[F4A] From Person to Puddle

Prompt Status: Closed

I huffed an angry sigh in an attempt to quell my rage. It helped. Barely. Another asshole of a human being thinking they’re entitled to being spoonfed and taken care of like a fucking baby. And I had to deal with them, putting on my dotting voice as I pretend to give a shit about their problems. Fucking imbeciles...

Add on an hour of overtime. Two hours. Three hours. I was a volcano on the edge of erupting, and on a Friday no less. Throw in having to slug through rush hour with a slew of incompetent drivers and you have the perfect recipe for a shitstorm about to hit the fan. I ran a couple red lights, barely swerved out the way as countless noises of honking bombarded me, none of them making it through the red blindfold of frustration. And then there was you.

For some reason or another you’d been bratty the whole week. Sarcastic, difficult to manage and just an overall nuisance when you should have been my source of endearing comfort. I’d been far too kind to you, only giving light punishments such as spanking or a bit of rough play. No more. A smile that would make the devil cower in fear thinned my lips. You wanted to play rough, wanted to test me? The gloves were coming off, my hands tightened around the steering wheel as long fingernails dug into the base of my palms.

I haphazardly drew into driveway, parking with the wheels coming to a screeching halt as my sadistic tendencies began to flare with each step I took towards the door. My heels clicked sharply off the rigid ground as I neared, the door slamming to one side. Eyes narrowed on your darkened frame, head bowed down in submission before me. It wouldn’t help your cause, the burning sensation had enveloped me whole and you were about to feel the true extent of my wrath.

The sharp clack of wood being struck beneath me resonated from the floor throughout the hallway as I violently shot a hand into your hair. My fingers curled cruelly around the tufts that were pulled into my fist as I marched onwards. Your cries managed to reach my ears but were disregarded once they helplessly smashed themselves against the walls of anger and malicious desire that held their firm grasps in a deadlock around my mind. Up the stairs I dragged you, letting the floorboards and edges dig into your flesh without a second thought for your wellbeing.

Your ragdoll of a body was thrown against the bed, splayed out with your toes limply laying against the carpeted floor and face stuck in the covers.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay dead,” I told you, my voice a deadly calm that was just the prelude to the storm. With a couple strides I made my way over to the bedside drawer, kicking off my heels in the process and stripping off the dress that would otherwise be ripped by the events that were about to follow. Fumbling a little in anticipation, I peeled off the otherwise ashen white panties that had already begun to darken from the contact with my heated lips.

“A puddle.” I said dryly, barely directing the words towards you as I pulled out the feeldoe, it never failed to make me pause as marvelled at the size of the prosthetic limb and let my hands wrap around the amazingly smooth surface. “I’m going to make you a pathetic mewling puddle of whimpers and tears.” I continued with my voice letting through anger and lust at the edges. Gasping silently, I slid one end inside of me, feeling it begin to stretch my voracious pussy apart.

“And you’re going to beg for me to stop,” I stipulated, voice going back to something akin to matter-of-fact, walking over as my hands whipped through the air, down on your bare cheeks with fingernails scraping against your flesh as I raked them backwards to watch the tight little ass I owned jiggle and redden at the licks of pain I had just delivered. Poor little toy, I haven't broken you before have I?

“Now beg you Mistress for mercy!” I barked, pressing the head of my cock forward, parting the sea of flesh and colliding with your puckered little hole. Even if it wasn't smooth enough, brats like you don't deserve lube. Fingernails hooked themselves into your hips as I thrusted forward.

DPP Profile

As long as you’re ready to take a pounding and then some, feel free to risk a response. I’m not going to be gentle or kind, so you can kiss that notion goodbye.