fuguestates | DOING SOMETHING UNHOLY

Just as Monty starts to come, spilling all over themselves, Justin digs his fingers in for balance and pulls his own hips back, sliding into Monty's throbbing, dripping cunt with a loud, slick sound, burying himself deep inside them from behind, forcing his way in roughly. He barely hesitates before he is thrusting in a rhythm, yanking Monty back and forth on the bench and groaning with pleasure at the feeling of their body spasming around the thick, punishing length of his cock, pounding into them over and over, while he continues to rub deliberately at Monty's pierced clit and the dripping length of their little cock with his free hand.

"Hrnng!"

Monty grunts through their nose on reflex. Their body tightens instantly once Justin starts pushing in, forcing the man to use more force and strength to fully sheath himself. There's a moment, right as their Patron grinds the base of their dick against the abused lips of Monty's cunt that they nearly lose it.

But where's the fun in that?

It doesn't take long until Monty's panting and groaning with each thrust, the rhythm haphazard and uneven, Justin's cock a merciless piston fucking Monty open and deep. The combined stimulation of his hand still rubbing indiscriminate shapes against their clit - turning and moving the ring there constantly - is enough to knock Monty almost entirely comatose. They manage to stay conscious, just barely, hopeless and mindless, unable to even think about speaking, their tongue a dumb and useless muscle in their slack mouth, smeared with drool.

"Mm, this was so worth the wait," he murmurs, reveling in the tight, hot heat, the pulsing of Monty's much-abused cunt around the length of his cock. The decorations and weights sway and shift, body-warmed metal covered already with their own release, the piercings tugged and strained. Justin's cock drags perfectly in time with his fingers, stimulating Monty's pierced clit from inside and out, fingers plucking at the ring and tugging at the fine chains trailing from it, while he grinds his cock against the walls of Monty's stretched open cunt.

"Have I already fucked you stupid, little one?" he murmurs with a gleeful, false solicitousness, knowing exactly what game both of them were in agreement on. "I'm not going to stop, you know. You owe it to me. You need to make it up to me. I even prepared, to make up for all those loads you swallowed down these past few weeks. They're going to go right into your needy, desperate slutty cunt, and when that's so full you can't even move without leaking me, I'm going to do the exact same thing to your ass."

Monty's hands are going numb. They clench their fingers weakly, unable to do much else. Justin's hips collide with theirs, shoving their body forward and back, forward and back like a heavy pendulum. The bench legs, trying to contain the weight of them both, squeaks against the floor loudly in the large room, barely drowning out the low, possessive growl of Justin's voice curling like smoke in the shell of Monty's ear, making them even weaker in their limbs.

Across the room is a leaning floor mirror and Monty can't help but catch a glimpse of the picture they're making: their body, pale and slight, being used so brutally, so adoringly; the way Justin's teeth flash white when he clenches them, possession and obsession knotted together in every tight line of his jaw, the grip of his fingers; their own face loose and sloppy, tongue lolling out of their mouth and eyes rolling back.

They don't need to respond, verbally, to Justin's taunts for him to have his answer. That much is clear.

One thing he had always prided himself on - in almost all aspects of his life - was keeping his promises. There were, of course, cases where what people thought he'd promised turned out to be something else entirely, but within the bounds of his own values, he always delivered.

He took especial pleasure in doing so when it came to Monty.

He's almost lost track of the number of times he's cum into their aching, straining cunt, the various liquids mingling together and dripping over the bench, practically spraying out with every thrust, his fingers soaked in it. If it weren't for the beautiful mesh of chains Monty was wearing, the links hooked into their jewelry, Justin might lose track of their clit, but as it was, he can tease them with pinpoint perfection, twisting and yanking on the rings and squeezing around their cock, slippery with their combined release but never quite letting up the constant stimulation. By the time Monty is nearly insensate with pleasure, their thighs quivering with effort and their knees sliding on the bench only to be caught by the bonds around their wrists and Justin's strong hands, Justin has moved on, slick fingers probing perfunctorily at their ass, feeling the way their body opens up perfectly with the ease of habit at the familiar demand, even after weeks of deliberate abstinence.

"Your holes are so good for me, Monty," he whispers, sounding pleases, as he rubs his damp cock between the aching red cheeks of Monty's ass, well-spanked and yet still eager. "They know exactly how they're meant to be used, don't they? They've missed being properly filled and fucked." He arches up, buries his cock home in one long, demanding, purposeful motion, barely giving Monty any room to adjust or shift around the girth of Justin's cock filling his ass.

His fingers pluck deliberately at the chains, pulling on the already strained and weary flesh of Monty's clit and pussy. He knows Monty is far too exhausted at this point to do more than shift slightly in response, but he can still feel their eagerness as he starts to work up a rhythm again, eventually coming twice in their ass, leaving them leaking from all their holes, their little cock spent and twitching with overstimulation while his own cum leaks out, dripping from the bench down to the floor.

"Wake up for me, baby," he murmurs, pulling out of Monty, his cock followed by a gush of cum, dripping down their spread thighs and absolutely ruined stockings and garters. "I want to have you on the floor."

They were starting to sink even further into wordless, comatose submission, but the shock of their Patron filling their ass in one sudden thrust makes Monty's eyes snap open and a sharp gasp squeeze out of their throat.

They struggle to say something, but no words are forming against their teeth, only guttural and nearly animal sounds grind out.

Justin's voice keeps them present, keeps them tethered to the now, to everything that's happening to them. His voice is the one clear anchor Monty clings too even as their body is overcome by excruciating pleasure.

"W-what?" is all they finally - finally - manage to say, the word fumbling on their lips. Their legs are soaked with their mingled release, cum cooling in thick stripes all the way down to their ankles. The heels they were wearing have long falling off to the side, forgotten. In fact, all the decorations on their body are barely visible now, covered and stained as they are.

Monty turns weakly to look over their shoulder, their face a flushed, damp mess - just like the rest of them.

"I want you on the floor, baby," he repeats, patient and purposeful, reaching one hand out to stroke Monty's cheek, thumbing away the drool that had gathered at the corners of their mouth, rubbing against their lips. "I wanna feel your cunt around my cock one more time, wanna feel you open up for me like the whore you are. You're feeling empty already, aren't you, baby? Even after all this time, even though you're absolutely dripping in my cum, even though it's practically sloshing around inside you. It's still not enough for my precious little doll, is it?"

He straightens up, unhooks the chain from which Monty's wrists are hanging, his fingers rubbing warmth back into their arms, keeping Monty held close. He's stripped off his own clothes by this time, and other than Monty's filthy stockings there is only the intimacy of skin on skin contact between them, as he scoops Monty up in his arms, holding them close against him. He brushes his lips gently over Monty's forehead before he lowers them down to one of the padded sections of the floor, turning them over on ther back and settling between their spread wide legs, getting a good close look at their wrecked, used holes, gaping and trembling with use, coated in their mingled cum.

"Let me in, baby," he murmurs, grinding the full length of his rock-hard cock between Monty's legs; there is barely any friction at all. "Show me you want to be put to good use, little one."

They nod along with Justin's every statement, instantly agreeing, starry-eyed and pliant and good. "Yes, sir," they whisper, reverent and sweet, their little body shivering against their Patron's far larger one. The skin on skin contact is soothing, allowing Monty to relax even though their hips, legs, and groin are aching from the rough treatment, their stomach feeling tight and full from all the times the man had cum inside.

Monty wouldn't have it any other way.

Being on their back was their favorite position to have sex in though they were always a little ashamed to admit it, worried that it was a dull, painfully conservative desire. But Justin didn't seem to mind. In fact, he never seemed to mind any of Monty's preferences and actively encouraged them to elaborate, to explore, to indulge.

(This is the closest, Monty thinks, that they'll ever get to being loved and in love. They're not exactly sure what that might mean.)

It feels almost naturel, like this, to lift their legs up and open, keeping their holes exposed and welcoming, already fucked loose and easy and wet from before. "I need to feel you again," they reply. "I can't get enough of you, sir. Wish I could keep you in me all night." Their hips lift just so as they reach down now to guide Justin back inside of their body, biting their lip at the feeling of his thick cockhead dragging down their inner thigh and instantly back into plugging their pussy shut. There's barely any resistance now and with just a tilt of Monty's back, they feel Justin sink nearly all the way into their throbbing cunt.

He lets gravity and desire do all the work, sinking into the wet, welcoming depths of Monty's cunt, no longer tense, but still tight, adjusting with easy experience and the aching laxness of exhaustion to Justin's cock, fitting like a well-crafted glove to his full length and girth. It's a sweet, intimate position, their bodies pressed almost full length against each other, legs against Justin's chest and over his broad shoulders, and Justin's abdomen rubs against both Monty's pierced clit and the twitching length of their little cock, grinding down from both sides as his cock sinks in fully.

He leans forward even more, more for intimacy than purely for pleasure, practically plastering their bodies together, and kisses Monty's lips almost reverently, with obvious affection, as his hips start a slow, rocking motion, never pulling out far, but offering additional sensation and pleasure all the same.

"I'm home, little one," he murmurs, lovingly, breath shared between their open mouths. "Is this how you want me? My cock?"

They whimper, a delicate sound, thin like gossamer. Justin always feels just a little too wide at the base, a little too challenging to fit in completely comfortably, but Monty’s learned to associate that slightly painful stretch with being wanted, being adored, with having properly pleased their Patron.

“Yes,” they reply, arms linking behind the man’s neck, keeping his face close, their breaths mingling together as their bodies move in tandem. “Just like this. Wish we could be just like this always.”

They rock their hips up, grinding in small circles, feels the way their piercings throb as they’re continually stimulated and pressed against. Monty focuses in on that special sensation as they kiss Justin back slowly, sweetly. The burst of feeling behind it all, shared between the hot press of their lips is strangely overwhelming.

"Can you feel me inside you, little one?" he murmurs, as they continue to exchange kisses, their bodies rocking together unhurriedly towards a mutual completion. Somehow that pleasure seems almost secondary to the intimacy of their current closeness, even with the reminder of what exactly linked them together. "Are you enjoying your new decorations?" He thrusts forward deliberately, hard and forceful, feeling the drag of the rings and hot, swollen skin against his length.

"You're so beautiful for me," he whispers, quiet and heartfelt. "Both your pleasure and your pain are all for me, aren't they? Can you give me one more, baby? Let me see you come for me one more time just like this." It was beyond tempting to drag things out even further, reveling in the deep subspace he'd put Monty into, the shared closeness and the mutual pleasure, but after the past weeks of deprivation he wanted to be cognizant of allowing some amount of recovery time. After all, he intended to continue to enjoy Monty's new piercings to their fullest extent as often as possible, now that they were fully healed. Overdoing it on the very first night, no matter how prettily Monty begged, was really not the most prudent course of action.

He works up a rhythm again, deep and forceful rather than fast, lingering at all the most sensitive spots, driving both of them towards one final orgasm, moving with inexorable purpose and intent.

Edited 2022-12-29 15:03 (UTC)

DOING SOMETHING UNHOLY

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