“Oh, fuck, Daphne. Fuck me.” I cradle her face. Tears stream down her cheeks, a black river of mascara, but she doesn’t quit. Her hands massage my thighs.
“Look at me,” I order, and she does. Wide, green eyes, wet with tears but still hungry. Desperate with need and…desperate to please me, too. Fuck, what is she doing to me? Besides turning my world upside down. I want to push her. I want to punish her. I want to make love to her.
Her head bobs frantically and she gains another few centimeters with each pass. I hold her a moment on my dick and then let her back off to catch her breath.
“Back up. On the table. Hold yourself open and offer yourself to me.” I lost this war before it even began.
She scrambles up and kneels on the low table. Face down, hands on either ass cheek, tugging them apart. The butt plug fills her tiny hole. I draw it out and watch the stretched skin retract. My cock throbs so hard I almost black out. Fuck me.
I have to have her. Now. I grab a bottle of lube and slick up my cock. If I touch her beautiful golden skin too soon…
“Fuck me, Daphne,” I breathe as I line up my cock with her back hole. Her anus has shrunk without the plug, and I push inside before she tightens up even more. My entire body shutters with first contact and I’m glad she’s facing away from me and can’t see.
The head of my cock breaches the first tight ring of muscle. She wriggles a little, helping me work in further and oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. I almost lose my mind. Her channel squeezes me tight and all the blood rushes from my head to my dick. I steady myself, my hands huge on her tiny, tapered waist.
Every time I have my hands on her, it feels like the most natural thing on earth. In a world full of wrong, here, finally, is something right.
And then the terrible, wonderful thought strikes me: What if she’s real?
What if she’s really my girl? What if she really is the girl next door that I met all those years ago? That girl at the beach who walked out in the red bikini and scalded my eyes. The girl I could talk to for hours. The woman I gave her first kiss, her first orgasm, the only woman I’ve ever— What if she’s real? The innocent and the sex pot and the perfect and imperfect, all wrapped up together in the marvelous package laid before me, wanting me for nothing else other than me?
Her hair cascades down her back, slipping off when she tries to turn her head. What does she see? A monster, a giant beast impaling her on his impossibly big rod? I ease further inside her and fall forward, covering her body with mine. I’m wedged tight inside her, dying to fuck, but I want to feel her, gather her trembling form into my arms.
I kiss her between her shoulder blades but the smooth, false skin of my mask is still a barrier between us.
“Eyes front.” I tug on her hair to enforce the order. The thought that she might be my fantasy made reality is too much, but like a fool, I still want it. I’m also tempted by the vision, and with her body wrapped around me, I’m lost in her. Finally inside her again, I can’t bear any more barriers between us. Even if it makes me the biggest fool in the universe.
But when she’s facing forward again, I rip off the mask and toss it to the corner. Then I grasp her hips and slide her back onto my cock, making her groan as I conquer her ass. Her channel squeezes me so tightly I’m afraid my dick will snap off. I rock gently and lights flash in the corner of my eyes. The lube eases my entry, but in this moment, I just need to fuck her. I need to claim what’s mine. I want to hold on to possibility. And I want her to feel me so far into next week that she knows who her Master is.
My orgasm gathers in the base of my spine. She’s passive under me, grunting softly as I ream her ass. A perverse part of me loves that she’s uncomfortable. But I also want to make her cum. Watch her fall apart while I’m balls deep inside her ass. Make her love the depraved things I do to her body. Make her crave them. Make her crave me.
Next time, I’ll train her ass myself, and force her to cum only when the plug is wedged tight in her bowels. I want to do such filthy, wrong things to her and I want to make her love them.
I reach my hand under her and, sure enough, she’s a sopping mess. Poor, neglected pussy. I find her clit and grind the heel of my palm against it, making her cry out. My free hand grabs a handful of her hair, drawing her head back as I pummel her bottom. I want to hurt, to destroy her. Break her down until she’s in pieces. Then rebuild. She’ll be reborn. I’ll make her new. Make her mine.
A roar builds in my throat. Daphne cums with a howl, my hand at her clit and cock in her ass. She shudders hard, her back bowing until I’m afraid she’ll break in two. Her ass clenches around me, ripping out my cum. I fill her to the brim with my creamy offering, then pull out and coat her perfect ass.
Then I lean on the table, trembling, weak from my orgasm. The mask glimmers in the corner, empty eyes pointed in our direction, a judgmental voyeur. My clothes are crumpled on the floor. I left pieces of me all over the room.
Because, this night and always, Daphne’s the one who broke me apart.
She’s destroyed me. And I’m the one reborn.
Daphne
I thought it might mean something: giving myself over completely. But when I go to turn around and hug my Master, he stops me. A dark cloth drops over my face. He blindfolds me carefully, and leads me from the dungeon. Rose petals whisper at my feet.
Logan is gentle as he guides me to the bathroom, to a shower first for a rinse and then a tub full of fragrant water. Judging from the soft fluttering against my bare skin, he’s added rose petals. He eases me back and washes me gently, taking care not to disturb or submerge my newly pierced nipples.
But he won’t let me touch him. When I reach for him, he captures my wrists.
“No,” he rasps.
“But…” I bite my lip. We just shared a moment, I know we did, but he’s holding back. Retreating behind his stone walls. I opened myself completely, but it wasn’t enough to earn his trust.
I fight back tears as he takes me from the tub and dries me off. He removes my blindfold so I can take out my contacts. But his mask is back, firmly in place. I finish my business in the bathroom and head to bed where he waits for me in the darkness.
“I want to see you,” I whisper as he draws up the covers, tucking me in.
“I know.” His lips are on my forehead. The mask is cool on my skin. And I hate it. I hate how he hides. Not because he’s holding back from me, but because he thinks he’s ugly. The mask is a shield, but it hasn’t stopped me from hurting him.
He retreats to the door, pausing when I call his name.
“How, Logan? How can I earn you?”
He pauses and my silly heart fills to the brim with hope.
“You can’t.”
And when he leaves, I feel nothing but despair.
Eighteen
7 Years Ago
Daphne
My whole life has been spent towards one goal: saving my mother from death by this horrific disease.
And I failed.
I didn’t grow up fast enough, finish my degree quick enough, spend enough time with her while I had her on this earth.
And now she’s gone.
Gone.
It’s not fair. I believed so hard we would save her. That if I just did everything I was supposed to and worked hard enough…