My body burned with a nagging desire the entire week. No matter how many times I sought relief on my own, my own fingers felt clumsy and inadequate.They could not recreate the feeling of his, and every attempt only served to stroke the fire of my need into an inferno.
The following week, my eyes immediately started roaming the seats in search of him the moment we entered the hall. I spotted the flash of silver hair and his broad shoulders as my family was led to a pew a few rows behind his, and a sharp pang of disappointment hit me. Would he even know I was here? Would he be disappointed by our distance, too? My eyes were fixed on the back of his head as we all rose for the initial greetings. As we turned to bid our neighbours good morning, his eyes swept across the crowd and caught mine. A slow, knowing smirk spread across his lips as he realized I had been staring, and in that instant, I felt my core grow wet. I squeezed my thighs together, trying to quell the sudden, desperate ache that bloomed.
The first half of the service was pure torture. Every nerve ending was focused on the fire burning between my legs. I tried to ignore him, to keep my gaze locked on the speakers and my mind on the words, but time after time, my eyes drifted back to the silver flash of his hair, to his hands, remembering the feel of them deep inside me.
My head was bowed in a desperate attempt at focus when a shadow fell over me. I looked up from under my lashes to see him standing in the aisle beside my row. He wasn’t looking at me, but at the back of the hall, his expression one of neutral focus. As if shifting his weight to continue his exit, his hand came to rest on the back of my pew, his fingers brushed deliberately against my shoulder. The touch was firm, meaningful. A brand. A silent command that needed no words. My heart hammered against my ribs; I understood instantly. He wanted me to follow.
I waited a minute, two… maybe three before I stood up, a quiet excuse to my parents that I needed to use the washroom and slipped out the back, following the man. I quickly scanned the atrium outside the hall and caught sight of his broad, retreating back as he made his way downstairs to the community hall.
It was an open hall in the basement with several chairs scattered, left from its last use as a meeting room. The washrooms lay at the further end and I made my way over in that direction, unsure as to where he had gone.
”There’s my good girl,” the deep voice rumbled as I stepped into the dark hall that led to the washrooms. He was standing in the handicapped washroom, the only single room with a lock. His voice sent a thrill through me. I had been right. I had understood. I stepped into the washroom with him and he locked the door behind us.
The lock clicked into place, the sound echoing off the tiled walls, unnervingly loud. Before I could even turn to face him, his hands were on me. One hand wrapped around my neck, pulling me back against him, while the other wrapped around my waist, holding me flush against his chest. I could feel the hard, insistent length of his cock pressing against me through his trousers.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear, his musky scent flooding my senses and I gasped, body tingling with that familiar scent. His hand around my waist slid down the front of my dress, fingers dipping below the hem. His fingers found my slick, bare folds with no resistance and a low, pleased rumble sounded in his chest.
”Good girl. Did you do this for me?” He murmured, his fingers parting my wetness, hardly waiting for an answer, before he slid two fingers deep inside me. I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped from my lips and I arched myself into him, grinding my cunt into his hand. His palm pressed into my clit, fingers curling to stroke a spot deep inside that made my legs tremble.
“So wet,” he whispered, his voice laced with dark satisfaction. He slowly withdrew his glistening fingers and brought them up to my face, smearing my wetness across my lips and pushed his fingers in my mouth, forcing me to taste my own arousal. The act was filthy, humiliating, and it sent a fresh wave of heat through me.
After I sucked his fingers clean of my dripping desire, he bent me over the sink and flipped up my skirt. I watched in the mirror as he unbuckled his belt and pants to pull out his thick cock. My eyes widened at his girth and my core clenched in greedy anticipation.
“You’ve been dreaming of this cock all week, haven’t you?” He murmured as he slid the head of his cock over my pussy folds, gathering my wetness around the crown, teasing me. “Did you touch yourself imagining it was my fingers in you again?”
“Y..yes. Yes!” I panted, my face flushed with embarrassment, and desperate need. “But it didn’t feel as good as you.”
He chuckled, a low, predatory sound at my confession and pressed his hips forward, the cock head splitting my folds as it entered me inch by inch. He didn’t stop until he was buried to the hilt, his hips flush against my ass. The feeling was overwhelming. The intense stretch that bordered on pain, a deep, satisfying fullness amplified by the deep seated need and anticipation that had been growing for weeks.
My hands gripped the edges of the sink to keep myself upright and he held himself there for a moment, letting me feel every thick inch of him inside me.
”Tight little thing,” he grunted, his voice strained with his own pleasure. He met my eyes in the reflection. “Look how well you take me.”
He didn’t stay still for long, however. He pulled back and with one sharp, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside me again. The air was punched from my lungs in a strangled cry. He set a punishing rhythm immediately, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise my delicate skin as he slammed into me again. All I could do was hold on and take it, my body nothing more than a vessel for his pleasure, a thought that sent me spiraling towards a blinding orgasm.
I felt it then, the pressure of his thumb seeking entry. I cried out as he forced it in, the thick digit stretching me, claiming the tight space his finger had explored last week. He timed the thrusting of his thumb with his cock, both pumping in and out of me in a devastating rhythm, the dual fullness overwhelming my senses again, blurring pain and pleasure into one mind-breaking sensation.
“I’m.. I’m going to cum… fuuuuck” I groaned out as he continued to punish my cunt and ass, bruising my cervix with his cock and stretching my ass with his thumb. Just as I felt the first wave of my orgasm crest, he withdrew his thumb, leaving me achingly empty for a split second before two thick fingers replaced it, forcing a new, sharper stretch that sent me teetering off the edge.
My vision went white, and I just barely had the wherewithal to cover my mouth as I cried out my climax. My body convulsed around his cock and fingers and my breath grew heavy. But throughout the overwhelming pleasure, I felt his rhythm change. He pulled out of me abruptly, leaving me feeling suddenly hollow and used. Before I could even process the emptiness, however, his hand was fisted in my hair, turning me around and pulling me down to my knees.
”Open your mouth,” he commanded, his voice thick with lust and authority.
I looked up at him, at his magnificent, thick cock glistening with my arousal and obeyed without hesitation. He thrust his cock in my mouth without prelude, and I gagged as he held my head down, forcing the thickness down into my throat. I struggled to take him at first. But the pressure was relentless and I felt him finally sink into my throat. The stretch was painful as my throat struggled to accommodate him but he left me very little time as he began to thrust into me, fucking my throat like he had my cunt.
“That's it. Take it. Take all of me,” he growled, his voice breaking, as he held my head down. With a loud, shuddering groan, he came. Hot, thick ropes of his release shot down my throat, straight into my stomach before he pulled back and let the last few spurts fill my mouth. Obediently and instinctively, I held my mouth open, my tongue swirling around the head as he shook the last drops. He tasted salty, bitter, and undeniably him. He groaned, pleased, at the sight of my open mouth full of his cum.
”Swallow,” he demanded, his voice ragged. I did, closing my mouth and swallowing his essence, my own body still humming with the aftershocks of my orgasm. He looked down at me, a dark, satisfied smirk on his face as he tucked himself back into his trousers. But he wasn’t done. He pulled me up and turned me back around. I thought he might fuck me again, but I felt the cool surface of metal drag through my pussy lips, gathering my juices before a blunt pointed tip press against my ass. He pressed harder, the smooth metal and my juices created very little resistance as the butt plug sank in.
”Keep it there.” He whispered, giving my ass a pat before flipping my dress back down. I shuddered, and heard the door unlock as he left without another word.
It took me another few minutes to compose myself, fix my hair and my dress before I could return to my seat. Each step was a reminder of the fullness of the plug in my ass. I settled tentatively into my seat next to my siblings. The last half of the service was nearly over by the time we returned. He was ahead of me. But I couldn’t focus at all. The memory of his cock, the fucking, was so fresh and the butt plug stretched me with every subtle shift of my body.
The final announcements began, and with them, the cue to stand. Every muscle tensed as I rose. The plug shifted inside me, a sudden, intense pressure that sent a jolt straight to my clit. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping and my hands gripped the back of the pew in front of me. My parents shot me a curious look but I could only shake my head, my cheeks burning with shame. When we finally sat down, the full weight of my body pressed the plug deeper and I had to clamp my thighs together to stop the orgasm that threatened to tear through me right there in the open.
We followed as the crowd began to file out, the chatter a distant buzz. I forced myself to move, my steps small and deliberate, the plug a constant, intrusive presence. He was several people ahead, and as he neared the exit, he paused. He turned, his eyes scanning the crowd until they found mine. There was no smirk this time, just a cool, possessive gaze. He gave a single, almost imperceptible nod. A command, a reminder, a promise, before he turned and disappeared through the doors.
Week 4
I wore that butt plug for hours everyday. It was one with a beautiful jewel on the end and I imagined he picked it out especially for me. Wearing it while I fucked myself with the smooth wooden handle of my brush brought me back each time to the moment in the washroom with his cock and thumb in me. Yet, like last week, touching myself did little to satiate the need that festered uncontrollably.
A restless energy thrummed beneath my skin when the next gathering came around. I immediately saw him as we walked into the atrium. Instead of already being seated, as he had the weeks before, he was engaged in a conversation with staff but his eyes locked onto mine briefly as we passed. I knew he was waiting for me. My family walked in and was directed to a seat of four, forcing me to stand at the back again. I stood in the same place as before, waiting for him to come, as he had a couple weeks ago. But as the final latecomers found their seats and the morning announcements began, a cold knot of dread formed in my stomach. He hadn't come, he wasn't there. Quietly, I excused myself from my spot and stepped out of the hall.
He was waiting for me at the stairs again and descended as soon as he saw me leave. Quickly, I followed him once more downstairs to the same washroom. And as soon as the lock clicked shut, his hands were on me. He pressed my back against the door as his hand wrapped possessively around my throat. My own hands moved without thought, lifting the hem of my skirt, exposing my bare, slick pussy for him. My inner thighs were already coated in my need, and I rubbed them together in a futile attempt to quell the fire between my legs.
But instead of reaching for my pussy as I expected, his hand drifted down my waist and around to cup my ass. His fingers dipped lower, searching, and a low, pleased rumble vibrated from his chest as he felt the hard base of the jeweled plug nestled between my cheeks.
“Such a good girl for me,” he murmured. He gave the plug a hard, sudden push, and the jolt of sensation made me cry out, my back arching off the cold wood of the door.
I heard him unbuckle his belt and the rustle of his pants as they dropped. I felt the hot, thick girth of his cock press against my stomach as he leaned over me. He lifted up my leg and lined up his cock with my cunt and thrust in without warning. I all but cried out, my hands coming to grip his biceps to steady myself. With surprising strength, he hoisted me up, my back against the wall and sank me down into his cock, using my own weight to force me down his full length.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, fingers digging into his shoulders as I succumbed to the overwhelming feeling of fullness. Effortlessly, he picked me up and dropped me back down on his cock, impaling me on his full length again and again. He was using me like a cocksleave, a warm fucktoy, and the thought sent a fresh jolt of arousal through me. Each brutal thrust was a new claim, bruising my cervix as he took what’s his. What I gave freely, eagerly.
The degradation of it, the sheer force of his possession, the utter fullness of his cock and the plug was too much. The orgasm slammed into me without warning, a violent, shattering wave that stole my breath and made my vision go white. My entire body clenched around him, a desperate, milking spasm that I had no control over.
My body was still trembling from the force of my orgasm when he pulled out of me. My legs felt like jelly, but he didn't give me a chance to fall. He simply bent me over the sink like before and palmed the plug. He pulled at it, letting the wide egg stretch me before plunging it back in. I moaned, my hips pressing back and my cunt feeling achingly empty. My need was so apparent, written all over my face, my body. Another rumble of pleasure rolled through him as he pulled the plug out and brought it around, pressing it against my lips. I could smell myself on it, my own musky earthy scent as I opened my mouth obediently and took the plug in my mouth. The weight of it in my mouth was strange and solid, a contrast to the softness of my lips and tongue. The flared base pressed against my lips, forcing my jaws open slightly, and the jewel gleamed obscenely in the fluorescent light, a constant, humiliating reminder of where it had just been.
I felt his cock press against my cunt again, see-sawing in the folds as it gathered my arousal. I felt him move the tip upwards, to press against my recently vacated ass. Looser now with the training. I moaned low, muffled by the plug in my mouth, as I felt the pressure increase, his cock head demanding entry. His girth thicker than his fingers, than the plug. The pressure was relentless and not at all gentle as he forced himself inside. I cried out around the plug as the head of his cock popped past the tight ring of muscle. A sudden, breath stealing stretch that was more intense than anything I had felt before.
He barely let me have time to adjust before he started thrusting in me, back and forth. Each stroke he pulled himself out further and slammed himself back inside harder and harder. My delicate insides felt like they were being turned inside out, rearranged, moulded to the shape of his cock, and his alone. A permanent imprint of his ownership.
His hand reached up and wrapped his fingers in my hair, forcing my back and neck to arch. I stared at him through the mirror, the lewd display of my use reflected back at me as his powerful frame dwarfed mine. I only wished I could see how his thick member split me open and claimed it for himself. He brought his free hand up and slapped my ass hard, over and over again timed with every thrust. Each slap sending a jolt of pleasure and pain mingled through me and I could feel cunt drool again as I approached another climax.
I felt his pace quicken and his grip in my hair tightened. His other hand came up to wrap around my throat, squeezing it tight in a possessive, demanding claim as he pulled me up, impaling his cock deeper into my ass as he came with a deep roar. It reverberated throughout the tiled room and pushed me over as I came, feeling his hot pulsing cock spurt after spurt fill me with his seed. My ass milked him, squeezing and clenching, greedy for every last drop. The plug almost fell from my mouth as my body shuddered with the force of it, a final desperate clench of my jaw, the only thing that saved it from clattering into the sink.
He dropped me back to the sink after biting the curve of my ear, his own breath heavy as he reached around to pull the plug from my mouth, strings of saliva connecting to it before snapping and brought it back to my ass. He pressed it back in, sealing in his cum inside me like a cork in a bottle.
I was left leaning over the sink, trembling and spent as I heard him pull up his pants and leave. It took me longer this time to recover. I shakily made my way back upstairs, just in time to catch the concluding speeches and the final song. I leaned against the cool stone wall, not to ground me, but to feel something solid against a body that felt no longer my own. The fullness in my ass was a constant reminder of him. My eyes scanned the hall, but he wasn't there. Yet, he was. He was in the ache between my legs, the ghost of his grip around my neck, and in the sealed load of cum warming me from the inside out. He hollowed me out and remade me for himself. And I had never felt more complete.