace her; he kisses her deeply to share the taste with her.

"Mmmmm!" she moans right back at him as she licks the sperm from his mouth; soon, they're both chuckling and giggling, laughing so hard they're jiggling.

With one last wet kiss, he unbuckles her restraints, plucks her from the bench and lowers her to the bed next to the bench. There, he lies down beside her, utterly exhausted.

"Ai-aia," he groans deeply and closes his eyes.

Curled up next to him, she adores his savage, debauched beauty: his golden body gilded further by sweat, his face and chest flushed red from passion. His muscles are still rippling from exhaustion here and there, his limbs relaxing little by little until they finally rest peacefully upon the bed. She counts his scars, the way she often does when they lie together in bed after sex; however, she is soon distracted by the full, voluptuous beauty of his genitals, nestled between his thick, powerful thighs. Smooth-shaven and a darker gold than the rest of him, they are the most beautiful male genitals she's ever seen: his long, fat cock and full, heavy balls make her mouth water even when soft, shining as they do from sex.

"Wash us," he murmurs, without opening his eyes.

"Yes, Master."

She goes to wash herself behind a screen, then brings a fresh bowlful of warm water and some towels to the bed. His eyes are still closed as he lies there, too tired to open them; when she kneels between his legs, he doesn't react, just waits for her to wash him.

Oh, his surprise, then, when she lifts and parts his legs and starts to lick him clean! Before he can protest, she has lifted his hips and buried her mouth between his buttocks; he cries out in shock and looks down in disbelief, then groans and throws his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes again.

"Go on, then, you little vixen," he mumbles. "I'm too tired to fight you."

She chuckles into his cleft, rolling her tongue over his arsehole; he whimpers sweetly and clutches the sheets as she dutifully licks every fold clean of sweat and must and sex. Worshipping him with her mouth, she laves his groin with her tongue, sucking off every drop of their bodily fluids; she is perversely thrilled by the weight and feel of his completely soft cock filling her mouth.

He rolls his head on the pillow and moans, his cock stirring in her mouth, pulsing against her tongue.

"That's right," he laughs. "I never did let you suck me clean just now," he says and strokes her cheek. "Is this how much you love tasting your arse off my cock?"

"Yes, Master," she says as she begins to lick his cock clean. "You taught me to love it," she says and sucks his half-hard cock with great passion, sucking and licking him clean thoroughly.

"Good girl," he says, ruffling her hair. "Now, wash me properly so we can get some sleep."

After she's done that, he kisses her and pulls her to lie down on top of him, like a blanket of flesh. He smacks her buttocks with his hands and kisses her again. "Going to reward you for this next week," he says, utterly surprising her.

"Really, Master?"

"Mmm. You've just given me an idea, you see." He drums his fingers across her buttocks. "How about we make it all about arse-tasting the next time? You can taste mine, too, if you like," he grins. "Yum yum," he says cheekily.

"Sir!" She flushes, her pussy squeezing so hard she judders on top of him.

"I thought you'd like that," he grins.

She laughs and groans and buries her face in his shoulder, and he laughs and wraps his arms around her.

He makes her stay like that for a long while, until he finally falls asleep underneath her. All demonic violence now gone from his face, he looks like an entirely different man. Her heart swells from love, from having succeeded at exorcising those demons with her body: she shudders to think of what he could do, were his sexual violence not contained so well by their play, safely expelled onto a willing woman instead of random victims. How many unwilling women has their play saved from his clutches, she wonders? How many has he, having glutted his evil upon her, left unravished?

Whatever the answer, she is glad, so glad: he is a most wonderful master to have.

She loves him so much that she hasn't got the heart to climb off him; her heart full of joy, her body glowing with satiation, she falls asleep atop him, enfolding the beast in her love.

***

THE END

***