Xavier's voice sliced through the air, as merciless as his stare. "Are you sure you want a cock inside your needy little pussy?" His fingers grazed her heat, the head of the dildo pressing insistently against her. Cathleen's body responded with an eager betrayal, her folds parting in silent plea.
"Please," she managed to gasp out, the sharp edge of her usual defiance now dulled by raw need. "I thought you asked me if I was ready already. Please, Xavier, I'm ready."
"Tell me how bad you want it," Xavier demanded, his words a velvet threat that sent a shiver down her spine.
"I want it so bad," Cathleen groaned, unable to disguise the craving woven into every syllable. Her hips betrayed her, seeking friction, grinding against the unyielding silicone head.
"Please, just do it. Just fuck me with the damn dildo, please!" The words tumbled from her lips, a cascade of surrender.
Xavier's response was a pause, the kind that stretched seconds into eternities. The dildo retracted, and Cathleen's whimper filled the void-pathetic, raw-the sound of starving desperation.
He relented not a moment too soon-or perhaps far too late for her sanity. The head of the dildo pressed back at the entrance that clamored for its return. Slowly, with torturer's precision, he pushed it in. The thick head breached her, and a tremor shook Cathleen's core. She teetered on the brink of oblivion, feeling every vein, every ridge, as Xavier drove the toy deeper, inch by painstaking inch.
Cathleen's body yielded, her inner walls stretching wide to accommodate the relentless intrusion. The silicone beast was unyielding, a cruel invader that seemed endless. Each inch forced its way in, and Cathleen gasped for air, mouth agape in silent scream. Her nerves were alight, singing an aria of raw pleasure. The heat inside her spread like wildfire, every inch threatening to consume her whole before the full length had even claimed her.
"Xavier..." she panted, her voice a ragged thread of sound. She was lost, adrift in a sea of sensation, each wave crashing harder than the last.
"You like it, Cat?" Xavier's voice cut through the fog of her lust, sharp and demanding. He drove home the final inch with a punishing thrust, and she bucked beneath him, nearly dissolving into pure ecstasy.
"Answer me," he growled, "or I'll leave you here, gaping and stuffed."
"Please," she begged, the plea ripped from her throat. "Don't leave me like this." Her hips churned in a frantic dance, seeking relief, seeking more. The chains clinked their obscene rhythm, broadcasting her neediness to the uncaring room.
Xavier's fingers returned, tracing the delicate stretch of skin around where the dildo impaled her. She twitched, sensitive to every tormenting touch.
"Fuck me, Xavier, please, Daddy." She gasped, not caring how desperate she sounded. Her mind was clouded, overrun by the singular desire for more-more depth, more pain, more of him. She was his instrument, strung tight, and played mercilessly.
"Xavier, please!" Her voice cracked on his name, the word a talisman against the relentless tide of pleasure that threatened to break her apart.
Xavier's gaze pinned her beneath him, and with a calculated slowness, he began to withdraw the dildo. The torturous slide against her tender walls coaxed a raw sob from Cathleen's lips. The room spun, and her senses narrowed to the sweet agony of emptiness inch by agonizing inch. Pleasure teetered on the brink of pain-a knife-edge that threatened to slice her open with every pull.
"Xavier," she gasped, voice ragged, "please."
Her plea was a mere whisper amid the cacophony of her racing heart. The building climax loomed over her like a storm cloud ready to burst.
"Shh, Cat. Just feel it," Xavier murmured, his voice as dark as the look in his eyes.
She couldn't hold back the screaming when the orgasm finally crashed into her. It splintered her body, shattering her into a million pieces of light and heat that seared through her veins. She writhed, chains clinking in a frenzied tempo, her breath coming in choked gasps as wave after wave of release rolled over her.
"Fuck, Xavier-ah!" Her words dissolved into incoherent cries.
Yet there was no reprieve. As she trembled in the aftermath, Xavier adjusted his grip on the silicone length, resuming his cruel rhythm. Shallow thrusts punctuated the air, each movement a sharp snap that kept her hovering at the precipice.
"More... oh God, more..." Cathleen's voice broke on the demand, her body a testament to the relentless pleasure he wielded with such precision.
The power he held over her was intoxicating-the way he played her body, drawing out moans and whimpers with each calculated stroke. It was a symphony of sensation, orchestrated by the very man who had vowed never to love her.
"Feel that, Cat?" Xavier's tone was edged with satisfaction. "You're mine to use, to fuck, however I want."
She could only nod, her mind muddied by the onslaught of sensations. He continued moving the dildo, now slow and deep, the kind of thorough fucking that stretched and filled her until she thought she might break. But she didn't want to break. She wanted to be broken by him again and again, until there was nothing left but her raw need.
"Xavier," she panted, the name a mantra that fueled the fire burning inside her. He was relentless, and she was helpless under his command. Here in this room she was his-his to take, his to keep.
Xavier's grip tightened, the veins in his forearms bulging with each deliberate push. The silicone girth stretched her mercilessly, the slick sound of it moving within her filling the room.
"Fuck... please..." Cathleen's plea was a raspy whisper, her throat raw from earlier cries.
"Please what?" He held power in his voice, a dark promise lingering in every syllable. "Speak up."
"More," she gasped, the word barely escaping as she braced against the bench. Her body ached for release, but he set the pace, torturously slow, denying her the satisfaction she craved.
"Needy slut," Xavier murmured, almost affectionately. His hand petted her thigh, a stark contrast to the torment he administered.
Cathleen shivered, knowing that by morning, regret would stain her thoughts. But now, beneath Xavier's unyielding control, shame was an afterthought, obliterated by undulating waves of pleasure that threatened to crash down upon her once more.
"Harder," she begged, her voice edged with desperation. "Please, Xavier-harder."
He obliged, thrusts gaining momentum, each one a calculated stroke meant to break her resolve. She clung to consciousness, riding the edge of something monumental.
Her world narrowed to the thick toy shoving into her, retreating, then slamming back home. It was all sensation, all consuming, and entirely, irrevocably, out of her control.
"Xavier!" The name tore from her lips as another climax erupted, her vision blurring white-hot around the edges. Sensation engulfed her, a relentless tide that swept away thought, leaving only quivering flesh and fractured moans.
She collapsed onto the bench, spent and shaking, the aftershocks of ecstasy still coursing through her. Her chest heaved, lungs desperate for air, heart pounding a frenzied beat.
"Good girl," he praised, voice low and thick with gratification. "Took it all like you were made for it."
Cathleen could only nod, too overwhelmed to speak. Laying there, broken and blissful, she surrendered to the quiet care of Xavier's hands as they began to untie her bonds.