"You didn't reply me yet"... I say...
"What?" Rez asked softly, her breath uneven.
"Did your body miss me, Rez?" I whispered, two fingers sliding slowly, deliberately inside her, barely giving her what she craved.
She quivered and gave a shaky nod.
"Always use your voice, love," I murmured against her ear. "Never disappoint me with silence. Obedience is beautiful, remember?"
Her body stiffened slightly at the edge in my voice. Then came her hushed reply:
"Yes..."
I raised my brow, keeping the rhythm torturously slow.
"Yes what?"
A soft flush bloomed across her cheeks. "Yes... my body missed you," she said, eyes darting away—like a child caught stealing sweets.
"Oh? Really?" I smirked. "Which part of your body missed me most?"
She hesitated, then slowly raised her finger and pointed downward—right where my fingers disappeared and reappeared, slick and slow, teasing instead of pleasing.
She thrust her pelvis upward, seeking more, hungry for friction. I feigned ignorance.
"Here?" I teased. "Where exactly, love? I want a clear answer."
"You're cruel," she whispered with an annoyed huff. "Why don't you just give it to me already?"
My fingers stopped. Entirely. No movement, no mercy.
I looked down at her. "Oh... That tone?" I said calmly. "That earns punishment."
She whimpered and clenched around nothing. I leaned in, brushing my lips along her ear.
"Say it, or you'll get nothing. It's only afternoon, darling. Do you really want to stay hungry there until nightfall?" My eyes flicked down in emphasis.
She jerked in frustration. "No! Please..." Her voice cracked slightly. "Why are you like this now?" She looked at me, half-pleading. "You were kind. Gentle. Two months ago…"
My gaze darkened, my expression turning cold and absolute.
"Rez," I said, voice low and sharp, "Old Elish died—riddled with bullets. Death changes people. That Elish is gone." I paused, letting the weight of my words hang heavy in the room. "You have two choices—accept the man I've become, or don't."
I pulled back, intending to walk away—half a test, half a warning.
But before I could step further, arms wrapped tightly around my torso. Her soft skin pressed to my back. Her hardened nipples brushed against me, reigniting a fire I thought I'd locked away.
I froze.
Her voice was barely a breath. "I don't care what you've become. Just… don't walk away from me again."
The beast inside me stirred—fully awake now.
---
"So… this is how it is now, huh?" I whisper with a wicked grin, my voice like silk laced with thorns.
Rez bites her lip, eyes trembling between hesitation and need. "Fine then," she mutters defiantly, "say—"
But before I even finish my demand, she interrupts, her voice cracking with restrained desperation.
"My pussy," she blurts, cheeks flushing crimson. "I missed you being in my pussy..."
The words hang in the air like confession and surrender—raw, dirty, and achingly honest. Something shifts. Inside her. Inside me.
I lean in, brushing her hair back, murmuring low against her ear, "Oh my… what a little slut you are, right?"
She nods furiously. "Yes. But only for you."
"That's right," I growl. "Only mine."
Before her next breath, I push her gently onto the bed. Her body yields like it's been waiting for this moment. I trail kisses down her nape, to her collarbone, her neck, beneath her ear. I suck, bite, mark her skin, one hickey after another, claiming her inch by inch.
Her breath hitches with every touch. Her skin is warm and slick with sweat.
I take both her wrists and pin them above her head. Her body is stretched, exposed. Her smooth armpits glisten faintly under the low light—tender and vulnerable. I blow a slow stream of air there.
She jerks. A gasp.
Then, slowly—deliberately—I lower my lips and begin to lick.
Her taste is salty, sweet, primal. It's dirty. It's human. And it drives me mad.
"Elish," she moans, writhing beneath me. "Please… I want it."
"What do you want?" I ask coldly, licking a slow stripe along her ribs.
"I want your dick in me," she pleads.
"In your what?"
"In my pussy… I want your big dick in my pussy…"
I pull back, grin sharp as a blade. "Hmm. Should I give it to you… or not?"
Before she can answer, I flip her over onto her stomach. Her ass is perfectly arched, flushed with anticipation.
"Call me Master."
"Master…" she breathes.
I grab the belt she had worn earlier. Not pure leather, but firm enough for the job. I run the smooth side across her lower back, teasing, letting the tension build.
Then—smack.
A sharp, clean hit lands on the lower curve of her left cheek.
She cries out. Not in pain. In need.
Another smack—this time across her inner thigh.
"Ahhh—mmm, yes…" she moans, body trembling.
"What a little toy you are," I murmur. "My filthy toy."
---
Rez's POV:
What is this? Why does it feel so… good?
He just licked my armpit. My dirty, sweaty armpit. But it didn't feel gross. It felt… good. Too good. Like I'm coming undone.
And now the belt—his belt—slapping my thighs, my ass.
It should hurt. It does. But I'm leaking like a ruined slut.
Am I this nasty?
Or was I always like this, waiting for someone to break me with tenderness twisted in cruelty?
"Ahhh—yes! Hit me more… break me…"
What am I even saying?
I'm losing it… but I don't care.
Let him lead me. Let him drag me to the edge of heaven and drop me into hell.
---
Back to Present:
I grip her hair and lift her face just slightly from the bed.
"Rez… beg for it."
"Please, Master," she says without hesitation. "I want both… I want to be hit and fucked. Please…"
Smack.
Another hit. Not hard. Just enough to make her gasp again.
"You greedy little bitch," I whisper into her ear. "You really want it all, huh?"
"Yes… yes… please reward me, Master…"
I lean in, positioning myself behind her, but I don't enter. Not yet. My hands grip her hips, steady and firm. I let the head of my cock brush against her soaked slit.
"Say it again. What do you want?"
She pushes her hips back desperately.
"I want to be fucked. I want your cock. I want to be used like your personal cum dump. I don't care—just give it to me."
I smile—dark, satisfied, feral.
And just as I begin to enter her heat, her voice quivers again, almost breaking:
"I love this version of you… even if it breaks me."
She says slowly.. Nobody caught that, not even elish
---
Her breath hitches as I slide into her slowly—agonizingly slow—stretching her inch by inch. She's hot, wet, trembling beneath me. The moment I sink in fully, her whole body jolts like she's been struck by lightning.
I don't move.
I let her feel it.
Every. Fucking. Inch.
She whimpers beneath me, trying to push back, to create friction, but my grip on her hips is iron.
"You don't move until I say so," I growl.
She freezes, panting. Her body shakes with restraint.
"You begged for this. Now suffer the reward."
I begin to move—but just my hips. Slow. Controlled. A rhythm that barely scratches the itch, like a tease carved into flesh. Her inner muscles flutter around me, desperate, clenching for more.
"Please," she gasps, voice broken.
But I don't speed up.
Instead, I reach for her wrists and pull them behind her back, binding them together using the same belt from earlier—efficient, snug. It's not just for restraint. It's to make her submit fully.
"Keep your arms there. You break it, we stop."
"I won't," she whispers. "Don't stop. Ever."
I lean over her back, one hand gripping her throat—not tight, just enough to make her breath shallow, to remind her who owns every gasp. My other hand traces her belly, sliding lower, circling her clit but never giving her the pressure she craves.
"Do you feel how your body betrays you?" I whisper. "You're soaking. Your pussy's swallowing me like it's starving."
She nods, eyes shut, face pressed against the sheets. "I'm yours… I'm all yours…"
I tighten my grip just slightly—not choking her, but controlling the tempo of her breath.
"I could break you right now," I murmur into her ear. "Make you come so hard you scream."
Her moan turns guttural.
"But I won't… not yet."
Instead, I pull out fully. She gasps—betrayal written all over her back.
I flip her roughly, her eyes wide, body spread and bound, vulnerable and raw.
I slide back in, this time with force, holding her legs apart by the knees. My pace is brutal now, unforgiving. Her screams echo off the walls—but not of pain. Of release. Of surrender.
I feel her tighten, pulse, writhe—and just before she tips over—
I stop.
She sobs—an orgasm stolen at its edge.
Her eyes are glassy with tears. "Why…?"
"Because," I say, brushing the hair from her face, "your punishment isn't over."
---
The sky outside darkens as the hour creeps toward nine. The bedroom air is thick—stained with sweat, heat, and the musky perfume of raw craving. The sheets have long been twisted into chaos beneath them, a map of every thrust, every shift, every scream.
Rez lies beneath me, legs parted like an offering, her body trembling—not from fear, but the tension of being so thoroughly unraveled. Her wrists are still held above her head, pinned there not by force anymore, but by obedience. By need.
I stare down at her face—lashes clumped with tears, lips swollen from too much kissing, too much begging. Her ocean-blue eyes blink up at me, dazed, like she's hovering somewhere between this world and the next.
"You're such a fucking mess," I whisper, dragging the tip of my cock across her lower lips, slow enough to make her sob. "My perfect, ruined mess."
"Please," she whimpers, arching again. Her voice has long since cracked. "I want— I need—"
"You don't need to speak," I interrupt, catching both of her ankles and folding her knees high into her chest, opening her wide. "Your body screams it for you."
And with one controlled push, I slide into her, burying myself to the hilt. She cries out—a strangled mix of pleasure and something dangerously close to surrender.
Every thrust now is brutal, unrelenting, not for punishment, not for teasing—just pure, unfiltered hunger. Her hips jerk upward in rhythm, meeting me halfway, a silent cry for more. The wet slap of skin, the creak of the bedframe, the echo of our sin—it's a symphony.
My mouth latches onto the side of her breast, biting—not gently—and she screams. I don't stop. I want to mark every part of her, so that even tomorrow, when she walks, she'll feel me.
Her walls tighten violently, and I know she's close again.
"Don't cum yet," I grunt, reaching between us and circling her clit with two slick fingers, deliberately slow.
"Please!" she thrashes, held in place by nothing but my strength and her desperation.
"Beg properly."
"Master, please let me cum," she sobs, voice broken, eyes locked on mine with an almost religious fervor. "I need it. I need you to break me."
I lean down, nose brushing hers, breath mingling. "Then earn it."
One last deep thrust. Her entire body goes rigid.
And then she breaks. Shatters. Her scream echoes through the night air as she convulses beneath me, eyes wide and unseeing.
I follow with a groan, collapsing onto her, heart pounding like war drums.
Our breaths are ragged, mingling in the silence that follows.
The night air seeps through the window, cooling the fire but not extinguishing it.
She lays under me, spent, bruised, kissed raw.
And then she whispers, her voice barely a breath:
"Elish… there's something I didn't tell you…"
-[End of Chapter 5]-
Decency can be facade of innocence