Chapter Text
Your hospital visit took eight hours of your day, five in the waiting room, and then another three to actually be seen by the doctor. It’s hard to complain when you had doctor model, sorry, Jack Abbot, treating you. A sweet but rugged looking man with salt and pepper scruff, and soft grey curls. His scrubs only accentuated his massive arms and broad chest. You were almost drooling as he sat down to go through the routine screening questions.
You didn’t hold the long wait against him, you knew there were far more serious cases than your minor ear infection, but he was so apologetic for how long you’d been there. His hands soft and gentle as they tilted your head, this way and that, so he could look in your ears. You’d almost given him your number before you realized just how skeevy it would be to hit on him at his place of work. Instead, you gratefully took his prescription of antibiotics, and when he suggested some sedatives to help you sleep through the ear pain, you were happy to take that too.
You'd already taken an antibiotic on the drive home, wanting to get rid of your infection asap, but now settled in and getting ready for bed, you only take half of the dose of sedative he prescribed. Addiction runs in your family and you don't want to tempt fate, better not take too much.
You wake up slowly, like you’re coming out of a fever dream, hot, sweaty, your brain still half in the dream. The arm around your neck tightens as your body tenses to consciousness.
It’s hard to say what you notice first, the sharp jabs jolting your body upward into the arms wrapped tight around you, or the arms themselves. Keeping you in a headlock, pressing into your neck and holding your shoulders down. The other hooked around your hips, keeping your arms tucked tight along your sides, holding you flush to the hard body behind you, legs spread wide.
You’re painfully full, filled beyond even your biggest toy, and not nearly wet enough for the intrusion.
And your pyjamas are gone, leaving you naked against him, slick skin pressed tight against you as he holds you upright. Lolling back, dead weight on his chest, split open on his pulsing cock.
“Oh sweetheart, that’s too bad for you.” A deep, condescending voice coos into your ear, hot breath ghosting the side of your face as you blink dumbly. “I guess you didn’t follow your prescription, huh? Next time, you should really listen to your doctor. Just—”
He cuts off with a groan, torturously hoisting your body up to drag his thick cock nearly all the way out of you. Inner muscles twinging from the dry friction of it, trying to retreat into yourself somehow.
“-ah ah -try to enjoy the ride.”
You feel like an animal, slow and pinned, moaning in confusion as your brain struggles to understand what the fuck is happening.
Speared open and trapped in his arms. He easily shifts you where he wants, like you weigh nothing, like you're his personal fleshlight. There's no room to escape or squirm away, you're forced to just… take it.
And then he’s slamming back into you, hips thrusting up as his arms pull you back down, bumping and bruising your cervix, balls slapping against your clit.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, when was the last time this pussy was worked open, huh? Feels like you’ve never taken a real cock before, wrapped around me like a vice.”
You cry out, teeth pressing hard into his meaty bicep, muffling your sob.
“I do- d-don’t, please sto- opp” You plead, thready and staccato with his thrusts, tasting the sheen of sweet coating his thick arm. The words are hard to get out, your brain still sluggish from the drugs and the heat if his body, struggling to think past the pain.
Your body feels so heavy, each limb feels like it weighs a hundred pounds.
“Stop, don’t” He mocks, in a breathy, whiny imitation of you, hissing as he grinds into you, “huh, baby, you already too cock drunk to form a real sentence?”
He slams into you hard, the drag of it making you wonder if you’ll rip, if your insides are gonna end up shredded beyond repair.
Despite it all, each slap of his skin against yours, each brush of his balls against your clit, traitorously sends small sparks of pleasure up your body. The pain and pleasure mixing, your cunt slowly getting slick. It’s repulsive, and you hate that any part of you is responding to this.
“Taking it so good, huh? Saw you and knew you were made for me, for this.” He grunts, the slide a little easier now.
He noses along your hair, and you hear him inhale sharply, his chest expanding hard into your back.
“Smell just like home. You gonna be my new home, pet?” He breathes.
“ple-ase, ah! h-hurts—” You whimper, tears coming on hot and fast, your voice box aching from the strain of how hard you want to cry.
“So polite, baby, saying please for me. C’mon, thank me for being so good to you.” He punctuates what he’s saying with kisses to your shoulder and the side of your face, sweet and gentle, kissing away the tears. Like a lover, not like the monster holding you tight and chasing his own end.
“et me go- Ple- just let me go—” You keen, desperate, like somehow this time your pleading will work.
“Let me go—” He mocks you again, chuckling to himself, “you're gonna be begging me to keep you by the end of this. Now c'mon I asked you to say thank you.”
He slows his thrusts, grinding his cock into your cervix, making your insides cramp up. Bile rising in your throat as the cramping intensifies till you think you’ll actually vomit from the pain.
“C'mon pet, say thank you, and I can make it nice for you.”
You cry harder, reduced down to the throbbing pain in your cunt. Mindlessly chanting please and stop.
The arm around your neck tightens, pulling you down hard into the slow agonizing roll of his hips. Airway almost completely cut off, only a faint trickle of air reaching your lungs.
A cut off yelp is pulled from you as renewed panic floods your body. He's going to choke you to death.
Your whole body flushes hot and then cold, terrified as fear cuts right through the drugs clinging to your mind.
Your whole body shudders at the lack of oxygen, hole clamping down harshly around his cock. Scrambling hard as you try to wiggle free. But he’s right there, pressed tight against you, following every move.
“There's my good girl, give me something to work with, milk my cock.” He huffs with a grin, satisfied, bucking into you like an animal in heat.
You lash out, body convulsing and flailing against his tight hold. You manage to snake one of your arms free and reach up to dig your fingers into his tricep.
But your grasp is weak, slipping against his sweaty skin. And all your thrashing has you even more lightheaded vision swimming with black dots.
“Fuck, just like that, give me a ride.” He growls, bouncing you on his cock, your pussy squelching lewdly around him, the ugly slick sound filling the silence of your room.
Your brain is thudding in pain to the rhythm of your heart, body going limp.
The arm around your neck loosens and you roughly gasp back into consciousness, you don't remember passing out.
Dazed and struggling to remember where you are, the hand that was holding down your hips comes up to harshly slap at your face, snapping you back to reality.
“Shhhh, it's ok, you're fine.” He coos, “Love the way you get all squirmy on my cock when you're about to pass out.”
You shudder at his words, wishing you were unconscious again and away from this hell.
Your tongue feels thick in your mouth when you cry out again. “-ease do-don’t kill me.”
“Kill you? Oooh sweetheart,” He croons, like he's talking to a child who scraped their knee, sweet and condescending. As if you're the idiot for thinking he's going to fuck you until your body is cold and lifeless. “I just found you, I'm not killing you.”
He presses a kiss into the side of your face, like that’ll help to reassure you, his stubble scratching roughly at your skin. Soft lips pressing sweetly against you over and over.
“Don't worry, I can always bring you back if we take things a little too far, hmm.” He hums, and you bite back the terrified noise that claws at your throat. Hoping you never find out what he means by that.
He bounces you again, letting your convulsing body and gravity do the work for him. His cock pulsing and hard inside you, filling every inch of your cunt.
Horrified, you feel the beginnings of an orgasm, your brain stupidly supplying why: erotic asphyxiation. You’re briefly, sidetracked by the image of dead celebrities found with their cocks out and a belt wrapped tight around their necks.
“No, no, I- please- I can’t—” You choke off with a whine as you clench around him, the pain from your cervix being battered disappearing as he shifts, hitting your g-spot every time he rams his way back into you. Hitting that soft spot inside you that has pleasure pooling hot and fast in your belly. Disgusted with yourself, fucking traitorous body.
“I don't think your pussy agrees, pet, taste how wet you are for it.” He groans, loud and crude in your ear.
The hand that slapped you slides down your body, tweaking one of your nipples as it goes, his thick fingers feeling around your soaked entrance. Scooping up the slick you've been gushing around his cock, shoving two fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue as you pant against them.
He massages the musky flavour of your own slick into your taste buds. Pressing his digits towards the back of your throat, forcing you to gag, body tensing as you retch around the intrusion in your mouth.
He tsks, “We’re gonna have to work on that, huh? Train you to take it just right.” What?
His spit-slicked fingers make their way back down your body again, punching a guttural moan out of you when they find your swollen clit.
Each grind of his fingers against the sensitive nub pulls you closer to your release.
“Now what did I say? Hmm? You ready to say thank you? Ready for me to make you feel nice?”
“Noo-o,” You warbble, crying for your body to stop cooperating with him, to just go numb, not give him the satisfaction of getting you off. “stop, please stop!”
You can feel him grinning where he has his face pressed into your shoulder blade.
Your free hand moves up to paw weakly behind you, making him chuckle and then shudder against you when your fingers find purchase in his hair and tug at the strands.
His hips stutter against you as you pull harder, a deep moan reverberating in your ear as he finds his rhythm again, peppering your skin with kisses. “Harder sweetheart, make me feel it.”
Your hand is quick to release his hair, gritting your teeth that he’s so unfazed.
“Awe,” he pouts, “and here I thought you were finally getting into it. Need some incentive? Huh, pet? Need me to teach you how to be a good girl for me?”
His arm starts tightening around your neck again, slower this time, dragging out the way you start gasping for air, never getting enough to fill your lungs.
Your vision starts going black around the edges, and even though you know it’s coming, your body tries to jerk away, the natural instinct to escape, to survive, is hard to tamp down. Uncontrollable full-body twitches take over as you struggle to breathe, pussy clamping down tight, again, and again as he jams his way into you.
It takes you longer to come back around this time, longer to recognize your own room, to process the wet smacking as he plunges into your cunt, the rough grunting in your ear, to remember your own name.
His breath comes hot and fast against your skin, “Finally ready to be a good girl?”
His fingers press harder against you, still working roughly to get you off. Your clit feels like a live wire, sparking with every hard circle he draws over it.
Shame prickles over you as you find your hips humping back against him, chasing his cock, trying to keep yourself stuffed full. Needy and overwhelmed with pleasure as you lose yourself to chasing it.
“T-thank you.” You bite out, small and hard to hear over the slapping of your skin.
“What’s that, pet? You wanna tell me again?”
Telltale full body shivers begin washing over you as your orgasm quickly approaches.
“Thank you!” you chant, hips working against you, back bending as you chase the feeling, focusing on his fingers and the thick length sawing in and out of you.
“There you go, riding me like a good fucking girl.” He growls, fingers working over you so fast you have to bite your lip to keep from screaming out.
And then just as you start to cum, body jerking with the first wave, cunt spasming around him, the pleasure vanishes, his fingers yank away from you.
Your orgasm sizzles into nothing, and shame prickles your skin.
Only your pussy and clit throbbing in time with after shocks give you any indication you'd cum at all. Muscles seizing from the orgasm you can't feel.
Somehow that's the worst part, fat tears sliding down your face as you babble apologies, desperate for real release. Feeling disgusted with yourself.
He stills inside you, letting your walls flutter around him, your body trying to milk the cum out of him.
“Yeah, I know, you're sorry, pet, next time you're gonna listen to me the first time, right? Be my good girl and do everything I say?” It’s cruel how sweet he says it to you, demeaning like he’s training a house pet.
You start to protest again, and he tuts at your resistance.
His free arm anchors itself back around your hips, pulling you tight against him. His other arm finally releases you from the headlock that's kept you oxygen-deprived and foggy.
You fall forward into your sheets, too tired to keep your body upright without his arm for support. The sweat drenching your back makes you shiver as the cold air hits your naked flesh.
His arm hikes up your hips, angling you so his cock pushes deeper into you. His other hand clamps down at the junction of your neck and shoulder, pressing your face down, smushing it into the mattress.
You try to focus on the soft, cool feeling of your sheets against your skin.
He slowly draws out of you again, until just his cockhead is notched inside your slick, quivering entrance. And then he's hammering back into you, setting a violent, brutal pace as he chases his release.
Wet obscene sounds fill the room as he smacks into you, bumping you off his pelvis over and over and over again.
Your cunt is so overstimulated, you whine a constant hitching sob as he works you over.
It’s when his hips stutter again that you wonder if he's getting close, you pray he's getting close. Terrified he'll finish inside you raw, you're not on birth control. You didn’t have a reason to be.
“Ready to be filled up, huh, pet? ready to feel me so deep you're gonna be leaking my seed all week?”
You're too tired to do anything but take it, let him stuff your womb full with his hot cum.
His cock twitches as he spurts inside you, pulsing hard against the sore walls of your cunt, working himself through it in slow grinding thrusts, cum pooling in the deepest parts of you.
“Taking me so nice and deep, keeping my cum all warm, right where it belongs.” His hand wraps around you, taps against your lower stomach, like he’s telling your womb good job.
His hand traces down along your spine, palming your cheeks, using his thumbs to pull them apart, and watch as his cum leaks out of you around his softening cock. Riveted by the sight.
Eventually he must have gotten his fill of looking, because he leans down to shift you both onto your sides. Swift, so his cock is still buried deep inside you.
Grinding into you, trapping most of his cum, but frothing up what’s leaked out.
The overstimulation is almost to the point that you just feel numb. But you're not quite that lucky.
Your head is throbbing from the crying, and choking, and manhandling. You’re ready to pass out and forget any of this happened to you.
Breathing slow and heavy as he mouths at your shoulder, biting and sucking, it's almost soothing, the rough drag of his stubble against your skin, almost enough to lull you back to sleep.
But then you feel it, the slow grind of his hips turning into lazy, shallow thrusts. His cock fattening up inside you again, hardening with each pump of his hips.
You’d start crying again if you weren’t so fucking dehydrated. Wrung out and empty of anything but his cum.
“You're not stupid enough to think I was finished with you, huh, sweetheart?”