SB et Vi's Closed Thread

[Scuttle Buttin']

Oh, she was back.

He grinned into the face of her fury, soaking it in, still forcing his way into her in a broken, jerking rhythm as she bucked and writhed.

And then he had enough.

"You want me off of you? Fine.

The hand that had been across her throat to pin her down left her, and both of them went into her hair, his other joining it, and he took a tight grip there again.

A final thrust into her, a grunt as he ground against her abused and invaded pussy, and then he pulled out of her with a wet, slipping sound. Pulling back, he drug her with him as he climbed up to his feet. He pulled her with him over to the table, giving her head a jerk when she fought him too hard, the knife snatched up and tossed aside.

Shoving her against the table he bent her forward over it, hands still in her hair, and he was quickly back up against her. One hand left her hair, the other left there to keep her in place. His thumb and forefinger circling the base of his cock, he drove himself into her once more, coating himself anew in her wetness, grunting low in his throat at her sudden tight grip around him.

And then he was gone from her again, just as suddenly as he'd invaded her, and the hand around his base repositioned himself.

Slick with her wetness, the swollen tip of cock pressed against her ass.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

It was like he didn't even notice her fight. And then he did. Suddenly she whimpered in fear, not wanting to move because what might come could be worse.

"You want me off of you? Fine."


His hand moved into hair, both of them, tightening in her locks, making her groan again. She waited for the tug. For the rip to her tresses that left her scalp feeling raw.

Before he pulled, he pushed himself back into her again. Ignoring her sobbing whimper and turn away when he did. He pulled her off of him, like it had been her sliding up and down him.

The implications of that image turned her stomach.

She was pulled to her feet and pushed into the table, her back raw, and her forehead drying from the small amount of blood that was there. He pushed her into the table bending her over it, kicking her legs apart, and positioning himself behind her. She gripped the table.

"No. Sir. No. Don't."

She knew what was coming.

He pushed back into her pussy. And then pulled out.

"No."

It was a whisper. A plea. And he wouldn't listen.

He placed himself against her ass.

"No..."

It didn't stop him. And he pushed into her body once more. This time, she wasn't prepared, and this hurt. Her fingers dug into the table even as tears fell.

And the worst part was that normally, she loved this. Which is why it killed her when a soft moan escaped.

Fuck this.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Goddamn, she was tight around him. Being coated in her made it easier, but it was still slow as he pushed his way deeper and deeper into her. A far cry from the hard fucking of moments ago. Just as he had before, though, he fully sank into her once again and then...

Was that a little moan?

A small, vicious little laugh came to life in his throat, and he took a moment while he was still fully held by her to turn his assault to her ass, a target too tempting to ignore with her bent over the table as she was.

He slapped her, one side than the other, repeatedly until her skin glowed just as red as so many other parts of her were. Her cries, her pleas, her struggles, all ignored as his cock filled her ass and he warmed his hand once more with a beating of her supple flesh.

It ended abruptly, cut off like an hourglass ran out of sand, and was replaced in the same instant with the evil work of his hips. He took her, invaded her ass the way he'd invaded her cunt, the way he'd invaded her mind.

A new position, a new part of her taken by him, but quickly the fucking became much the same. Hard, deep, merciless. He didn't give a fuck about her pleasure, whether she felt any at this or not. This was all about taking from her.

Hard. Deep. Throbbing. Grunting. He took, and took, and took from her.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

He sank once more into her body. Not having to watch him, she rested her head against the wood and waiting. Waiting for him to finish. For him to hurt her.

She heard the laugh and knew that her little dead moan had been heard. Which he turned into a chance to beat her ass. Which was given with great relish. While she cried out and whimpered, and screamed no. All of which meant nothing.

Resigned.
It fucking hurt.
She knew that she'd be bruised that night.
Fuck him.

He stopped hitting her only to focus on fucking her. She clung to the table and cried softly. Not willing to let any of her noises further than her lips. There was only so much she could give him.

Fuck him.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

The ways in which this was different from every other time with her continued to pile up. Now, it was perhaps the last one coming into play.

He always held back with her, always exercised his self-control - often times with more than a little temptation from her to give it up - always denied himself so he could deny her, but all leading to a crashing peak that left both of them shuddering and breathless.

There was no holding back this time. No concern of leaving her shuddering or breathless or remotely satisfied. Each thrust into her drove himself towards his orgasm, to the complete disregard of hers. The moan he'd heard was involuntary, of that he had no doubt, but though she may be enjoying it on some level, it was nothing he worked for. Nothing he gave a single fuck about.

It was, then, his own orgasm that rapidly approached. The deep feeling within that told him he was growing close, every thrust back into her ass pushing him closer, closer, closer.

He fucked her at a frenetic pace now, shaking the table under her with his thrusts, yanking her hair back as he drove forward to increase the force of each drive into her clutching ass.

"Fucking.... god."

Each thrust pulled another grunt from him, each sound more urgent than the last. He pounded her, no mercy, no regard to the pain she may feel with each thrust. His release approached, and he would use her body to reach it.

"Fuck..." Thrust. "...fuck..." Thrust. "...fuck..." Thrust. "...fuck....fuckfuckfu-"

His words were cut off by a long, hard groan, and he pulled suddenly from her again. His hand was quickly around his length, and with two quick strokes he was spilling hot seed on her.

The beginning was hard, thick ropes of cum arcing to her shoulders, her hair, along her spine. His hand stroked, extending the peak as long as he could, covering her skin with as much of it as he could before it finally began to subside, and for a moment he slumped against her, catching his breath.

Moments ticked by....





....breath....



....breath....





....deep, chest-expanding breath....





His hand loosened in her hair.









Released.











Fingertips fell to her shoulder blades, drug lightly down her back, making trails in the cum left there.











He leaned over her, arms wrapped around her middle, and pulled her up and off the table, her body back against hers. Ignoring his seed on her that now clung to him as well.






.....breath.....









Slowly, he bent, a forearm slipping behind her knees, pushing forward to bend them. His other arm slid across her back, and he lifted her to into his arms.







.....breath......









He held her there for a moment, amidst the chaos, holding her against him.















....breath....









Lifting his arm a bit, he lowered his lips to her cheek, a soft, short kiss against her skin.










....breath.....







Wordlessly, carefully, he carried her out of the dining room, through the living room, past broken glass and spilled liquor, up the hallway he'd dragged her down, and into the dark bathroom.

He turned on the light with his elbow, revealing a small leather bag resting on the counter. The only thing he'd brought with them, items only of use to him now.

After.

With his heel, he closed the door behind them.

Water was turned on.

Time was spent.

Silent.

Slow.

Gentle.

Water was drained.

And only then, as a small vortex of clouded water formed, was a whisper given.

"Let the drain take it all..."