Ironcock part 4

“I’nng soweey-“ She whimpered again.

The words had to slur themselves past the fingers hooked cruelly into her mouth, fingers which then rolled around to grasp her tongue.

“What was that you said?” He would have growled teasingly into her ear, but the night had taken it’s toll on his sanity and so he rasped and spat the words like a mad man into the side of her head. “You need to speak more clearly, I don’t understand”, ungently her tongue was pulled out her mouth and pinched, “Say it again”

“Ahn tho tho-eee! heeeUHG-” Yet another pathetic attempt to speak was cut short by the sudden resumed pounding of his un-naturally swollen cock. As the night had progressed his dick had undergone quite the transformation into what was now something quite frightening. Countless bulging and pulsating veins covered the straining shaft like overgrown vines on a heavily ribbed, overbuilt column, undulating like snakes fighting for space under skin stretched tight as canvas. The shaft itself, all around thicker than usual, bulged widest near it’s middle and summoned the most filthy of sounds from her cunt as it drove it’s angry, misshapen billiard ball of a head crashing against her bruised insides. His testicles  had swollen too; now like a leather purse full of custard and iron balls, they beat on her savaged clit without mercy every time his hips drove the full presence of his member into her, as beastly as the wasted mind of it’s owner. “Goooooohhh-hh” She drooled, eye’s rolling up, body clenching into the latest of uncountable orgasms.

“Fucking take it you nasty little cunt” he lovingly spluttered into her ear. He had overcome his own pleasure; no longer paralysed by the insurmountable burning frustration which permeated his very bones, he was it’s master! He had not numbed to the overwhelming sensations of her lips on his skin or the smell of her breath or the grip of her pussy; he was just as sensitive, just as teasingly close to orgasm as he’d been hours ago when he’d wailed and begged and cried for her mercy but now there was an acceptance. A higher plane of existence, of edged enlightenment, of masturbatory meditation; he was deep in a goon trance which she had orchestrated, and now he’d inflict every and any whim upon her as reward.

Sliding fully then grinding a little more inside her spasming twat, he gripped her tightly in place with a strong arm and enjoyed the changing sensations of her body wrapped around his straining meat until her orgasm ended. “I can feel your heart beating” He half gasped and half chuckled, not even speaking to her but just speaking out loud, carelessly planting a sweaty hand on her stomach and gripping as if she were nothing more than an extension of his penis; she gargled pathetically as he massaged his cock through her guts.

Outside she was a complete mess, weak and incoherent; inside her head wasn’t quite so untidy. Between white-outs of overstimulation, she’d been considering her decisions leading to this point and concluded that they were likely mistakes. Keeping track of time had become impossible, every orgasm had been a blinding moment of increasing eternity and the spaces between them were stretched further than her pussy by the bulked weight of his frustrated cock. She’d never managed to have that drink of water, the thirst tickled her throat but did nothing to hinder the spraying of girl-cum out her pussy; she briefly thought if this was what an orange felt like as it’s insides are pulped on one of those kitchen juicers, tightly gripped by an oversized hand and wrung methodically back and forth, penetrated on a monstrous column till you’re only a ruined skin full of smashed pulp. She certainly felt like that right now; would he throw her husk in the bin with the other waste and rubbish once she was fully juiced? It troubled her that that thought inspired longing. In fact many of the thoughts she was having troubled her; she wished he’d be rougher, she wanted him to squeeze her throat, she prayed for him to crush her body, she pined for him to call her the most degrading things, to mark her skin, to give her pain, to throw her husk onto the floor and tread on it like she deserved.

“I fucking love you” He whispered into her ear. The fingers that were moments ago punishing her tongue moved to tenderly cup her chin and he softly kissed her cheek. It was so so tempting, so easy to get lost in the role of a worthless fuck meat. Gripped by his strong arms and fucked like a rubber doll, the spaces between disorienting orgasms became almost harmful. Even edged to insanity, he had the clarity to remind her it was just a game and she could have cried with gratitude if she had the fluid to spare.

“I love you” She whispered back, raspy. Still holding her, still deep inside her, he let go of her chin and leant back. She heard fumbling and she was almost anxious by the time he leant forward again to hold her water bottle in front of her face. She sucked half the bottle down, he tossed it away, wrapped his arm around her neck then set to work squeezing all the water she’d just swallowed back out of her grateful cunt.