Page 20 of Violent Love: Viktor (The Caged Hearts Pet Play #5)

Natalya

My Master let me worship his body, and I obeyed every command that echoed through my blind world.

I ached to be filled every time I sucked his cock. Every morning and night, when I felt his warmth beside me, the desperation grew worse. It was making me crazy.

When would I be worthy?

He thrust harder, grunting when my teeth grazed him. I opened wider, almost gagging as the rounded tip pushed past my tight opening. My nipples ached, but my pussy ached more.

Another hard thrust, and he was buried in my neck. My pussy leaked until my inner thighs were damp. I rubbed my tongue over the cock, stuffing my mouth. I couldn’t see it, but I remembered every curve—how it tilted slightly to the right, the veins I traced with my tongue. Those heavy balls that hung down. They felt best when they smacked against my lips and face.

I gripped the back of his thighs, desperate for those balls to smack my face again. I wished I wasn’t wearing the mask, just so I could feel them on my skin. Master obliged, and my empty pussy contracted.

“You want it all, don’t you?”

he murmured before fucking his cock so deep into my neck, I felt his balls slap against the mask.

I moaned around his cock, writhing on the bed.

He suddenly pulled out of my mouth, leaving me bereft.

“Get on your hands and knees. Give me your ass,”

he snapped, slapping my face.

The mask took most of the impact, but it jolted me out of my daze. I rolled over and jumped into position, shuffling backwards until I felt the edge of the bed.

Was this it?

Had I earned his cock?

“Dirty bitches get fucked in the ass, Suka,”

he said as I felt him squirt lube over my asshole.

A few seconds later, I felt the slippery head of his cock nudge at my hole. I was in my dark world—pussy dripping, throat aching, and my nipples on fire. I would take anything, anywhere, as long as it was my Master who gave it to me.

I barked for him.

“Woof. Woof. Woof, woof, woof. Woof.”

My song, just for him.

“We’ll see how happy you are when my dick is lodged in your guts,”

he muttered, increasing the pressure.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Right there.

I put my head on the bed and raised my ass for him.

He wasn’t gentle when the thick head breached my hole. There was no gentleness in his grip on my cheeks as he spread me open. I didn’t need gentle. I needed his fat cock inside of me.

“So. Fucking. Tight. Let. Me. In,”

he grunted, pushing deeper with each word.

I moaned in pleasure as he stretched my insides. The throbbing pain made my body sag against the bed. It was everything and more. I wanted to cry, to beg for more, as my ass clenched around him, sinking into the pain.

He didn’t wait. He gave it to me hard and fast. The lube made each penetration slicker, easier. He plunged in and out, smacking my ass with his body, forging a path deeper inside me.

My nipples scraped against the bed. My pussy fluttered.

“You are not permitted to cum, Suka. This is for me. If you cum—”

I gripped the covers, clawing at them. He didn’t need to finish the threat.

This was a test.

Or a punishment.

Hot tears prickled beneath my mask. My insides felt hollow, numb. But his pounding cock made me nervous. I was so close.

Please cum. Hurry up and cum inside me.

I begged him in silence.

“Yes. Your asshole is wide open now. Ready for your Master’s cum,”

he grunted, his rhythm stuttering. “Your dirty shithole is ready.”

My entire body trembled as I fought the climax threatening to break free.

He slammed into me—hard. His bellow echoed around me.

His hot cum flooded my insides. I felt every spurt, and I mourned.

For myself.

This wasn’t a reward.

***

I heard a ceramic bowl scrape across wood just before he pulled out of my ass. I winced, already knowing what was about to happen.

“Clench your asshole and squeeze out my cum,”

he snapped.

I obeyed immediately, but I felt too open. Still, I felt the wet drip of his cum sliding out of me—and the chill of the ceramic bowl nestled between my inner thighs. He waited patiently until it stopped. Then something cold scraped my skin as he collected the remnants from my hole.

“You may remove your clamps after you’ve eaten. Your bowl will be on the mat. I’m going for a shower.”

His voice was cold. Distant.

“Woof,”

I said, though it came out more like a pathetic whimper.

I climbed off the bed and felt my way toward the mat, knowing he wouldn’t be satisfied until I’d eaten every last drop—his cum and the food.

***

I lay curled in the corner of the bed, clutching a pillow to my chest.

The nipple clamps were still on. I left them. A punishment. A way to feel something. But the pain dulled fast. It stopped helping.

I needed more.

My jaw ached. My throat was raw. He hadn’t touched the rest of me. Not where I needed him the most. Not once.

The shower cut off.

I heard him drying off, slow and methodical. The bathroom door was open. Steam rolled out. I could smell his body wash—clean, sharp, expensive.

His footsteps padded from tile to wood.

He paused.

Drawers opened. Clothes rustled.

Then silence.

The door clicked shut behind him.

That’s when I cried.