Primal Instincts

Want It Now ⬆️

"I know you're here, liebling."

Without thinking, you barreled out from your hiding spot, sprinting past him and back down the trail you had previously tracked down. There was clumsiness in your movements, swerving to avoid those low hanging branches. The glade could be seen up ahead, hope filled you.

Abruptly, you were thrown onto the floor of the forest, the impact making the air leave your lungs. As soon as you were ready to stand and sprint once more, a force was pushing you down, then you heard him.

"Found you."

The realization that his boot was the thing pressing you down made your face heat up, the inferiority of it causing a sense of shame. Your limbs kicked and flailed, seeking a way out, but it was all for naught. König towered over you, even more menacing with you being so low to the ground. Taking his foot away, he quickly replaced it with his body, pinning you down as he straddled your waist.

"Didn't put up much of a fight, did you?"

His laugh was sinister, his contentment with catching you so quickly, clear.

His eyes bore into you as you attempted to escape beneath him, despite knowing it was futile. He enjoyed the weakness you displayed, both aware that there was no way out. As if he had been prepared, waiting for this moment since he arrived home, he grabbed rope that was tucked into his pocket. After flipping you around with ease, he secured your hands behind your back, musing at your subtle cries of frustrations.

"Scream, cry, no one will hear you, mein liebling, you are stuck here with me."

A clinking sound alerted you and it came to your realization that he was undoing his belt, whipping it off in one go. As soon as it was off his waist, it was around your throat, fastened in place like a makeshift lead, tightening it as he gave it a yank.

"Pretty little thing, caught and ready to be devoured."

His voice was nothing but a growl, fist pulling on the belt so your head was lifted from the ground, your throat constricting as he leaned down.

"Going to fuck you until you're begging me to stop, until you're crying from how good my cock feels."

Despite the fear creeping up on you, the ache in your cunt couldn't be denied, already making a mess of the panties you wore. He went silent, grabbing for something tucked into his vest, then your skin, dampened with sweat despite the chilled air, was met with the cool metal of a knife. The tip of it, sharpened to precision, ran down your spine, goosebumps erupting across your flesh. The blade stopped at your tank top, then with a flick of his wrist, the fabric fell to your sides, pooling around your breasts.

"Are you scared, liebling?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good."

Just as he did your shirt, the jagged edges of the blade made quick work of ripping through the fabric of your shorts, quickly discarding them. His eyes looked at the damp spot that formed in the soft cotton of your underwear, a chuckle leaning those perfect lips. A swift yank of the belt and you whimpered, head forced back even more, breath even more constricted.

"What a whore," he began, your breath hitching as the tip of the blade glided lightly over the crotch of your panties, till it stopped at your clit, "tell me you want me to hurt you, beg for it."

"Please," your response came, breathless, needy, desperate, "I want you to hurt me, to make me cum from the pain."

"Good girl."

Just like your other articles of clothing, the underwear were stripped from you, leaving you bare for him. He situated himself between your thighs, then was nudging his knee up until it rested against your core, your slick seeping into his pants. Another pull of his wrist, first twirling the leash around until it was wrapped around itself, making your back arch, your pussy pressing further down onto his muscled thigh.