The pleasure of the Demon # 1
Massive Attack - Angel
The background music but it is not an attack of an Angel, it is a Demon that owns you. Approaching, lips, to your ear whisper perversely:
"Keep tears for when they can be useful,
now I will make you suffer because it is what I want"
I propose again the module of the novel. I hope indeed that many others will want to participate. More details, equivalent to a story faithful to your tastes and desires.
Do not be shy!
The abomination is already on your face, slowly, fingers move from the chin to the temples and then break into thick hair, tightens them violently and this simple act can only ignite further desire in his deviated soul. Mentally take your place, become his and destined to the martyrdom of the most wild drives. The long nails of the demon scratch the bare shoulders to the arms, forcing your body to be prone, exposed and defenseless. Loving the redness generated by the friction, binds those wrists firmly with precious silk cloth and makes you at the end, helpless. A feeble thought is the interval of the moment, dares to ask yourself with horror:.
Give me one reason why now I should not cause so much pain?
The hand pushes the head crushing it on the pillow, his/her lips can feel from the back of the neck slowly go the way of the neck, the teeth sink into it until the groan leaves no room to The scream of pure pain The tongue licks and presumes to creep in as if it were salt on an exposed wound, both arms resting on the shoulder blades, pushing the breast so indirectly compressed to pay the painful consequences, press and press nonchalantly when the tears come out of the face with sadistic instincts.Then the teeth sink and draw exactly the imaginary path that would divide the nudity of your body in two exact halves, you can definitely hear them redraw each section of the spine, almost cut and affect pushing up to the buttocks where warm hands rest for a few moments, vicious hands, which stick and push on the orifice making him wince.
You definitely feel a finger that from the buttock slowly advances and makes its way through the thigh, the ankle, stopping only at the first sign of tickling of the foot. He grabs that little leg, kissing it with such vigor that it almost masks the succession of events. Everything is so fast and violent, you can only understand and take note of the situation, the ankles are tied. It 's definitely a rope because soon it takes place near the pillow, you have the certainty staring in its brute form. The hand, his hands! The left tightens the hair pulling them to itself, the right hand grasps the neck without tightening, gently rubs his temples to yours in full contradiction of the fact that it leaves you the slightest breath. In the instant when you can not shake yourself thinking of fainting, the grip of the neck is gone and consequently the hairline. He/She turns again to his possession with simple but strange words:
You definitely feel a finger that from the buttock slowly advances and makes its way through the thigh, the ankle, stopping only at the first sign of tickling of the foot. He/She grabs that little leg, kissing it with such vigor that it almost masks the succession of events. Everything is so fast and violent, you can only understand and take note of the situation, the ankles are tied. It 's definitely a rope because soon it takes place near the pillow, you have the certainty staring in its brute form. The hand, his/her hands! The left tightens the hair pulling them to itself, the right hand grasps the neck without tightening, gently rubs his temples to yours in full contradiction of the fact that it leaves you the slightest breath. In the instant when you can not shake yourself thinking of fainting, the grip of the neck is gone and consequently the hairline. She/He turns again to his possession with simple but strange words:
"Why do you hurt yourself when you can do it alone?"
A few seconds is the pause that anticipates the answer of the perverse sentence, the tight rope forces the ankles to rise, you do not have time to get back or think about the worst. The inevitable meeting point of the bond of that rope is your throat where some rounds and pass complete the sadistic work. The two strings are pulled to the extreme and meet making sure that the weight of the ankles string and pull hard in the throat. Instinct suggests that by straining and lifting the ankles even more than the tension created by the rope, relief can occur. But how long will it be possible to continue the effort? You do not need answers, fatigue already leads to the first break and now slowly with those ankles you do nothing but suffocate yourself. Raising those damn ankles is the only thing to do. Now listen and meditate on the new words of your executioner:
"Raise those ankles to not hurt you, maybe if you now ..."
She/He gets up, you feel him/her spin around that bed while pauses mixed with effort allow you to maintain a minimum of control over that terrible situation. Straddling the bed, lie down, face a few millimeters to yours. The eyes of those who suffer and those who are the cause so close as ever distant in the power that dominates the other. Of course, the kiss that follows was in no way predicted. His/her mouth is one with yours, the kiss is intimate and sweet, ambiguous in the deviant context. The union of lips, those that make you close your eyes, abandon all defense and warm the heart. The drool that mixes, the sweet warmth of those who through their mouth expresses feelings as intense as they are real. You push yourself to them, live that moment erasing all the rest, the passion burns and the kiss becomes your all. Impossible not to love and surrender to such a kiss, and this is what the demon was aiming for. It 'a whirlwind, the mind explodes and throbs from that sort of wet kiss, the distraction has corrupted your ankles, how much you did not raise them? Fleeing from that heavenly kiss, I hasten to raise them to the impossibility. Anxious, you understand that you were bartering your survival by the excitement of your warm lips. Breathing was not the priority.
Will you accept this excitement or not? Your body certainly does not lie ..
It is the phrase that the demon addresses to you while collecting your warm mood passing a finger from the small lips to the urethra of the helpless sex. Then showing you the droplet of pleasure that slips away from the forefinger to the palm of your hand, which pressing and forceful on your mouth forces you to taste the irrefutable taste of reality of what you really want ..
TO BE CONTINUED?
♥
₪All images and text published in this post are mine or my original work₪
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