Page 88 of Awakening the Beast
Her head hangs forward, her wet, brown hair cascading down her front and half of her pretty features are obscured by a black blind fold, her mouth gagged.
I take another long drag as I think about the position I’ve put her in. She looks helpless like this, so fucking vulnerable, but the reality is harsh. I wait patiently for her to awaken from the drug-induced coma, knowing that she’ll definitely be furious when she does. Maybe I went too fucking far, knocking her out cold, but she needed to understand the seriousness of her mistake.
If I could do it, anyone fucking could. Never drop your guard, even if you think you’ve won. So, this is the consequence, a lesson she won’t forget.
The minutes stretch on as I watch her carefully, the only sounds in the building being an occasional drip of water and the soft crackle of my cigarette.
Finally, there’s a faint stir in her posture, a small movement as she begins to wake up. I exhale a plume of smoke, letting it dissipate into the musty air, and a small smile curls my lips. Now, it’s time for her to understand what happens when you’re not strong enough, not fucking fierce enough, to defend yourself.
No one, not even me should be an exception in these kinds of scenarios.
I take one last drag from the cigarette, the smoke curling lazily into the air before I flick it away. Slowly, I rise before I begin to stride toward her, each step echoing softly. The closer I get, the more she begins to move, her senses gradually returning as the effects of the drug wears off. Her head lifts sluggishly, and I can see the moment she starts to become aware of her situation.
Panic ripples through her, her breathing quickening, shallow and erratic, as she strains against the binds that hold her in place. I stop in front of her and although she can't see me, she knows someone is here, and the hesitation of it—the fear of the unknown—is clear as her body freezes.
I reach into my pocket, the leather of my gloves creaking softly as I pull out my knife. The blade catches the faint light as I calmly crouch down in front of her, my feral eyes roaming over her body, taking in every curve, every shudder as shetugs against the restraints. She’s completely at my mercy, and the power of knowing that courses through me like a sickening fucking drug.
“Arlo?” She asks, my name is muffled, the gag distorting it.
But I say nothing, letting the silence stretch, thick and uncomfortable. I want her fear to peak, to consume her, to bring her to the point of desperation.
I bite onto the tip of my glove, pulling it off my hand before doing the same to the other. I gently set my knife down beside me, then reach out. When I hook my finger beneath the thin black strap of her dress, she stops breathing entirely. I slowly drag it down her arm, the shiver running through her evident. I do the same to the other, then sneak my fingers beneath the bust of her little dress. She starts to hyperventilate, then begins to struggle, trying to pull away and stop me, but my jaw tenses before I roughly rip her dress down, making sure both of her big tits bounce out and are exposed to me.
“Arlo?!” she screams against the gag in panic. “Answer me, you fucking asshole!”
My brow lifts, staring at her with my head tilted to the side. Then, I lower myself to my knees, inching toward her. Both my hands lay on her bare thighs as I bring my face close to hers. Her body tenses as I gradually push her dress up her silky-smooth thighs until it's bunched around her waist. The way her body is so taut tells me she is trying to work out if it's me or if it’s a stranger who is
touching her. The thought does something deranged to me.
I fucking love seeing her scared. Degraded. Powerless.
I grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back sharply, revealing the delicate curve of her neck to me. My breath hovers just above her skin, as my hand slides down between her thighs. The instant my fingers graze her wet, vulnerable cunt, she lets out a startled yelp, her body jolting against me.
A dark satisfaction coils inside me as I push my fingers through her lips, forcing three deep into her tight, quivering cunt. I growl low against her neck, feeling her shudder as I press in deeper, her walls clenching around me in resistance, a pointless attempt to reject the inevitable.
Lifting my head, I bring my lips dangerously close to hers, enjoying the sight of her chest rising and falling with each panicked breath beneath the gag. I leave my fingers buried inside her, teasing her, making her wait for the next thrust.
When I finally pull back and slam them in again, her loud moan echoes through the room, a sound of both pleasure and despair. Frustration and desire burn through me as I press my lips to hers, not in a kiss, but a challenge. “You just moaned for your fucking captor,” I bite out. “Is that how you plan to escape? By being a filthy fucking slut?”
I notice her shoulders slacken at the sound of my voice, but it's short-lived because I begin to bang my fingers into her pussy hard and fast with harsh power. As her screams become uncontrollable, the sound of her sloppy, wet pussy echoes in a merge of an arousing symphony and my annoyance mounts.
“You better not come. That's not how this works. You hold that shit,” I command.
I continue, making sure I hit the spot that always makes her come quick. “If you do, I'm going to seriously fuck you up tonight and show you I am the only man you will ever come hard for.”
Her body trembles, and I can feel her struggling to obey, her walls tensing as I drive her closer to the edge. Her cunt pours with come, unable to contain the pleasure. Just as I feel her close, I pause deep inside her and her pussy twitches around three of my long digits, pulsing for relief, her breath coming out uneven.
“You're close, slut. Your come is flowing down my fucking hand. Control yourself,” I growl, knowing that she can't possibly hold it with the way I am fingering her cunt so good, but I still continue to torture her.
“I can't help it,” she puffs out against the gag, utterly consumed by stimulation, desperate. I can feel her body trembling with the effort to do as she’s asked and it’s fucking intoxicating.
As her almost-climax begins to fade, I don’t give her a moment to gather herself, my fingers plunge back into her, violent and unforgiving, striking that perfect spot repeatedly again with brutal accuracy.
“You will fucking help it.” My breath is hot against her ear as I hiss, “You will do as you’re told, or you won’t stop coming all night, right here, completely at my mercy on my cock and tongue.” My tone is hostile, and every word is a vow.
“Over and over, I’ll use this body—this slutty, needy pussy and ass—for my own twisted pleasure because you belong to me. I will break and ruin every inch of you until you’re nothing but atrembling fucking mess under my control. Hours will pass, and I’ll keep going, pushing you beyond every limit you have, making you feel filthier than the dirt beneath our feet.”
I pause, letting the weight of my words sink in, feeling her body tense beneath my grip. “Your pussy, your asshole, will be sore, loose, throbbing, and overflowing with my cum—too wrecked to take any more of me. By the time I’m done, Wren, you’ll hate yourself for wanting it and being a greedy fucking slut. But you’ll hate me even more for making you crave it so damn much.”
