Page 30 of Violent Love: Viktor (The Caged Hearts Pet Play #5)

Natalya

“Ten,”

I cried out.

I panted through the pain, waiting for more, but it didn't come. The burn across flesh was fierce and I loved it.

“Thank you, Master,”

I gasped as his cool hands cupped my ass cheeks.

“Good girl, but it won't save your ass from being ruined,”

he said beside my ear.

I felt him shift behind me, the mattress dipping under his weight. His fingers spread me wide, dragging over the welts like he was proud of them.

“Look at this mess,”

he muttered. “Dripping. Marked, and fucking perfect.”

My asshole clenched when I felt the head of his cock nudge against it. I braced.

“Stay still,”

he warned. “Or I’ll start from one again.”

I buried my face into the pillow, whimpering, my breath fogging against the cotton.

He pushed in—slow, cruel, stretching my already burning ass until the ache bloomed into fire.

“Fuck, yes,”

he hissed. “You were made for this. Made to be assfucked like a filthy slut.”

I sobbed, overwhelmed, body trembling as he seated himself fully. Ruined didn’t even cover it.

His hand gripped my throat from behind, not tight, just enough to remind me who I belonged to.

“You like being punished in your asshole, little whore?”

he whispered, voice thick with need.

“Yes, Master,”

I breathed.

“Then take every inch. Like the obedient little bitch you are.”

Just as I was about to cum he paused, staying buried deep for a moment, grinding his hips down until I squirmed.

“Still tight enough in there to make me fucking lose it,”

he growled, dragging his cock out halfway, then slamming it back in so hard the headboard rattled. “But that wouldn’t be fair now, would it? Letting you cum without a proper lesson.”

I whined into the pillow. My thighs shook from holding still.

“Please,”

I begged, voice hoarse, throat still bruised from being used.

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, Master.”

I felt the sharp sting of a slap to my right cheek—more bite than pain.

“You’ll cum when I say. Not before. Not even if you soak the fucking sheets.”

He pulled out halfway again. Then again. Slow, shallow thrusts. A filthy rhythm meant to drive me mad. His cock teased the edge of my hole and then shoved deeper again, just enough to make me gasp.

My hips twitched, trying to chase his cock. That earned me another slap.

“Greedy little ass slut,”

he murmured. “After you fucked yourself with a cucumber? You think you get to cum?”

“No, Master.”

“No,”

he repeated, sliding one hand under me. His fingers brushed my clit, barely there, cruel and fleeting.

I almost lost it.

“Please, I’ll be good—”

“You are good,”

he said, mock-sweet. “Good at being ruined. Good at wearing your Master’s marks. Good at taking cock where it hurts.”

He pinched my clit hard enough to make me jolt.

“Beg again.”

“Please, Master. Please let me cum. I need it—I’ll do anything.”

“Anything, huh?”

He stilled. I whimpered. My whole body was slick and shaking.

“Then beg with your hole,”

he said, gripping my hips and fucking into me again—hard, fast, brutal.

“Show me how much you need it.”

He gripped my hips tighter, grinding deep instead of thrusting. Keeping me impaled. Stuffed full. His cock throbbed inside me, twitching like it owned the pain.

“You begged so sweet, but I think you can do better,”

he murmured, leaning over me, breath hot against my ear. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

I whimpered, already broken, already undone.

“That you’re a filthy, useless little pet with a cunt that’s worthless—but an asshole that was made to be used.”

Tears burned down my cheeks. My body trembled. But I said it.

“I’m a filthy, useless little pet. My cunt’s worthless. My asshole was made for you, Master.”

“Mmm,”

he groaned, dragging his cock out halfway before driving it back in, slow and punishing. “Now that’s a good girl.”

He kept the pace agonising—deep, slow, stretching every second. I sobbed into the pillow, broken down to nothing but need.

“Louder,”

he growled. “I want the everyone to hear you cry for it.”

He pulled back again, slower this time, until I could feel the sting of being emptied—and then slammed home with a grunt.

“Say it again.”

“I’m your filthy pet,”

I gasped. “I don’t need a cunt. I need your cock in my ass. Please, Master. Use me.”

The slap landed sharp across my thigh, but his cock didn’t stop moving. He fucked me harder now, deeper. My body jolted with every thrust, his hips slapping against me, wet and unforgiving.

“You don’t get to cum,”

he snarled, “until you cry for me.”

I was already crying. I was already soaked. My clit throbbed with every bounce of the bed. But he wasn’t done. His hand slipped under me again, just two fingers—circling, teasing, then stopping. Never enough.

“Beg.”

“Please, Master. Please use me harder. I’ll be good. I’ll be better. Just don’t stop.”

“Not good enough.”

“Please break me,”

I sobbed. “Fuck me until I forget my name. I don’t want anything but this. Just you. Just this.”

He slammed deep. Stayed buried.

“That’s more like it,”

he rasped. “You ready to cum, my ruined little pet?”

“Yes,”

I breathed, trembling.

“Then take it.”

He fucked me through it—hard, brutal, no mercy. Again and again his hips slammed down on me. Thrusts so deep that I couldn't catch my breath.

When I shattered beneath him, choking on the scream into the pillow, he didn’t stop. He just kept using me.

“That’s it use that asshole to milk me,”

he snarled, resuming his earlier pace.

“Please cum in my ass, Master,” I begged.

“Yeah? You want my cum, pet?”

His cock pounded in and out with a vicious stabbing motion.

I felt another orgasm build up and I tightened around him. He chuckled.

“My hot little ass slut. You gonna cum again? Huh?”

I rubbed my clit on the bed and pushed back at his cock, repeating the action.

I couldn’t answer—not with words. I rubbed harder, dragged my clit across the sheets like an animal in heat, and shoved my ass back to meet every savage thrust.

He grunted. Slapped my hip.

“That’s it. Use me right back. Fuck your Master’s cock with that tight little hole.”

I was crying again, face soaked, throat raw from screaming into the pillow. And still, I kept chasing it—grinding and bouncing and sobbing. There was no pride left. No shame. Just heat and pain and him.

“Say it,”

he growled. “Say whose ass this is.”

“Yours, Master. It’s yours. Your ass. Your filthy, ruined hole.”

“Damn right,”

he snapped, thrusting so deep my legs trembled.

The sound of our bodies—wet, punishing, filthy—echoed off the walls. My mask slid with sweat. My collar felt too tight. I was right on the edge.

“Cum for me again,”

he growled. “Show me what kind of an ass slut you really are.”

The orgasm hit hard. Violent. My body seized up, my back arched, and I cried out—choked and raw—as my hole clamped down around him like it never wanted to let go.

“Fuuuck—”

he groaned, and then he was coming too.

He shoved deep one last time and let go—hot, thick spurts flooding my asshole, his breath ragged above me.

We stayed like that. Frozen. Connected.

Then I heard him laugh—low, smug.

“You’re such a good little cum dumpster.”

I moaned into the pillow, broken and proud.

Because I was.