You have a free day and spend it lounging in your apartment, not really planning to do much of anything, just casually enjoying yourself. The last few days have been hectic and so you stayed in bed at your leisure, but got up a while ago and had breakfast even though it’s pushing lunch time.
Your phone is in your hand and you check for new messages, but again there are none. You’ve been a major brat to your playmate of choice for a few days now, feeling rather secure because of the distance between you and the fact you won’t see him for another month. But apparently you’ve annoyed him a bit too much, there was no message waiting for you after waking up and even though you keep checking your phone, you plan to let him cool off on his own terms, a chill running down your spine as you imagine the consequences if he was around.
You laze around on your couch, checking social media, all in all not being very productive when the doorbell rings.
You’re not really dressed to entertain, as you didn’t expect anyone. Hastily you pull on a blouse you find first and some shorts. The doorbell rings again and you hasten to your door.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” you say and open the door.
For a moment your brain refused to work, because what you’re seeing has to be some kind of dream. He can’t be here.
“Miss me?”, says the familiar voice, rough and under firm control. You fucked up. Oh, did you fuck up. Panic sets in and you try to slam the door shut, but it gets caught by a male hand and won’t budge further. Before you know what you’re doing you bolt, running away from the door, managing a good three steps, before something catches your blouse from behind and negates your momentum, pulling you back and you end up smacking onto your butt. You’re let go and hear the door closing.
“Teasing me for days and then running when I make the effort to pop in? Where are you manners?”, chides a deceptively calm voice. You make to stand up, but get casually pushed down again. Growling you roll over and get on all fours to push yourself up, this time managing two steps before you’re grabbed by the arm and roughly thrown onto your couch. Landing on your back, you’re not fast enough to prevent a knee from being pressed into your stomach, fixing you in place. You won’t go down without a fight though and do your best to pull your legs up and get them between you to get some leverage to push him away, hands doing their best to fight against the hand grabbing down at you. For a moment you manage to fight him off, but a hand grabs your wrist and the other one slaps you roughly. Shock and pain stop your offensive for a moment and it’s all that’s needed. Rough hands grab your blouse and tear it open, buttons flying through the room, exposing your tits to him. You claw at the hands grabbing them firmly, kneading them, rolling your nipples between their fingers.
“You can’t think you’ll actually fight me off? Teasing me, being a brat all week long. You should have known I would have my fill of you,” is growled at you and you start to deny it, fight it, try to tell him to fuck off, but a hand snatches your throat and all protests dry out with your air supply. His eyes practically glowing as he looks into yours, telling you without words that “No” is not an option.
The other one rips your blouse open further, not taking into account if you wanted that particular one to survive this encounter. You press your legs firmly together, as the hand moves down, hooks into your shorts and panties and pulls down. Fighting with renewed vigor, not about to give up so easily, you leave deep scratches all up his arms, fighting to get a grip, struggeling for all you’re worth.
“I don’t have the patience for this. I’ll enjoy myself now and we’ll get to your punishment later,” the hand on your throat lets you go and you inhale deeply, getting valuable oxygen into your system, but then you hear a knife snap open. It enters your vision, a slender, deadly switchblade, making its lazy way to replace the hand on your throat.
You go still.
“Now that’s a good girl. Much better,” you hear the amusement in his voice, as he pulls your shorts and panties down your legs, leaving you in only your ruined blouse.
He opens his pants and, careful of the knife on your throat, you say:” I’m not on birth control…I didn’t know you’d come over.”
His free hand grabs your cheeks and squishes them together, cold glee in his eyes.
“Now, that sounds very much like it’s your problem,” is his answer. With a shudder down your spine, that you refuse to acknowledge travels between your legs, you open your mouth to protest again, but he has apparently waited for it and spits into your mouth the moment you open it.
Shocked, you gape at him, but he just grins and moments later pushes your panties into your mouth, dragging the knife against your skin to make you cooperate. You taste your own juices and realize your body has betrayed you fully.
The knife keeping you under control, he pries your legs open, his hard cock freed from his jeans, you understand how well your teasing has worked, because for all he enjoys to play around with you normally, he just pushes himself between your legs and buries his dick inside of you, groaning pleasently.
You’re acutely aware he is not wearing a condom. The thought refuses to slip from your mind, but as he starts pounding into you it loses the panicked edge as your body enjoys how roughly he makes you his.
The fact that he’ll nut in you and breed you like you always teased him he should, just makes you wetter and a moan slips from your lips, around the panties, that are by now wet with drool.
It’s like blood in shark infested waters, as he latches onto that and rearranges your guts, you pressed into the couch, a knife on your throat, pressing against it, slowly traveling down, not cutting but very present to circle your nipple.
“Such a wet little slut. Eager to get your pussy filled, hm? Don’t worry, I’ll use you a lot these coming days,” there are dark promises in that declaration and the grin on his lips and you know he is going to have his wicked way with you.
You wrap your legs around his waist as he pounds into you, not faster, but harder and harder, nearly pulling out with each stroke, only to impale you again.
He is going to make you cum, like he always does, because you know he loves how your pussy milks his cock. Your head swims with lust, pleasure and the potent mix of panic and enjoyment of what is happening to you.
The pounding doesn’t stop, not when you start to whimper through the panties, not when it turns to moans, not when screams are muffled by the clothing in your mouth.
With a mind shattering lurch you plunge into the first, of probably many, orgasms, your body twitching beneath him and just as you start to come down from it, he explodes into you, with a heavy growl, his throbbing cock filling you with hot, sticky cum, flooding your unprotected pussy.
You’re both panting as he looks into your eyes, half collapsed on you and pulls the knife away, not bothering to remove the panties himself as he pulls out of your very messy pussy.
“Go make us a coffe, you silly girl,” he says, amused as he looks down at your used body, his look alone telling you there are sinful days to come in your near future.
___________________________
Thx for reading
If you liked my story, feel free to tell me
Also open for writing promts, so don’t be shy, just tell me
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ql1efo/mf_you_as_a_primal_sub_get_surprised_used_and_bred
Plz contiue writing this is amazing