There are mornings when I will awaken and instantly be rather horny, but on one Sunday morning in particular, I was not just horny when I awoke, I already had a throbbing erection and a deep, intense need to fuck someone.
That "someone" just happened to be sleeping next to Me. As the first light of the Sunday morning illuminated the closed blinds, I looked at My dutiful slave, torn between My gentle, caring nature and My primal urge. she looked so sweet and innocent, almost like a slumbering baby, and given how late she and I had returned from the party, I knew she truly needed to sleep.
I struggled for several minutes to calm Myself. When that did not work, I thought that maybe stroking Myself may help to at least cause the need to subside until My slave had truly awoken, but that did not help.
Ultimately, there was only one way for this to end, and while it was very much against My nature, I knew that I had no choice in the matter, for My body was overruling My mind.
There was still a shred of gentleness remaining within Me, however, and that allowed Me to gently stroke her cheek and brush back a few stray strands of hair which were close to her plump parted lips. "I'm sorry, sweet one," I whispered, even though she was still clearly deep in slumber and probably could not hear my words, "but I desperately need to do this."
Without warning, I threw back the flannel sheet, exposing Myself and My slave to the slightly-cool air being propelled downward by the ceiling fan above the bed. To My dismay, she did not react, a true testament to the depth of her slumber.
But then My body gained full control of Me, effectively shutting off My brain.
It was almost like watching Myself from afar. Rapidly, I flipped My slave onto her back, a move so sudden that she was shocked out of her slumber, awakening with a loud cry. I practically tore her legs apart, and almost as quickly, I was forcing my way into her available body. Since she clearly was not ready for this, since there had definitely not been any foreplay or even an indication that this might happen, she howled from the pain of My forced entry.
My hands quickly found hers, and pinned them to the large pillow underneath her head. The expression in her eyes was initially one of fear, then strictly an expression of discomfort as she was mercilessly used, her unprepared body quickly becoming raw and the pain evident in her eyes and in her voice, even as her body began to naturally lubricate in self-defense.
Although I had engaged in rough sex with My slave quite a few times, those encounters had all been preceded by plenty of preparation, with lengthy build-up to ensure that she was thoroughly wet. On the other hand, this was almost an angry fuck, propelled by the primal need which powered each vicious thrust and each brazen growl. I was not human: I was not sharing an intimate moment with the love of My life – I was purely a beast whose narrow-minded intent was focused upon violently rutting into an available female.
...and My once-sleeping slave was definitely available.
she was available. she was a body. she was a thing.
she was simply a thing, and even though she began to move in kind against each forceful lunge into her body, she was simply being used.
Somehow, My slave was able to tear a hand away from the pillow and grip My ass, pulling Me into her, actively participating in her own plundering. her body now somewhat accustomed to the harsh assault, her cries were sounds of escalating pleasure, even though tears pooled between each eye and the bridge of her small nose.
Still I growled brazenly, sweat forming upon My skin despite the efforts of the fan above the bed. her eyes displayed a new fear, one I had never previously witnessed: she was truly, genuinely scared of Me, even as she found some small measure of delight in this unexpected use of her as simply an object.
she was available. she was a body. she was a thing. she was a receptacle for My seed.
I bellowed as I inseminated her, seeing multicolored stars even though My eyes were clamped shut. It was the worst orgasm I had ever experienced with her, for there was no eternal love and no thoughtful dominance – there was only primal, unthinking beast.
...and that primal, unthinking beast scared even Me.
I collapsed upon her, shuddering in the aftermath of the much-needed release, the beast receding into the furthest, darkest recesses of My conflicted mind. It was not until I felt her brush a tear away from My cheek that I realized I was crying. she held Me tightly, soothing Me with her touches and her soft words, and I clutched her hair and simply let the tears fall unabashedly, allowing her to see Me so vulnerable even though it – and the entire experience – would almost certainly cause her to view Me in a very different light.
"This is part of the reason i'm here," she whispered as My tears finally subsided. "i'm Yours, heart and soul and body. i've always known there was a wild animal caged somewhere deep inside you, and i'm here to be your prey when that wild animal needs to come out of its cage."
It has taken Me several weeks to truly become comfortable with the fact that the beast inside Me had been released, even for just those few minutes, but while I still have not truly embraced the beast within Me, I no longer feel quite so conflicted about its existence. And, best of all, despite the internal injuries the uncaged beast had inflicted upon her, My slave still clearly loves Me and does not hold that fateful Sunday morning against Me.
In fact, for a reason I cannot fathom, she seems to respect Me even more.
