Thread: Brutalised Ballerina! (Jack Stalker and faye)

Henry was fiercly handsome, and that had it's effect on Natalie. Oh. Before all of this... mess... had started, she had secretly fantasized about him. His piercing eyes. His toned body. He was charismatic, had a wicked smile, a quick, cyncial sense of humor. He was succesful, powerful.... in short, everything Natalie had always dreamed of. Being as young as she was, the ballerina had always had a weakness for dominant male lead figures. She had a huge problem saying no to one of these figures, and desperately longed to please the god of her universe. At the same time she had never wanted to be one of those girls. Only reaching success because they spread their legs. Natalie had dedicated far too much time to becoming what she was. Years and years on end had been spent with strict discipline. Daily practise. She had not worked hard, she had worked harder. And while it was incredibly hard for her to deny him anything - not with the secret crush she had been harbouring for him, that had mingled with her weird need to gain his praise - she found herself crying her eyes out about the entire situation on a daily basis by now. His tirade was like a slap to her face. Each of his words destroying something within, she wanted to protest, she wanted to tell him she was no whore, that she wasn't a greedy, mindless, lustfilled plaything for his desires. She wanted to tell him she was a Star, she was a Dancer, she was gracious and athletic. That she wasn't at all what he told her she was. And yet she could feel her pussy start to moisten already, a feverish mixture of desire and shame and humiliation and lust consuming her, each visible clearly in her expressive face. Her bottom lip was trembling, her eyes huge, like those of a deer in the lights. She felt him lift her up, felt him spin her around. The sound of his fly opening, that intimate sound of small metal teeth opening was incredibly loud at that very moment, and she couldn't help but stare back at him in the mirror. Her face was flushed, a heated red highlighting her cheekbones. She let out a gasp when he tore her costume, the feathers falling to the ground. Another gasp. A hiss. Her body was frozen in place, shuddering when his nails raked across her flesh, leaving angry marks on perfectly white skin. She prayed he would be careful, prayed to all gods she knew that he'd keep the marks out of sight of the audience. She knew better. A breathless scream when he tore her tights. The girl in the mirror looked almost decent still. But Natalie could feel the contrast of her naked backside. His hand dipped between her legs, the redness in her face more evident now, as he undoubtedly found her wet. Heated. Willing. Her nipples springing to attention at his touch, painfully hard little nubs that stood out against the flimsy bit of fabric covering them. She swallowed, hard, when she felt his hand lightly rest upon her throat, gooseflesh spreading across her entire body when she felt the heat of his cock against her ass, gooseflesh that spread further when his tongue found her ear, teased it, his breath hot. When he mentioned her missing the second part, that either she satisfied him in the ways he suggested or the second dancer would finish for her, with her helplessly pinned down on his cock, the timer inside her head came to live again. 15 Minutes. Maximum. Please... oh god, please Henry... she whispered, her voice barely audible. OH...GOD! she moaned when he lifted her to the tip of her toes, his cock splitting her apart, his massive size as always too much to take for her. And yet she knew she could. She knew how it would feel to have him buried inside her, with his balls violently slapping against her pussy when he fucked her raw. His teeth sunk into her shoulder, causing another little shudder. Her eyes were locked to his, she couldnt look away. The mirror reflected the perfect couple. Him, elegant in his suit. Her, the dancer, in her exciting costume. In the mirror his cock inside her pussy was invisible. Natalie felt the strain in her thighs, from standing on her tip toes with her legs spread slightly, her pussy throbbing around his meat, and then she let out a hiss. A whimper. For a few seconds that felt like eternity she just stood there. Helpless. Vulnerable. Caught in the reflex to rebel against him, to make him follow up with his threat. But then she -knew- he never issued empty threads. She -wanted- to dance. And regarding the wetness building between her legs, she wanted his cock as well. Natalie trembled. Violently. And then she started to move. She pushed back. Slowly. Her eyes widening, as always when she felt him enter. He was too big. She couldn't take it! Never! Another hiss. A groan. You hurt me... she said, and then, after what felt like another eternity she reached the base of his cock. Her back was arching, when she lifted her hips up again, excruciatingly slow. His wonderful, frightening cock stretching her, splitting her, it hurt... it hurt so fucking good. She repeated the motion, gaining speed with every thrust of her hips against his loins, her thighs starting to scream with agony, standing on her tiptoes, her cunt impossibly stretched, her heart hammering, as she picked up more and more speed, until she had to stop, breathlessly, almost collapsing into the mirror, her hands, against the cold glass. Sweat was glistening on her skin, her entire body flushed. 11 minutes.... just 11 more minutes. But Natalie was very aware of his ability to hold out. She knew he wouldn't be satisfied until she was completely ruined. She inhaled deeply, and gritted her teeth, starting the obscene dance he was demanding of her again, her tight, round ass starting to quiver as she once again started to fuck herself onto the entire length of his cock. Faster. And Faster. And Faster. Until her legs were trembling violently, her thighs giving in, and she had to stop again. Please... Henry, let me dance! She turned her head, tried to start the rythm again, tried to build to another crescendo. I will stay after the show. I... she stilled. What could she offer that he had not already taken? I will stay. I will... i won't... i... her voice died again for a lack of words. And then she started to grind herself onto the length of his cock again, and a low, guttural sound escaped lush lips. A moan. Another. Oh.. god... please... just... stop. Fuck me. Please! she moaned, the wetness coating his cock clearly betraying the arousal hammering inside her veins, a crescendo of its own.