Cocky Motherfucker

This is a flash fiction written in direct response to the #cockygate scandal I wrote about yesterday. It’s got plenty of kinky fuckery, some of which some people may find a bit triggering, including face slapping, anal sex, humiliation/degradation and bondage.

If this doesn’t appeal to you, please DO NOT READ FURTHER! If you enjoy it, please give a yell and let me know!

The couple depicted in this story are part of a consensual BDSM dynamic. All acts herein have been thoroughly negotiated beforehand and informed, enthusiastic consent given by both parties prior to and throughout the course of this story. Please do not attempt ANYTHING depicted herein without proper training and negotiation with your partner!

If your name happens to be Faleena Hopkins and you think for one MICROSECOND I give a shit about your ridiculous bullying tactics, send me a C&D notice and then hold my beer. #byefaleena!

Mark Hamill swag
Spoiler: I don’t give a solitary, shiny, sugar-frosted fiddler’s fuck.

“Cocky bastard,” Aria muttered as Kane ripped her blouse open to expose the bare breasts beneath, sending buttons flying all over the floor, shoved her legs apart and pressed her face into the wall.

“What was that?”

Kane’s voice came low, hard and sharp in her left ear, his lips almost brushing her skin, minty breath tickling the side of her face. It was a tone that said, I know exactly what you said and I’m giving you this one chance to take it back.

“I called you a cocky bastard.” In for a penny, in for a pound, Aria thought to herself, dampness starting to leak from between her thighs in earnest. She loved how he could take her body and make it sing, a master violinist bending a perfectly tuned instrument to his will and skill. Sometimes she resented the effortless way he coaxed the exact response he wanted from her, but mostly she could only marvel at his talent when it came to reading her and giving her exactly what she needed most.

“That’s what I thought you said,” Kane said, his velvety tenor acquiring an edge of steel. “That’s ‘cocky bastard, Sir‘ to you. And I think that will be quite enough lip for now.”

With a quick, rough move he tore away her thong panties, now thoroughly soaked with her juices after a full day of wearing the largest butt plug she owned inside her and edging herself every two hours. She gasped and whimpered a little at the suddenness of his hand and the fresh, thrilling burst of desire which thrummed through her body, her mouth dropping open. Before she could close it again, he pushed the sodden panties between her lips. Her eyes went large, tongue suddenly electric with her own flavor, which she had come to appreciate greatly over the last several months as she lapped it from his lips, fingers and cock at his whim.

“That’s better,” he said in a low, dangerous purr. With a sharp gesture he pushed her wrists together with one hand. A moment later she felt the smooth prickling sensation of the thin black jute rope settling over her forearms. He made the double-column tie swiftly, pausing to check and ensure he could fit a finger between her skin and the loops.

Satisfied, he tied the length of rope off and then shoved her face-first onto the bed, legs akimbo, skirt askew and her most intimate parts exposed. Dimly, she realized the purple-jeweled plug was still inserted, and would be winking at him in the pitiless glow from the skylight overhead like a star in the firmament of her most secret flesh.

She didn’t know whether she felt more embarrassed, aroused or impatient.

“No, that won’t do.”

She yelped in surprise as he used the rope binding her arms to roll her onto her back, looming over her like some ancient pagan deity of sex and death. His cold blue eyes studied her minutely, roaming over her body from her exposed breasts to her pussy. My cunt, she reminded herself. KANE’S cunt.

Lovingly, Kane pressed the whole length of his hand to her face.

“Blink twice when you want it.”

Damn him! He had gagged her and was still going to make her ask him to do the one thing she absolutely despised…but the one thing he, and only he, could do to her that would melt her into a helpless puddle of submission, open and ready for anything he wanted to do to her.

She met his eyes for a minute. Two. Three. His hand didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Her eyelids began to flutter as the single long blinks failed to properly moisturize her eyes, but she knew that wouldn’t do it. No, he would be waiting for two, good long blinks which showed intent. He knew she found it humiliating, degrading and above all…desperately, deeply erotic.

Finally, the last shreds of Aria’s will crumbled under the frosty onslaught of his eyes. She blinked.

Once. Twice.

His hand withdrew from her cheek.

Thwap!

The skin of the right side of her face exploded into glorious, shameful sensation which shivered its way down her spine and into her clit, pulling her toes upward and causing every intimate muscle she had to clench with hungry need. She hated that when he buried his cock in his cunt, a slap or three could bring her to a shuddering, incoherent mess of orgasmic bliss all over his hardness, but somewhere deep inside her soul, something stretched, purred and curled in on itself to sleep. She hated that he could take such a humiliating act and make it deeper and more meaningful than a kiss.

And yet she craved it, the release, the feeling of being treated like the whore slut she never allowed herself to express outside his presence.

In the chains of his dominance, she found the freedom of submission she had always craved.

She gasped as his fingers stroked down her body and found her tight nipples. He massaged them, every so often pinching until she cried out around the makeshift gag with mingled pain and joy. Then he moved lower, setting the nerve endings under every new inch of skin his fingers brushed alight with erotic need, until at last he found the crease where her upper thigh met what her parents had called her “no-no place” when she was much, much younger. She whimpered and groaned, arching her back, pleading with every line of her body for the release she’d been so desperately needing all day.

“Oh, does that feel good, little one?”

She groaned and nodded, her eyes telegraphing a desperate signal she knew he could read all too well. Touch me. Use me. Fuck me. Claim me. Just please, oh please let me cum!

He stroked lightly over the lush bush of hair guarding her mons. “Do you want me to touch you here?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered, her nodding more urgent now.

“What about here?” Kane said, his fingers teasing along the rim of her slit.

She squealed, bringing her legs together, futilely trying to capture his hand with her thighs and force him to finish her off, to let her have her climax. To her intense irritation, he pulled away before she could finish setting her velvety snare, licking at his fingers thoughtfully.

“Hmm,” he said. “It seems my little whore has missed me today.”

She pressed her eyelids tightly shut, allowing the tears of frustration and need to fall. If she didn’t cum soon, she was sure she’d burst into flames, starting at Kane’s cunt and not stopping until nothing remained of her but ashes.

“Now keep those legs spread,” he said, the whipcrack of command which almost always burned away any thoughts of resistance. She hastened to obey, spreading herself wide in a disgusting, whorish sprawl which felt oh so right when she did it for Kane.

He returned his hand to the junction of her thighs, moving fluidly and lightly, every feathery touch drawing new sensation to the surface as he slowly slipped between her nether lips and caressed the highly sensitized button of her clit. She gasped and bucked, striving for just a bit more pressure, a little more of the deep, shrill sensation he aroused in her. For one glorious moment, she got it, and nearly came on the spot, but stopped herself in the nick of time.

It was Kane’s cunt, not hers. It was for him to decide when and how she came, not her.

“Ah ah ah,” Kane said, raising his free hand in admonition and then pressing it to her left cheek as he had done for the right. “No, no, my sweet little whore. You can cum in a moment. Understand?”

She nodded, her breath coming in fast, sharp pants of need.

Blinked.

Blinked again.

Thwap!

her body spasms and clenches, the force radiating through her body transmuting from pain to pleasure which dances just on the razor’s edge between agony and ecstasy as her clit catches fire anew and her whole body is one erogenous zone awaiting his touch and her mind empties of everything except the animal urge to rut and fuck and abase herself and give herself utterly to him in every way he could possibly desire

Aria came back to herself on her face, her buttocks cold and slick, her rear passage oddly empty after a long day of the plug. She heard the telltale raspberry noise of Kane squeezing out lube, smearing more of the slippery substance on himself, then on her, back and forth, probing inside her to ensure she was properly prepared.

So that’s how it’s going to be, is it? she thought. Cocky bastard…won’t even let me have a clitoral orgasm!

Then all thought fled as he slowly pushed the head of his cock past the tight ring of her anus. She cried out, her entire being focused on the hot invasion of his flesh into her body by tantalizing millimeters at a time. The sensation was so sharp and hot she almost shuddered into a climax, but he managed to just avoid tipping her over the brink, pausing with consummate skill before delving deeper into her ravaged backdoor.

At last, at long, sweet last, he came to rest against her buttocks with a growl, his scrotum heavy and heated against her slit. He pulled out with the same agonizing slowness he’d entered, and she whined through the thin cotton of her cunt-flavored panties at the loss of him by achingly slow increments, until only the head of his rigid cock remained inside her.

“Are you ready, little whore?” His voice came out in a rasp. Somewhere deep inside, she smiled. It was good that she was getting to him at least as much as he was her, a way to get her own back a little.

She nodded, biting down on the fabric filling her mouth.

He thrust deep, withdrew, thrust again, using her with no more thought or care than if she had been a sex doll.

She howled, her body collapsing around him as she crested and tumbled off the edge into the glorious abyss of release. Dimly, she could feel him still pounding into her, hard and firm, his strokes urgent and hungry as he clawed at her buttocks and his own release.

She came again. And again. And again.

Just when she thought she could take no more, when she was opening her throat to make the three quick grunts which signaled he needed to stop, his cock hardened even more. His balls drew up tight, now slamming against the opening of his cunt instead of folding around to strike her greedy clit. His fingers clutched at her buttocks with such ferocity she knew, in some distant, detached chamber of her mind, that she would bear the marks for days with relish and honor.

He exploded.

Pulse after pulse of his hot seed shot into Aria’s body, and she took every drop of him, his climax triggering another of her own. This one was less physical, more spiritual and mental, an orgasm straight from her heart, born of her love and desire for Kane. She screamed around the gag, a joyful wail of release, as she felt him grow flaccid and slip from between her ass cheeks.

time goes away and she floats, drifting on a mindless crimson cloud of satiation which bears her up effortlessly, her body useless, her heart and soul singing

When she came to, she saw Kane’s face twisted into a mask of concern. “Aria?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s your name?”

“Aria, Sir.” She noted as she said it the panties/gag had vanished while she drifted in the ecstasy of subspace.

“Do you know where you are?”

“I’m at home.” Her voice came drowsy and childlike in her ears, which seemed only fitting. Only Kane could take her innocence over and over and yet restore it to her at the same time.

“Who are you?”

“I’m your whore slut. And you’re a cocky motherfucker, Sir,” she finished with a flourish, sticking out her tongue at him in a way she could only get away with in moments like these, after his wolf had been sated and he had spent his passion so he lacked the strength to discipline her for her brattiness.

“Fucking right I am,” he said with a low chuckle, gathering her into his arms. She relaxed against him, at peace, at one with her soul for the first time in days.

 

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