⛓ • we'll never have sex ;; peter ballard ;; ❤︎

five

In return to his slap you jerk away from his touch, Peter doesn't like this at all. He grabs one of your hips with his free hand, his thumb purposely digging into your scab. He pulls you towards his fingers and holds you there, making you take them all and when he adds a fourth finger into you, you're sure you're going to break apart like you're made from porcelain.

You let out a strangled cry of his name, and the stretch is enough to make tears come to your eyes. Your hips are stuttering, trying to drag away from the rough intrusion but Peter doesn't let you move whatsoever. You gasp and sniffle out his name, begging for him to be gentle.

And then his thumb starts pushing into your bundle of nerves, sending pleasure straight to your head. You're dizzy, the world spinning around you as you edge closer and closer to your high. Drool collects at the side of your mouth and when Peter's fingers curl, you practically purr.

It's distinctly different from your whines, more drawn out and ditzy sounding. You try to speak, but your tongue is tied from the pleasure and you simply babble random words. You say how Peter is so good, how you'd let him do anything to you and beg for more.

Peter is amused by your shameless display, the lack of modesty making him chuckle as he buries his fingers inside of you. The sound of his laughter goes straight to your clit, and your thighs tighten around his wrist. You're so close, the pain and pleasure building higher and higher until you're walking on clouds.

Then his thumb flicks your clit, and your eyes roll back for a moment. Your hands clenching and unclenching as you pull harshly against your cuffs, needing to hold onto the man behind you. Peter knows how badly you need this, this moment of being absolutely defenseless. You have nothing to protect yourself with, you're completely at his mercy.

You think it frightens you, but Peter knows this excites you in reality. You're so used to living off of rules, off of what other people tell you to do that it feels so good to be ordered around like a dog. He knows you get off on this, this feeling of weakness.

"Look at you. You're so perfect like this. Beneath me." And then the dam breaks, you let out a long hard cry as you cum. It runs down your thighs and the hand clutching your hip moves to your clit as he bends over you. You squirt all over his fingers, it ruins his sleeves and coats his hands.

You're shaking aggressively, your thighs convulsing. You go from clamping down on his hand to opening your legs further, and you can't decide if this is all you'll ever need or not. Turning into putty at his touch, ecstasy because of his hands, him playing with you for all of eternity.

You pant heavily, droplets of sweat rolling down from the nape of your neck and stinging the cut along your spine. Your brain catches up to your body, and you realize Peter hasn't stopped toying with your body.

You're on the brink of another orgasm already, and the overstimulation is overwhelming. You're crying, hard and it racks your bones. There's a tightness in your ribcage, as you let out a strangled cry.

You cant get far enough away from his touch, it feels so good and painful and it's a dizzying experience. It gives you whiplash as he pulls at the pathways in your brain by using your cunt to control every reaction you give him. And too soon you're cumming, it's weaker and takes more out of you.

But Peter doesn't stop. In fact, he speeds up.

"You-You said you'd be gentle!" You're sobbing, tugging at your cuffs harshly. You do everything to get Peter to empathize with you, giving him puppy dog eyes which just makes him shake his head and smile.

"I said I might be, my darling girl, is this too much for you? Would you like a change of pace?"  You nod, taking your bottom lip under your teeth to try and force yourself to calm down. Your chest heaves and you let out a sigh of relief when his hands pull away.