nimbletail

I left her there, naked and bleeding, and the next time I saw her, she was at the base of the west tower, having jumped to her death. Galvin told me not to concern myself with her, that she was simply a broken toy, and that I would find another. But I knew different. She wasn’t a broken toy, and though she made her choice, it wasn’t suicide; it was murder. I killed her. I hurt her, I violated her, and made her life so painful that I might as well have pushed her off that tower myself. I knew it, but I didn’t want to accept it.

That same night, Sarah was up again at midnight, like clockwork now. Like a swimmer improving on their time, it took her less than two minutes before she was suckling on her father’s dick like a pacifier. This night she was not as desperate as the last few and takes her time. Sprawled out lazily across her father’s legs, knowing that it won’t cause him any distress, her cheek rests on his waist while she has tilted his cock to the side and slipped it into her mouth. Sarah sucks on his cock long and slow, savouring the smell and taste as much as she can, and it is almost an hour until his penis finally gives in and spurts his load into her mouth.

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.