Nightmare Man (Part 2) - Taking Control

The basement had the stink all damp basements in old houses possess. It was quiet. Muffling all sound to the surrounding houses.

Which left me free to fuck my monstrous pet.

There was the slow drip of water in the cut-out shower.

Tick, tick, ticking. Before it gurgled in the metal pipe.

There were the squeak of the metal table legs, bearing our combined weights as it reared up and back.

I was moaning. Rhythmically. In sequence with my lifting and dropping motions.

“Ugh. Ugh. Ahh. Yes.”

The sound bouncing off the walls and returning to our ears with the vibrating emphasis of a microphone. One of my hands braced my weight, over his thick thigh. My fingernails digging into the haired skin of it. One of my feet were drawn up by his hip. Allowing him to watch my slim, athletic body moving down over him. My pussy opening over his rigid, bark like cock as it stretched its way through me. My lower lips lapping at his length as I stroked myself up and down. Using him to make me feel good, as he’d done to me months ago.

No one has ever accused me of being particularly forgiving.

All of this, the using him, was something I’d become addicted to.

I lifted my body and brought it down, carefully. My rounded hips gliding smoothly. Large breasts bobbing toward my chin. Moving the long black cord that the small oval remote in my cleavage, hung from. Something his eyes often returned to.

The key to his freedom.

My motions sent my long cascade of wet brown hair slapping against my back and hips. Splashing across his chest and rippled abdomen with thick droplets of water. Remnants from my shower.

As I came down, I was swinging my hips forward as I took a little over half of it. Knowing it’s thickness, and that much length, was enough to bring me to a tense climax. Balancing myself on his thigh served another purpose as well. Sitting atop him, I was at risk of hurting myself if I sat fully down on his hardness. Which was always nearly enough to kill me.

Though he’d done it before, it was when he was on top and the pressure had been acutely painful. Ripping my mind from all else.

But right now, he felt amazing. The bulges along the size of his large brown cock stroked inside me. Tugging at my lower lips and catching against my slick walls in a way that drove me mad.

I twitched my body up and down over him. In thin strokes, that built my climax. Making him thud against the metal table in a dull slapping sound.

Skin against metal.

“Give me more.” He coaxed. Straining at the high intensity velcro cuffs around his ankles and wrists. Which were currently pinned near his head. The thick muscles over his arms and wrists strained against the bindings. But the metal cords reinforcing it, and the full wrap around cuff, made it impossible.

He’s mine.

I giggled at his request. Squatting over his tip as I reached forward to stroke the bottom of his strong chin. “You’ll take what I give you. And nothing more.”

The triumph of having him, a large, viral, huge-cocked male here whenever I wished to have him, was beyond satisfying.

A male at my sexual disposal, whenever I wish to have him.

To play with, to ride, to torment.

He roared in frustration.

It had been months since I took him as my captive. But I’d still not forgotten how he’d forced me. Intruding into my body and taking me as if I were his property.

A vessel for his pleasure.

He’d fucked me raw, taking all he wanted from me. Then put me in worse positions, that made me feel irreparably vulnerable.

Like when he stayed next to me while I slept.

Something I’d never let a man do. I grew so furious, merely thinking of it, that my jaw tightened painfully.

But now he was at my mercy. Mine to toy with.

And the one thing I would never do, was sleep next to him.

I gave a shuddering moan as my body hopped up his then quaked as it slid back down. My walls folding around him, stroking him as I came. My dark-nippled breasts hopped, then engaged in tiny bounces while I savored the long ripples of my climax. White beads of my thick lubricant dripped down the side of his veined, straining length, as I finished.

Sighing in relief.

He’d stilled. Watching me intently. His gaze roving over every inch of me. Taking in the pretty tanned skin and the sleek athletic look of my body.

I didn’t mind. Let him ache.

His eyes landed on that remote again, yearningly.

I climbed off him. Hearing the bang of his fists against the metal table. The rattle of the chains linked to it, clanging in the cut out on the table.

His frustration, that he’d not nearly come.

He’d need much more of me than that, to accomplish his.

Well, he wasn’t going to get it.

I glanced over at the big iron collar around his neck. Verifying that it was still secure. I’d personally done the weld at the back, securing it around him. Making it impossible to remove without bolt cutters.

One of the many tools, I’d moved from down here, to the back shed.

He doesn’t have access to any.

Still, I found myself constantly looking at it. Knowing how dangerous he’d be if he was ever free.

He won’t be. I assured myself.