No.
Fucking spikes.
They angle outward, running down the underside, embedded into his sink like a sharp little ladder to hell and I pray to god they’re blunt.
My stomach flips, core clenching and my mind screams run, but my body? My body leans in, my eyes narrowing because I’ve never seen anything like it before.
The tip gleams with precum, a clear sight of how much he’s turned on, and it’s pierced clean through it. A curved bar with two spikes perched at either end like fangs. It’s simply a warning and an invitation to pain.
I should be afraid. Iamafraid. But I’m suddenly wet enough to drown in it. My mouth goes dry, and I swallow hard, wondering how the fuck I’m gonna take that. Will it even fit?
He tilts forward, dragging the pierced tip across my quivering lips, smearing his arousal over them and I allow them to part slightly, not as an offer, but to speak.
“I…”
The second he has the opportunity, Wrath’s grip tightens in my hair, and he yanks my head back so violently my neck cracks with a sickening pop. In the same breath, he forces his big dick past my lips, the sheer girth of him prying my mouth open until my jaw can’t take it anymore.
My eyes expend, my lips pulled so tight at the corners I’m sure they’ll split and bleed. His piercings clash against my teeth, jarring but the moment they slide across my tongue, I thank whatever cruel god that’s watching this moment, made those studs blunt.
Wrath doesn’t give a shit, despite my struggle to take him in, he continues to force himself inside, intent on filling every corner. My fingers claw into the mud, desperate for something to hold onto as my body jolts under the pressure.
The moment he hits my tonsils, a violent gag tears out of me, but he continues to thrust in one violent shove the rest of the way until he’s buried completely, my lips sealed tight around the base.
I choke on the fullness of him, my throat rejecting the invasion, tears streaming down my cheeks as I fight to breathe and relax. He stares down at me, unblinking eyes heavy with something dark and ravenous.
I hear the audible grind of his teeth and see the clench in his jaw as he watches me fight for my fucking life, choking and gagging. He likes to see my helplessness. I can tell by the pulse in his cock, the way it beats on my tongue.
When he finally starts to pull back, it’s torturously slow, each piercing scraping over my tingling tongue. I barely manage a gasp for air before Wrath leans in and sends a sharp spit straight down my sore, open throat, taking advantage to degrade and claim me.
The taste of his saliva hits my tonsils just as he slams his cock back inside, stealing the breath I just caught, forcing me to take every brutal inch all over again. His hand is firm, locking me in place like a vice, giving me no room to pull away.
He growls low, eyes rolling, followed by a dragging gasp as his head tips back in an unnatural way. Then his palm flattens against the back of my head as he leans over, the other hand sinking into the mud behind me for balance. My head’s forced back, tilted extremely uncomfortably until it rests against the cold, wet ground.
And once I’m in the position he wants, pinned and venerable, that’s when he turns brutal.
Wrath wastes no time literally screwing my face. He skull fucks me so cruelly, driving his entire length his massive cock down my throat, I feel like I might pass out from the intensity.
There’s nothing I can do. I’m buried neck-deep in a fucking grave, trapped, every inch of me restricted while he takes what he wants, and all I can do is endure it until he’s satisfied and taught me his fucking lesson.
My gags are violent, sickeningly loud as saliva fills my mouth, coating him and it starts to drip down my chin and neck in thick, hot streaks. My stomach wrenches painfully with each strong heave, my vision starting to darken at the edges as he drives in and out harshly, showing me no remorse.
Above me, he grunts, his fingers sinking into my skull, pressing deep with a painful grip, forcing my head to remain captive under his control.
The weight of his dominance smashes against my face with each thrust and he makes me feel every part of his power as though reminding me, this is nothing. This is only a sliver of what he is capable of. What he’s truly capable of.
Just when I’m on the verge of no return, my eyes rolling into the back of my head from the sheer lack of oxygen, I can feel him growing increasingly swollen and somehow thicker.
Sitting back quickly, he rips himself out of my abused throat and as I take a huge inhale, he steals the opportunity to cum in my open mouth.
Thick, white ropes fill me as he jerks himself, his face taunt with undeniable pleasure.
Seeing him so alive while I’m half-dead does something twisted to me. It shouldn’t, God, itshouldn’t, but it does. It feels so wrong, and yet so unbearably right.
But he’s not finished humiliating me.
He spits in my mouth, again and again, filling me with all his fluids until I’m choking on it, drowning in everything he gives without care or pause.
Then his palm lifts my chin, forcing my mouth shut, and I meet his blood-red eyes through the blur. I stare up at him like he’s the monster hiding beneath my bed, and I’m the idiot who pulled back the duvet and let him in.