by Renard, Loki
“I need it,” I whisper.
One of his hands unclenches to stroke my hair back from my face, and his lips capture mine in another kiss.
“Stay there,” he says, pulling away and standing up. I watch as his perfectly muscled body prowls the room, picking out the items he intends to bring into play. The whip is one of them, the coiled dark leather a foreboding sight. He has rope too, coiled hemp in the other hand, and he puts a crop between his teeth.
The sight of him striding back toward me, green eyes flashing, teeth bared in preparation to devour me, makes my pussy clench in anticipation. Yes, oh fuck yes.
The whip and crop are set to the side. He brings the rope to bear, encircling my left wrist first and drawing it behind my back, flipping me onto my stomach and pulling my other hand behind my back. It was not that long ago that I was restrained in a terrifying way, but in Vicious’ hands my body knows it is safe and my reaction is one of elevated desire, the increase in my heart rate feeling like excitement rather than cold fear.
He wraps my wrists firmly behind my back, his hands practiced. He has done this before. He has trussed women and taken them. Did they feel as helplessly aroused as I do now? Were they also so under his spell that when he ran rope around their midsection and up to their tits, they allowed him to create a harness of hemp without so much as a whimper? Or am I the first to submit so easily, my body relaxing progressively more in direct correlation with the completion of my trussing?
The rope is hypnotic, sliding smoothly over my skin, turning my body into the same kind of prisoner my mind already is. Time after time, it coils around my flesh anew, encircling each of my breasts separately, presenting them to his gaze and touch, my nipples hardening simply at his heated look.
“You are so pretty,” he growls softly. “So innocent, my sweet little Kitty. I will defile you. I will destroy some part of you that you don’t yet know you have. You won’t miss it until it is gone. Are you absolutely certain that you want me to take you?”
He asks the question as his fingers drift between my thighs, the briefest, lightest of touches stirring my desire.
“Yes… please, yesss…”
“Twice you have said yes,” he notes, keeping his rope moving. Now he lays me on my back, pushes my knees up and spreads them at the same time, putting me into a lewd and vulnerable position, then securing me in that way, more coils of rope making my knees stay open, putting the petals of my pussy on display. When I look down, I see my pussy already puffy with desire, my inner lips exposed, a gleaming wetness coating my sex.
He has me wound up in a frenzy, needing him so badly that I would do anything. But he is not in any kind of hurry. He takes his time with me, securing me just as he wants me, legs open, breasts up, pussy on display.
When I am presented just right Vicious stands at the end of the bed, looking at his handiwork, his eyes roaming my body. His gaze alone could make me cum.
I want him to touch me so badly. I cannot take this distance between us. I need his body over mine. I need his cock inside me. My eyes are locked on that dick, standing thick and erect against his stomach. Holy fuck. I’ve never wanted any man like this. I didn’t even know it was possible to want someone this way. It’s a full body desire, a yearning and a need which makes me ravenous.
Vicious picks up the crop.
I had almost forgotten about that.
With a smirk, he runs the flat leather tongue over the sensitive skin of my inner legs, then drifts it almost casually over my pussy to the other thigh. Back and forth the leather drifts, teasing my pussy in a devastating manner until I let out a long, low moan of pure need.
“Please… ow!”
I speak and the crop flicks lightly against my lips, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to teach me that he wants silence. He hasn’t said a word, but his eyes and his crop tell me everything I need to know. Only obedience will earn me pleasure.
The bonds hold me securely, but I cannot stop myself from squirming. My body needs to be in motion, my hips have a mind of their own, arching and grinding, presenting the slick slit of my pussy to him, enticing him to thrust inside.
The crop lands against my pussy again, the leather slapping against my outer lips, catching both of them with a hot sting. It is not hard enough to bring real pain. This is the domain of sensation, a dancing series of slaps which travel up and down the length of my slit with precision and artful touch, a little softer now, and then harder, sharper. My pussy is being spanked and I am moaning for more.
Vicious has taken me to a place where resistance is not only futile, it is utterly undesirable. I sink into submission. I relax against the rope. I give him what he wants, let him make his mark on the softest, most sensitive part of me.
“You’re mine,” he says, his voice a deep bass vibration passing through my flesh just like the little strikes of the crop. “You’ve always been mine, Kitty. From the moment I first saw you, this moment was inevitable.”
He speaks the truth. I cannot resist him, because it is more than simple sex which draws us. I am attracted to him like the moth who dances for the moon. I have bounced against many incandescent imitations before, burned myself and spiraled to the ground, singed and miserable, but Vicious is the real thing, and so I swirl in the great skies of our attraction, my every move, thought, and breath for him.
The crop makes a wet sound as it taps above my clit. I have made it messy. My sex is leaking desire and I don’t know how long he will keep this torment up, but I know I will endure it gladly.
“You are such a good girl.” He praises me and my heart sings.
“Please… sir…”
His smile grows broader. “You remembered to call me sir, finally,” he drawls, tossing the crop to the side and crawling over to me, using the rope around my spread thighs as grips to pull my exposed sex to him.
“I’m going to fuck you now, Kitty,” he growls roughly, his voice more English than ever as he rises between my legs, his cock rampant against his belly. I can’t believe he is mine to have. I can’t believe I am his, that he wants me. New York is full of girls like me, but there is only one Vicious.
“Do you want this?” He rests the thick, heavy weight of his dick against my lower lips. “I promise you, Kitty. It will break you.”
He can’t break me. It’s not possible. I am stronger than I have ever been in his arms, freer than I ever imagined in his ropes. For a third time, he makes me ask for him. He has done many things to me against my will, but this will not be one of them.
In the interlude between his question and my answer, he runs the head of his cock slowly down the length of my slit. Feeling him there, hot, hard, so fucking rampant and ready makes my entire body quiver with need. I am shaking again, but this time it’s not terror which gives me the trembles. It’s him. Needing him. Wanting him.
Those green eyes lock on me, and I am lost in their gaze. He is beautiful. More than I can say. Right now, in this lust filled desperation, it is as if he is a demi-god, sent to me from some twisted deity to fill me up.
“Please…” I whisper the word as the head of his cock finds the opening of my body. He is thick and he is diamond hard as he leans over me, his eyes capturing mine, his mouth covering my lips as his cock sinks inside me, one slow inch at a time.
I wondered how it would be the first time we had sex. I thought it would be rougher than this. I thought he was holding back so he could use penetration as a punishment, and that one day he would tear into me, but for once there is nothing punitive in his actions or his energy. He is acting on the same pure animal desire which animates me as my pussy grips his cock, drawing him deeper and deeper inside me. I can feel his lust, but I can also feel that impeccable self-control, that iron will which makes him the true master of himself and everyone else.
“You’re soaked, Kitty,” he moans in my ear. I can feel it, and I can hear it as he pulls free from my pussy and plunges back in, my wetness making an obscene sound in the quiet of the ro
om as he sets up a rhythm of strokes stretching my inner walls perfectly wide, demanding that my body take every inch of him. His cock feels incredible, bigger than what I am used to, and wielded expertly with thrusts which come from agile hips.
I cannot touch him. My hands are kept safe behind my back. But he touches me all over, his hands cupping my rope tied breasts as his dick sluices inside me.
I’m used to quick, desperate rutting and humping, but Vicious plunges inside me, his big hands spreading my legs even wider, my pussy gripping him with a desperation which makes pleasure rip through me. I’ve never needed a man like this. I’ve never trusted a man like this. I’ve never given myself so completely to anyone, thrown my inhibitions to the wind. I’ve never let anyone just have me, do with me as they will.
Vicious pulls out, throws me over onto my stomach, my face pressed against the sheets until I turn my head to the side in order to breathe as his cock sears back inside me. His teeth are on the back of my neck and his lust lives up to his moniker. It is vicious. It is brutal, but he has prepared me for it and my body matches the intensity of his fucking with a wet grip which makes him grunt and swear and growl.
I scream my pleasure as his powerful, narrow hips slam down against my ass. I can feel previous punishments reignite. The touch of his teeth, the grip of his ropes, the pounding of his cock reminds me that even in this moment of sensual intimacy, he is always dominant.
Usually that dominance makes me feel small in comparison, but right now, I feel it as a strength and a power we both share. He is a beast, but so am I. He has broken me down and made me like him. He has made this perfect surrender everything I need.
When he pulls out and pushes the head of his cock against my anus, I gasp. Wrong hole. Wrong. Fucking. Hole. But he doesn’t move away, mumble some boyish apology and put it back where I want it. He pushes more firmly, makes it utterly clear that this is no mistake.
“Let me in, Kitty,” he purrs softly. “If you want me to fuck you, I am going to take both your holes.”
He’s filthy. He’s perverted. He’s using the lubrication from my pussy to help ease the head of his cock into my bottom. I am tight, and the ring of muscle doesn’t want to give way, but Vicious keeps one hand between my shoulder blades, holding me in place as he inflicts more hot stinging sensation on my tender flesh, slapping my exposed ass with his hand, the ropes beneath my cheeks making them the perfect targets for his hard palm.
When he pulled out of my pussy, my orgasm was imminent. Now it is simmering with every rub of my sensitive clit against the rope which he yanks loose from my hips and pulls up between my thighs
I feel his cock penetrating that dark, tight little hole. I feel the stretch and the ache of muscle giving reluctant way. He’s inside me and going deeper, he’s making me submit all over again, and with every gasp and panted breath I feel myself falling for him all the more because this is incredible.
Slowly, but so desperately deliberately, he slides into my ass and back out again. More lubricant is added until my passage is smooth and greasy and to his liking and then he pins me there and fucks me his way, long strokes which take my ass and turn it into his place of pleasure. My pussy is leaking desire all over the sheets, my clit tingling with that intensity which proceeds orgasm. The rope rides against the sensitive nub, punishing it for its wicked needs, but still the little bud persists with her orgasmic intent. Vicious keeps me on the verge, using me, taking me, giving me what I wanted and so much more until my toes curl and I cum with him deep in my ass.
It’s too fast. It’s too much. It emerges from me in a shrieking scream - and it does nothing to stop him. He’s not finished. And neither am I. One clitoral climax is not enough. He reaches beneath me and his fingers begin to tease another orgasm from me, his dick still buried deep in my ass, his mouth on my neck, kisses and bites all the same thing, pleasure and pain becoming one rolling sensation which sweeps me away into the throbbing, pounding rough fucking crescendo of our love.
On and on, I am fucked long and hard and rough, my clit caught between his fingers, my ass pounded to his aggressive orgasm which sends hot seed pumping into my hole, his animal cry of release matching mine as we both give into one final climax which leaves me weak and shaking and wrapped up so tightly in his arms.
He pulls me close and he whispers soft things, gentle things, loving things into my exhausted ears.
It’s done. It’s over. Now there is no part of me that isn’t his. He gently unwinds the ropes from my skin, but his bonds stay firmly wrapped around me. I will feel them forever. I belong to Vicious. I’ve finally accepted that all the way to my core. Now there’s nothing left to do but give in to the second strongest instinct I have: sleep.
11
Vicious
Orgasm recedes like madness fading, and in my newly sober state I know one thing:
I shouldn’t have fucked her.
That was a mistake.
One I cannot undo now.
I tell myself she earned it, even if that is true, I hadn’t. I tell myself it’s what she needed. I tell myself a hundred lies, but unlike Kitty, I don’t believe them. What I just did was selfish. It might very well be the most fucked up thing I have ever done. Perhaps the most fucked up thing I will ever do.
Laying next to me, snoring softly, Kitty is so soft, so precious. Her body was like silk, her passion so intense I stopped resisting the beast inside me and I unleashed myself on her. The one small mercy is having found a hole to cum in that wasn’t her pussy. That cunt of hers was seducing me into dropping a hot load inside her and destroy both our lives in one fell swoop.
I lie there, listening to her sleep, calling myself a hundred names inside my head as she slumbers, her bottom gently leaking my cum. I should clean her up, but I don’t want to wake her, and she can shower in the morning.
I stay with her until I’m sure she’s out for the night and then I get up. I have not earned the repose of the innocent, as she has.
Heading out to the balcony, I light a cigarette. It’s been a hell of a day.
“About time.”
An arch voice greets me. It’s Coco, sitting cross legged and elegant in one of my outdoor dining chairs. Behind her, Shadow is leaning against the wall, just barely discernible from the darkness which surrounds him. They both have cocktails in hand, though Coco is obviously enjoying hers more. A cocktail in Shadow’s spindly hand is as out of place as a diamond encrusted jar of lube. They just don’t go together.
“Excellent work, Ms Shantay,” I say, raising my smoke to her. “And you, Shadow.”
He lets out a nervous, shaking laugh. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Vicious. You cracked one of my ribs back there.”
“Sorry,” I say without much remorse. “Send me the medical bill.”
“Oh I will,” he rasps.
I step to the railing and draw deadly smoke into my lungs. I should quit, but I know it won’t be the cigarettes that kill me.
“Did it work?” Coco asks the question. I hear some doubt in her voice.
“Yes.”
Ash flutters in the breeze.
“Thank you,” I say, facing away from the two people who did what I could not: scare Kitty into believing that the danger is real and ever present and that she cannot predict the direction from which it will come.
Shadow lets out a raspy sound. “The brain scrambling was over the top. I didn’t find it believable. Nobody gives people lobotomies on the street. You should have stuck to the basics. I could have shot her somewhere non-essential.”
“It doesn’t matter what you found believable. What matters is that she found it believable.”
“Mmmhmmmm,” Coco draws out the word in a judgmental tone. “Vicious, you are playing a dangerous game. If she finds out you set her up, she’s never going to trust you again.”
I turn to face Coco. “I’m sorry, did I ask for your Agony Aunt style advice? Have I commissioned a column I’m not aware of?”
“No n
eed to get sassy with me,” Coco smirks. “I’m just telling you what your conscience would, if you had one.”
My conscience doesn’t work for banal concepts of right and wrong. It sees the bigger picture, just like I do. Kitty needed to be made afraid. She needed to see how far some people will go to hurt her. And she needed that from me. I refuse to feel guilty about that. The sex, on the other hand…
“I don’t need her trust,” I say, talking so I don’t have to think. “I just need her to do as she’s told. I needed to scare her straight. I’d say that has been achieved, wouldn’t you?”
“You are one manipulative fucker,” Coco laughs. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
Shadow looks at me beneath his stringy pale hair. His sunken eyes also hold silent judgement. When Shadow judges you, you know you’ve gone deep into the dark. But this will teach them a lesson too. It will show them that I am capable of anything. I will orchestrate what needs to be orchestrated, I will twist reality itself to get what I need done.
People are puppets, not because they have to be, but because they choose to be. The curtain is always there, a thin piece of fabric ready to be pulled back - but people don’t tug on it. Because doing so would destroy the comfortable illusions they’ve bought into. And even if they did pull it open, all they’d do is find themselves on another one of my carefully constructed sets.
All the world is a play, and I fucking write the script.
“OH. YOU. FUCKING…”
A shrill sound erupts like a siren. It’s not coming from my place, for once. It’s coming from a balcony nearby. My neighbor is a Saudi prince who stays in his apartment once or twice a year. But it’s no prince hurling insults at me right now. It’s Blaze.
“You are a fucking ASSHOLE,” she hisses across the space between us. “I’m going to tell Kitty what you did tonight. I’m going to tell her every-fucking-thing. And then, you know what? She’s going to leave, and you’re going to leave her the fuck alone or… HEY!”
