The Masquerade

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Possessed to Exhaustion

He was covered in sweat and I knew I was to. From my body tightening. Then relaxing to accept him more deeply.

The sounds he was making were primal. Deep and guttural as he pounded me like a stallion rutting an unwilling mare. In and out. Up and down. Embedding until his sack rubbed against my soft lower lips. Stretching my pussy to an impossible size.

Parting me inside so the mushroom shape of his tip could probe the entrance even deeper inside me. The tiny fragments of flesh trying to protect my womb from his intrusion. But he strained deeper and deeper. Pleasured sounds billowing out of him.

At one point the exhaustion and constant motion of his thighs slapping the back of mine made one of my feet slip inward, blocking him.

He slipped out abruptly and growled in aggravation. Scooping my thigh and shoving it aside. Leaning over to whisper warningly. “I’ll fill your ass, I vow it. Stay out of my way and give me your little hole.”


What choice did I have? He worked my body harder and harder. His wild rhythm making the chair slam against the floor.

Bump. Bump. Bump.

My toes ached from being balanced on them, but I didn’t dare let my foot slip again. I already ached inside. Not sure how much more my body could take.

“Mmm. Yes…” He swore. “You feel so good. I’ll have more. I’m going to fill you to brimming with my cum. Scream for me, Circe.”

I shook my head. Tightening my lips until my mouth whitened.

But he hit against me harder. The pressure of the chair pushing the bottom of my stomach and making the intensity of him nearly withdrawing then entering me brutally again so intense I once gave a squawk of objection at the sudden pressure.

“Rogue, Please.”

“That’s right beg me. Beg me for more.”

“I’m so sore…”

“You’ll get used to it. Just take it, Sweet Circe. I’m about to fill you.”

I hated him in that moment. Hated his gender, hated his kind and was waiting to be done with him. To stalk from his company and never see him again.


His fist tightened on my small breast. Holding the weight of it as it bounced against his hands. He gripped me from both ends. Thrusting into my hole and clutching my breast. Unrelenting.

I was exhausted. “Please. Just finish with me. I just want to go home.”

“You’ll be home soon enough.” This time there was nearly compassion in his voice as firelight danced over my bare back and the sheen of sweat shining along my skin.

“Come.” He reared away from me, pulling his rod out.

I blew a relieved breath at the reprieve. Feeling swollen and stiff inside. He caught my arm and pulled me around the front of the chair.

What’s this? What’s he doing now?

He shoved be back into the chair. The seat catching my knees and making me fold back until I was seated in it. Then he viciously yanked my legs up and pulled my ass down to the edge of the seat while he knelt between my legs. Positioning himself just over my entrance.

He lifted my legs and crossed them at the ankles along one of his shoulders. Crossing a forearm over them to keep them in place. My feet propped next to his ear.

With his other hand he pulled me down until my ass hung just off the edge of the seat. Lowered, so when he entered me the weight of my own body seated me firmly atop him. Planting him deeply into my core.

Without preamble, he entered me roughly. Grunting in satisfaction.

I screeched at the sudden intensity. The pain of the soreness rushing back as he filled me again. Stretching my body which was so unaccustomed to such use.

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