• 19 • fellatio

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⚠️ SKIP THIS ENTIRE PART IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE EXTREME DEGRADATION, POWER PLAY AND BDSM DYNAMICS ⚠️

[Warning: degradation, oral sex, etc. might be teensy bit intense but it's imp for the story so...]

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Breathe.

That was the last thing you could do right now.

Of course.

With his body pressed on yours, dripping wet, chills passing through both of you, massive burst of dominance sprouting out from his every action.

It left you breathless.

Whimpering.

Your bodies drenching the back seat of his car, he had carried you inside by throwing you on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes that weighed absolutely nothing. The rain thundering outside, splattering on the metal of the car. The sound was unconsciously written in your brain now.

His gaze didn't frighten you, it terrified you.

A monster trapped in your gorgeous, art teacher.

And with his hand firmly gripping your neck, like it was the best necklace you could ever have, your surroundings were blurry.

Everything was a fucking blurry mess except him, his furious pants on your skin and a stoic, unforgiving glare looking down at you.

It was crippling.

He was protecting me from himself before.

"Haven't I made it clear a hundred times before, chérie?" He questions through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on your pitiable neck.

You didn't pity it though. Far, far from pity it.

His aphrodisiac voice, his superior arrogance looked at you as if you were a pathetic problem he needed to deal with, because you were his submissive, he had to put you in place. Your body tried arching back and salacious moans creamed the atmosphere, he grunted in the hottest way, was soaked wet in the hottest way and was punishing you in the hottest way.

"I-I'm sor-rry," you choked, couldn't almost say it with his hand around your neck. His face stood barely a centimetre away, a hard stare to maintain and you ended up casting your eyes down. His tee was stuck to his front body, the material creased and soaked on his rock hard abs and bulging chest showing them, finally, in their truest form.

He laughed hearing your words, it was sinister. It was malicious, the kind when you know you can't escape. You can't escape him now, you never could.

"Sorry's won't get you nowhere with me. I'll get some real, fucking sense hammered into your skull. I like you. I've had every kind of girl you could think of, but I've never met my kind. Those sluts I had in the past were a fucking second in my life, they don't mean anything to me," he spoke each word clearly, deliberately slow as if stamping them in your mind once and for all.

"But since, you decided to start acting like a slut too. I've no choice but to treat you like one." With each sentence, you could feel his teeth getting gritted harder and he paid no heed to you whimpers, or your hand clawing his, your subtle intention to cry. His words were softer than his actions, the power in the way he was treating you was degrading.

Filthy.

The covers of the backseat were completely wet now as both of your bodies kept dripping.

Sl-Slut?

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐝 ● 𝐉𝐉𝐊Where stories live. Discover now