by Loki Renard
Tom rises over me, his muscular body covering mine. He is so different. Hard where I am soft. Furred, where I am smooth. I reach up and curl my fingers in the pelt of his chest hair, using my grip to pull him down for a desperately passionate kiss.
“Please…”
Tom
She’s begging for my cock, and I cannot resist her. Her beautiful wet, virginal pussy is spread beneath me, I can feel her wetness spreading over me every time she humps up toward me, grinding her sex against my hardness. There isn’t a man alive who could resist this kind of invitation, and even though there’s a small voice somewhere in the depths of my mind which says I should be resisting, everything else says yes.
Do this. Take her. She's yours
I look into her eyes and I see a yearning I’ve never seen before in the eyes of any woman I’ve been with. She has an appetite for me which touches me somewhere in my soul. She doesn’t just want my dick, though she wants that bad. She wants me. She needs me inside her, and I know denying her that would be cruelty beyond cruelty.
Electra
“You,” he says, his lips against mine, scratching the rough parts of his beard over my skin. “Are very special to me. You are worth more than you can imagine, and this is something we will share forever.”
I feel him arch back, and then the head of his cock presses against the entrance of my body. I spread around him, my sex opening to him. My body knows exactly how to claim a cock, and I feel my hips aligning with his so he slides inside me, finds the tight painful spot where my body is not quite prepared. There’s a moment of tearing, loss, and then that pain gives way to a feeling of fullness and completion. The doctor is in.
Tom holds himself there, keeping his eyes on my face, watching my every reaction. “Are you alright?”
I nod quickly, breathlessly. I can feel his pubic bone pressing against my clit and I can feel my body gripping him tight. I want him with every part of my flesh and all my soul. My thighs wrap around his back as he starts a slow surging motion, rolling against me, filling me and then withdrawing again, giving me all his flesh.
“Oh my god…" the gasp escapes me in a single breath.
“Are you okay?” He strokes my hair back from my head and looks at me with such tenderness and concern I feel myself almost start to cry. I love how he feels inside me. I love his cock stretching me open. It’s as if a void that has never been filled has suddenly been filled.
“Yes,” I moan. “Oh yes.”
He is being so careful with me. When he starts to move, there’s an ache down there, a loss and then a return. He is powerful and he is sensitive, and his cock feels so fucking amazing, except when he pulls free completely and then rubs the head of it over my clit, teasing that bud, leaving me empty, craving his return.
Tom rolls over and puts me up atop him. His big hands wrap around my waist and he holds me up, helping me rise up high enough for his cock to meet my pussy again, spear inside me with one long, slow thrust. It is different than being on my back, now I thrust myself down, reach below to support myself on the thick slabs of muscle which make up his chest and ride him slowly, letting my pussy adjust one stroke at a time.
“C’mere," he beckons, crooking his finger to encourage me to lay down on his chest. I rest my body atop him, one of his hands caressing my neck and holding me down, the other reaching for my ass, spreading me wide as his hips pump up and down, thrusting his flesh inside me with strokes which grow in speed and intensity until I know what it feels like to be fucked.
I am free. I am the most free I have ever been as he holds me firmly in place and unleashes his powerful body on my smaller frame. I forget that I am a freak. I am nothing more or less than a woman making love with a man, one whose passion for me tells me that I am desirable, and that I am cared for more deeply than I ever thought possible. Tom’s caring intention is in every move, how careful he is not to pull my hair, or trap my limbs uncomfortably. He treats me like a queen to be worshipped, even as he desecrates my virginity with grunting thrusts which make me rise into the air until he clamps down on my ass and holds me in place to take each of those powerful pistoning strokes.
“Tommmmmmmm,” I wail his name in his ear, some vicious instinct making me want to latch on to him with my teeth. I find his neck with my mouth and I suck and I bite until he slaps my bottom hard enough to make me release.
“Naughty girl,” he growls, following it up with a rough stroke which sends a jolt of pure ecstasy though me. The harder he does it, the more I like it. Our bodies slam against one another, my wetness making us slide as we mate with increasing urgency until I am wailing almost non-stop, grinding my wet pussy over his hard cock as he slaps my bottom and lectures me.
“Such a naughty girl. A fuck hungry little brat,” he murmurs into my ear, jackhammering into me. I didn't think it was possible, but every one of those dirty words makes my inner walls grip him tighter.
“Mine,” he snarls, tightening his hand on the back of my neck. “This pussy is mine, now, you know that, don’t you.”
Oh fuck. Oh fucckk. I feel myself start to peak. My toes curl, my legs shake, my pussy gets wetter still, making the most lewd sounds as Tom slams inside me, going all the way deep and then pulling out only to stroke roughly in again almost immediately. I am his. I am his in every way. He owns my pussy. He has my heart. And now I am flooding him with my desire because I am coming all over him.
“Yes, yes…” he urges me on, palm slapping my ass, cock pounding my pussy, his pubic bone grinding my clit with every stroke and his other hand keeping my head captive, tugging at the roots of my hair while I orgasm with complete abandon and more intensity than I thought possible.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ohhh….”
He pulls me off his cock roughly, and for a second I feel the humiliating sting of rejection, but it is only for a moment. He flips me back over onto my back, and unleashes a torrent of cum over my belly and the hair at the top of my pussy, his fist gripping his cock, his head thrown back in male pleasure. I watch, enthralled as he covers me, hot drips of his cum running down between my legs.
When he has control of his faculties again, he leans down and kisses me deeply. “You were a very good girl,” he praises me. He reaches down and rubs his seed into my clit, marking me with his scent, giving me another set of trembling little climaxes. He kisses, taps and teases me, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths as he recovers from the exertion of fucking me into happy oblivion.
We almost don’t hear the sound of the intercom springing to life. But we both hear the steady tones of somebody trying to sound like they didn’t just see absolutely everything we did together.
“Doctor Ares, the Head would like to see you.”
“Fuck,” Tom swears, his cock still erect as he leaps out of bed like the sheets just caught on fire.
“Uh oh. Somebody is in trouble," I smirk. “Naughty doctor, fucking his patient.”
“She deserved it,” he winks as he pulls his shirt on. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Oh I won’t, I’m a prisoner here, remember?”
What I don’t add as he’s rushing out the door, is that he is too.
Trouble
Tom
“So,” the Head says. “You’ve already had intercourse with the woman in your care, not twenty four hours after being put in charge.”
She’s not mincing words. Her expression is fierce, almost a little personally offended. She turns to me, her arms folded over her chest, her power suit all the more powerful for being worn with a glare.
“I have,” I admit. There is no point lying about it. We were clearly being watched the entire time.
“Do you think that is ethical?”
I think she’s trying to intimidate me, but I refuse to be intimidated.
“I think ethics have very little place here. I think she wanted it, and so did I.”
“But she is in a position of dependence.”
“Are you going to take her from m
e?” I cut to the chase. I want to know what happens next.
“I’m not.”
“So what is this meeting about, Head? Are you asking us to refrain from intimacy?”
“… No,” she smiles. I don't understand the smile. I don’t understand anything that’s happening here. This woman seems to enjoy messing with me, but I don’t think she has time to mess with people. There’s some point to this, even though it feels pointless.
“You just wanted me to know that you knew,” I say flatly.
“I’m warning you, Doctor Ares. You have a task to do.”
“A vague, nebulous task of civilizing and socializing Electra. Sex could easily be considered part of that.”
“Yes, I suppose it could. It could also be considered taking advantage of a young woman who doesn’t know better.”
“If she doesn’t know better, it is because she has been kept captive most of her life. She has needs and instincts, both of which have been frustrated for far too long. You tell me she’s feral, wild, that she can’t go out into the world, and then you drag me in here and lecture me when we do what is most natural. In one day, she’s come further than she has in years, I’d bet.”
I don’t know what the woman wants to achieve with this interview. Very possibly she just wants to let me know that I’m not truly in control, and that Electra isn’t really mine. But that’s already untrue. Electra is mine, and if the Head tries to come between us, she’s going to find out that I don’t give up what I’ve taken easily. My girl’s life has been one tragedy after the other, but I’m going to make damn sure it improves from here on out.
“You should be careful, Doctor Ares,” the Head says. “I do not find insubordination amusing in deed, or tone, for that matter.”
“You asked me to help her. Let me help her.”
“Not with your penis, Doctor Ares.”
“You got in trouble, didn’t you?”
Electra knows what happened as soon as I walk through the door. I suppose it is written all over my face, and she knows the way this place works as well as any of us do. If there’s something you were enjoying, it will be used as a pressure point, taken away from you… it occurs to me I’m thinking the way Electra would. Maybe she’s growing on me, getting inside me just the same way I got inside her.
“I’m a grown man,” I tell Electra. “I don’t get in trouble.”
“I knew you did. It was the sex, wasn’t it? I knew she wouldn’t like that.” Electra can’t stop grinning. “Did she try and ban it?”
“She did.”
“We are going to bone so hard,” Electra smiles, coming toward me, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
“We’re going to abide by her wishes until we can get you out of here,” I say, my voice lowered as she presses her face to mine.
“I don’t want to. I’m tired of her wishes. What about my wishes?”
“We’ll have our wishes soon enough, don’t you worry.”
I shouldn’t be making promises to her, but I can’t help it.
Electra
“You can’t live like this, can you?”
I can sense his frustration in the way he tries to hold me, then hesitates, then grips me close. He’s starting to understand what it is like to live my life, to feel as though every impulse he has is cut off, every freedom taken away. He has joined me in my jail.
“I can live like this,” he says, his eyes warm as he looks down at me. “I will live like this as long as it takes. I meant it when I said I was going to be there for you. A little lecture from the Head doesn’t change that.”
“We’ll see. It sucks being me. You have no experience being me. But you’re starting to get some.”
“Mhm. We’ve got other things to work on.”
“We do?”
“Uh huh. There’s laundry.”
“What the fuck is laundry?”
Tom
Laundry. That’s the distraction we need.
Electra’s entire life, clothes have been brought to her and removed from her, but she knows nothing about where they come from, or what needs to be done to maintain them. I want to teach her the basics, so one day, if she finds herself on her own, she’ll be able to look after herself. Or maybe do my socks. Kidding. Mostly.
She follows me willingly into the laundry room in our little pretend apartment. I think of it as being fake, but it’s real enough in the sense we’re actually living in it. The place has already taken a fair bit of damage. She’s tough on things and thinks nothing of spilling drinks or food. The concept of cleaning up after herself is completely foreign. I’m still working on that, there’s a lot to cover in the general lesson plan of ‘how not to be a feral little animal’, except in the bedroom, where it is actually a lot of fun.
“This is a washing machine,” I say, opening the lid of the tub.
“Watching machine,” she repeats, eyeing the device with concern. “Why is it watching me?”
“Washing machine,” I clarify. “For cleaning clothes.”
“Oh.”
She shrugs and I can tell she’s lost interest.
“You do need to pay attention,” I say. “This is an important skill to have.”
“Is it? Why?”
“Because the alternative is being a filthy little brat,” I say calmly. “And you’re not going to be delivered clean clothes forever. You’re going to have to learn how to make them clean yourself. You’re going to have to learn to look after yourself in many ways.”
She cocks her head to the side and looks at me. “You’re a doctor. You save people’s lives.”
“Right…”
“And yet they have you here, teaching me how to clean clothes. What did you do to piss the Head off?”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah. Okay. They have you babysitting me. They’re fucking with you.”
“Because you’re important, believe it or not.”
“I’m really not,” she smirks. “I’m a distraction. They’re keeping you away from something, Doc. That bitch doesn’t do anything without a secret reason.”
“You think she has an ulterior motive?”
“I think she’s got her most dangerous and most useless operative being given home care lessons by her base doctor, and I think that’s too stupid for there not to be something else going on.”
“You could be right,” I agree. “But that’s not going to get you out of doing laundry. Now, pay attention. You put the laundry in here, and then a scoop of powder…”
“How did you learn to do this?”
I have to think back to answer that question. “I guess it was my mom,” I say. “When I turned ten, she said it was time to start cleaning up after myself. She showed me how to do laundry, cook, clean…”
“That must have been nice.”
“Actually, I hated it at the time, but she was right. All those skills came in handy as I got older, and they made it possible for me to get by in the world.”
“I could always steal new clothes when I wanted them.”
“No, you couldn’t. If I find you’ve been breaking the law, you’ll be in big trouble, young lady.”
Electra
I laugh at him. Breaking the law? What law? The law of this place? The law of the world?
“Something funny?” He raises that dark brow at me and I feel a quiver low in my stomach. I think I know what law he’s really talking about. His law. His rules. They’re the only ones that really exist, the only ones I can really come into contact with. No other rules matter to me. Whatever exists outside this place isn’t real to me, and what exists inside it I reject. This man is the only one to ever make me care about what might be right and what might be wrong.
“No, I mean,” I shrug. “What does the laundry powder taste like?”
“Soap,” he says dryly. “Why are you asking?”
“I don’t know. It looks like salt or sugar or something.”
He draws in a deep breath. “Don’t put anythin
g in your mouth I haven’t told you is food, okay? There are cleaning products you won’t want to ingest. They could make you very ill.”
“Isn’t it obvious what’s food and what isn’t?”
“No,” he says. “Not always.”
“So people in the world go around just knowing what is poison and what isn’t?”
“Yes. They learn the difference when they’re young. You have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Okay, but can they kick someone’s head off their shoulders?”
“No. Most of them can’t.”
“Exactly,” I say, feeling like I’ve redeemed a little of my honor. “I’m not useless.”
“Oh, I know you’re not useless,” Tom says with one of those smiles that makes me feel like he’s patronizing me. “It’s just new…”
“I’ll learn it all in good time,” I say, rolling my eyes and copying his voice as much as I can.
“Don’t mock me, brat,” he growls playfully, swatting my butt.
I’ve never really played before. There was never time and everyone who dealt with me treated me like I was a clear and present danger, because I am. Tom doesn't care. He treats me like a normal person and because of that, I’m starting to work out what a normal person might be.
I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him. He’s become my reference point to the world. I watch him to see how he reacts to things. I do things as he shows me. Sometimes he talks about going out into the city and I smile because he’s smiling even though I am actually very afraid of the world he tells me about, the world I see on the television shows he has cajoled me into watching.
His touch makes my body react with that fire I feel whenever we are close. Tom Ares is the incarnation of pure hotness. His body is hard, his eyes are kind and his hand is firm. What else could a girl need?
“I want to touch you,” I say, brushing my fingers up his arm.
The expression in his eyes changes to one of desire. We’ve only been together once, and then she forbade it. But if he’s anything like me, that’s only made him want it more. Being in close proximity to Tom, knowing what his body can do to me, how his flesh can pierce mine, enter me fully, make me experience paroxysms of pure ecstasy, and not being able to indulge in that pleasure might be the Head’s greatest torment yet.
