Kinktober Masterlist
vi coactus - "under duress"
Simon "Ghost" Riley/TF141 x f!reader
Kinks > SHAME, forced orgasms, bimbo/dumbification
Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.
“Under duress” — A quick exfil means limited seats in the TAC-V. Simon lets you sit on his lap, but it’s a really bumpy road. When you realize that his thigh is the perfect shape, and that it’s pressing against your most sensitive spot, there’s not much you can do to stop yourself. Might as well enjoy the ride.
Warnings: SHAME! EMBARRASSMENT! SHAME!!!!, mean teasing, slut shaming, it's not non-con but no one asks for permission; this truck is not a safe-space.
No one said a word. Once the noise of the petrol explosion and the machine guns faded from your ears, all that you could hear was the rattle and rumble of the engine of the TAC-V. The mission had been successful, but barely. You’d secured the package, but it had cost you the chopper exfil that you’d been desperately counting on. What was a quick twenty minute flight was now an eight hour drive through the bumpiest mountain road known to man, and you were sitting on Ghost’s lap for the entire trip.
The TAC-V sat two in front and three in back, so with Price and Gaz up in the driver and passenger seats, you should have been able to fit in the rear with Ghost and Soap. But, the care package was taking up your spot. As the smallest member of the squad, you were relegated to lap-status, much to your audible dismay.
“Shut your mouth and get in the truck, Corporal!” Price had shouted, spraying cover fire over the hood of the vehicle.
So, that’s where you found yourself. Mouth shut. Seat secured.
There was only one problem. Ghost’s thighs were enormous. He never skipped leg day, and when you tried to sit against his hips to distribute your weight, his gear vest was in the way. So, he’d shifted you over onto his right thigh, forcing you to straddle him, and now you could feel… everything.
Every time Price hit another bump – which was once or twice every few seconds at this point – Ghost’s rock-solid quad muscle would jerk up into your pussy, shaking your most sensitive bits. It was savage, but it was making your body respond in ways that you did not appreciate. And now, you were in the middle of fighting off the most embarrassing orgasm of your life.
You could feel how wet you were through the canvas pants you were wearing. Your panties were soaked in the first hundred kilometers, so they were useless against your slick pleasure. Soon, Ghost would be able to feel the warm stain of your cunt imprinting itself on his own trousers, and there was nothing you could do about it.
You had tried to shift away in the beginning of this trip, rotating your hips back and forth, trying to search for a less-shameful angle, but he had grumbled,
“Sit still, love. Tha’s enough squirmin’ around.”
His hand had reached out to secure your hip, pulling you down into a deep seated position, crushing your soft lips against his thigh and spreading them apart unknowingly.
You’d managed to suffer in pure silence so far, but that was becoming more and more challenging as the ride got rougher. The desire to roll your hips against him to take the edge off of the blinding friction you were experiencing was mind-numbing. You were sweaty from battle and now you were sweaty from nerve-racking lust, and there was no escape. You still had hundreds of kilometers to go, and you didn’t know what you were going to do.
Your body knew exactly what it was going to do, though. It was going to come whether you wanted to or not.
“You alright, lass? Car sick?” Johnny asked, peering over at you as your head rested against the driver’s headrest in front of you.
“Need a break, babes?” Gaz turned in his seat to check on you.
“No can do,” Price shook his head and peered at you in the rearview mirror, “Still in the red zone. We can’t stop here and expect to make it out without drawing unwanted attention.”
“Here,” Gaz reached back and unclipped your vest, “At least take this off so you can catch a breath.”
You let him slip the vest off your shoulders and stuff it in the footwell on the floor in front of him. He passed you his canteen, and you tried to open it with trembling hands.
“She’s not fuckin’ sick,” Ghost hissed, grabbing the canteen and opening it for you before lifting it to your lips so you could drink.
The rest of the truck-full of men waited to hear the rest of Ghost’s explanation. You felt heat rush to your cheeks in painful humiliation as you waited for him to reveal your predicament. You knew, now, that he could feel you. You had thought you’d gotten away with it so far, but it was too obvious. He could feel the wet, sticky patch on his quad growing with every tremulous shake of the truck, and he knew what was happening to you. You could almost hear the jeering smile on his lips when he told them,
“She needs a quick wank, innit that right, Corporal?”
You tried to keep your eyes trained on the floor, but you had to see what their faces looked like. You lifted your gaze to meet Price’s bright blue eyes in the mirror, the evidence of Ghost’s truth written all over your expression.
The silence was broken up only by the road noise. No one spoke and no one breathed. You looked to Gaz and saw his mouth open in shock, curling at the edge of his lip with a boyish glee. Soap’s brow was furrowed in disbelief,
“S’that true, bonnie?”
Ghost didn’t even give you a chance to answer him. He shoved his gloved hand under your crotch as if to feel the evidence on his hand that he was sensing on his thigh, chuckling at your sorry predicament,
“Bumpy road, been wet and warm for almost an hour. Gonna have myself a pretty little pussy stain by the time we get to base. And if I give her somethin’ to work against…”
Your lieutenant curled his fingers that he had shoved underneath you, finding your swollen clit with a surprising ease. As if he’d pushed a button, you let out an obvious moan. You cut it short, unable to hold it back from crawling out of your throat, but the damage was done.
Silence again, and then Gaz’s low voice,
“Holy fuck.”
Ghost removed his hand and settled back in his seat, keeping his grip on your hips with a steadfast strength. He was looking at you in the mirror along with Price who kept glancing up from the road. The message in Ghost’s eyes was a clear challenge; he wasn’t going to give you any more relief, and if you wanted to come on him, you’d need to figure it out yourself.
The urge to hump his solid thigh was overwhelming, and now that the cat was out of the bag, you thought it wouldn’t be possible for you to be any more ashamed, so you started to hump your pussy against him, ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly… but, Ghost couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
“See? Needy thing’s grindin’ on me. Can’t help yourself, huh, love?”
You shook your head, looking to Price for some sort of rescue, but what could he do? Your captain was driving as fast as he could out of enemy territory, and you were stuck in place, tumbling into an orgasm and suffering the pain of embarrassment in front of your whole squad.
You moaned, trying to hold your breath, but your whole body shook as you came. Your hole was so wet and burning hot, and you could feel yourself gush as you clenched your muscles around nothing, wishing you had something… someone… inside of you.
“There she is… good girl,” Ghost teased you, rubbing your back as you shuddered above him, rolling in your high.
“Did she just…” Soap gaped.
You looked up at him, and even though your eyes begged for pity, you received none from him. He met you with a filthy grin,
“Come over here with me, lass. I’ll give you somethin’ to fuckin’ sit on.”
He reached for your arm, attempting to drag you over the care package, but Ghost jerked his hand away and wrapped his arm around your belly, forcing you to lean back against him, the tools in his vest digging into your flesh,
“She’s fine where she is, Sergeant. Aren’t ya, sweetheart?”
You felt hot tears stinging the corners of your eyes, and you squeezed them shut, whispering,
“I’m s-sorry…”
“Shh, love. Nothin’ to be sorry for. Can’t be fuckin’ helped. C’mon,” he snarled in your ear, his mask smelling like his menthols and sweat, “Beg me to help you. Beg for my fingers, princess.”
“Simon,” Price warned, watching your degradation unfold behind him.
“Eyes on the bloody road, Cap,” Ghost chuckled, “Bumpy enough back here as it is.”
Gaz hadn’t stopped staring, and you watched in horror as he palmed his hard length over the rough denim of his jeans.
You felt yourself building to another crescendo, the waves of your first orgasm swelling to threaten a second, easier now that you’d let down so much silky come, allowing your pussy to slip that much faster over Simon’s huge thigh.
“Beg me, baby,” Ghost growled in your ear, “Beg me to fuckin’ touch you right here where they can all watch me make you come.”
“No…” You gasped, “I can’t… I’m not…”
“Not what? Not a dumb little slut? Oh, sweetheart. Yes, you are. You’re so fuckin’ wet it looks like you pissed yourself. I bet those pretty knickers are fuckin’ ruined, aren’t they?”
He grabbed you by the chin roughly, startling you, making your core clench tight, turned on by his cruel aggression as he almost shouted in your ear,
“Aren’t they? Tell the fuckin’ truth. Tell it to him,” Ghost’s eyes turned toward the rear view mirror and you looked up at Price, pleading with him for forgiveness in your tone. You mumbled,
“My panties… are…”
“He can’t hear you, baby.” Ghost held your face, forcing you to look at his captain in the eyes through the reflective glass.
“My panties are ruined, sir.”
“Is that so, Corporal?” Price asked in a low droll, and you saw him readjust himself in his pants before putting both fists back on the steering wheel, gripping it so tight that his knuckles turned as white as bone.
“Better see for myself, yeah?” Ghost chuckled, unbuttoning your trousers and yanking down the fly.
He reached inside and grabbed the fabric roughly in his hand and, with a strength that shocked you, he tore them right off of your body with a loud rip, breaking the elastic at the seam and slipping the scrap from under your lips and ass. He held it up for the entire truck to see, showing them how the gray cotton was stained dark from your wetness, how they gleamed in the light of the setting desert sun.
Soap reached out and snatched them from his hand, and Ghost laughed out loud, watching Johnny shove them to his nose and moan out a breath of satisfaction.
“Go on, then,” Ghost turned his attention back on you, “Beg me for it. I wanna hear you say please, sir. You got that, Corporal?”
He snaked his hand back down the front of your belly, barely touching your furry mons, resting his gloved finger just above the hood of your clit, touching you with a light, teasing pressure.
You could feel the rough canvas against your soft pussy now, and the seam was giving you something to grind against, but it was nothing like the feel of a strong finger. You chased another orgasm, but it was just out of reach. You were humping him lewdly, at this point, rocking your hips back and forth with abandon, unable to stop yourself from chasing your second, hard burst of pleasure.
You bit your lip, struggling with all your might, but you were failing to surge over that exaltant peak. You needed his help, but you didn’t want to beg for it. You couldn’t. You were too dismayed at your fallen state.
You looked at Gaz, hoping he could talk some sense into your lieutenant, but he was jerking himself off with a hand down his pants, watching you through hooded eyes. You turned your gaze to Soap who had your ripped panties in his hand and was using them to wet his own heavy cock, smearing your juices all over his ruddy head.
Ghost’s grip tightened on your jaw, and he turned your head toward his passenger window, stopping you from looking at the other men,
“They can’t help you, love. Just me. Now, use your fuckin’ words.”
“Please… touch me,” your voice was barely a whisper.
“Please, what?” He bit back.
“Please touch me, sir,” you whined, sick to your stomach at your own weakness.
“Tha’s a good girl,” he smiled.
He moved his fingers lower, shoving two of them between your lips, applying firm pressure to your clit. He didn’t even need to rub you. Your pussy started to come the moment it had his relief, and you cried out like a paid whore, keening into the hollow cab, rolling your hips against him, chasing your crashing orgasm.
Then, he started to move his hand frantically, rubbing you back and forth, dragging out your bursting come even further than you thought was possible, turning one orgasm into two, back to back, a painful overstimulation, enough to make your body convulse from his effort.
“No, no… oh, fuck!” You screamed, trying to close your legs but his thigh was in the way, and all you could do was ride him.
“Yeah, tha’s it, love. Give it to me. Come on me, you filthy fuckin’ slag. Let ‘em hear what I’m doin’ to this needy cunt.”
“Mmngh! Please… Ghost, please, oh, fuck…”
“Listen to that sound, lads,” he grunted, commenting on the wet, milking noises your cunt was making under his hand, “Runnin’ like a hot tap.”
“Hurry up, LT,” Soap barked, pulling on his cock with your panties wrapped around the hard shaft like he was furious with it, “I’ll only be so patient.”
Ghost shook his head,
“Tsch, tsch, alright, Johnny. If you insist. C’mon, baby. Keep those legs spread f’me like a good girl, yeah?”
You felt him ruck down the back of your pants and shove them onto your legs, exposing your ass to the whole truck. Then, you felt the tell-tale drag of his cockhead over your folds, and before you could even think to protest, he was shoving himself inside of you, slipping through your slick without much resistance, your wet come helping guide his length all the way up to your womb.
Once he had whet his prick down to its root in you, he used both hands to lift your hips and slam them back down, using you like a cocksleeve. He was so thick, but your body was primed and ready to take him, and you found yourself without words, only able to moan and whine as he filled you up.
Gaz reached over, leaning out of his seat to grab your face, turning you towards him so that he could kiss you. You couldn’t even kiss him back, you were so mindless, and he spent most of his time licking your lips and sucking on your tongue as you whimpered for Ghost’s heavy dick, your body jerking up and down as he slammed you onto his steel-hard length repeatedly.
“Does he feel good, babes?” Gaz asked you, sticking two of his fingers into your mouth and down your throat, making you choke on him until you started to instinctively suck and swallow against him, “Tha’s it. Pretty thing just needed somethin’ in her mouth, didn’t she?”
Every time you choked from Gaz’s hand in your throat, you clenched around Ghost’s cock, and he begged his sergeant for more,
“Choke her again, Garrick. Makes her so fuckin’ tight.”
Gaz laughed, full of mischief, and reached up with his other hand to pinch your nose. Then, inside of your mouth, he pressed his fingers in a downward motion over and over and over, making it feel like he was fucking your face with a throbbing dick, too big for you to breathe. You gagged, and then, when you tried to take a breath, you gagged again, your whole body spasming, fighting for air. You could only suck in short breaths when you opened your mouth wider, and Gaz held the relief of those moments from you for as long as he could.
Finally, Ghost wrapped both of his hands around your torso and ripped you away from Gaz’s cruel hand, laying you against his chest and fucking his cock up into you from below, creating loud, pornographic slapping sounds that filled the truck.
“Fuck!” Ghost groaned, “Gonna make me come, love. Say please, baby. C’mon. You can do it. Say it.”
“Dinnae think she’s still with us, LT. Fucked her brains right out of her head,” Soap chuckled.
“She can do it,” Ghost insisted, “C’mon, sweetheart. You’re not gettin’ my come until I hear you beg for it.”
You looked at his eyes in the mirror again, not recognizing yourself in such a mindless state of indulgence, drowning in pleasure and losing yourself to it. He was looking at you with such an intensity, you wanted to please him. You wanted to follow his orders. You wanted to show him that you could be such a good girl.
“P-please…. Please! Ungh, please, sir… Give me your come. Please, sir… I need it. I need it. I need… mmnff-fuck!”
You felt his cock swelling, throbbing, and bursting with hot, sticky ropes of his cream, buried deep inside of your walls, coating the head of your womb as your pussy squeezed out another orgasm, milking him like a hungry mouth. He pulled out a bit only to ram himself back in, deeper this time, stretching to touch the end of your sheath, aching to plant his seed.
“Fuck, finally,” Soap grunted, reaching over the crate with both hands this time to drag you from Ghost’s lap, “Couldnae wait much longer, LT.”
You felt Ghost’s cock slip from you, spilling his come down your leg, your pants sliding down to your boots as Soap dragged you into his lap.
“There she is,” Gaz smiled, returning to his efforts and shoving his fingers back down your throat, this time shifting them back and forth, massaging your tongue as he fucked you on his hand, “Suck them for me, baby. It’ll be my turn, soon.”
“Better enjoy the easy ride while you can, Corporal,” Price sneered, “You’ve got PT in my quarters as soon as we get back to base. Might take all night.”
As Johnny’s fat dick squeezed into your come-soaked pussy, you wanted to protest. You wanted to make some snide comment back, but your usual biting retorts were unavailable at the moment. You really were blissed out of your mind, and the only thing you could do was fuck and suck like the dumb little slut that you were.
If anyone comments on this OBVIOUSLY TAGGED shame kink fic that it was "too embarrassing to read!! huehueuhe"/"i tried but i couldnt do it. too cringe!", I'm gonna come to your house and shit in your shoes, you coward. Get the fuck off my page.
Kinktober Masterlist
pulvis et umbra sumus - "we are dust and shadow"
TF141 x f!reader
Kinks > monsters, knotting, ritual magic sex in a cave
Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.
Monster AU where the TF141 are gargoyles. You love your shitty 87th floor apartment, you really do. Sure, the view is mostly fog and smog and clouds, but your balcony is shielded by four awesome gargoyles. You spend long nights admiring their statuesque figures wishing they could come to life and please you since no human man seems to be able to. Be careful what you wish for, I guess?
Warning: short part with an abusive ex-boyfriend, but he gets gargoyled pretty quickly, so it's short-lived.
Rain pelted the grimy, floor-to-ceiling windows of your apartment. It seemed like it was always raining. You loved living downtown in District 10, you really did, but damn if it wasn’t hard to meet people. Sure, millions of people lived in the city right alongside you, but other than a few dates to the ramen shop around the corner, your attempts to find The One had fallen flat.
It was the same song and dance. They’d ask what you did for a living, and if they stuck around after you told them that you were a professional streamer, they either thought you were rich or that you wanted to flash your pussy on camera for money. Either way, the only guys who stuck around after they made their judgements about your job were either disappointed by your shitty studio apartment or were terrible in the sack. Clearly, they just wanted an easy lay and never called you again.
You didn’t really have anyone to complain to since your best friend abandoned you for Topeka, of all places, to get married and have a litter of babies. You were happy for her, truly, but bitching to a woman who was cherished by her man about your shitty Tinder dates was a dark, dark time that you didn’t care to have.
So, you smoked, and you told your gargoyles all about it.
Your apartment was unique in the fact that you had the entire patio to yourself, and it was shielded from the wind by the outstretched wings of four enormous gargoyles. They were huge, at least seven feet tall, and their bodies looked like they were ready to compete in the next strongman world championship.
You’d named them all, of course. There was the spooky one with a skull-shaped mask over his face and huge fangs that you called Mr. Bones, one with a mohawk that you named Mr. T, a supermodel-hot statue that you named Mr. Vain, and your favorite one, the biggest of them all and the guardian that sat right next to your bed, Mr. Big.
That’s where you found yourself tonight. You were crouched in your usual spot, tucked in an oversized raincoat, a pair of wellies, and nothing else, smoking a cigarette under the protective wings of Mr. Big.
You watched the tip glow golden bright as you took a drag, holding it in longer than normal, hoping to feel something other than disappointed.
“He was such a jerk, Big. Didn’t even bring a condom. Not sure someone with a dick that small should have that sort of audacity, ya know?”
Mr. Big didn’t reply. He looked out over the dense, foggy night and shielded you from the rain, keeping you dry while you smoked.
You leaned against his chest as he crouched over you, raking your eyes over his body with more appraisal than you usually did, confessing aloud,
“I bet you’ve got cock for days under that loincloth. And I bet you’d pay for a babe’s dinner. Maybe even buy her a strawberry shake afterwards. Bet you wouldn’t ask to come up; you’d just wait to be invited. And I bet you’d bring your own damn condoms to a third date, huh?”
He loomed. You sighed,
“Yeah, I know you would. You know what?”
At that very moment, you gazed up into the sky as the clouds shifted and cleared, revealing a heavy, orange harvest moon. You spotted a streak of falling stars out of the corner of your eye, and you watched as they crossed the moon’s body, falling towards earth, burning up a million miles away, and you said,
“I wish you guys were real.”
You watched the stars vanish over the horizon, and you took one last drag off of your cigarette, flinging it off the side like a nasty little gremlin, not caring where it landed or what catastrophe you had just contributed to. This whole world was fucked. What was one more cigarette butt, right?
“But, you’re not real, Mr. Big. Maybe one day you’ll wake up and come save me from this damn carousel of nightmares. You and your buddies could fly me around, give me a mindblowing fuck, and steal me away from here. Wouldn’t that be something?”
You stood up next to him, barely tall enough to reach his face even though he was crouched over. You caressed his cheek, wiping the raindrops from his brow, and lifted yourself up to kiss him on the corner of his bearded mouth, right where his fang protruded from the lip, round and sharp like a boar’s tusk.
“Goodnight, Mr. Big. See you in the morning.”
You toweled dry as you stepped through the window, using the same old towel you’d been using all week, making a mental note to get around to the laundry. Then, you snuggled under the covers, checking your notifications and getting upset that there weren’t more (even though you’d just checked them before you went out to smoke). Maybe you would have to start flashing your tits online if you wanted to make the real bucks.
You flipped your phone over and went to sleep, begging your brain to give you filthy gargoyle dreams.
Once dawn’s glow yanked you from your peaceful slumber, you’d forgotten all about why you’d been so sad. You forgot about Dan, or David (Darren?), whatever his name was. You hopped online and said hi to your early birds, fitting the headphones over your ears just to let them know you’d be back in a bit. Then, you had a quick shower, ducked out for half of a smoke, and got to work.
The day turned into night, and everything was great. The games were fun, chat was a riot, and you even got raided by one of your favorite mutuals. You ordered some takeout and video-chatted with some friends. You even hopped on the stream again for a double feature. All the darkness from the night before was lifted, and you felt like you might be alright. But, then, just as the sun was setting, you got a text.
donny-Hinge: hey babe. left my charger. can i come by in 15
you: sure
donny-Hinge: k thx
“Ugh!” You audibly exclaimed, forgetting you were still online.
Chat started pouring in with questions and asks about the text. Tell us! They exclaimed. What happened, momma?? They begged to know.
You thought about it for a minute, but you decided that your shitty love life was one thing you weren’t ready to own up to online, so you side-stepped,
“Forgot I had to take a friend to the airport. Gotta cut this short tonight, sorry. Love you guys! Don’t forget to live, laugh, love, like, share, sub!” You rolled your eyes at your own catchphrase and waved goodbye.
You flung down your headset and did a few soothing spins in your computer chair before deciding that you needed to kick this dude to the curb.
“What’s the sluttiest outfit I’ve got so this asshole knows what he’s missing?” You asked Mr. Vain who was sitting outside your bathroom window, looking bored.
“Coachella last year?” You dug around in the drawer and pulled out the too-short, can’t-wear-this-in-public slip dress, looking at Mr. Vain one last time before nodding, “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
You wiggled into the fit, mangled up your hair into a careless rumpled mess, and threw on some eyeliner to top it all off. Then, you waited. You checked your phone. You waited again. You paced. Then, you had a smoke to try and calm your nerves.
You huddled next to Mr. Big’s giant forearm and looked up at his bearded jaws from below,
“Still not real, huh? I could really use a big, scary beast for some support right now. Why does breaking up with losers still feel so shitty? He doesn’t deserve me, right?”
Mr. Big said nothing. He loomed, and nothing more.
“Right,” you whispered, starting to worry about yourself now that you were carrying on multiple daily conversations with statues.
Your door buzzed. Dumbo was here for his charger.
You fixed yourself, checking your eyeliner for just the perfect amount of smudge, and then you cracked open the door. The man was there, looking a little too well-dressed, and he sauntered into your apartment without saying so much as a hello.
“Uh, hi,” you spat.
“Hey, sorry,” he frowned, looking around for the charger under your clothes pile, “Can’t stay. Gonna meet up with the boys at Six Hands tonight.”
“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling a little more than just put out.
“Ah, here it is,” he dragged the charger out from under your desk and wrapped it up.
“I don’t wanna see you again,” you blurted out.
He looked up at you, noticing you for the first time, eyeing your dress and your makeup, furrowing his brow,
“Why not? Didn’t you have fun last night?”
You didn’t like his sly tone,
“No, so just, lose my number, okay?”
“C’mon, baby. Don’t be like that,” he stepped into your space and put your hair behind your ear. You fucking hated when guys tucked your hair behind your ear.
You smacked his hand away,
“Don’t touch me. Just go.”
“Is that why you’re dressed like a fuckin’ slut? You gonna call some other guy up here?” His contempt filled the room, making your alarm bells clatter and peal inside of your head.
“No. Leave! Now.”
“Listen,” he took another step into your space, dragging his finger under the strap of your dress and purposefully letting it fall off of your shoulder, “How about you drop the attitude and let me hit it before I go out, and I’ll come back tonight and we can watch a movie.”
You used both hands to shove him away from you, hating how little he moved backwards,
“Fuck you! Get out of my house.”
“You don’t have to be such a bitch!” He shouted at you, grabbing you around the wrist and knocking you off balance.
Then, all of a sudden, he stopped. His face became even paler than it already was, and he stared out of the window behind you. He scrambled to drop your wrist and bolted for the door, not even bothering to shut it behind him.
“Yeah! You shouted after him, fixing your shoulder strap, “Get the hell out and don’t come back!”
You shut the door and locked the top and bottom deadbolts, upset with yourself for how badly you were shaking.
“What an asshole,” you muttered under your breath as you turned around. Then, you looked up, and that’s when you saw him.
“Mr. Big?!”
The giant, hulking gargoyle that you sat by every night was standing, full height, right outside your window. He used his immense paw to open the window and stepped through it, staring right at you with unnaturally blue eyes. He was still not a human color, but at least he wasn’t made of stone. His flesh was textured, sort of scaled in a way, and hairline cracks that looked like scars covered him like a broken eggshell. His hair and beard were shaggy and brown, and even though he was enormous, he was graceful, tucking his black wings behind his back to keep from knocking over all of your shelves.
“Are you alright, love?” His voice came out like a roaring, tumbling sea, and yet, it was as gentle as a purr.
“I… This… You! You are! You’re… you’re a statue! How…” You backed away from him, and he did not pursue you. He simply stood there, focused on you, patiently letting you figure it out, “You’re Mr. Big, and you’re in my damn house!”
“I am John. We come when our mate calls to us.”
“What? John? No,” you sat on the bed, wrenching your eyes shut, “This isn’t happening. Fuck, I actually am out of my mind. I don’t have insurance. I can’t afford fucking gargoyle visions. Fuck!”
You heard the flutter of wings and your eyes darted up to see Mr. T and Mr. Bones squeezing themselves into your tiny home,
John nodded to them,
“This is Soap and Ghost. Your memories will return to you, my love,” he turned to address them, “Did you find him?”
Ghost let out a dark chuckle full of fire and brimstone,
“Aye, he screamed like a fuckin’ pussy.”
“Who?” You asked, already knowing the answer.
Soap answered you in a surprisingly smooth brogue,
“Your wee suitor, lass. Tried to run, but he couldnae get very far.”
“Did…” You felt your blood rush out of your body, “Did you kill him?”
Ghost, his skin a steely gray with black cracks running across his flesh, his wings a bony ash color and splotched with tears and scars, his eyes an impossible hazel shade, gleaming behind the huge skull mask, stalked over to you, crouching down to look at you closer, studying you. Then, he took his clawed hand and untucked the hair from behind your ear, lifting your locks to his fearsome muzzle to smell your shampoo. He smiled (you weren’t exactly sure if it was a smile or not), and said,
“Would you like me to? Because, right now, he’s hanging off the side of a fuckin’ tanker ship headed for the bloody south Pacific. He’d be easy to capture and –”
“No! No,” you shook your head, “Thank you. That’s… that is a great spot for him. Alive.”
“You must have questions, pet,” a fourth voice spoke over your shoulder, startling you and making you jump out of your skin, “Surely you must remember me; your Gaz, your favorite.”
It was Mr. Vain. The others gave him a glare for his comment, but he did have a way of stealing the show. His skin was a shimmering copper, and golden cracks cut through his flesh. His wings were an iridescent green patina, and his eyes were a deep brown. He was every bit as beautiful in real life as he’d been as a statue, and you had a hard time looking away from him.
“I’m…” You tried to ask something. Anything. You should have questions, right? Normal people would have questions. Finally, you whispered, “What is happening to me?”
John came to crouch beside you, his thick tail curling around his feet, tucking itself out of the way, and he dropped his voice into that deep purr of his,
“You called us here, love. You needed us, and we were awakened. We have listened to your struggles. For years we have kept you safe in this…” He looked around with a frown of disapproval, “... bloody meager estate, waiting for the night you would bring us back to this plane of existence to mate with you and take you home to claim your rightful place on the throne of Evenhold. Your people need you. We need you. You are the last hope for our kind.”
You listened to him and tried your best to keep a straight face,
“You have got to be fucking with me right now. This is not real. You are not real!”
To your shock, instead of doubling down, he looked hurt by your comments. His eyes peered down at you as if he wanted to make you see the truth, like he wanted to convince you of his words, but he held himself back.
Soap came over to you, his pale flesh gleaming like a pearl under the moonlight, the cracks of his skin a cerulean blue, and his wings fading from navy to black at the very tips,
“Bonnie, I ken how it sounds. But, you didnae meet your mother nor your father, aye?”
“No, I grew up with my Grandma Val–”
“Valeria, the Witch of the Four Winds,” Soap confirmed, sitting down beside Ghost, “She protected you until her death. So, you came here, to this city, and –”
“And this apartment… the deal was so good, I couldn’t pass it up,” your brain was reaching around in the dark, looking for the light. It was making your head spin.
“Did you never wonder how you could afford it, lass? Didnae you remember Darkhollow? The River Binn? Everhold Keep? We ran together as rooks through the halls, stealing burchfruit from the ta–”
John cut him off, his eyes studying you in the darkness,
“Enough. Sorcerer Cael stole her memories the same night he fuckin’ murdered the Emperor and the Empress. She knows nothing of home. But, we can help her remember.”
You reached out to him, touching his cheek in such a familiar way, and yet, experiencing it anew,
“How?”
“We will take you as our mate. Through our magic, you can use our memories to rebuild what you’ve lost,” John cupped your hand in his huge paw, bringing it to his fanged mouth, and kissing your palm reverently.
“We know that you have been…” Gaz smirked, “... disappointed by suitors in this realm. But, we will help you remember the kind of mate the Empress of Evenhold deserves.”
“Trust us, lass,” Soap lifted your chin up to look into your face, “We will set things right. We’ll take you home.”
Ghost crawled beside you on the bed, and the mattress dipped beneath his heavy frame,
“You are our guiding star, love. We’ll do whatever you ask of us. If you want us to leave, we fuckin’ will. Just say the word, and you’ll never see us again.”
At his oath, you felt something twist in your heart. No! That was wrong. You belonged together. These were your protectors. You needed them as much as they needed you.
“No. You belong with me,” you said, planting a soft kiss on the side of Ghost’s mask, “Help me remember.”
“We won’t be back here, love. Are you sure you’re ready to go?” John asked you, standing at full height.
The others stood with him, waiting for your word.
You thought about checking your phone, or putting an away message up on your profiles, but what would be the reason? If you wouldn’t be back here, you’d just disappear. You’d fade away from memory just like any other streamer who logged on for the last time and never came back. It happened all the time. Your parents were dead, you didn’t have any family, and your friend would be okay without you. What was keeping you here?
“Let me wash my face, and then we’ll go,” you said, ducking into the bathroom to braid your hair out of your face and wash the eyeliner off of your eyes. You looked at yourself in the mirror, and for the first time in a long while, you enjoyed looking at the person that you saw. You looked brave. You looked ready. You looked like you were about to have the ride of your fuckin’ life.
You slid an extra hair tie around your wrist and met the gargoyle army in your bedroom.
“Okay, I’m ready for the magic mating ritual, I think. Do you wanna do it here, or…”
“No, love,” John chuckled warmly, “We’ll take you to the portal. Your power will ignite the beacon.”
“Where is that?” You asked, feeling a little deflated.
“Far from here. C’mon, love. Need to beat the sun,” John grabbed your waist and held you against his chest. He wrapped his tail around your body protectively, and you watched in horror as the other three dove through the window, spreading their wings out over the midnight fog.
“Oh, fuck. Are we flying there? Holy shit! Wait, wait, wait…”
The next thing you knew, you were sailing through the air, gliding down from your bedroom window and out into the night sky.
“It’s alright, love. Hold onto me,” John chuckled, amused by your panicked response.
“Fuck!” You whispered, burying yourself in John’s broad chest, clutching at his waist as hard as you could.
You could feel the powerful beat of his wings as he gained altitude, the rush of wind subsiding when you emerged above the clouds, and the moon looked as if it hung close enough for you to grab it, bright and glowing in the black sky.
You were breathing in rushed gasps, and you didn’t know if you should laugh or cry. John sensed your distress, and he held you tighter against his warm body.
“Shh,” he pet you gently, and you felt his claws trace delicate lines down your back. For some reason, it lulled you into a dazed state, and you thought you might pass out, “Sleep, pretty girl. I’ve got you.”
A few more minutes went by, and with each delicate pass of his claws, you watched the stars scatter above you, more and more of them coming into your view as you escaped from the city, and you closed your eyes and let your guardian take you away with him.
When you awoke, you were still flying with John, but you were descending on a small hilltop.
“Where are we?” You asked in a low voice.
John pointed below,
“The portal is here. I’ve sent the lads on ahead to prepare the ritual. We won’t beat the dawn unless we hurry.”
“What happens at dawn?”
“We turn to stone. You’ll be left unprotected.”
“Is that what these are?” You asked, tracing the cracked lines in his skin, “From where you broke free?”
“Yes,” John nodded, “We wear them with fuckin’ pride, love. We’re soldiers. It is our duty and our right to be your guardians.”
“In the… At home, do you turn to stone in the sunlight?”
He paused, and you wished you could hear his thoughts, but after a few moments he said,
“No, only here.”
Something about his answer saddened you. You wanted to wipe all of that pain away from his face. You needed to see him in the light of day. To see him happy. You felt so strongly about it, and it made you wish that you had called for him sooner.
“Could you hear me when you were frozen?”
“Yes, love,” he smiled, swooping his wings to land with you on the soft grass, “Every word.”
He placed you down carefully, and as he did, he bent forward, wrapped his wings around you, and kissed you. You leaned into his touch, enveloped in his dark embrace, feeling the bristle of his beard and the fullness of his lips. He tasted like holiday spices and raw honey. His sweetness and heat blending together on your tongue and making you dizzy with want.
“Tryin’ to get a head start, Captain?” Gaz’s voice rang out over your shoulder.
You were unfurled from John’s wings and released from his kiss, but he kept a possessive hand around your waist.
“Captain?” You turned to ask him what that meant.
“We’re soldiers, remember? I’m the Captain of the Imperial Guard. My two sergeants,” he pointed to Gaz and Soap, “and my lieutenant,” he nodded to Ghost.
“C’mere, love,” Ghost pulled you away from John and brought you over to the entrance of a large cave.
The mouth of the cave was hidden behind vines and overgrowth, but you could barely make out the ancient carvings that were etched into the side of the round entrance.
“This is the portal, lass. Your magic opens the door, and we can go home.”
“I don’t know how to do magic,” you looked at him for help.
“We’ll show you. Let us help you remember, love,” John purred darkly behind you, joining you on the side opposite Ghost, taking your hand and guiding you into the cave.
Once inside, you saw a large, flat altar, carved with runes and symbols, and all along the back wall of the cave were huge scenes of war and destruction, patterned in gold and silver and bronze etchings. In the images, you saw hordes of gargoyles fighting against an evil wizard who carried a long staff and cast fiery spells across villages and castles, destroying everything in his path.
But, you couldn’t dwell on the images for long. Your warriors had other plans. John guided you to his arms once more, kissing you chastely this time, before untying his loincloth and revealing his unbelievable cock.
When he saw the look on your face, his mouth stretched into a smug grin, and he pumped his wings, proudly beating them once and then twice to stir the air in the large cave, purring deep inside his chest.
His dick wasn’t just large. It was impossible. There was no way that thing was going to fit inside of you without some sort of feat of strength. As the others disrobed, standing beside their leader, you saw how much of a challenge this venture truly was.
Their cockheads were covered in layers of foreskin that lay across their head like the petals of a flower. They were thin and smooth, and it made the tip of their dick look like the head of a blooming rose. John had more petals than the others, while Gaz had only three or four, but his were large, like a drooping magnolia, hiding the fist-sized glans underneath.
The shaft of John’s cock was studded with smooth, marble-like protrusions, which, as he rubbed his hand over them, swelled and leaked, producing his own lubricant for him as he worked his phallus to a high, glossy shine. On the underside of the body, two soft bands of flesh hung down like lips on a mouth, creating a flared feature along the base of his cock.
At the root of his shaft, John had a bulging, pulsing knot. It looked like it was throbbing with its own heartbeat, and it wrapped itself around his entire girthy base, making your mouth water.
Their physiology was as unique as it was inhuman. Gaz only had three marble protrusions, none of the soft bands on his undercarriage, but a hefty, engorged knot. Ghost’s cock was board-straight, covered in a chaotic mess of marble bumps, making his whole prick drip and drool onto the cave floor without him even needing to touch it.
Soap was the only one who had pulled his petals down over his blunt cockhead to reveal it to you. It was bright pink and swollen, looking every bit like a smooth, silky peach. The large slit in the center held a bead of precome, ready to be smeared across either of your lips. His shaft was curved like a bow, and you noticed that the flared flesh at his base looked like a plush bed of fox coral, bending and furling like fine lace on the hem of a dress.
“Our mate is pleased,” Gaz noted, sniffing the air and licking his fangs with a skillful tongue.
You made your way over to John, eyeing Gaz as he tugged on his giant ballsack, fondling his heavy pearls and comforting himself as he admired you. John was breathing hard, his belly filling with air, his rolling purr growing louder as you got closer to him.
You knelt on the soft dirt floor of the cave and began to lick and suck at the knot on the base of John’s cock. He growled, flapping his wings with excitement,
“No, love,” he peered down at you, “Let us care for you.”
“I want to taste you,” you looked at the other beasts circling around you, casting long shadows over you with the shuddering wings, “All of you.”
“Your wish is our command, Empress,” Ghost snarled, fisting his cock in his claws and presenting it to you like a treat.
You used both of your hands to rub his shaft, letting his silky lube collect in your palms and drip down your wrists. You began prying his soft petals apart with the tip of your tongue, discovering how sensitive they were. By the time you found his head, he was drooling wet for you, filling the center of his flower with clear, shining precome. You drank from him, sucking the sticky fluid like nectar from a buttercup, sighing when you found it sweet.
John chuffed, impatient with his lieutenant for cutting the line, and you looked up at him and smiled, showing him your tongue as it dripped with Ghost’s wet promises. Then, you brought your attention back to your biggest guardian, taking care to use both hands to roll the flesh of his shaft up and down the hefty appendage. You let your thumb dip into his furled folds that ran along his base, and he hissed, instinctively using his paw to cradle the back of your head and encourage you further.
You obeyed his silent command, using your lips to kiss inside of his crown of closed petals, slurping and drinking the sweet gift you discovered inside. As you kissed his cockhead, the fleshy flower surrounding his tip tickled your lips and nose and chin, spreading their honey over your whole face, coating you in him and his heady scent.
Gaz reached down to touch your breast inside your dress, his huge claws tickling over the smoothness of your skin, making you gasp.
“So fuckin’ bonnie, innit she?” Soap admired you, taking position on the other side to fondle and feel your other heavy teat, using his claws to draw aching spirals all the way up to your nipple.
You were fully suckling on John’s wide head, now. He was pouring clear, shining precome down your throat, and you were swallowing it into your belly as if it were his come. Then, Gaz took you from him, guiding your chin over to his hanging prick, smiling at you as you nuzzled it, handsfree, into your lips. His wide petals covered most of your face, spreading his slick over your cheeks and down your throat, sticking themselves to your skin. Then, Johnny took your hand and held it in his own, making you rub his curved length until he was trembling for you. You took turns sucking from them both, realizing that the more you sucked, the more delicious fluid they made.
John petted your hair lovingly, drawing your attention away from his soldiers and back to him. You looked into his glowing blue eyes, mesmerized by his magic, and gave him your best doe-eyed face, hoping your hunter would take his shot.
“The sun is nearly here, Empress. There will be plenty of nights to play together ahead of us, but we must open the portal.”
You rose to your feet, shocked by how small you were compared to the monsters that surrounded you, and let John lead you to the altar. He lifted you up and knelt down in front of you, using his long, blue tongue to lick his way up the side of your thigh. When he found your heat, his chest shook with a stifled roar, and he grabbed your hips in his paws to crush you to his face. Ghost stood beside him, peeling off your black slip dress to make you naked, and he and Gaz held your legs wide for their captain. Soap crawled upon the altar to feed his tongue into your mouth, fucking your throat in long, gentle licks just as John stuffed his into your warm pussy.
Ghost and Gaz suckled from your breasts, pulling and plucking at your nipples in deep, vacuumed mouthfuls, making you feel like you were being eaten alive from the inside and the outside of your whole body. Your orgasm hit your body before your mind registered that you were coming. You jerked, arching your back and screaming out from the base of your throat, begging for mercy.
Your gargoyles pet you with their claws in that same, somnolent way that John had while you were flying, and you felt yourself relax into your orgasm, riding it out in long, suffocating waves.
“You are so tight, love,” John looked up from his eating, his eyes full of worry, “We’ll try to be gentle with you, but you will need many nights of training before you can carry our rooks. Your body will learn from us, in time. For now, your memories are all that matter.”
He stood, and the other gargoyles held you tightly, supporting you on the altar. John huffed out a long breath, spread his wings wide, and stepped forward to mount you.
You watched his cock’s petals as they collided with your own, spreading himself all over you like a brush full of paint. He focused on your hole, smearing his hot precome as generously as he could. Then, he began to press forward.
“Holy fuck! I can’t take it! I can’t… John… it’s not… mngh! Ohhhh…” You cried out in agony and then melted into a quiet bliss.
As he entered you, the other three pet you with their paws, soothing you and helping you catch your breath.
Then, when you took his entire head, he rested at your entrance, waiting for you to come back around.
“John, what the fuck? I’m not built for your dick. How…?” You looked up at him, pleading for some relief.
“You’re doing so good for us, love,” Gaz licked and kissed your neck and breast, suckling on you to calm you down.
“You can take him,” Ghost held your hand, “His musk will open you up for us. Look at how it’s swelling your pussy, sweetheart.”
You looked down at yourself, and you saw that Ghost was right. Your pussy was creamy and puffy, soaking in John’s fluids, his musk, and it was helping you relax for him. John stepped forward, slipping in another inch or so, fitting his bent petals through your entrance. Then, with each grueling thrust, you felt the line of marble nodes press against your walls, secreting their lubricant all over your walls and making you drip onto the altar.
“So good for me,” John groaned, holding your breasts in his hands, stealing them away from Gaz and Soap, squeezing them hard enough to leave pinprick marks with his talons.
“Anhh– John! I’m…”
“Yes, come again, love. Come for me, remember me…”
Your mind was flung through space and time, spinning and feeding you a chaotic string of memories that didn’t seem like your own. You tasted food and drink you’d never tried, you sang songs you didn’t know, ran full speed across fields full of flowers you’d never smelled. It was maddening, watching you live a life you’d never had. Then, there they were, your four gargoyles, pledging their loyalty to you and your parents, vowing to be your protectors. But, just as your heart filled with hope, there was a great black fire that roared through the halls of your keep, burning the people you loved, destroying the peace in your realm. The Dark Sorcerer, Cael.
John was pounding away at your body now, and you were shivering from the heightened pleasure. How long had you been out? Your belly felt full of him, and you could see the outline of his shaft as he shoved himself through you, fucking you nearly up into your ribs. You reached down and cradled him outside of your belly, and he moaned from your touch, his heavy balls slapping against your ass in a punishing, deafening rhythm.
Then, you saw John beat his wings again, fighting with his own pleasure. He speared you fully, sealing himself inside of you, and it was at that point that you felt the curling, pulsing pressure of his knot.
“John… I’m not… I can’t…” You could barely keep your eyes open.
He gathered you up in his arms, wrapping you tight to his chest, and hugged you to his scalding, scaled flesh. When he breathed against you, his chest filled your space, and you could feel the tremors racking his body. He folded his wings around you, enclosing you in his protective embrace, hiding you in his darkness, and lowered you with his steady, inhuman power onto his throbbing knot.
Your scream was silent as your breath caught in your throat. You’d been shattered, thrown with supernatural might into a bursting orgasm, forced to come hard onto his swollen, beating shaft.
He was coming, too, and it filled your walls, making your belly hang heavy with fertile, gargoyle seed. John roared, thrusting himself up into you to grind his knot within your hole, churning his cream within you, and soaking your womb in his come.
John sighed, bending his neck to kiss your open mouth, petting you with his paws, rubbing his cock through your abdomen with his thumbs. His come moved inside of you as he did so, and you were so stuffed with his hot spend, the moment he began to unseal himself, it sprayed out of you and onto his cock, legs, and the floor of the chamber, turning the dirt to mud. You were gaping wide, dripping in his come, and trembling from brain-breaking orgasms. He didn’t look much better. He was spent, sitting on the ground of the cave, breathing hard and fast.
But, you couldn’t think about aftercare. Ghost took his place as soon as it was available, stepping through the muddy, semen-soaked floor without so much as a second glance. His dick was covered in his musk and he used it to rub it all over your clit, arching his back to paint your nipples with it as well, painting long lines of his scent all over your chest, belly, and legs. Satisfied, he notched himself at your entrance and spread your walls wide again, guiding himself deep inside of you.
You hissed in sweet agony, and he smiled down at you knowingly,
“You’re taking me so well. My tight little quim. So perfect. How I missed you, lover.”
John was standing again, and he came to help Ghost hold you in place as he pounded himself into you with long, agonizing strokes. You were glad he was there because your whole body was limp. You hung off the side of the pedestal like a ragdoll, letting Ghost rail himself into you, his studded shaft rolling orgasm after orgasm through your nerves, forcing you to come one after the other, just an endless parade of pleasure. Your mouth was open, and Gaz was suckling on your lips and tongue while Soap devoured your breasts, pinching and biting and slurping to his heart’s content.
John put his paw on your belly, feeling how Simon was protruding out of your flesh, heavy and built to last, His knot smaller but harder than John’s.
“Remember, love. C’mon, try to reach deeper,” you keened, feeling hot tears rush out of your eyes and down your cheeks as Gaz devoured your tongue. Then, you were transported again, back to your dear Evenhold. You were locked in a battle, controlling your magic and trying to crack a portal. You didn’t have a clear destination, but you found one all the same. Finally, your opponent, Cael, made a misstep. He tried to cast a sealing spell on you, but you deflected it, casting it on your devoted warriors instead, watching them tumble into the portal, wrought in dark stone. You felt yourself scream, and you killed the sorcerer, leaping into the portal to save the heroes you loved.
But, something had gone wrong. Time, fickle and flowing, warped itself, wrapping around your magic and flinging you back through time. You were a child again, and you were alone.
The look of despair on your face told Ghost everything he needed to know,
“She remembers. It’s working. Fuck! Take all of me, love. Come back to us!”
He slammed his knot inside of you and stretched his wings out wide and straight, his whole body vibrating with his energy, the enormous cock inside your core jerked and drooled come all over your walls, drowning itself in your tight, swollen hole.
When he popped his knot out of you, he held it to your pussy like a gate, encouraging the come he’d left behind to settle in your belly instead of spilling onto the ground. It worked poorly; there was just too much of it, but you felt fuller than before, and you knew your womb was carrying their seed deep within you.
“Hurry, Soap,” John stretched his claws, showing his discomfort, “Dawn.”
Soap took his place between your legs and struggled with his tip. You were pliant and soft for him, but it still wasn’t enough.
“Turn her,” he grunted, and your protectors followed his command, flipping your body over so that you could be on all fours for him.
He spread his musk over your hole, using his paws and cock in unison, trying his best to prepare you for his cock’s sinister curve, but it was no use.
“Just… take me, Soap. Please… I need to know…” You whined, just under your breath, preparing yourself for the ache of being stretched by him.
“Bonnie, I willnae hurt you. Give me a moment t–”
“Now,” you insisted, spreading yourself wide for him, “It has to be now.”
He sighed, and he put his wings around you instinctively, wanting to protect you from the pain and not knowing how. Soap slipped forward, and his cockhead caught in your inner ring of muscles, stuck, oozing its precome into your hole. He was afraid to press forward, unwilling to injure his mate, fearful of what he might do to you.
So, you fucked him. You leaned back, pressing your cunt down onto his tip, feeling every hard inch as you did so, prying yourself open like a stone fruit, using his prick to cleave your body. Thankfully, he was not as thick as John nor as long as Ghost, but he was a challenge for the entire ride. Every single thrust felt like a damn marathon, and he was shaped in such a way that your delicate g-spot was bullied into a wet, body-shaking submission.
You never stopped coming on Soap, but you didn’t remember starting either. He erased your mind and filled it with him, only him, and you slipped into his memories as easily as a warm bath, letting him drown you in his slick affection.
You saw yourself as a child, running through the keep, chasing Soap, a mischievous rook, letting him fly you onto the feast table to steal fruits and berries from the bowls, screeching as the cooks chased you from them, laughing and tumbling and rolling into the garden where you shared them together, ripping off ripe, sweet lobes, and fighting over the last bites.
Then, he was a young man. Younger than he was now, but every bit as handsome. None of his blue cracks were there to mar his pearlescent skin, and you marveled at his beauty. He flew with you to your secret spot, high in the white, chalk cliffs of Evenhold, overlooking the sea. He said nothing, but you understood everything in that moment.
The crash of the waves mimicked his rough fucking, and the lightning strike of another pleasure-filled crescendo slammed you back to the present, letting you watch him groan and stretch and fly with your body, pulling you from the altar into the air, clutching you around your throat and belly with his long tail in a deep embrace, trapping you on his knot and using his hands to milk himself into you, squeezing his root like a summer fruit, giving you every last drop.
His wings faltered, and his body went limp, and he lay you on the altar as gently as he could before collapsing on the ground of the cave, eyes shut and trembling.
Gaz mounted you, grabbing your hips and dragging you toward him. You looked down as he held your legs open, using his tail to protect your head from the rough platform. Then, he slipped into you with a gentleness you were not expecting due to his size. You thought you had finally been stretched to the point of comfort, worried about the state of yourself, but it was just an illusion. Once he impaled you past his enormous head, the petals folded back and his fat prick began to struggle within you. But, unlike Soap, he did not hold himself back. He knew you were close to the answer, and he needed to give it to you.
You both stared down at your swollen belly, full of come and beginning to fill with his shape. Gaz took your hand and placed it just above your womb, and moaned, grunting at you,
“Hold me here, love. Feel me… here…”
You tried to obey, but doing so made all of the sensations inside of you that much more intense. You could feel every petal, every ridge, every slippery marble node, the furl of his flesh and the impossibly thick length of his phallus, all of it working inside of you, right below your palm.
“Press…” He begged, his brown eyes soft and pleading.
So, you did, and you made yourself start to come. It was too beautiful of a feeling. You could sense every twitch and pulse and slip of his cock inside of you, feeling it with your walls as if you would your hands, squeezing him within you like a hilt to its blade, wielding him like a weapon.
You tipped over the edge, falling into another dream, but this time, it was a place you recognized. You were with Valeria, young again, just a child, and you watched her close the portal, making the runes with her hands, and sealing off the world of Darmoch, Evenhold, and everything you’d ever known.
Then, she cast a spell over your guardians, releasing them from their stone prisons, but at a price. Their skin splintered and cracked, and the stone cut awful shapes in their flesh, burning them with permanent scars. You wanted to help them, but you were slowly forgetting their faces. Things were fading away, and Valeria was the only one who knew how to help you.
You opened your eyes, clutching Gaz’s long dick within you in both of your hands, massaging him with deep affection and adoration. You looked up at him and said,
“I remember everything.”
He smiled, leaning forward to kiss your mouth, nuzzling your nose with his own snout, minding his tusks and groaning for you,
“Mmm, of course you do, my love. I knew you would.”
Gaz took a sharp breath and rolled his knot into you, emptying himself inside like the others, making you warm, full, and knowing the most perfect love. It was written all over your soul, your promise to them, their vow to you, the ancient oath to protect you and to follow your command until the end of days.
When he pulled away, stumbling back and catching himself on the cave wall, you knew your destiny. You rose to your feet, ignoring the aches of your humanity, casting aside your doubt. You pulled your guardians close to you, putting their hands on your arms and shoulders, and just as the pink dawn began to crest over the horizon, you said,
“Hold on to me. We’re going home.”
Don't look at me like that. Y'all knew I was out of my mind before you even started reading this fic. C'mon, now.
post cibum - "after a meal" - Kinktober Masterlist
TF141 x f!reader
Kinks > wet/messy, food play, objectification
Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.
Your new job as a professional nyotaimori model pays all the bills and then some, but tonight, you are serving a group of soldiers who want more than just the novelty of eating fancy sushi rolls off of a naked woman. After they’ve had their fill of the nigiri and the rolls, they want you for dessert.
“That’s fine, sir. We can do a seven o’clock tonight. Have you had a chance to choose your selections from the menu?”
You strained your ears as you listened to your maître d' consult with a customer over the phone. You were prepping in the adjoining room, going through your normal routine, but the growling, Manchester accent coming through the speaker was making it difficult to focus.
“Yeah, give us a full spread. The works. No barriers.”
It must be a big party, you thought. The full spread option included a large array of sushi and sashimi. Asking for no barriers was quite adventurous, and you felt your skin flush with excitement.
“Yes, sir. And would you like your artist bound or unbound?”
“Mm,” he thought for a minute, and you tried to send telepathic messages to the gruff stranger, “Let’s have ‘er tied down.”
Yes, you celebrated, already imagining the feel of the ropes crossing over the big, wooden table and pinning you to it, forcing you to stay in place all night long.
“And will you be including the sake option?”
“Yeah, sure. Johnny’s a bloody lush.”
Your heart began to race just imagining what sort of night you were in for. The sake option meant needing to shave your sensitive pussy completely bare, so you added that step to your process. Being a food model wasn’t something anyone seemed to take seriously, but you felt like a true artist, and you wanted your guests to have an unforgettable experience when they came to dine with you… on you.
“Alright, sir, that’s –”
“And we want the additional package. I’ll pay extra. Whatever it costs. Just put it on the tab.”
“Yes, sir. Would you like A, B, or C?”
The additional package? How did he know about that? You’d never performed for this man before – you would not have been able to forget that voice – and only your regulars knew about your secret options.
“A and B, but keep her mouth open, yeah? In case she gets hungry…”
His dark laugh made your blood burn in your veins. Your add-on package meant that he wanted to fill your holes while you lay on the table for him. Option A was for a large glass dildo in your pussy, warmed and heavy, option B was for a bulbous anal plug made of the same body-safe glass, and option C was for a rubber ball-gag in your mouth. But, he wanted to have access to you there, and that made you almost see stars when you thought about the implications. What did your mystery Manc have planned for you?
“Yes, sir. Do you know how many will be in your party tonight?”
“Four. The one with the mohawk is the birthday boy.”
“Thank you, sir. I will add that to the notes. Any allergies?”
“No.”
“And the name for the party?”
“Riley.”
“Thank you. See you later.”
When she hung up the phone, you listened to her boots clack against the marble floor as she came into your dressing room,
“Hey babes, here’s your ticket for tonight. Table of four. Bunch of soldiers. Sure you’re up for it?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, not feeling as confident as you sounded, “Just make sure to keep their drinks coming. They tip more when they’re drunk.”
You winked at her and she laughed, closing the door behind her to let you finish grooming and cleansing your body.
Each swipe of your razor was another tantalizing part of your ritual. Once you were fully shaved, you cleaned your skin with special antibacterial soap before applying neutral oils that wouldn’t affect the taste of the food. No perfume, no deodorant. Those were the standards. You weren’t allowed to talk, or to move if you were bound by the tight ropes that pinned you to the table, and you were simply there to be a beautiful platter for the immaculately-made sushi.
At more traditional restaurants, your position was revered, and guests were forbidden from interacting with you directly. You’d worked at a number of venues that hosted nyotaimori events, all with varying levels of standards and rules, but this one paid the most. This place allowed their guests to do almost anything they wanted, and those high risk situations added to the excitement and to your bank account. However, you’d never felt safer. There were cameras, guards, and highly trained staff all over the premises, and if you ever needed to press your emergency button, you could do so. You wore your panic ring at all times, and you’d used it effectively once or twice; it worked like a dream.
But, you had to admit, it wasn’t just the money that kept you coming back here. You liked the clients. You liked feeling their hands and mouths eating off of your warm body. You enjoyed the more adventurous customers who wanted to taste you and touch you after they were done with their food. It was exhilarating, and you loved being at their mercy.
Just before your call time, your attendant brought you your glass dildo and anal plug from the back. They had been sanitized, and you used a little lube to insert the familiar, rigid shape into your pussy. You felt yourself already wet from anticipation, and although the glass phallus was thick and heavy, you took it with a satisfying ease.
The anal plug was another story. You used much more lube and began to play with your hole with your fingers before you committed to pressing it through your tight rim. The pressure from the fat dildo in your cunt made it even harder to accept, but after a few deep breaths, you felt your body relax and allow the round bulb to sit inside of your ass, pushing against all of the sensitive nerve endings inside of your stretched hole.
You washed your hands thoroughly and cleansed your skin again, just to be sure. Eventually, you finished with your prep and walked through the hallways to lay on your long black table. It was a chabudai, a short table where guests would sit on mats on the floor, and the dining room where you served was dimly lit, very minimally decorated, and had instrumental music playing softly through the speakers. You looked up into the corner and saw the camera light go from red to green. It was showtime.
Your attendant returned to perform your shibari. You were laying on your back, and she tied your wrists to your thighs, making sure to position your thumb so that you could press your panic ring easily. Then, she began to lay the ropes over your ribs, framing your breasts, using the ties to make them stand perky and proud on your chest. Finally, she fed the bindings under the table and fastened them down. You were stuck. You could bend your knees and twist your body, but that was about it.
“All good, ma’am?” She asked.
You nodded,
“Yes, thank you. All good.”
“Alright. I’ll tell chef.”
She left you alone, and you tried your best to focus on your breathing. The dildo was nudging a very sensitive spot inside of you, and you pulsed against it, attempting to find some relief. But, you were just making it worse. Your clenching muscles were allowing it to thrust against you, and no amount of wiggling was going to grant you any reprieve. So, you stopped. You shut off your mind as much as you could, listening to the music and imagining an infinite, empty expanse in your head.
The door clicked open and the sushi chef came in with his two other servers. They set to work, laying slabs of salmon and octopus sashimi across your breasts in a spiral pattern, using delicate roe to dust the inner circle over your hard nipples, making it look like the pollen-covered pistil of a flower, the fish serving as your beautiful petals.
A row of maki trailed their way down your belly and each arm. More sashimi were laid on all the places where a roll wouldn’t sit, and one of the chef’s assistants began to place thinly-sliced mango across your neck like a choker. Your legs were covered in sushi and more fruit, and finally, right in the join of your legs, you balanced a bowl with a single lotus flower inside.
The door cracked again, and your attendant poked her head in,
“Chef, your party is here. Should we send them in?”
The chef nodded, and everyone left the room. But, this time, the silence was deafening rather than zen. Your heart was pounding. You couldn’t wait to see and hear and feel what these four guests had in store for you.
Finally, the door opened, and you heard their jovial laughter and talking.
“Cannae believe you got a reservation, LT! Been dyin’ to try this for the longest.”
“I know, Johnny,” you recognized that deep, Manchester accent, “Won’t shut up about it.”
Johnny finally came into view. He peered down at you with a uniquely boyish wonder, staring at your face and your body like a kid at Christmas, eager to unwrap his presents. His friends surrounded him on both sides. You guessed that the wry blond was Simon, your vocal crush. You didn’t know the other two, but they were just as nice to look at. One of them was enormous, over-muscled with a bit of a belly, and an odd beard. The other was like a professional athlete, chiseled and masculine, with big brown eyes and dark, smooth skin.
“Sure is a pretty plate, huh, lads?” The beard spoke with a growling, gravely Scouse accent. He was a smoker, that was for sure.
“Fittest table I’ve ever seen,” the athlete smiled, his full lips revealing sharp, blinding teeth.
“Please, have a seat, gentlemen,” your attendant put on her best sexy customer-service voice, “First round is on the house.”
“Oh, shit,” Johnny laughed.
He and his friends ordered an absurd amount of alcohol, and then you were left alone with your party.
“Think we can get started?” Johnny asked, “Is that alright with you, bonnie?”
You watched out of the corner of your eye as the bearded one hit him lazily on the arm with the back of his hand,
“She isn’t supposed to speak, MacTavish. Didn’t you fuckin’ listen, or is all the blood that’s meant to be in your brain stuck in your prick?”
“Here, Captain,” the athlete called the bearded one over, “Try this.”
You felt the soft wood of your restaurant’s polished chopsticks graze the side of your breast as he lifted a slab of salmon off of your skin.
The captain grabbed the fish with his fingers clumsily, but he slurped it down, groaning with pleasure,
“Mm, that’s not bad, Gaz.”
Johnny reached out to you, his hands steady and sure,
“Lemme try…”
You felt his warm thumb graze over the top of your nipple, pushing some of the fresh roe onto a cut of octopus, and as he curled the fish, he let it drag over the same spot he touched, purposefully teasing you.
Once they started, they didn’t want to stop. Their hands were roaming all over you, picking up food and feasting on what you had to offer.
“Look here,” Gaz commented, letting his fingers swipe up the side of your ribs, gathering up dark sauce and licking it off of his knuckle.
“Oh, tha’ looks tasty,” Johnny smiled, leaning his head down and using his tongue to lick up the rest of the flavor, taking great pains to get as close to the side of your breast as he dared.
They were getting braver, but you could tell they still weren’t sure what they were allowed to do.
Before long, your attendant was back, ready to get more drinks and appetizers for your men, and you listened to them politely dismiss her, too focused on their task at hand: uncovering you from your delicate morsels of sushi.
“Mm,” Simon grunted, “Not bad, hm?”
“It’s proper tasty,” the captain agreed.
“I’m so glad to hear you’re enjoying yourselves,” your attendant encouraged them, “Could I interest you in a sake presentation?”
“Wha’s tha?” Johnny asked with his mouth full, excited to know more.
“Your artist has more than one talent, gentlemen,” she smiled coyly down at you, kneeling beside the table, carefully removing the bowl from where it was so carefully perched on your pussy.
The whole room stood still as your smooth, oiled vulva was revealed. Your attendant leaned over you, pouring warm sake into the divot between your closed legs and your mons, filling the space with drink. She made sure the men were looking at her with rapt attention, and she bent to suck the alcohol from your body, her mouth sucking right below your clit, slurping up the delicious sake until it was almost gone.
“Creepin’ Jesus,” Johnny said under his breath, “Can I do one, lass?”
“Yes, sir,” she smiled, “Of course! You can do anything you like.”
“Anything…”
Johnny’s eyes watched as she filled the crevice between your legs again, letting the sparkling fluid pool and ripple against your skin. Then, when she was done with her pour, he bent to drink from you, putting his mouth exactly where hers had been, gulping and swallowing the sweet brew, his eyes fixed on your pretty pussy until you were empty. Then, he stole a lick, shoving his tongue between your lips to tease your clit, testing the limits of what was allowed, trying to find the boundary.
“I’ll leave the bottle, yes?” Your attendant asked, leaving it on the table without waiting for an answer.
“Thanks, love,” the captain smiled, watching his friend hovering over your wet quim as Johnny considered going back between your legs for seconds.
“Go on, then, Sergeant,” Simon encouraged him, “For what I fuckin’ paid, you better enjoy it.”
That was the only permission the mohawked birthday boy needed. He sank his hot mouth down onto your pussy and began to suckle at your clit like it was part of his meal. He laved his tongue inside of your swollen lips, licking you in rhythmic, rolling thrusts.
You tried your best to control your reactions, but there was only so much you could do to contain your pleasure. Gaz noticed when your eyes rolled back in your head, your lashes fluttering closed as you tried to breathe through the feeling.
“Delicious, aren’t ya, babe?”
He bent his head to your breast, feasting on the two pieces of sashimi that were left behind, using his tongue to pull them into his mouth. You could feel the warmth of his full lips on your skin as he ate from you, and every little touch was electrified by Johnny’s feast between your legs.
As Gaz chewed on his bite, he used his thick finger to scoop up the fresh roe that remained on the peak of your nipple. Then, he bent over you, smiling like a demon,
“Open up.”
You obeyed, and you melted into your submission. The hard, unflinching stare from those big brown eyes was enough to crush your will to dust. You felt your skin flush across your whole body as you surrendered to him, as if allowing him to control you made you even more sensitive to the touching, licking, kissing, and groping that was happening to you.
He slipped his finger past your lips, placing the roe carefully on your tongue. You felt the tiny eggs spill into your lips like beads. Just when you were about to swallow them, he grabbed your chin in his hand sharply, his face turning darkly serious,
“Hey, open, I said. There’s a good girl. Stick that pretty tongue out for me. Say ahh, pretty girl.”
You did as you were told, and to your shock, he bent his mouth over yours and spit into your throat. You could feel the bubbling drool pooling in your cheeks and sliding to the back of your tongue, but there was nothing you could do about it. His lips turned up into that same dirty smirk as he said,
“Swallow.”
You took the roe into your mouth and swallowed it along with his saliva, the salt of the fish eggs mixing with the salt and alcoholic tinge in his spit. He must’ve been drinking at the bar before his party sat down at your table because the herbal scent of gin was unmistakable.
He pet your cheek with the back of his hand, praising you with his touch, watching your face twist with pleasure as Johnny became almost uncontrollable between your legs. The mohawked man was sucking so hard on your clit that the slurping sounds from his mouth were filling the room.
Gaz bent to kiss you, and you kissed him back. The softness of his lips lulled you into an even deeper sub state, and you felt like you were melting. Suddenly, he forced his tongue into your mouth and wrapped a huge palm around your jaw, holding you in place as he began to slide his slippery muscle in and out of your cheeks. It was as if he was fucking your throat with his tongue, and your mind fed you an imaginary scene of how his cock might feel in its place.
When he pulled away, you felt Johnny stop his kisses as well, and your body writhed without your consent, desperate to feel them tasting you again.
“This is the best fuckin’ birthday I’ve ever had,” Johnny smiled, wiping a hand across his shining mouth.
The man who’d made the booking, Simon, sat beside his friend and pointed between your legs,
“Pour us one, Johnny.”
“Aye. Here ya go, lads. Slàinte mhath.”
You watched as he poured sake into the divot between your legs again, but he over-indulged. He began to pour it across your belly as well, letting it pool in your belly button and settle in the dip of your sternum.
The captain was the first to take a sip. He lapped at the pool of sake that splattered across your mons and lips like a hound, aiming to taste you more than he was the alcohol. Then, he followed Johnny’s trail, dragging his hot tongue along the swell of your tummy, aiming for the well of spirits in your belly button. He hovered over it when he found it, and as he leaned down to drink from you, you could feel the tickle of his mustache, making you squirm.
His filthy, gravelly chuckle made your blood run cold. It seemed that he enjoyed forcing your body to respond to his touch.
“Ticklish, love?” He returned to your lower belly, letting the bristles of his beard tease you until your breathing became ragged, your lungs trying to suck in, doing your best to pull away from him and yet not being able to escape.
Your tormentor shoved Gaz around the table so that he could tease your breast with his bearded mouth, and Gaz followed suit, both of them fighting for the puddle of sake between your breasts before suckling on your tight nipples. They had such different agendas. Where Gaz seemed to suck because he wanted to see you squirming from pleasure, the captain seemed hell-bent on keeping you from it.
You could feel him biting into your delicate flesh with his sharp teeth, causing just enough pain to pull you out of your relaxed, pleasure-induced haze. Then, when he could see your eyes flash with just a hint of apprehension, he would retreat, rewarding your responsiveness with a long, deep suck or hungry, flat licks with his tongue, a barely-there smile twisting across his cheeks as he did.
You felt something brush against your leg, and Simon was using a napkin from the table to wipe the rest of the food off of your legs, not giving a shit about the hundreds of pounds worth of sushi being gathered up in the cloth. Dinner, apparently, was over.
Your mind raced. This was far and beyond the bravest party you’d ever served before. They worked on you as a team, giving each other silent feedback, and when Simon finally bent to drink from between your legs, your mind was throbbing from the overstimulation.
You weren’t supposed to, but you began to let long, cracking moans escape from your throat. Anything you did to hold them back was just making them worse, and your voice only seemed to spur these men to double down on their efforts.
Simon did not eat you like Johnny did. His Scottish companion ate you out like you were the food, but the Manc was more like his captain. He wanted to see where your buttons were, and when he found them, he began to press them just like a lad playing with a shiny new toy.
His tongue found the body of your clit and swirled around it, avoiding the searing head, swollen and sensitive to the point of discomfort. Instead, he pushed the tip of his tongue just below it, lifting it up, making the hood stretch just enough to apply its pressure.
You bucked your hips, the sake that rested in your thighs sloshing out, ignored by your new master. He didn’t give you a smug grin like his bearded boss. In fact, you could barely tell what emotion he was feeling. It wasn’t until you met his gaze that you noticed the fire behind his eyes.
Only then did he begin to drink from you, emptying the alcohol from your body, letting his tongue venture down into the crevice of your thighs and licking between them as if they were your cunt. He had gone deep enough to feel the edge of your dildo, and when he found it, he turned to the others, getting their attention,
“Had them do something special for Johnny. Wanna see your surprise?”
Johnny had been busy sharing a nipple with Gaz, leaving hungry little hickies across your skin. But, when Simon called him over, he seemed all too eager to return between your legs.
“Aye,” he smiled rakishly, “Gonnae spoil me, Si.”
All four men shifted to the foot of the table, their eyes wide and focused on you like hyenas with a wounded gazelle, selfish and ready for their next taste of you.
Simon took your legs and lifted them up, bending your thighs at the hip, showing the others how two fat, glass dildos were shoved deep inside of your holes.
“Oh, bonnie…” Johnny reached forward, grabbing the dildo stuck in your pussy gently between his fingers and giving it just the slightest twist, “For me? Such a good lass, innit she?”
Simon reached down below Johnny’s hand and began to tug at the anal plug. The resistance was driving you mad. You tried to relax, but he was not waiting on you, and the pressure began to build and build until finally, your muscle relented and you felt the heavy bulb slip wetly out of your asshole, soaking in lube.
“Bloody hell,” Gaz murmured, not wasting any time, sticking a long finger into the gaping hole left behind by the plug, testing the stretch of your ass with his strong hands.
Simon pressed it back in, forcing Gaz away, slowly fucking the heavy toy back into you, letting it sink inside of your body with a sloppy pop, pushing on it just a little harder than he needed to so that it would feel like it was thrusting inside of you.
Then, Johnny did the same with the dildo in your swollen pussy. He didn’t pull it all the way out, choosing instead to fuck you with it, shoving it into your hole with wet, slicking sounds, marvelling at the sight.
You were so drunk from the pleasure that you hadn’t noticed their captain sneaking around to the head of the table. He startled you, grabbing you beneath your arms and yanking you and your ropes up, strong enough to move you even though you were tied down. He had pulled you far enough that your head hung off the edge, and you found yourself staring at his black slacks, amazed at the thickness of his thighs. Then, you watched him roll down his zipper, stroking his cock until it gleamed with his precome.
You felt his other hand supporting the back of your head, holding you at just the angle he wanted. Then, he purred his command to you,
“Let me in, pretty girl.”
You allowed your muscles to weaken, opening you mouth wide, unsure if you could pry your mouth open enough for his girth to fit inside of you. He chuckled in that same, devilish way, slapping his sticky head against your lips twice before feeding his head into your cheeks, settling at the back of your throat, letting you gag and cough around him all you wanted and doing fuck-all about it.
Between your legs, you felt the dildo slip out of your pussy, replaced with eager fingers and a tongue. Now that you had the captain’s thick cock to block your noises, you let yourself whine against him like a gag, moaning and crying out from the overwhelming feeling of being used.
“Oh, fuck. That’s it, lads,” he grunted, “Make her scream for me.”
Both of his hands were cradling your head as he fucked your throat, guiding his fat dick in and out of you like a piston. You breathed when you could, but it was only just enough, and you felt yourself going light-headed.
A mouth found your nipple again, and a hand rolled itself beside your clit, making frantic circles from above. Then, below your thighs, a round prodding cockhead pressed its way into your lubricated walls, making your dildo seem like nothing more than a thick finger or two. You were being well-stretched, and your body flooded your cunt with wetness to try and ease his way, doing everything it could to make it easier for whoever it was to fit his prick into your warm body.
He rested your ankles against his neck, and your bare feet scraped the side of his head. Buzzed hair. It was the birthday boy afterall.
“Mmmph, fuckin’ hell, bonnie. Too tight. Too goddamn tight. Fuck…”
As he pumped himself into you, his movements made free and fast by the lube and your dripping cunt, your whole body began to jerk across the table. These men weren’t just large; they were stronger than you could’ve ever imagined, and you felt like you were nothing more than a mere toy to them.
The fingers teasing your clit were sending your mind into a panicked orgasm, and your whole body convulsed as you let yourself tumble into the swirling madness of your bliss, your eyes wrenched shut and flashes of rainbow light dancing across them as you came violently.
Apparently, that was enough to send the captain over his edge because as you were trapped in the throes of your orgasm, he shoved himself all the way inside of you and began to pulse hot shots of his come into your belly. You were desperate for air, but there was nothing you could do. They were in control of you, and you were ashamed by how much you enjoyed being at their mercy.
“Ohhh, Cap’n. She loves tha’, dontcha, lass?”
“Knew she would,” the captain slipped out of your throat, smiling down at you as you gasped wetly for a breath, “Filthy little slag.”
You watched as he shifted to the side of you, his thighs leaving your line of sight, being immediately replaced by a pair of dark jeans. You knew it was Gaz when his wide thumb reached down to wipe the drool and come from your lips, lovingly cleaning up after his captain’s mess.
“Being so good for us. Still hungry, baby?”
You couldn’t answer him, but he didn’t care. He tugged his long, curved rod out of his pants and let his balls rest on your mouth. You started to suckle on one of them, taking it into your mouth and letting it roll between your lips.
“Yeah, she is. Mmff-fuck, tha’s it.”
Gaz lifted your head up with his hand to help you reach, stroking his huge shaft with the other, jerking off as you did your best to pleasure him, trying to be careful with his sensitive sack.
Johnny’s thrusts became frantic. Simon and his captain were taking turns pouring sake across your belly and sucking it off of you, and you were dizzy from the feeling of being fucked with your heavy plug inside of you. When you began to come again, it hit you slowly, building and building in waves, making you tremble from the suffocating joy of it.
You cried out, and your mouth was open wide in a silent oh. Gaz took the chance to feed you his cockhead, giving you something to scream around. You felt Johnny pause deep inside of you, his cock nestled as close to your womb as he could get, and he began to fill you with his come, shamelessly bending himself over you to fit his rod down to its root in your wetness.
“Christ, bonnie! Come for me. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Hnngh…”
He slid himself out of you, but almost immediately, someone filled your empty hole with your dildo, keeping his load sealed safe inside.
Gaz was still jerking his cock as he rested his tip inside your mouth, and you could feel him shuddering above you, his fingers twisted and tugging at the base of your scalp.
“Suck on me harder. Yesss,” he groaned, “Just like that… mmfgh. Good… girl…”
You felt him throbbing, pulsing, and ready to come. Then, just when you were ready to taste him, he pulled out and painted your mouth, chin, and neck white with his seed. There was so much of it, and whatever your tongue could reach, you licked it up, sucking him clean when he let you have the tip one more time before he smeared the remnants of his dripping cream across your cheek.
Suddenly, Gaz’s hands returned to the back of your head and lifted it up. At the same time, another man yanked your whole body back down the table, making the wood creak from the stress. Now, you could see what was happening to you.
Simon was holding your thighs, playing with your pussy, making sure your dildo was nice and snug. Then, he removed your anal plug again, twisting it out with a steady tug. When you made a whimpering cry, he looked up at you, and you saw that same light in his gaze, a hunger unlike that of his other friends. Something uncanny and secret about his message that you failed to decode.
He began to pry open your asshole with his fingers, exploring just past the rim. First, it was just one, but then it was two. They twisted, curling inside of you, plunging deeper and deeper and testing how pliant you were. Your plug was pretty large, so you weren’t usually concerned about a man’s cock being a challenge. But, the way he was preparing your hole made your whole body tense with anticipation, worried about what was going to happen to you.
You watched him rest your heels on his shoulder, just like his friend had done, and his tattooed hand held your thighs as the other placed his swollen head at the rim of your asshole, teasing it, barely even touching you.
You thought he would plunge inside, but he never did. He just kept painting little warm circles around you, pressing on the outside yet never allowing himself to slip into your ass.
“Mngh…” You whined, twisting your hips as much as you could, begging for it.
“What’s that? Speak up, love. Can’t hear ya.”
You looked at him with pleading eyes, knowing you weren’t allowed to break your ceremonial rule but desperate just the same. He let himself smile softly down at you, planting his head at your hole and using the weight of his cock to rest it there.
“C’mon, sweetheart. Tell me you want it. It’ll be our little secret.”
His friends were kneeling around you, spent but still groping your body, licking and kissing you lazily, enjoying watching Simon torment you.
“She doesnae wanna break the rules, Si. Good lass tha’ she is,” Johnny cooed, letting his fingers rest on either side of your clit, drawing deep ovals and watching your face twist in desperation.
“Let him hear it, love. We won’t tell,” the captain whispered in your ear, using his fingers to slide Gaz’s come from your chin into your mouth, making you taste his salty seed. He kept his fingers inside of your lips, pushing them all the way to the back of your throat, letting you suck on them, “Tha’s right. Our perfect little slut.”
Your mind went blank, and all you could focus on was the feeling of relief that would come to you if you just broke your rule…
The captain removed his hand, returning to your tits to suck on them and pinch your nipples. Then, Simon pressed forward just a little more, giving you his head before immediately taking it away, leaving you hollow.
“... please…” You whispered, your voice so shallow and small.
“What? Cannae hear you, bonnie,” the Scot smiled, moving his hand faster between your pussy lips.
“I think I heard something, did you?” Gaz joked, raising his eyebrows at Simon, smacking your ass cheek with the palm of his hand.
“Say it,” Simon growled.
His team was all smiles, but he was dead on. You locked eyes with him and said it again.
“Please.”
“Fuck,” Simon’s eyes rolled back in his head, the whites peeking through his long lashes, and he sank himself deep into your asshole in one punishing thrust.
He was as thick as your plug, but he was so much longer, and you had never felt so stretched out in your whole life. As he began to fuck you, he wrapped his hand around the dildo in your pussy, covered in come and lube, and he fucked you in time with his own prick, making it seem like he was in both places at once.
“You ready for more?” Simon asked you breathlessly, checking in with you.
You nodded, fuck-drunk but just as submissive as ever. Whatever he asked for, you were ready to give it to him.
When he saw your shallow nods, he began to fuck you at an incredible pace. Your whole body was shuddering every time he slammed himself forward, and the strength of his thrusts was making you feel like his cock was even bigger than you thought, your poor asshole stretched past the point of comfort.
“She’s takin’ it so good, Si,” Johnny sighed, watching your face go slack as his friend railed himself into you.
You weren’t even moaning. You were barely breathing. Your mind only had one goal: making you come and come and come.
“Spread her legs,” Simon commanded his team.
You heard the schnick of a knife’s blade being unsheathed, and then the ropes around your ankles were sliced away. Gaz and Johnny pulled your knees up to your chest, forcing you open for him like a book.
Johnny bent down over your pussy and spat onto your slit, smearing it with his fingers. Then, he slapped you gently a few times, increasing the pain each time his hand came down until you were literally screaming from it. But, it didn’t hurt. It just made you come even harder. The pleasure was muting the pain to an incredible degree. You wanted him to give you more, but you were too far gone to ask.
The captain was kissing your mouth, using his hands to feed you come again, and you couldn’t even kiss him back. Your body was frozen, your muscles tight and stuck in a loop of pleasure. You were coming in cyclical waves, unsure of where one started or ended, just suspended in blissful torment, sucking in breaths when your lungs allowed you to.
Then, Simon’s movements stuttered, and he slowed, sinking into you as deep as he could fit before pulling out in one swift movement and jerking his cock right in front of your swollen, punished pussy.
He slid the dildo out of you, leaving you feeling empty to the point of grief, and you watched as he hovered at your entrance, shooting his load into your already-filled cunt. Rope after rope of milky come seared its way into you, messy but accurate. Then, he replaced the dildo and sat back on his heels, out of breath.
His friends let your legs back down, and they all moved away from you, leaving little kisses on your body as they retreated.
Once they recovered, they had one more shot of sake together, and Johnny poured one into your mouth.
“There ya go, bonnie. Job well done, aye? This birthday party willnae be topped anytime soon.”
You swallowed the shot, tasting just not the alcohol but the remnants of Gaz’s come as well when it slid down your throat in tandem.
“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” the captain said, “You don’t have to say your goodbyes yet.”
Simon peered down at you over his shoulder,
“Riverbend street, apartment six, right?”
Your eyes went wide. How did he know where you lived?
But, before you could ask him, they let themselves out, leaving you stunned, full of their come, and thrilled about what you would find when you finally made it home tonight.
Kinktober Masterlist
coitus more ferarum - "fuck like animals"
TF141 x f!reader
Kinks > omegaverse, comeflation, hurt-comfort, fuck or die, medical discussions about dicks and puberty
Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.
An Omegaverse AU. You are a professional, one of the best. As a Guidance Omega, you are happy to lend your (well-paid) skills to any Alpha in need. However, when one of your regular clients asks you to help his friend through his very first rut, you wonder if there are some challenges that are beyond your expertise.
You were no doctor, but that definitely did not look good. As you stood next to your long-time client, Captain John Price, the Apex Alpha of his pack, you studied his soldier’s condition. It was the man’s first rut, which was very odd indeed, but nothing about this situation was normal. Apparently, he’d been living as a Beta for years, thinking that he had just missed his parents’ genetic code. But, now that he had been exposed to some sort of Konni terrorist drug, his genes had mutated, awakening latent Alphic traits.
“How old is he?” You asked.
“Twenty-nine. Too bloody old to be going through a first rut,” Price sighed, crossing his arms over his wide chest, “Mine was painful when I was a lad, and my cock was half the size it was meant to be. To be stretched like this… We’re lookin’ to you, Omega. You ever seen anythin’ like it?”
You shook your head. You hadn’t ever seen this before. When Alphas went through their first puberty as younglings, their genitals swelled, growing three or four times their size, breaking the thin skin they had since their birth and replacing their reproductive system with functioning Alpha hormones and fully equipped physical traits. As they matured further, their genitals would still grow and change with them, but not nearly as much as the first time. The initial switch in puberty could be traumatizing for younglings that went through it in later years rather than earlier.
“No,” you sighed with him, “If he were younger, we could obviously opt for the surgery, but this is his mature skin. It’s not the membrane. All those years as a Beta, and now for him to be going through this… The pain must be unbearable. Perhaps… no, no. I don’t think that’s possible.”
“What?” Johnny’s Alpha, Simon Riley, interrupted your thought, insisting, “Tell us. We’ll do anything. We need him to survive this.”
Any other time, you would say that this was a gross overreaction, but in this case, their new Alpha friend may lose his life if he failed to make the change. If his skin cut and bled, if his hormones failed to take over in his Alphic glands, he might not live to even have a rut at all.
“And you’ve tried the warm baths? The ones with the numbing oil I sent you?” You clarified, wondering how he was responding to other treatments.
“Every four hours. They help him get through a few hours of sleep at night, but it’s not sustainable. He can’t even wear clothes for fuck’s sake,” Gaz, an old friend of yours who had known you before your work as a Guardian Omega, spoke up. He was curt, obviously stressed about his friend.
You walked over to Johnny’s bedside and held his hand,
“Hey, Johnny. I’m the Guardian Omega John told you about. I’m here to help you, okay?”
He writhed, sweat beading over his brow, and he glowered down at his naked body, fiercely glaring at his red, swollen prick,
“Serves me right for all the bloody wishin’ I did as a laddie for havin’ a bigger knob, aye?”
The fact that he managed a slight smile and a wry joke, even if it was said through clenched teeth, immediately won you over. This man was exactly your type; brave, funny, and built like a beast. You didn’t know if you could help him, but you wanted to try.
“Johnny, we have to let your dick stretch to its true size. If it stays trapped behind your foreskin and the outer epidermis of your sheath, you could have internal bleeding, or worse.”
“I didnae ken the word epidermis could turn me on, bonnie, but the way you say it… proves me wrong.”
His soft blue eyes finally met yours, and you could tell he was just putting on a courageous face. He knew he was in trouble, and he was probably in more pain than you previously suspected.
“What was your idea?” Simon pressed, coming to stand next to Johnny’s bedside, staring at you with some urgency.
You looked down at Johnny, rubbing the back of his hand with your fingers, feeling the ridges of his knuckles,
“I could keep you in me. We could… soak the skin in the Omegan oils. It would be…”
You stopped talking. It was ridiculous. And based on the look on all of the men’s faces, they couldn’t believe you were even suggesting it.
“You cannae do it, lass. It’d throw you into a wee heat, and I’m in no state to help you. Ah! Shite,” Johnny gasped, wincing in pain as his cock throbbed, obviously eager to be a part of a heat, hypothetical or not.
“I’ll stay, love. You’re gonna need some help gettin’ yourself to that state and keepin’ it that way,” Price volunteered.
“I can’t ask you to do that, John. You’d be in just as much pain as Johnny by the end of the heat.”
“Aye, but I’d be alive, and if it works, so would he.”
John was stubborn. But, he was right. If you were going to try to soak Johnny’s aching cock in you for hours, you needed to prepare. Gaz could see the gears turning in your head,
“You’re gonna need us in shifts, and you know it. This is gonna take a fuckin’ village.”
And so it did. You had John bring in supplies – food, hydration, lube, and every comfort item you could imagine needing – and you got to work. The first step was getting Johnny settled inside of you so that you could allow his skin to soften in the oils from your glands. But, you couldn’t produce those on your own. You needed to be worked up to it by an Alpha, preferably one who knew how to get your body to come hard and quick. Wash, rinse, and repeat.
You wouldn’t be able to get any pleasure from Johnny’s straining cock while he was inside of you. Thrusting would be beyond painful for him, and it would be dangerous to his system. You would need to cockwarm him, and John and his men would need to make you come without fucking you. The only problem was, if you were made to stay in that deep, orgasmic state for long enough, your body would toss you into a heat, and that’s when the real fun would begin.
In your heat, you would expose all of the Alphas in the room to your pheromones. They would rut, and they wouldn’t be able to rut into your cunt with it occupied, as it were. They had to endure the cycle without your soothing oils, sacrificing their own comfort so that you could help Johnny’s foreskin and swollen tissue endure the change.
You thought it might work. It was the best idea you had, but the problem was staring you right in the face: Alphas in a rut physically needed to fuck for it to stop. If – and it was a big if – your plan worked for Soap and you could coax his prick to form a knot, you would then need to service the other three. They might fight each other to be first in line, they might hurt you. It was so risky, but it was a risk you were all willing to take in order for Johnny to get better.
“Johnny,” you woke him from the nap he was taking while you were all gathering supplies, “We’re ready.”
“Mm,” he groaned, his eyes wrenched shut from the pain, “Alright, bonnie. I’m ready for you.”
“This will be the worst of it, I think. And,” you made sure he was looking into your face, “It will be very, very painful.”
He nodded,
“I ken it, lass. Dinnae fash yourself. Needs doin’, and I know you… Angh! Fuck,” he hissed, grabbing your hand tighter when a pang struck him, “You’ll be there for me.”
“I will, Johnny. I won’t leave you. This is gonna work,” you leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, trying to be respectful of Simon’s claim, even if it was now – at least hormonally – invalid.
You stood on the bed, straddling his hips, and Simon and Gaz were there to help lower you into position. You wanted to be able to settle your hole on him as carefully as possible. No sudden movements.
You poured copious amounts of lube down his shaft and used your fingers to spread it around the outside and inside of your entrance. You wanted him to feel as little resistance as possible. This was about comfort, not pleasure.
“Alright, slow as you can,” you instructed, letting the two giants by your side lower you down into position.
The moment your skin made contact with Johnny’s ruddy cockhead, he screamed out in agony,
“Creepin’ Jesus! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“Hold him, John!” You called out to their captain for help. If Johnny jerked forward, he could rip his flesh and cause permanent damage.
Price’s huge hands pinned his friend to the bed, and you could see tears streaming down Johnny’s cheeks. You wished you could take his pain away, but stopping now meant giving up on him, and you weren’t going to let it come to that.
Another inch and you had half of his pulsing head inside of you. It was smooth and easy for you to take with all the lube, but if you hadn’t prepped yourself, Johnny’s giant phallus would be a challenge. If he lived, he would be quite a formidable Alpha. You couldn’t let him down.
“A little further, Gaz,” you said in a low voice, not wanting to scare Johnny of more pain.
Another inch and the crown popped into you, sealing itself within your warm, wet body.
Johnny cried out, shouting for mercy, begging for them to just let him die.
“You can’t fuckin’ die, Johnny,” Simon said, trying to comfort his mate, “C’mon, love. You can do this.”
“Si… please, I cannae…” Soap looked up at him, pleading.
You dropped a little more, and each time you did, you felt your heart clench at Johnny’s groans of anguish, ready for it to end even though you had just begun.
Finally, after more than thirty minutes of this terrible limbo, you reached his base and you settled your weight on his body, staying as still as possible to minimize his discomfort.
“Fuck, bonnie. I cannae do it. I’m sorry, I’m… It hurts,” Johnny was sobbing, and Simon rushed to his side.
Price finally let him free, and he laid there beneath you, throbbing inside of you, aching in your warmth.
“John,” you whispered, getting Price’s attention, “We should hurry.”
The captain took one last look at Soap and then came over to your side. He stripped off his clothes and tugged on his already-hard cock, drooling for you despite the drama. Your pheromones were strong even without a rut; it was why you had been so successful at your job. You just hoped it would be enough.
Price sat on the bed next to where you were straddling Johnny’s cock, and he began to kiss you, making sure to take care not to move you too much, but still taking charge of your pleasure nonetheless. You felt his hand begin to rub your lubed folds, prepping your body for your first of many orgasms.
“Mngh,” you gasped, “Your hands are always so damn good.”
“Love touchin’ you, sweetheart. Gonna make you come for me,” John purred.
And he was right. It didn’t take much effort from him, and you were at the precipice of your first descent into the dark abyss of bliss, trying to come without accidentally humping forward, controlling your breathing, focusing on your core.
“Motherfuck–” You let out a deep guttural groan, your belly twisting in on itself and punishing you for staying so still.
“Good girl,” Price murmured, picking up the pace to chase another one down.
Two, three, four more, and you were sobbing with pleasure. You couldn’t stop yourself from pulsing around Johnny, but he was trying to be brave. He hadn’t complained once during this part of the process, and as you felt your body produce its slick from high up in your cunt, you hoped his flesh would yield and allow his cock to grow. You weren’t sure exactly where your body was going to fit more of him, but that was a problem for later.
“There it is,” you told Price in a slurred voice.
“Your slick? Aye, I smell you, love. Smells like heaven.”
“Keep going,” Simon said over his shoulder, “Please.”
You nodded down at him, holding onto Price for stability, trying your best to stay in this submissive state without any overt movement. It was not easy. All you wanted to do was hump the life out of Johnny’s fat cock and make him drop his load inside of you, but you knew, logically, that couldn’t happen. So, you stayed as still as you could, holding your hips in place, trying to be as stationary as possible for him.
The afternoon turned into evening and then into night, and Price had switched out with Gaz who was now buzzing your high-powered vibrator on you with a dark look in his eyes.
“Babes, I think we have to stop.”
“No,” you gasped, sweat pouring off of your brow, “It’s working. I can feel him growing inside of me. It’ll work.”
“That’s not what I mean. You’re droppin’ into heat. Look at you, you’re burnin’ up.”
You knew he was right, and you also knew it was way too soon. If you fell into your heat now, the whole process would be even harder. The three Alphas who were helping you would have their own needs, soon. And you would be the only one able to solve their rut.
Price was already not faring so well. He’d needed to step into the other room to cool off, and you could see his knot hanging heavy above his balls. He was producing so much of his own slick and come, and your body was feeding off of that knowledge.
“Look, Kyle,” you nodded down at Soap, “He’s asleep, deeply, and he finally has some relief. This is working, and we can’t stop now.”
“Come again, then. Come for me right now,” Gaz used his voice to command you, and you were so weak to his Alpha's power that you did. He had forced you to come just then, and you had to clutch him around the neck to stop from sliding back and forth over Soap’s growing cock.
“See?” Gaz glared at you, “You’re in the early stages now. Your fever isn’t the only bloody clue.”
He grabbed your hair at the nape of your neck and made you look down at his cock. It was huge, and the tip gleamed with an iridescent bead of his Alphic slick. That wasn’t his normal precome. It was a rut, and you were staring at the first drop of his breeding fluids, ready to be painted inside of you to eas the way for his seed to take root.
“Yeah,” Simon sighed, showing you his rainbow-covered palm, “I’ve had it for a while, now. I was just hopin’ Johnny’d be better and we could stop the rut from setting in.”
“Johnny’s knot is just starting to form. If we stop, he’ll have to go through the rest without the oils, and he… mngh…” The vibrator teased your clit, making you feel another orgasm coming on. It was painful for you to come, but you could handle it. Overstimulation was not life-threatening. You gritted your teeth and continued, “He can’t do it alone.”
“Then, come again,” Gaz swiped a wet thumb across your tight asshole, pressing the vibrator even stronger to your body, making you tumble and struggle with another orgasm, “The faster he knots you, the sooner I can have this pretty fuckin’ cunt.”
“Sergeant,” Price snapped at Gaz, forcing his attention away from you, his voice full of a different kind of hunger.
Gaz blinked, the dark look in his eyes giving way to his usual sweetness, and he started to apologize to you,
“Fuck, I’m sorry, babes. Just got a little carried away. You smell so fuckin’ intense in your heats. Your scent…”
“It’s okay, Kyle,” you kissed him on the mouth, “It’s not your fault. Just take a break. I can handle John.”
Gaz kissed you back and retreated, clothing himself and ducking outside on the patio for a smoke. As John came to your side, he helped you onto some pillows, placing them under your knees.
Just when you were settling in again, trying to stay as comfortable as you could, you both heard Soap wake up with a start. Simon was making some tea, but he was right back at Johnny’s side.
“Johnny, careful,” he helped him readjust, waiting for the cries of pain to begin again.
But, the screams didn’t come. Sure, he didn’t look like he was having a particularly good time, but he was not crying out in agony. He seemed more surprised that you were,
“Oh, shite. Bonnie, that feels… better. Feels like I can breathe again. Fuck. The base though. It’s so fuckin’ swollen.”
“Your knot,” you panted, “Your knot finally has room to form. I can feel it stretching me.”
Price moved his hand to the edge of your puffy, aching lips, feeling around the place where your body met Johnny’s, checking to see how far he had knotted you.
“Tha’s our good girl,” he smiled up at you, “Been givin’ him your come, love?”
You nodded, resting your head on Price’s neck, exhausted, but trying to push onward. Soap still needed your strength.
“Let’s give him a little more, yeah?” The captain’s hand moved to your arse, dipping his finger into your tight hole, even tighter now that it was fighting Johnny’s raging erection for space.
“Holy fuck,” Price moaned, “He’s got you so fuckin’ full.”
Between Soap’s spread legs, Price laid down on his belly on the bed and began to kiss and bite the meat of your ass, his warm, wet tongue heading straight for your hole.
He began to lick the outside of your rim, lapping at you in big, long licks. His huge hands were holding your cheeks apart, squeezing their plumpness in his fingers indulgently. When the tip of his pink, writhing muscle reached just beyond the inside of your hole, you cried out, gasping from the sensation. John began to fuck you with his mouth, and you felt your whole body come alive with sparkling need.
“Mngh! John, please!” You shuddered, your knees trembling on the pillows.
John hummed, talking to you between decadent licks,
“You smell so bloody good, Omega. You’ve got me fuckin’ dripping down my cock. My knot is already so full for you. Ready for you.”
“Ngh! You’re comin’ on me, lass. I can feel you, and it actually feels bloody brilliant,” Johnny commented, moaning through gritted teeth.
The man in your pussy was still so sensitive; it was hard for him to focus. But, Soap was growing. His knot was filling with his blood, hardening within you. You could feel it. He was becoming a true Alpha.
“Are you okay, Johnny? Does it hurt?” You asked him, watching as Simon rubbed his hands all over his chest and belly, trying to sooth him.
“In the best way, hen. It’s workin’. I know it is.”
Price’s mouth, and the relief you felt at Johnny’s progress, worked together in your nerves and allowed your muscles to relax. You melted into an orgasm over him, pouring your Omegan oils all over his skin. In that same moment, as your come surrounded Johnny’s immense knot, you felt it slip just that much further into you and plug your hole with its girth. He’d done it; he had knotted you without injury.
You screamed in a wild shout, coming even harder now that you felt Johnny’s thick cream burst inside of your belly, hot and sticky and trapped within you. It made you feel so full of him, his knot and his come leaving little room for anything else. You dared to roll your hips on him, helping drain him dry, pulling more and more come from his heavy balls and letting it churn inside of you, swirling around his cock within your walls.
Price came back up for air, and after you caught your breath, he helped Johnny slip himself out. His cock was red and bruised from his ordeal, but it was the prick of an Alpha. He’d lived through the change.
Just when you were going to lean forward and congratulate him, Price’s hands clenched around your shoulders and yanked you from the bed.
“John! Wait, it’s –”
“It’s my turn, love. You’re in a fuckin’ heat for me, and I’m ready for you,” his face turned dark and serious, just like Gaz had done, and there was no man in the room capable of saving you from John Price.
“Just let me have a moment. I’m so sore, John. If you can wait for–nghah!!”
He threw you down on your hands and knees and thrust himself inside of you, his large shape too much for your body to ignore. You felt the glide of his slick, and you knew he needed to rut inside of you. He’d mate with you, and it would take, even through your pharmaceutical-grade blockers. He was an Apex Alpha, and there were no drugs on the planet to keep him from completing his birthright. You were about to be bred.
“Waited long enough, pretty girl. Johnny’s got you so warm and soft. Shouldn’t be long before you’re taking my knot, too,” he growled in your ear, laying over your body as he tried to squeeze every last inch of his shaft inside your hole.
You could feel his knot swelling at his root like a giant’s fist, bigger than you had ever felt it. But, you’d never serviced him during a heat. It wasn’t done. Guardian Omegas were there to help with ruts; they handled their heats on their own. But, goddamn it was nice to have a real cock for it this time. You’d been single for a long time, and you’d forgotten just how luxurious your body made it feel when you did the right thing and fed a true Alpha right inside your core.
His thrusts were lewd and cruel. John banged himself into you, a hammer and its tack, dragging you under him and covering you with his hulking body. He was trying to knot you already, but you weren’t prepared to take him. Your whole body felt like it would burn up if you let it, and your skin flushed hot with need.
“John… I can’t. You’re too much for me. I’m not… Oh, God, fuck!”
Price didn’t listen to your pleas for mercy. Or, he couldn’t. When you looked at him over your shoulder, you saw his eyes, unfocused and half-closed, glancing down every few thrusts to stare at his cock as it whet itself inside of your pussy. He was gone.
He shoved himself forward, planting his hand in the middle of your back like a hawk with its talons, clutching at his soft prey as he devoured it. His knot pressed, and then retreated, only to press again, determined to get stuck inside your cunt so that his come could fill your womb.
One more hard thrust, and he was in.
You wailed out in high pleasure, and you felt your body begin to shudder and tremble from the mind-breaking lust of taking his enormous knot. It was so heavy inside of you that you felt like you were being pushed down by it. When you tried to lift your hips to roll them against him, you couldn’t move. He was too big.
“Tha’s it, love. Tha’s it. This cunt belongs to me.”
John began to come, grunting and growling out nasty words to you as he spilled his seed inside of you. You felt it pool within you, mixing with Johnny’s, overwhelming it and soaking into your womb. He just kept filling you and filling you; you thought it would never stop. In fact, your belly began to feel tight against the floor, swollen with his milky white come.
But, your legs were dry. He had knotted you so tightly that nothing escaped. When his hips tried to hump you, reflexes from his sex-fueled brain, he dragged you back across the floor with his dick, strong enough to yank your whole body back and forth with his knot. You felt like a ragdoll, tossed about, stuffed and cock-drunk.
When he finally did pull out of you, you felt the gush of fluids burst out of your hole and cover the floor. It was a sickening, oozing sort of feeling, and you had to catch your breath from the way your belly clenched and spasmed from the stress.
Just when you thought your ordeal was over, you felt another set of hands take their place on your ass cheeks, holding you down again.
You looked over your shoulder, and you realized that Gaz had come back inside, ready for his turn with you.
You started to protest, but John’s callused hand grabbed your face, lifting you up and setting your mouth on his cock, breathing hard and groaning,
“Good little Omega. Be sweet for Garrick, love. You’ll have me again soon. Quite the fuckin’ rut you started. Had no idea this pussy could be so nice. Might have to send you into heat more often.”
idek what the hell this is. someone put me out to pasture holy hell what is wrong with me
Kinktober Masterlist
ad captandum vulgus - "to captivate the masses"
TF141 x f!reader
Kinks > glory hole, anal virginity, gangbang
Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.
Your four boyfriends are overrun by stress. Hunting terrorists is a full-time job, so you take matters into your own hands to help them blow off some steam.
Sorry I'm late! Working on catching up right now. Y’all ever watched those Czech Fantasy glory hole videos? Anyway, can't get enough of those, so here's this.
The soft, silicone cock in your mouth was muffling the cries coming from deep in your chest as you felt two thick fingers pry their way into your cunt. You were laying on your back inside the dark, empty void of one of the weapons crates in the warehouse on base, the top half of your body concealed inside of the wooden box, and your lower half sticking out of a hole in the side, naked and exposed to the chilly air. Your legs were tied up, ankles hooked up to the metal storage shelf racks, thighs spread open, forcing your pussy lips to splay wide and wet and ready for someone’s mouth and fingers and prick.
The voices outside of the crate were muffled, but you could just barely make out their words.
“Pretty cunt on offer, huh? Free for any bastard to come and take,” you heard your lieutenant’s dark chuckle as he pushed his fingers even further inside of you, curling them to shove and prod against the pliant spot that made you scream.
“Wha’s all this, then?” Kyle’s voice came through from the side of your box as he made his way over to where Simon was hard at work, making your hips writhe and hump his hand.
“Our perfect little slut…” You heard him cruelly spit onto your clit, and you felt it, warm and slick, slip across your skin, “Got all set up for us. Wanted to welcome us home from our mission.”
“Needy slag, innit she?” John purred, and you felt his hand join Simon’s, pulling at your plump ass cheek to make your holes stretch and gape.
“Lemme go first, LT. I cannae wait any longer,” Johnny begged.
“Alrigh’, Johnny,” Simon pulled away from you, “But, don’t be too rough with her. We all want a turn, mate.”
You immediately felt a familiar mouth seal itself across your clit, sucking up Simon’s hot spit and your sticky precome all in one savage gulp. You’d know that tongue anywhere. Johnny ate you in the most blindingly erotic way. You felt like he was consuming you, inside and out. You didn’t know what was lip or tongue or finger, but he used them in symphonic unison to drag you, writhing and screaming, into an orgasm. But, your Scot was as cruel as his masked friend, and he didn’t care if you were in the throes of a hard come; he would double down, shoving his tongue down your hole and slurping your gifts into his throat.
Then, he pulled away, leaving you with nothing, curling your hips to reach for him, until –
“Oh, shite. Tha’s it, right there. Unghh…” Johnny groaned.
He was shoving his fat, curved cock into you, slow and steady, scraping his head on those same sensitive spots Simon had been torturing with his fingertips. Johnny still played with your clit as he rammed himself into you, stretching you, pulling you apart at the seams, making you feel like you were being stuffed beyond your limit.
You wanted to cry out, to tell him to slow down, but you couldn’t. The gag would only let you scream against it and swallow your hot, thick drool as your mind began to burn away to a blank nothingness.
He fucked you so hard that the box creaked, over and over, the wood crying out the same as you, whining from being overused.
Then, you felt him dig deeper inside of you, dropping load after load of his come into your hole, deep enough that you could feel it sliding around in your soft channel, foaming and hot like milk in coffee, creamy and smooth. Two loving slaps against your ass as he slid out of you were the only thanks you got before you felt the next man at your hole.
You couldn’t tell, at first, which one of your boyfriends was having his way with you this time, until you realized how long it was taking him to slide his entire length into you. Kyle’s prick always preferred a long drive in and a long retreat back out. He loved it when you stroked his entire length with your hands clasped together around him, soaked in lube and slowly massaging him from tip to root, and he used your pussy in much the same way. It was hypnotic, and when he did finally squeeze himself all the way to his base, it made it hard for you to take a breath.
Usually, he was Mr. Foreplay. He’d spend twenty minutes on your tits alone, much less fondling your wet little hole. He loved getting you screaming for him before he even had himself out of his pants, but today, something was different. It was as if the box allowed him to be selfish. He didn’t care about your pleasure this time. He just wanted to take and take and take.
So, he did. He stroked himself with your quim like you were his toy. You were just a warm, wet fleshlight, there to be used and nothing more. You were made to take his load, nothing more. The feeling of him being so unabashedly greedy was electrifying. His cock was so mean to you, ignoring your pulsing, writhing signals and blowing past your clenching quivers. In and in and in… out and out and out… that was all you knew. He had wiped your mind clean.
Then, the final time he shoved himself in, he stayed there, grinding into you, humping and thrusting at a punishing pace, milking himself with your gooey textures and grunting like an animal as his hands clutched the corners of the box, blocking out the light from where his palms dug into the pine.
You were so close to coming, but right when you began to tense up, he felt you, and he came to a sudden halt. He was teasing you. You tried to fuck him back, pushing your hips in every direction, working to fit his thick base back inside you, but he stopped you, gripping your body in his huge hands and holding you still.
Once you stopped fighting him, frustrated by the futility of it all, he watched your muscles melt back into submission, and he rewarded you with slippery, firm strokes along the hardened body of your clit, rubbing it affectionately like a well-heeled pet. It was not enough to bring your orgasm back to the surface, but instead, it caused your pleasure to roil and turn inside of your core like an unfed beast, pouting for its dinner.
“Too greedy, babes,” he laughed at you with a tinge of ridicule, knowing the others were watching, “You only come when I want you to come.”
Kyle returned to his long, aching strokes, working his cock like the piston of a machine, unwavering in its rhythmic pattern or its ferocious power. Then, just as his pacing increased, he pinched your clithead between his knuckles, bringing tears to your eyes. In the middle of the most intense pleasure you’d ever been given, he had made you deal with this sharp agony, and your mind could not handle both at once. So, you lost your orgasm, but he enjoyed his.
You sobbed as you felt his prick jerking inside of you, spitting fiery hot ropes of his come all over your walls and womb, filling you deeply just like Johnny.
You expected him to pull out, and you were already grumbling about it in your head, silently bratty and plotting your revenge. But, he didn’t. He’d come in you and yet he was still seated inside, sealed like a sword in its sheath. The same fingers that had been so malicious were now back to their delicate, coaxing affection. He was pressing soft circles around your clit, picking up speed when he felt you pulse around the softening body of his dick.
You were going to come, and you knew you were going to come hard.
“Tha’s it. Good girls get rewards, innit that right, Cap?”
John hummed, obviously watching your body sing for its conductor.
The pressure within you built and built, and you were having trouble breathing. You wanted to cry out, but the gag was in your way, and you had to keep swallowing around it, stuck in a loop of feeling full in both ends of your body.
Just as you were about to crash into bliss, Kyle ripped himself from you, and at the same time, your pussy beared down, thinking it had something hard to press against. But, you were empty, and so all of that force sent the come that you had been keeping warm in your belly squirting out of your hole and onto the floor. Sliding out of your cunt, it dripped down your ass cheek and pooled on the ground, making you look every bit the freeuse slut that you knew you were.
“My, my…” Price’s dark growl commented, “Filled her to the brim, didn’t you, Sergeant? Good lad.”
You could feel John playing with the stream of milky come that was oozing out of your hole, spreading it around. He scooped it onto his fingers and began to shove it back into your pussy, fucking you with his middle and ring fingers gently at first, and then not at all. He was fucking you on his hand hard enough to shake the box, and you knew he could make you squirt. He loved it. He didn’t care how overstimulated you were; he would keep pushing your buttons over and over, watching you spray your liquid joy all over him and you and whatever else was in the way.
You twisted, trying to escape him, but he was too strong.
“C’mon, love. Come for me. I wanna see it.”
You’d just come from Kyle’s big dick, but Price didn’t give a damn. He yanked another one from you, making you feel as if you were wetting yourself, pressing deep enough and firm enough to force your pussy to squirt all over his palm. Your whole body seized, unable to control the movements he was putting you through. You felt like his helpless puppet, stuck on his hand and thanking him for it.
Price left you there, your ankles hanging limply in their ties where you’d stuck your feet in them, your legs trembling like a fawn, shaking and shining from your come, your body begging for more and your mind too fuck-drunk to protest.
Then, he was back. You knew it was him because you always struggled to take his girthy cock. The head was immense and hard like a fist. It bullied its way into your cunt, using your other boyfriends’ come as lube. Even so, he had to retreat over and over, whetting himself repeatedly, just so that he could make progress. He stretched you so far that it ached like a bruise, and your pussy, already primed to come for him, started up again, making you tense and squeeze and roll and spread yourself for him, opening wide like a whore, like he paid you for it.
“Fuck, I willnae ever get tired of watchin’ how he makes her do that. Struggle on that cock, bonnie. Your man loves it when you fight, don’t he?”
“Yeah, I fuckin’ do,” Price agreed, the tips of his fingers held tight together and slapping sharply on your clit and mons, stinging your flesh as he fucked you deeper and deeper.
Someone else’s fingers started to grope your thighs and ass, gripping you hard and trailing wet kisses across your skin. You felt your body melting into his touch, such a stark contrast from John’s lustful torment. When his mouth dragged its way up your thigh, his nose bumped your calf, and you knew it was Simon, your Ghost. He was still in his mask, and you could feel the folds of it against the bridge of his nose, scrunched up to let him use his mouth on you.
Simon played with you while Price stuffed you full of cock, his captain set on pounding your pussy until it was hot from his work. You felt Simon’s fingertip dip into the tight hole of your ass, testing your leniency. He’d been begging you for weeks to let him try anal, but you had told him that he was too big. Now, he saw his chance. His finger sank deeper, down to the first knuckle, and he made firm circles around the rim, massaging you open, getting you ready for him.
Price held you around the waist, both of his thumbs pressing down into your womb, taking away any remaining space inside of your stuffed cunt, making you feel every single ridge and vein on his prick. It made you want to come, and he knew you were about to explode.
“I know what you want, love. Take it. C’mon, make me come. Make this fuckin’ pussy grab my cock,” Price talked you through each suffocating wave of your orgasm, barking orders like you were one of his men, knowing you could follow them like he’d trained you to.
You wanted him to come with you, to fill you up with his soft seed, but he didn’t. He pulled out and then stuck just the tip of his dick inside of your asshole, letting his spend shoot through your forbidden hole, lubing you up for his lieutenant.
“There you go, Riley. Should do the job, aye?”
“Yes, sir. Cheers, mate.”
No sooner was Price gone from you than Simon had taken his place, settling his dick on top of your pussy and dragging it through your slick skin, letting your lips lick him wet. He teased you with his hard length, using his dick like a toy, jerking his shaft so that his head would vibrate against your clit, making you squirm beneath his touch.
“Deep breath, princess,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, taking two fingers of your pussy’s sticky fluids and smearing them across your asshole.
His pet name for you sent butterflies through your stomach. He only used it on special occasions, and for him to use it now, when you were hidden away and splayed open, vulnerable as you’d ever been, made your head swim. He was really going to take your asshole right here in the warehouse, shamelessly taking your untouched hole in front of your other lovers, claiming it for himself.
The press of his head was enough to make your blood rush through your body and head for your core. You felt dizzy. He pushed forward gently, going so slowly that it didn’t seem as if he was even moving in you, using his head to kiss your tight muscles until your body relented, allowing him through. Then, you felt him spread your walls apart, making contact with Price’s come and using it to ease his path.
It made you feel full in a new way. You were familiar with fingers and tongues invading your space, but having Simon’s heavy cock there gave you a whole different kind of experience. You were so sensitive, and what you thought would be painful or upsetting was actually warping itself into a wild, unbridled kind of pleasure. It was like a scalding hot bath that, once you got used to the heat, made you dissolve into the delicate warmth of it like fine sugar.
“Mnghff-fuck,” Simon groaned roughly, “Tha’s it, baby. Relax for me just like that.”
Another pair of hands began to play with your pussy, two fingers at your clit, two inside your cunt, and Simon rutting himself steadily into your asshole.
“Takin’ you so well, LT. Didnae think it’d fit.”
“She’s perfect, Johnny. Just wait until you try her arse. Fuckin’ heaven.”
You felt Johnny’s mouth on your clit as another man finger-fucked your pussy, and he sucked greedily on your overstimulated clit, swollen and sore from all the attention. But, he didn’t hear your protests, and he simply suckled away, licking you and using his jaw to spread your folds so he could use his tongue to reach for more of your taste.
Simon had reached his root, shoving his damp curls against your core, and now he began to slowly and shallowly fuck you, worried that more would be too much for you to handle. You wanted to tell him you needed more, wanted to scream for him to bury himself in you, to fuck your asshole like he would your pussy. But, he didn’t. He was careful, deliberate, and you could feel the shudder of his body from just how hard he was holding himself back.
“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” Kyle’s deep voice came through a smile. You could tell he was pleased by something, “You should feel her cunt, mate. She’s lovin’ this.”
He was the one fucking you on his hand, and all of your excitement was obvious from your pulsing need.
“I can feel her,” Simon grunted, overwhelmed by the knowledge that you were indeed enjoying your ass being invaded by his throbbing rod.
His trembling was getting progressively worse, and you felt it in his hands as he grasped your thighs. He kept readjusting his grip, but you knew that his hands were shaking, the tremors of his restraint exacerbating his ability to hold his own pleasure at bay. He hissed as you started to come from Johnny’s mouth,
“So fuckin’ tight, princess. Fuck!”
You wanted to bring him with you into the swirling mesmerism of bliss, so you stayed tight, using your weak muscles to squeeze him as much as you could, imagining your holes like soft, wet fists, grasping at his tool and trying to use him to work yourself into a high, vicious fever.
You could feel the fabric of his mask as Simon leaned his forehead against your leg, the heat from his panting breaths, his exhaustion breaking your heart. You promised yourself in your heart that, as soon as you were out of this box and fully recovered, you’d show him how well you could take him. He didn’t need to temper his passion.
The only time you got a glimpse at his true hunger was right as he started to come. His hips jerked forward, as if he was shoved, and he thrust his cock far into your asshole, spreading his slick cream as deep as he could reach. Johnny had stepped back, and Kyle pulled his fingers from you, moving out of their lieutenant’s way as he completed his ritual, marking your insides, making you his.
You felt the sweetest kiss against your ankle just before he slid himself from you, trying to go easy on your used hole. But, you couldn’t feel any pain. Not anymore. Your body was racked with pleasure. If someone had even brushed their finger over your pussy, you thought you might come.
Simon’s hands fumbled with one of the ropes around your foot, and someone else took care of the other. Then, bright light filled your eyes as John pried open the crate. Then, all four men peered inside, starting down at you with wide smiles and satisfied grins plastered across their faces.
“Hey, love. Let’s get you out, yeah?” Price purred, removing your gag and wiping your mouth with his thumb. With ease, he pulled you from the crate and cradled you in his arms, helping Johnny wrap his jacket around you. Johnny leaned forward to kiss your forehead, and Simon lifted your fingers to his lips before he replaced his mask.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, babes,” Kyle spoke to you in a low tone, petting his thumb across your cheek.
“Took such good care of us, lass. It’s our turn, now.”
You let them take you back to their shared room, holding onto them and letting them bathe you and set everything right, tucking you into bed and sitting with you as you dozed. They had all sprawled across the mattress, laying on you and each other, not truly caring whose limbs were whose.
As usual, Simon was the last to doze off, and you whispered to each other in quiet voices.
“You alright, missus?” He asked, his voice attempting to hide his troubled concern.
“Mmm,” you nodded, “More than alright.”
There was a bit of a lull; he was considering something, and then he asked,
“Did you like it? Was I too –”
“No,” you stopped him in the middle of his worry, “You were perfect. Maybe next time we could –”
“Next time?” His surprise warmed your heart, and you smiled up at him, lifting his mask up to kiss his mouth.
Kinktober Masterlist
aegri somnia - “troubled dreams”
TF141 x f!reader
Kinks > sex-pollen, gangbang, semipublic, corruption
Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.
You’re at a costume party on Halloween night on base with your team. The whole gang is there, and they sample something …strange… from the bar. The only cure for their fever? You.
Warning: drugged sex, dubcon, sex-pollen style scene, anal, vaginal, face fucking, some ghoap.
You were a kitty cat. Past tense. Now, you looked like a chimney sweep. This Halloween party had gotten way out of hand. The heating was cranked up to ninth-circle-of-Hell temperatures, and everyone was dancing, sweating, and getting completely fucking sloshed.
Your whiskers and nose had long been rubbed away, and you’d lost the cat ears somewhere between the upstairs toilet and the sandpit volleyball game that the boys had set up in the basement. Two months of deadtime in the Urzikstani Green Zone had been great for morale but shit for discipline. Price was gonna be so pissed when he saw how Soap had painted the TAC-V like a big pumpkin.
“You alright, love?” Gaz slurred, stumbling a bit before resting his arm around your shoulder, half-in and half-out of his own Paddington Bear getup. He still had the red hat, but the blue jacket was tied around his waist, and the matching shorts looked like little more than boxer briefs.
“Yeah,” you nodded, “Parched. What’s that?” You pointed to his hand, jealous that he had a cold beverage.
“Mm,” he took a sip and handed you the cup, “I dunno. Soap was passin’ it around. Orange, mysterious, probably lethal.”
“I’ll take my chances,” you laughed, downing the last sip.
“Speak of the devil…” Gaz nodded over to the makeshift bar.
There, on top of two stacks of crates, stood Soap, pouring his orange concoction right into Simon Riley’s open mouth. Soap was dressed in a little red devil outfit, complete with pitchfork, and Ghost was… well, he was just himself. The skeleton mask did the trick, you supposed.
You shook your head, laughing at them, and Soap looked up to see you there.
“Oy! C’mere, bonnie. Got somethin’ special for ya.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” you grumbled, walking over to the bar with Gaz in tow.
Soap was crouched over in his tight red onesie, digging through an ice chest. He emerged with a wide, mischievous smile on his face and a bottle of eerie, murky liquid.
“Pinched this from Ale and Rudy when they were in last night. Probably that killer tequila he’s been on about. Didnae wanna try it by meself.”
He started to pour out four cups, and you turned your nose up at it,
“Oh, Jesus, Johnny. This smells like piss.”
“Quit your whingin’, lass. You’ve had worse things in your mouth,” he winked, downing his shot and wearing a twisted face of immediate regret.
“Suppose that’s right,” you shrugged, drinking down your own.
It rushed through you like burning fire, and it made you feel like you’d been punched right in the jaw.
“Holy fuck,” Simon coughed, “The hell is this, Johnny? Fuckin’ petrol?”
“I’m gonna be sick,” Gaz complained, trying to breathe slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth.
“Ach! C’mon, it’s not that bad,” Johnny protested, going back for a second dose.
Suddenly, a husky voice came out of the darkness behind the crates,
“What’s all this then?”
“Oh, hey, Cap’n,” Johnny tried to look normal. He failed, but at least he tried.
Price rolled his eyes, but he held out his cup and held it out to the sergeant,
“Go on, then. Give us a taste.”
You watched as Price took two big gulps, your own stomach turning from the memory, and gaped in amazement as he mostly controlled his expression. Show off.
You were already sweaty, but this tequila made you feel like you were going to burn right up. You wanted to move. The music was deafening, and even though you didn’t know this song, you begged Gaz for a dance.
“C’mon! Just one.”
“Alright, love. But, you know I can never have just one,” he twirled you around, making you feel even drunker than you were, and led you out into the warehouse where Ghost had rigged his huge boombox to make a dance floor.
Everyone was dancing. Time was moving at an insane rate. Fast and slow, dilating in and out, and you were like a shadow, letting it pass right through you, drunk and high and everything in between.
Soap and Ghost joined you, and Price watched on from the edge, smoking and looking a little red around his eyes.
Suddenly, Gaz’s hands were on your hips, pulling you back into him, grinding you against his crotch.
“Hey,” you turned over your shoulder, “What’s goin’ on?”
“Nothin’, babes. Just dancin’. That alright?”
You nodded, smiling up at him,
“Yeah, I guess so. Feels like this tequila went right to my head.”
“This fat arse is goin’ right to mine,” he said, staring down at your butt, squeezing it roughly.
You felt his cock through his shorts as he danced with you, rubbing himself against your leotard and fishnet combination, chasing his own high.
Soap joined you, dancing in front of you, lacing his legs between yours, dancing even closer to you than Gaz. He looped one arm around your neck, and he threaded the other around your waist, moving his hips in time with the beat, drinking another cupful of tequila when he got the chance.
Ghost was behind him, and he began peeling off the lycra onesie, revealing Soap’s broad chest to you, rubbing him down with his hands, playing with his nipples in front of the entire base.
Had you been in your right mind, you would’ve balked at such behavior. But, for some reason, it felt right. You wanted to touch him, too. So, you did.
You reached out in front of you and ran your hands down his belly, lowering the zipper even further, feeling his heated skin.
“Mmf-fuck,” Ghost moaned, “Tha’s hot.”
Soap seemed to agree, his arching erection obvious through the thin, red outfit.
Gaz’s hands moved from your ass to your tits, squeezing them as he pulled your body against him, thrusting himself against you to the rhythm of the drum and bass, letting you feel his incredible length across your backside.
“Look at these, mate,” Gaz cooed in your ear, talking to the other boys, massaging your breasts and pulling at the fabric of your leotard until it almost let your heavy tits fall out.
“Gaz… what’s…” You tried to clear your mind, “What’s gotten into you lads?”
Your lieutenant leaned forward across Soap’s shoulder and kissed you through his balaclava, moving his mouth into yours, letting you feel the outline of his full lips. You tried to kiss him back, using your hands to flip up the edge of his mask, finding his chin and cheek, moving over so you could taste him properly.
He was full of that dark tequila, and a hint of his menthols, musky and manly in the most enticing way. When he pulled away, he went immediately to Soap’s neck, sucking on his flesh and making him moan aloud in the middle of the dance floor.
Suddenly, a large, strong hand gripped your face and turned you towards him, kissing you full on the mouth. His beard and mustache were the only giveaways that it was your captain, feeding you his tongue and choking you with it greedily.
What was happening? This was insane. Something was wrong. What was in that drink?
“Cap,” you whispered when he allowed you space for a breath, “What’s happening?”
“Need you, love. Need you right fuckin’ now.”
Gaz’s hands reached into your leotard, around your cotton cat tail, and tugged at the gusset. The button snaps popped, revealing your ass, covered only in fishnets. He dug his fingers into the large holes of the fishnet leggings and pulled, ripping them apart, making room for his fingers to sink themselves into your dripping hole.
You fell forward, grabbing onto Johnny’s shoulders, loving the way Gaz’s hand felt as he moved it inside of you, each finger was like its own challenge, delving into you and reaching for your soft spots.
“Fuck, she’s wet,” Gaz revealed, and you felt your cheeks warm with shame.
Soap smiled down at you, reaching between your legs on his own accord,
“Oh? Is that so, bonnie girl?”
He touched you right beside Gaz, both of their hands vying for position, sometimes shoving their fingers into you at the same time As Gaz would pull away, Soap would bully his knuckles forward, swiping up into you like a greedy thief, reaching for more of your silky wetness. Then, Gaz would return, playing at your clit and then feeding two of his fingers inside of you again, stretching you to make room for both his and Johnny’s eager hands, not caring who was there first or whether or not you were enjoying yourself.
You were enjoying yourself. But, that was beside the point. Weren’t you at a party? What were you doing before this? There were other people around, right?
But, they suddenly didn’t matter. Price tugged down your shoulder strap to reveal your breast. He marveled at the puffy nipple, pebbled and waiting for his mouth. He bent and began to suckle from you, feeding his other hand across your chest, groping you under the fabric of your outfit as he pulled you into his mouth.
Johnny’s ragged moan cut through the fog of your pleasure, and you looked up at him. He was nearly naked, his devil horns the only thing left from the waist up, and Ghost was kneeling behind him, his mask pushed up, eating his sergeant’s asshole and spreading his cheeks apart cruelly.
You reached down to feel Soap’s cock, and it was leaking through the fabric, barely concealed anymore by the costume. You pulled him free, jerking him off, smearing his glossy precome all over his pulsing, pink head.
Price grew tired of your clothing, and he began to rip your costume away from you. Gaz helped him, pulling and tugging and tearing at the fabric. You were left in your fishnets and heels, stumbling between the men surrounding you, feeling the tequila worm its way into your core, stirring your body and making you yearn to be fucked by their heavy pricks.
Gaz was the first to press himself into you. You were shoved forward, your face smashed into Johnny’s furry belly, his sweat painting your cheek, and Gaz held you in place. He gripped your hips with a painful clutch of his hands, and he swiped his dick through your lips, back and forth, coating himself in your wet warmth. Then, that familiar, aching stretch, and he was inside of you, humping his cock into you deeper and deeper, filling the empty space within your core.
“Holy fuck,” Price purred, grabbing you by your hair at the nape of your neck.
He pulled you toward him, his fat prick in his hands, and fed himself into your mouth, shoving your head down onto his shaft, choking you with his girth.
Soap pulled you from him, giving you the same treatment, and you could taste the salty precome that he was leaking with, using the momentum of Gaz fucking you to find a rhythm with your mouth.
They took turns using you, moving you back and forth, fucking your throat until it burned, pushing you further and further down until your nose was buried in their dense curls, tickling you with the matted fur at the root of their cocks. All you could do was swallow and try to breathe, but it was little use. You were drooling all over them, unable to control your body and its desperate attempt to prepare you for their huge pricks.
Gaz had ripped an orgasm from you twice, making you scream around the base of Price’s cock, shoving his thumb into your twitching, tight asshole as his cock ruined your pussy. He was well and truly gone, at this point. His grunting was like that of a beast, and you could feel the sweat dripping off of him and onto your back.
Ghost grew tired of tasting Johnny’s asshole, and now he was fucking him in shallow, huffing thrusts. Every time he would push himself further into his hole, Johnny would leak a little more, his come running down his shaft like sap from a huge trunk, sticky and sweet and endless.
You were in the middle of tasting Johnny’s dripping head when you felt Gaz bottom out inside of you. Then, he shouted out a long, whining, rumble as he pumped you full of his come. You felt it spilling out of him, pouring into your cunt, spraying rope after rope of his seed into your walls, soaking your hole, desperate to seep into your womb.
Price all but shouldered Gaz out of the way, manhandling your body until you were wrapped in his arms, your legs slung over each giant bicep, and you were being lowered onto his impossible phallus.
“I… I can’t…” You protested, unsure of whether or not you would survive whatever your captain had to give you.
“You will,” he purred darkly, his voice demonic in its timbre, “Oh, baby, you will.”
He slipped his head into your hole, but that was all that slipped. Everything else was an uphill battle. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to take some of the weight off of your core, but it was no use, he was using his heavy hands to pull you down onto him, squeezing himself inside inch by agonizing inch. You said a prayer of thanks to whatever sick gods were watching your debasement that he was not as long as Kyle.
You hissed in a breath when he reached a new level of thickness that your body had never experienced before.
“Shh, shh,” he cooed in your ear, “Be a good girl, love. Relax for me.”
His hands readjusted, moving lower to pull your cheeks apart, and he used his middle finger to dip into your asshole, playing in Gaz’s dripping come, swirling it around the puckered rim, teasing you by prodding you with shallow thrusts of his finger.
It was enough to distract you from what he was doing to your poor pussy, and he shoved himself in to the base, shocking you enough that your blood ran cold. You held your breath, unable to even cry out. It was as if you were a machine that had been unplugged. You were gone. Your captain had fucked your mind right out of your head.
“That’s it. There she is,” he smiled sinisterly, pumping himself in and out, using your own weight to fuck you on his heavy rod.
Two, greedy hands reached around to grope your breasts, grabbing them roughly, pinching your nipples until you whimpered and squirmed. Johnny was behind you, being fucked hard by Ghost, teasing your heavy breasts and rubbing his cock against your ass.
Price’s hands were in the way, but when he felt Johnny’s cock, he positioned you so that his sergeant could reach. Then, you felt Johnny’s slick cockhead writhe its way inside the very brink of your asshole. He was so close to coming, it didn’t take much depth to take him there. As Simon fucked him, he thrust himself up into you, stretching your hole, unable to fit inside as deep as he would’ve liked with Price in the way. There was just no room.
Johnny came in you messily and with total abandon. He bit down on your shoulder, keening and groaning, spending himself inside your asshole and letting it drool out of you as he left you there, warring with Price and his weapon.
Ghost let Johnny sink to the floor, and he took his place behind you. He was as tall as the captain, and his cock was almost as large, but there was no gentle rubbing like what Johnny had given you. Simon spread you wide, making you cry out from the way you were being spread apart, your cunt desperately clenching around Price, trying to find a way to hold onto something, anything. Then, he fed his cock inside your asshole, wet already from Johnny’s greedy core, shoving and pushing and squeezing his way beside Price, not taking any sort of laws of physics too seriously.
He began to kiss your neck, staying perfectly still and buried in you to the hilt, letting Price do all the work. The captain kissed you on the other side, biting you and leaving huge red marks where his teeth were too mean on your tender flesh.
“Too fuckin’ tight,” Ghost complained, moaning into your skin.
“Knew she could take it,” Price smiled, kissing your slack mouth.
“Needy slag,” your lieutenant growled, leaving marks of his own all across your throat.
He was playing with your tits, pinching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb, holding them up and out, making you feel like you were trapped in his hands. Then, he would knead them, feeling the weighty softness, enjoying your vulnerability, revelling in your corruption.
Price’s thick cock was moving you both, shoving and bullying Simon’s dick through the thin flesh between your holes, making his masked officer harden like a stone inside of you.
“M’gonna come in you,” Ghost promised, whispering against your earlobe, sucking it into his mouth.
You could only cry out, your brain too fuck-drunk to make any words. Sluts didn’t need words. They just needed to come hard and clench their tight little holes around these two, huge cocks. You were nothing more than a hole to be filled.
Simon thrust in opposite motions from Price, moving himself through your asshole at an absurd speed, fucking you into a shuddering orgasm, and blowing his load deep inside your belly. You could feel its creamy warmth, and as he pulled out of you, you felt it drip from your gaping hole, mixing with Johnny’s fallen seed on the floor.
Price was still pounding away, brute that he was. Now that he was alone, he lay you on the crate beside him and held your knees open wide, splaying your thighs apart and staring at his cock as it thrust through your folds.
You were moaning like a paid whore, coming in waves, your whole body feeling the effects of your pleasure, full of come and hungry for more.
Suddenly, the music kicked off with a thud and you heard laughter coming from across the room.
“Déjame adivinar…” Alejandro’s rude tone came through loud and clear, “You filthy perritos got into my Damiana, verdad?”
Rudy reached behind the crates that Gaz and Soap were leaning against, panting, sweating, and covered in come. Then, he pulled out the bottle, half-empty. He let out a low, pitying whistle, watching as Price buried himself in you with loud, wet slapping noises filling the room,
“No mames, güey,” he shook his head, showing Alejandro the bottle, “Mira. They’ll be hard until next week.”
“Mierda!” Alejandro cursed your group, all worn out in your pitiful states, “This was expensive stuff. I had it made by a bruja! Extra strong. You owe me, pendejos.”
Their crackling laughter made your head spin, and as you listened to the pounding of flesh on flesh, you knew you were in for a long fucking night.
Hope you enjoyed this year's Kinktober adventure! Thanks for sticking around. Happy Halloween, everyone!
If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving me a like or a comment to let me know. As always, reblogs are deeply appreciated.
Want more from me? Check my AO3 profile. I have over 100 COD fics! (I know, crazy.)
Discord: @californicationist
Kinktober Masterlist
rara avis - "the rare bird"
John Price x f!reader
Kinks > yandere, NC voyeurism, stalking, rough sex
Full tags on AO3 - MDNI
When you move to your new home, you are totally swept off your feet by the amenities. There are so many beautiful, wooded trails and a gorgeous creek for you to explore in your own backyard. Your neighbor, an avid bird watcher, mostly keeps to himself. However, you start feeling like you’re the bird being watched.
If you don't like what's in the kink list, don't fucking click on this story. You're not invited. Block me, and then.... Get. Fucking. Lost.
You had picked this place because of the view. Your backyard overlooked the most gorgeous, fairytale-perfect creek that you’d ever seen. In the morning, ducks and their ducklings played in the shallow bends and curves of the whispering brook, and at night, frogs and fireflies sang and danced to serenade you to sleep. It was heaven.
So, that’s why you practically lived in your backyard. You were always outside gardening or weeding, laying by the stream with a spicy book, or swinging gently in your hammock, letting your toes skim the cold water of your very own oasis.
Your swimming had started as a summer habit. After you finished your sweaty chores, you loved stripping down to your bra and panties to cool off in the little creek. The deepest part only came to your belly button, so it was more like a sit rather than a swim, but you didn’t mind. In fact, if you remained still long enough, little finches would sneak along the bank, keeping an eye on you while they hunted for bugs and seeds in the muddy shoal.
Autumn brought cardinals and bluebird that roosted in the low branches of your trees, and a very vocal whippoorwill, all competing for their own spot in this obvious paradise.
You weren’t much of a bird watcher, but your neighbor was.
Captain John Price was some sort of legend. He had served in the special forces, or still did serve, but that was all classified. Your other neighbors had let you in on his intense background, yet no one had anything but the highest praise for his classy manners and charming smile. And while he did flash a beaming grin to the Smiths and the Broussards across the wide lane, he looked at you with a different sort of smile.
The way he looked at you made you melt like a popsicle on a hot day.
You’d gotten closer to the captain over the last year or so that you’d lived here. He had come over one evening because your pipes had burst in the freeze, and he knew just how to fix it. Over the course of the season, he’d sit outside and you would make excuses to chat with him. Once he had your attention, he’d point out all the different types of birds that flitted between his trees and yours, helping you recognize their calls. He’d bring his binoculars with him some evenings while he sat to watch the avian traffic, and he even let you peer through the lenses to see a nest of baby chicks in your own backyard.
Then, he’d had to go away for “work”, so he asked you to keep an eye on the mail for him. He was only supposed to be gone for six weeks, but six more weeks passed before he showed up with ten stitches over his eye and his arm in a sling asking for his key back.
When he saw your face fall in reaction to his wounds, he chuckled, the corners of his eyes creasing at their seams as he told his lies,
“Clumsy, me. Fell down the bloody stairs at Heathrow. Dunno what hurts worse, my arm or my pride.”
The wink that he tacked on at the end of his quip was Cupid’s thick-shafted arrow, striking you right in your heart. You were in trouble. This man was some sort of secret agent contract killer, and yet you found yourself replacing old boyfriends’ faces with his when you made yourself come at night, imagining him spreading you open instead of whoever had been your flavor of the month back then. Price might be the most dangerous man on Earth, but goddamnit, you didn’t care.
Over the following summer, your dark fantasies continued. He started working on his own backyard, putting up birdhouses and sharing facts with you about some of the local species he was hoping to host when you passed each other coming and going. Each day that you got to see him was a true gift, even if you didn’t really care about birding in the least.
One particular afternoon was especially fruitful. The captain was out there all day trimming trees, cutting brush, and hacking back old growth… shirtless. His muscles gleamed like a hirsute Adonis, snapping and rolling under his skin like a symphony of strength. The way his tanned flesh gleamed in the sun made him look like he was carved out of bronze.
So, you thought, two could play at that game.
You bought a white bikini online and lounged in it the first day it came in, rocking back and forth in your hammock, hoping that you could catch a glimpse of him watching you with that savage look in his eyes. When you spotted him glance over at you from his garden, you knew your plan had worked. He would peek over his shoulder as he raked or shoveled, almost imperceptibly, but you were watching him like a hawk and you noticed every little breath and movement he was making.
As the afternoon wore on, especially when you needed to apply more sunscreen, he fed you juicier and juicer morsels of his lustful longing. He would stare, when he thought you weren’t looking, at the way your heavy tits strained the lycra of your triangle top, and when you bent over, his eyes would scrape and claw for every curve of your plump ass before righting himself again before you caught him scavenging.
At one point, you pretended to fall asleep, letting your book fall limply out of your hand and onto the grass, making your mouth soft and slack, just to see what he would do. To your shock, he pulled out his phone and began to take pictures of you, quick and efficient, pocketing his device before he even looked at the results. His audacity was shocking. Your mind raced with all of the thoughts of what he might do with your images, of how he might touch himself thinking about you, hungering for you and your tender body.
A few minutes passed, and he continued to try and work, but it was futile. John started to walk over to you, moving through your shared backyard and making a steady advance on your position. As he got closer and closer, you tried to control your breathing, reminding yourself to be dead asleep, forcing your mind not to obsess over his enormous muscle-bound body or the dark fur that covered his skin, becoming denser and curling as it trailed below his belly button, pointing you to where you wanted to focus.
He stood a short distance away for a while, and he seemed to be locked in a silent battle with himself. The captain wanted to attack and retreat at the same time. All the while, you noticed him shaking his leg ever so slightly, bending the knee and widening his stance. But, his shifting wasn’t working, and to your absolute joy, he finally relented and had to use his hand to readjust his growing cock. He pulled the body of it up and over his left hip, lovingly squeezing the tip just a bit before letting it go. You marveled at his girth, praying that the outline in his pants was truly representative of the absolute monster he kept inside of them.
Your neighbor allowed himself to step forward. And again. Slowly, step by step, he closed the gap, his eyes never leaving your face, worrying that you would wake up to find him leering. Yet, he didn’t care enough to return to his side of the yard.
Shame, it seemed, was not a deterrent for his thirst.
When he was close enough to touch you, he knelt down, studying your face. Then, his eyes began to drink you in, gazing at your breasts as they hung slightly to the side, their round shapes being pulled by gravity into smooth teardrops of sensitive flesh. His hands fidgeted with the wooden handle of his rake he was holding, wanting to touch the silk of your skin and test its fineness.
Then, he trailed his vision along the midline of your belly, chewing on the inside of his lip as he studied your thickness. When he looked down at the join of your legs, staring at your fat pussy hidden under the thin fabric of your suit, his whole body sighed. You watched his bones sag and reset themselves, his jaw working through its hinge once and then twice as if he was chewing on cold mastic.
Just when you thought he would reach out to touch you, or maybe snap another picture, he bent down a little further and picked up your fallen book. As he crouched there beside you, he flipped a few pages back and forth until he seemed to find what he was looking for. A twitch of a smile pulled at his full mouth, and he laid the book back on the grass, open to the scene he wanted you to discover.
His eyes gave you one last look, wistful almost, and then he returned to his yard. Now, you just had to wait for him to look away for long enough that you could pretend to wake up from your nap. Luckily, he ducked into his shed for a moment, taking out new tools to use, and while he was busy organizing his equipment, you roused yourself from your farce.
You were soaking wet. You could feel the slide of your desire between your soft lips, and your mind was buzzing with adrenaline.
As casually as you could, you reached over and grabbed your book, tossing your bookmark into the page he’d kept for you, forcing yourself to wait until you were in the safety of your own home to see what he had wanted to show you.
You got up from your hammock and stretched, gathering up your belongings and making a slow but deliberate trek back indoors. When you noticed him looking over, you turned to wave, giving him what you hoped was a typical, neighborly smile. He smiled back but didn’t return the gesture, resting his hands on the handle of a long spade, watching you as you sealed yourself back indoors.
The moment you shut the door, you opened the book, desperate to read the scene he wanted you to see. It was a raunchy moment for the main characters with the hero burying his face between his paramour’s thighs, eating his fill of her. Just the thought of John Price wanting to perform this scene with you was enough to make you clench your knees together with lurid want. You let your hand slip over the top of your swimsuit bottoms, and you teased yourself to a quick, vicious orgasm right in the middle of your kitchen, sinking down to the floor in a wet, inglorious puddle.
The next few days passed without incident. You weren’t even sure if he was home. But, one afternoon, you were both getting the mail, and he was carrying in a long box. It was about half as tall as he was, and it didn’t look lightweight.
“Wow,” you raised your voice a bit to get his attention, “You’ve got quite the package.”
You hadn’t initially intended for the innuendo, but you weren’t mad about it. You even gave him a knowing smile, acknowledging the line. He chuckled, the sound of it creating a churning feeling deep in your core,
“Telescope. Your creek had a kingfisher in it last week, and I’m hoping to see him again.”
“Oh, cool,” you walked a little closer, making your conversation more intimate, pretending to be interested in birds for once in your life, “Is that a rare bird?”
His warm purr turned to a suggestive growl, soft and trapped in his throat, and the fire in his eyes made your blood run hot, but he wasn’t excited about birds. He was excited about you.
“Aye, the rarest,” he nodded, pointing up to his main bedroom’s balcony on the second level, “I think I’ve got a decent view from there. This thing comes with a camera attachment, so I’ll try to catch him for you.”
“That’s really awesome,” you grinned, noticing that his balcony also had a pretty damn good view of your own bedroom window, “I bet you’ll get some great shots. Can’t wait to see them.”
“You bet,” he grinned knowingly, dragging his huge package back inside.
That night, you watched him setting it all up, spying on him from your own bedroom window. He was fixing the telescope on your creek, making sure the angle was just right. So, you decided to make it worth his while.
In the purple dusk, you found yourself walking out into your backyard in nothing but a thin mesh cover-up. It was barely enough to be publicly decent, but as soon as it got wet, you knew it would show everything. It took all your power not to glance over your shoulder at him as you stepped into the creek, but you kept your cool. Face forward, sinking slowly into the water for a quick dip.
You settled into the stream, kneeling on the soft rocks, playing in the babbling waters, pretending to relax after a long day. You started skimming for pretty stones, leaning forward to wet the top of your cover-up, feeling the fabric cling to your peaked nipples, knowing they would be very much on display through the tissue-thin mesh.
Unable to stand it any longer, you dared to glance up at the balcony. There, sitting behind his brand new scope, was your hot neighbor, staring through the lens trained right on you. A rush of desire hit you like a drug, and you made yourself bravely gaze into the lens, peering through the dark glass, knowing he would see you looking.
Then, when he didn’t react, you pushed the envelope. You dropped the pretty rock you had in your palm and scooped up a handful of water between your hands, holding them together like a bowl. Then, you poured it on your neck, letting the cool liquid soak the rest of your top, making your garment entirely transparent and sticking to your body like latex.
Every moment that passed made you more brazen. You began to trace the outline of your collarbone, rubbing the side of your neck, pretending to massage away the stress.
Your eyes kept glancing to his spot, looking at him as he stared at you. This time, when you looked back, his body illuminated by his outdoor light, you saw something magical. His hand was stuck down his black, athletic shorts, and he was slowly jerking his cock back and forth, pleasuring himself as he watched you moonbathe in your stream.
Now, you locked eyes with the scope, and you turned your body towards him, making sure he knew that this show was for him. You moved your hands to your hanging breasts, circling them and pressing them together, holding them through the wet mesh. It felt so nice to squeeze them and feel the pleasure you were crafting, so you began to play with your nipples, plucking them and pinching the tips, being gentle and cruel, letting your eyes and mouth soften as you teased your own body.
You wondered if he was taking pictures or not. Maybe a video? You didn’t care. You wanted him to take them. You wanted him to take you, if he would have you.
When he saw evidence of your want, he pulled his cock free from his shorts, and now he was very clearly jerking off, using his precome to shine his shaft to a wet gleam. You wished you could taste it. You wanted to study the fullness of his head, suckling on the drooling tip, and you wanted to trace the veins of his shaft like rivers on a map, blue and full of his warm blood.
Just the thought of how his fat dick would feel inside of you was sending you over the edge. So, you sank one of your hands between your legs to relieve some tension, massaging your clit in frantic circles under the water. You must have gotten lost in your own ministrations, because when you snapped back to reality and focused on the balcony again, he was gone.
At first, your heart sank, disappointed that he was finished with your display. Then, you heard the slam of a door and looked down into his backyard. There he was, a tight white tee shirt stretching over his broad shoulders, his cockhead trapped in the elastic of his shorts, the outline of it visible as he walked, barefoot, straight towards you.
You stared at him in shock, not knowing what to do. He looked like he was in a rage. His brow was set in a determined line, and a frightened thrill writhed its way along your spine. Was he angry with you for being so indecent? For teasing him with your lewdness?
He said nothing as he approached, and you thought he would stop at the bank of the creek, but he didn’t. He came splashing right through the water, making his way right over to the spot where you were kneeling, reaching out and grabbing you tightly around your shoulders, lifting you out of the water in a wet, chaotic mess.
You were pressed against his body, getting his clothes all wet, gasping from the shock of his aggression. You started to protest, trying to get your footing, but his mouth silenced your words. John pressed his lips to yours in a ferocious kiss, invading you with his long tongue, and sucking on your bottom lip hard enough for it to sting.
He pulled away and began to bite and lick his way down your neck, stealing your breath and stumbling through the creek as he devoured you, marching you backwards, awkward and halting, all the way to the shallow near the bank. Then, just when you could feel the pebbles give way to the sand and mud of the shoal, you felt him shove you to the ground. You landed hard on your rump, gasping from the violence of it, trapped somewhere between terror and ecstasy.
“John, I wa–”
He fell to his knees and kissed your words away again, tasting you over and over, committing your flavor to memory, fisting your hair to control the way you kissed him back, stealing you from yourself like a thief.
You were being covered, inch by inch, with his heavy body, and he leaned over you, kissing and sucking and licking and biting whatever his mouth could reach. He moved to your nipple, suckling on you through the thin mesh of your cover-up, the warmth of his tongue a stark contrast to the chill of the wet fabric. He stayed there for as long as he wanted, groping and pinching your other breast as he sucked on you, making you whimper from the overstimulation. Then, he sat back on his heels, his knees still stuck in the shallow water of the creek, your bodies half-in and half-out of the span.
He was peering down at you and panting. You were both breathing hard, your chests heaving, staring at each other like a predator with its prey, not knowing which one you were but dying to be the latter.
John seemed like he was waiting for something, and when you saw his eyes move down your body to stare at your pussy, you knew what he wanted. So, very slowly, you opened yourself up to him, unfolding your legs from your center, blooming for him like a dew-soaked flower, ready to present your sticky nectar to him. The sigh of relief that rattled through his body made you want to come.
He fell to his chest, clutching your hips in his huge, strong hands, lifting you to his mouth as he began to eat you from the inside. His tongue prodded and curled, searching for your favorite spots, finding them with a suspicious ease. Licking across your clit, his mouth created wet, pornographic noises, and he groaned as he ate, unable to hold back his expression of pleasure with every brain-breaking suck and lick.
When you cried out from the immediate response your body sent slashing through your belly, he looked up from his work, but he didn’t stop. His eyes, pale blue and feral, caught yours and something inside of them forced you to stay on him, unable to look away, trapped like a rabbit in a snapping snare.
His steady, forceful suckling dragged you to an orgasm, making you tremble and wriggle against his jaws, your body sliding in the muddy bank of the stream. You felt him pull away, and you thought he was done, the spell broken by your keening completion. But, he stripped off his shirt and raked the band of his shorts under his enormous sack, presenting his engorged prick to you like a present.
Looking down at you, his eyes hooded, the pupils blown, you knew he was waiting again. Waiting for you to let him in. You were already spread open for him like a wanton whore, barely clothed and filthy from the ground. So, you reached between your thighs to cradle the underside of his shaft, petting him gently, tugging him forward in invitation.
His nonverbal viciousness was making you feel like you were under his spell, so you dared not speak lest it could be broken. Wordlessly, you pulled him toward your dripping hole, coaxing him in, letting him know he was more than welcome in your body’s sacral embrace.
A deep, demonic moan fell from his lips as he let his heavy cockhead slot itself between your lips. You took your hand away, returning to your breasts, playing with yourself just as you had in his telescope, letting him see you bring yourself pleasure at your delicate peaks.
Hungry, he thrust himself forward through your folds, slipping in your wetness, the weeping slit of his tip bullying your clit with every forward motion. Back and forth, he slid through you, slicking himself in your flesh, using himself like a toy in your sensitive petals.
You couldn’t help but whine for him. It felt mind-numbingly delicious to be played with in this way, and his rocking undulations drove you to the point of madness. You began to hump his shaft like a naughty dog, eager for everything he was giving you and more. His cock was big enough to be a challenge, but you were up for it. You didn’t care if it hurt. You wanted to feel him invading you, claiming you like an animal out here in the stream.
Finally, when John couldn’t wait any longer, he allowed his head to slip down and notch in the pliant sling of your quim, moaning just as desperately as you had been as he felt you swallow his tip inside of your hole.
“Nhgh,” he clenched his teeth as he pressed his hips forward, his hand grabbing your hip hard enough to bruise, holding you in place so you couldn’t escape him, as if you wanted to, “Bloody hell, you’re so wet for me.”
You cried out as he pried you open, his heavy shaft too thick for your unpracticed slit,
“John… it’s so big… oh, God…”
His grimace morphed into a smile, and he slid himself out before pumping forward again, trying to fit his thick rod into your cunt,
“Thought you could just give me a fuckin’ show. Thought I’d just watch, that I’d let you get away with it.”
He shoved himself forward, forcing a shrill scream from your lips, laying himself over you and trapping you between his arms. As he began to thrust himself into you, dragging himself out and punching himself back in, you felt hot tears sting your eyes with their salt, overwhelmed by the blinding pleasure you were experiencing.
“Fuckkkkk,” you watched as his eyes rolled back in his head as he cursed at the feeling of your body clenching around him, stuck in the feeding-bleeding cycle of your shared bliss, “Rub that pussy for me, love.”
You obeyed, following his eyes as he watched your fingers make their little ovals in the plushness of your flesh. He groaned, pleased, and set himself to his task. As he fucked you, he began in steady, pumping thrusts. You could have kept time with his momentum, shocked by his consistency. He never faltered, he never weakened; he simply fed himself to you, in and out, stuffing you full of his hard length and rubbing at your softest, deepest places.
Between his steady sex and your familiar touch, you were falling over yourself in an embarrassingly short time, your pussy already primed for pleasure, horny beyond belief, tingling and eager to throb around his shaft in celebration. He bent to kiss you on your sensitive neck, sucking against your skin, mean enough to leave a mark, whispering a chaotic mess of messages to you as he was lost in the thrall of fucking you into the dirt,
“Feel you wantin’ to come, pretty bird. Sing for me, yeah? Let me hear you scream for me.”
This couldn’t be real. His filthy talk was pulling you deeper and deeper into your mounting orgasm, and you felt the line snap. Your body began to tense up, your muscles tight and shaking, and you could felt the rush of your come coating you both from the inside. You were feeling completely unbound, and you had to stop touching your clit. It was too much, but he wasn’t having it,
“Don’t stop. Don’t… C’mere.”
He shoved your hand away and took over for you, fucking you and rubbing you, refusing to let you escape from his efforts. His touch flung you back into an orgasmic whirlpool, making you dizzy, tricking you into thinking you had finally stopped coming and then proving you wrong. He was dragging them out of you, ragged and nasty, moaning from your screams and from the gripping, pulsating tightness of your pussy.
“That’s it. Such a pretty song. Keep singin’ for me, love. Makes me wanna fuckin’ fill you up with my come.”
“I’m… John, please… Mmngh!” You fell apart, your orgasm turning you into a brainless little fucktoy for him, your body betraying you, defecting to his side, willing to listen to his every command.
He took his hand away, and you sighed in relief until you realized he had new plans for you. He pulled away, sitting back and flipping you over with frightening ease, helping you to your knees before feeding himself back inside of you from behind. Your chest was pressed down into the mud, the cold ground stinging your swollen nipples, the smell of the wet dirt heady in your nose.
“Pretty bird. Look at this fat fuckin’ arse,” he grunted, slapping you hard on your right cheek.
“Angh!” You cried out.
“Perfect,” he smiled, showing you his sharp teeth as you stared at him over your shoulder.
He hunched himself over your body, humping his fat prick into you like a dog, grinding himself into your hole with wet, milking noises filling the night air as he fucked you in the dark. John was pumping himself hard enough in you that you thought you might bruise. You knew your pussy was helpless to his invasion, and it trembled with every thrust, trying its best to flood you with your own lubrication, doing everything it could to help you cope.
Frantic, John wrapped his hand around the base of your neck, holding you beneath him, pressing his hips even closer so he could reach his crown to new depths. The angle forced you to arch your back and he rewarded you for it, rubbing his hand along your ribs before reaching under your cover-up to hold your breast in his palm, gripping you fiercely.
“Holy hell, this tight little cunt’s gonna make me come, baby,” he purred into your ear, bending himself over you, increasing his pace and his power, watching the pleasure-packed tears roll down your cheeks, “You want it? You want my fuckin’ come? Want me to put it right here?”
You felt his hand reach around your leg so that he could press his fist against your womb, making your body feel every inch of him even tighter inside of you, allowing you to know exactly just how deep he was rutting into you.
“Please, John… I need…” You tried to answer, but you were fuck-drunk and dumb. You were nothing more than his cocksleeve. You were made for him to pump his load into you. That was all you wanted. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else even existed. Your whole world fell away, replaced by your neighbor’s pounding rod.
“Tha’s it, pretty bird,” he rolled his fist against your lower belly in deep, massaging circles, flinging you into a rolling orgasm, “The louder you scream, the harder I’ll fuckin’ come.”
His groaning turned into animalistic grunting, shouting, growling despair, and he sank himself down into you, flush with his girthy base, fully sheathed in your hot core. You could feel him filling you with his creamy orgasm, letting rope after rope shoot into your body, trapped inside by his thick root.
John’s breath was hot against your cheek, and he kissed his way down your body as he pulled himself away. The long retreat of his shaft made you feel like your soul was being ripped from your chest, and the wet, gooey noise of his spend sliding out of you turning your heart inside out. You collapsed to the ground, not caring in the least about the mud, nor its cold, clinging, filth; you just breathed and trembled, used and spent.
You thought he would leave you where he found you, his cruel love shaming him into fleeing such a scene of terrible waste. But, he didn’t. He shucked off his shorts and pulled your cover-up off of you, letting it slap down into the shoal. Then, he scooped you up in his arms and waded with you back into the creek, laying you in the running water, black with the night’s dark sky above you, cold against your sensitive flesh.
You shivered, curling into him, and you felt his hands using the clear water to wash you clean. He was clearing the sand out of your hair and off of your skin, gently as he could, caring for you like a precious pet, baptizing you in his own praises. Telling you how good you were for him, how you were his pretty bird, how he would take care of everything.
When he was done, he lifted you out of the stream and carried you to the yard, heading for his backdoor. He nudged it open and lifted you all the way up the stairs, single-minded on his mission. You were in and out of consciousness, too weak to protest, and when he finally lay you in his own bed, he wrapped you in a towel he pulled from his bathroom, using another to dry himself off as well.
You groaned, trying to get up, but he lay himself on top of you, fidgeting with the covers under you were under him and the sheet, locked against his naked body.
“I should go… “ You whispered, trying to fight the sleep that was seeping into your mind.
You felt the prod of his cock, hard once more, and you whined from the absurdity of your sore hole being asked to stretch again for him.
He pushed himself inside with little resistance this time, and started the process again, taking your primed body like you were made for it. Like it was your one, true purpose.
“I can’t,” you whimpered, panting and curling against him, “Don’t make me come again.”
“Shh,” John said, kissing you quiet, “Hush, love. I’m not fuckin’ finished.”
You couldn’t remember how many orgasms he had pulled from you, but when you woke the next morning, his arm wrapped tight around your breasts, you felt like you had transcended. You were on a whole new plane of existence, and although you were bruised, used, and soaking in his milky seed, you were well and truly satisfied.
As your eyes adjusted to the light, you saw a picture of yourself come into view. You were on his nightstand, dressed in your white bikini, pretending to sleep with your book by your side. It was trapped beneath a pane of glass, gleaming in the dawn, surrounded by a proud frame.
That’s weird, you thought. Framing it was a little odd. But, then, you saw the rest. All over his wall, the one that faced your bedroom, pictures of you covered the sheetrock like wallpaper. You stopped breathing. All you could see were pictures of you from every different angle and position. Some were of you getting dressed in your bedroom, and some were of you shopping at the store. Some were close portraits, and some were taken in places you didn’t even remember. They were everywhere, floor to ceiling, pasted very meticulously to the plaster. And you were in every one.
You hadn’t realized he was awake yet, but you knew he had been watching you examine his gallery when his palm covered your mouth stopping you in the middle of your scream.
