Thread: Animal (Verse and Zoophilian)

Her moans were daunting. They had always been. Sometimes he wondered if things had progressed this fast if she still had her beauty and heartbreak, but lacked the sweet voice that she replied to his torment with. He could have recorded the audio of their sessions, replayed them every day, and still lived a satisfactory life. But Edmond didn't intend on doing anything so modest. If she had something that sated him, he'd want more of it, to gorge himself on it. Seducing her hadn't been enough by far. No. He had to own her and brand her. Pull her a part and rebuild her. Take her away from herself. Looking at her pinned form through his lower lashes, he took in her sprawled arms, obediently scarping at the fibers of the math instead of lifting hands to ward him off, or spur him on. He reached down to part her lips with his fingers, thumb hooking under her chin to hold her head in place as he seemed to examine her. Like an object for purchase. Two fingers pinned her tongue, and rubbed it rather roughly. With some pull applied, he lifted her head for further inspection. His free hand came down to flick one of her impertinent nipples. His feet switched some weight back into his body, which was perched on top of hers, her stomach. Their differences in size of course translated to differences in weight. This alone should be torture. Edmon leaned down, eclipsing her view of the white depths of the ceiling with his sadistic, red orbs. His lips didn't come to her occupied ones, instead he twisted her head to the side, so she could gulp in the view of her suit. What if I changed my mind? he murmured cruelly. Fingers slid deeper over her tongue, thumb letting go of her chin to lend more length to the intrusion. What if, through all our nights, you haven't managed to catch my interest? They were useless speculations, of course. She had far surpassed his expectations, which was why he was more excited about this than previous prey. There had also been more effort in the construction of this coming crescendo. The anticipation had seasoned the reward. Somewhere inside she should know that she was special to him. He still wanted to see the configuration of her features, when she though she'd been rejected from the new life that would save her from sorrow. The instance she believed it, she would have nothing. It was his self appointed task to stir her up inside, with his length, with his digits, with his toys and tools, but also with her own mind. His cheek laid on hers, so they both could see the animal. Knees on either of her sides, his other hand started at her skirt, roughly finding the zipper at her left hip. An angry, hasty snap announced the parting of the garment and he started lowering the article. In the beginning, she had learned to lift herself and aid in anyway she could when he undressed her, even on their tumultuous first, intimate meet. Would she remember now? He continued to share her attention for the suit, her sinew tight wonderland. The suit itself could reject you, you know. It was petty now, almost juvenile. He had not come to this zenith of the plot without having a particular fondness of her pain. He didn't mind extracting it with patience and preparing it meticulously, as long as he got to have it in the end. All of this could have been used as a threat at first the devolution, the degradation, the transformation. If he had told her the extent of it then, surely she would have ran, he thought as fingernails raked the side of her thigh, pure luck and manicured tips the only reasons her skin didn't open. What person would go along with this on a whim, without persuasion? But now that he'd whispered the nighttime stories about her freedom and carelessness, and let her taste what rapture submission came with, she all but thirsted for that dream, lining the inside of her latex shroud. Of course he would dangle it precariously in front of her, hold it just a little too high for a few more seconds, to make it all the better when she finally got to have it. The bowl of his palm blanketed her hipbone, massaging gently, traveling inward. His verbal taunts were always accompanied by physical ones. Instead of admiring the suit, he lifted his cheek from hers to look down at her face, ready to read her expressions.