"DON'T GET CAUGHT. DON'T GET CAUGHT. DON'T. FUCKING. GET. CAUGHT."
She chanted these words repeatedly, displaying reasons and visualising the aftermath of getting caught.
You'll be bonded. Restrained. Confined. With no freedom over yourself. Prayin...
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My brain was cleaved into two, a part of it was in a room with its walls coloured black and its space basked into absence of light. While the other part of my brain was staggering between storms of emotions concurrently.
Abhorrence. Affliction. Misery.
Pleasure. Comfort. Etherealness.
While my body, writhing and moaning beneath The Commander of The Blackbone Zone, was another kettle of fish. My body overflowed with fatigue, yet I didn't disentangle my legs from around his waist, as my mark blazed and turned hotter, the kind of hot that made the shallow thing pounding inside my chest brim with warmth.
Warmth that made the other part of my brain recoil in disgust.
The labor known as sex felt intoxicating, because everytime The Commander of The Blackbone Zone thrusted roughly drawing another release from me, I flew over cloud nine, yet everytime he pulled out of me for our essential needs– I pounced on him, or either bawled and shrieked like a deranged woman.
I was going disgustingly insane.
I was losing myself.
The feeling was familiar, subtracting the pleasure that made my body tingle.
I had gone insane once.
A long time ago.
I had succumbed to madness.
Insane.
An abnormal lunatic.
It was absurd how even a second away from him quashed my senses. It made my body convulse with insufferable anguish. It made my mark blaze hotter than any fire that existed in the realm of living. This unreasonable circumstance was so awful and distressing that he had to bound my legs and wrists.
Food was forced down my throat, he had to push me to the point of passing out for me to sleep and while he did everything, all that echoed in this lavish condo were unknown whispers of an insane abnormal woman aching for a Commander who seemed to be the centre of her detestation and pleasure.
It was akin to a ritual, The commander of the Blackbone Zone and I were interwined with eachother since days, since I had wantonly asked him touch me and I wondered when these days would end as a soft breath escaped my lungs.
Five days. Five days of sex. Five days of torture.
Five days of anguish in moments of seperation.
Five days of bizarre warmth.
Five days in this wretched heat that women took pride in.
When he ran his nose over my already bruised and bitten breasts, I sucked in a sharp breath and my pussy involuntarily clenched around his thickness that streched me to the point of pain.
