rehottakes - Tumblr blog

rehottakes · 1 day ago

Note

we have (femme?) bunny reader, but what about masc/butch puppy reader :3?

That we do! What a fun prompt!👀 Choosing Bela for this as the bunny series started out with her, too👀 ;P

Bunny reader series here-> Bela’s part, Cassandra’s part, Daniela’s part

Let’s get into it!🙌

Masterlists

You moan hotly against her, your tongue lapping hungrily at the wet folds presented to you. You shiver slightly, goosebumps rolling across your bare skin, the wooden floor almost icy cool beneath you. Your jaw aches and muscles tremble slightly already from the way you're made to stay, your arms planted and knees spread wide, your back arched enough to keep your hips up and display the tail dangling from between your ass cheeks.

Ah, and you feel it- the thick plug inside, stretching you open the majority of the time. You can't quite recall when your Mistress last let you take it out for an extended period of time, if ever. You shiver again, feeling the faux, dark fur tail attached to it curl and tickle your skin, swaying lightly with every little involuntary twitch pulled from you.

And twitch you do. You feel your entire body tremble already, your muscles burn and hair stick slightly to your head already. Your throat feels tight- maybe especially so due to the collar Lady bela put on you- a deep, blood-red leather piece with a heavy iron buckle, cinched tight enough to remind you who you belong to.

Her, always.

She never allows you to forget it.

You gulp, feeling the light, metallic B on the inside of the collar dig into your throat a little more. Yet another claim, and one she loves to trail her fingers or lips across when feeding from you.

As you lap at your Mistresses' displayed pussy you lightly hear the silver ring at the collar clink, connecting the thick thing to a strong, sturdy black leash tied to her desk's leg. She isn't paying attention, not close one anyway, not yet. She doesn't need to, either, her beautiful golden eyes set on the sheets in front of her.

Sometimes, you hear her moan or sigh softly, whereas at other times her hand snakes down to grasp the top of your leash and drag you closer again. Your knees tremble again, your chest heaving already and legs trembling slightly.

You're sat kneeling between her legs as you usually are- shamefully, you briefly notice: you can't remember a period of time you were granted to stand, let alone walk.

"Pets do not walk on two legs. They crawl, and they obey, mutt.", you almost hear her words in your mind. You lap at her all the more eagerly for it. You know not to get on her bad side, especially so when she is working.

As such, you merely keep your head down, moaning hotly against her, your mouth open and tongue exploring, licking eagerly at her pussy while she works. You perk up at another moan, your stomach cramping with want. You love making her feel good- you love hearing how good she feels. And you certainly love being rewarded for your efforts.

A few moments after the room becomes quieter again, the only sound now the rustling of her papers, the suble lap of your tongue against her folds, and the humiliating sound of you drooling against her and onto the floor as you try not to squirm too much around the heavy, thick knot she stuffed inside you earlier.

Shivering, you try to steady your hips again, your pussy stretched wide around the thing. Your tail twitches, your eyes squeezing shut as you clench around the massive thing sat on the floor between your thighs. Much like Lady Cassandra is rumored to be, you know your Mistress too has a rather teasing, almost sadistic side to her, even as you're unable to spot the smirk gracefully playing on her thick lips every time you gasp or whimper from the knot buried deep in you.

What you do notice, however, is the sadistic glint in her eyes when she brings the toy out and you already cower slightly, well aware of the stretch that comes with it.

Ah- but what would a pup be without their knot, she'd insist, patting your cheeks and head like one might do to a dog- not entirely inaccurate, given your status as her pet- as she screws the thing into you. Or, perhaps even more humiliating, holds your leash and commands you to sink down on it, just one of the many commands she has "taught her good puppy!"

Moaning against her again, you feel a new series of shivers run down your spine. You tremble lightly already- stuffed full, but unable to touch yourself- you know, after all, the consequences would hardly be worth the few touches. Your Mistress, while certainly playing more fair than you have heard Lady Cassandra and Lady Daniela do, is more than capable of turning cruel regarding her punishments, insisting she only "wishes to teach her pet the strict ruleset you are to follow".

You shiver again, feeling her hand reach down to pet your head lightly. She doesn't speak, not really aside from the soft moans she occasionally allows to slip past her lips, though the simple touch is enough to make you clench around knot and plug again and lean up into her touch hungrily. Your breath hitches as her thigh shifts again, the soft skin briefly grazing your face as she spreads them wider with a soft hum that has your heart race.

Desperate for another sound from your Lady, you continue on, moaning into her as you push your tongue inside and curl it against the soft, wet heat inside her. Again, you're rewarded with a soft hum and a pat to your hair, her fingers curling slightly against your head.

Nose brushing up against her clit, you roll your hips just briefly, wincing a little at the stretch from the plug.

“You are terribly whiny today, mutt…”, she teases above you, hand curling against your face as she pushes you deeper.

“Are you having difficulties, little one?”

Her soft laughter is music to your ears as you lean against her hand, hungrily taking every scrap of attention and affection your Mistress offers you. You moan against her softly, tongue sliding from her again and lips wrapping around her clit eagerly. Maybe, it's your pathetic whimpers that wear her down. Maybe, it's how good you've been, serving her on and off for the past hours, never attempting to speak when you knot you are not to, never moving away from her, never disturbing her work. Maybe, it's how you lap at her so very eagerly, so clearly desperate to prove to her how much she means to you. But when she hums and scratches your head almost lovingly, you melt.

“Good puppy…that's it....”, she sighs, her voice husky and low as though she's throwing her head back slowly.

Immediately, you suck her clit a little harder, tongue dragging along it and flicking across the bud quickly, desperate to please. Your thighs and muscles tremble, your knees already hurting from kneeling for so long. Every few moments you feel your body weaken, whimpering and gasping against her flushed, wet skin as you sink down a little more on the knot with a wet squelch.

Tongue gliding across her clit in long, starved strokes, you feel her slick begin to drip from your chin again, some directly falling to the ground, other bits drooling down your throat and to the collar until eventually falling too. You're sure you're the perfect image of a messy puppy now, bare and trembling, ass stuffed and pussy drooling creamy arousal onto the floor, your entire lower face, lips and chin and even your nose, covered in slick arousal and drool.

You're well past the point of caring, lap at her so hungrily it feels almost as though you've been starved for weeks, your lips brushing her pink, sensitive clit hungrily every so often.

You moan hotly as you feel her shiver and tremble slightly, her own orgasm rising well within her. Feeling a tug of your leash, you're pulled closer again, moaning and groaning hotly as even a move as little as this has you clench around your plug and knot, completely stuffed to the brim. You feel dizzy thinking of her touch already, every moan granted just for her, every part of your being craving her.

She's breathing a little heavier, now, hands flattening out the papers on her desk in a poor attempt of wrapping her work up sooner rather than later. Her thighs ache and legs tremble, her hips grinding forward just enough for you to feel her grind her wet pussy against your face, your lips, your tongue.

“More....more, puppy...good...”, she groans, voice feather light, breathy and warm. Immediately, her tone and words send a shiver of pleasure rolling down your spine, another hot flash within you going right between your spread legs.

When she cums, you groan against her, your eyes shutting. You don't care that you're pulled flush between her legs, can't bring yourself to try and pull away, even knowing you can't breathe. You can only drink her in, moan and lick into her, taste every little drop of sweet cum that drools from her wet insides and greets you. Your own legs tremble, your entire body on edge. Already, from constantly being plugged. But the knot? It has you shiver and gasp with every move, your core sore and sensitive at the same time, edged and overwhelmed, needy and pleading for a break all at once.

Your tongue slows after a few moments, a tremble passing through you as you're granted to pull away enough to breathe again. Sweet cum drools from her still, her pink pussy flushed in arousal and your spit. The sight is enough for you to clench instinctively around the plug and knot stuffed inside of you, slick tightening around the thick rubber and smooth steel. You only whimper, eyes going wide when she moves back with her chair a little, just enough to set her beautiful, piercing golden eyes on you.

You shiver as you notice her eyes scan over you- your wet face, nose and lips glistening with her arousal, your wide eyes, your heaving chest and bobbing throat moving the collar slightly, your trembling thighs...the slick arousal drooling down on the ground between them,

Then, a sound of satisfaction, enough for your heart to jump. A mere hum, playful, satisfied, hungry. You feel your holes clench around the tail and knot.

“Up”, Bela orders, her smooth voice dripping low like hot velvet wrapped around a blade sharp like her teeth.

Forcing down a whimper, you obey despite your muscles straining and aching. You lift your head and move closer, the leash going taut as she reels you towards her.

“Good pup, come here”, she commands lightly, though you're sure the command might as well have been silent, for another yank on your leash has you move closer already. You gasp, your body adjusted to lean forwards as much as you can, the knot still heavy inside of you. Looking down, she smirks as she notes the goosebumps covering your skin.

“You're behaving well today, little one”, she hums, voice light as she reaches for something by the desk. You can't see, not like this, not on your knees, not with your vision blurring from pleasure and overstimulation, eagerness and desperation alike. When she moves back again and leans down to you, your eyes go wide, immediately landing on the item in her hands.

Thick, rubbery, white. Humiliation and a twisted sense of comfort she instilled in you throughout the time spent training you to be hers, you can only clench uselessly around knot and tail as she lowers the bone gag to you. Shaped like a dog toy, certainly, though meant only for you.

You watch as she dangles it in front of you, giggling teasingly. Normally, one might expect such playful cruelty from Lady Daniela. Now, you can only whine and whimper like a shamed puppy as she kisses your nose, the gag dangled right where you can see it.

“Do you want it, pet?”, she coos, smiling almost sweetly. But you know the test behind her words, know not to answer. After all, as she easily reminds you at times, good pets do not speak. Good pets obey.

As such, you only nod and stretch open your mouth, your eyes squeezing shut as your heart picks up a faster beat. It seems, your Lady is hardly done with you, though.

“Roll over, my little mutt”

You don't dare hesitate.

You drop on your back even as your pussy burns around the knot, muscles screaming in protest. The tail presses firmly against the floor, the plug and knot completely on display as you spread your thighs even without further command- this at least earns you a pat to your inner thigh and a gentle smile that has your heart skip a beat. Inside, you feel the knot shift with the motion, dragging a raw, hot noise from you.

She moves closer to you with all the grace of a queen and predator alike, her hands easily grabbing at your hips and forcing you closer to her, away from the desk. You only whimper and groan softly as the bone gag is slipped between your lips, your eyes wide as you watch her and feel her strong, nimble fingers work behind your head to buckle it tight. Already you feel more drool begin to slide from the corner of your mouth- something especially Lady Cassandra enjoys teasing you for whenever she catches you in such a helpless state.

“There we go... isn't that so much better?”, she whispers sweetly, finally releasing the leash to press her hands against your thighs. You almost jump as you feel her fingers slide down and tease the stretched skin between your holes, her touch precise and well practiced.

“Now, let's see how ruined you are”

Not a request, certainly, and not even a command. You've learned to anticipate her inspections, learned to drool uselessly and moan when she touches you, learned to spread your legs wider and let her see what she's done- what she always does- to you.

The moment you feel her fingers press firmly against your inner thigh, you let out a muffled, sluggish groan, your hips rolling back slightly. Panting softly through your nose, you can't help the warm feeling across your face and throat as she looks at you, your eyes watery, your legs spread, staring up at her with your legs spread like a bitch- no, her puppy- in heat.

Gasping as you feel her touch, she taps the base of the plug once, twice, each time smirking a little at the way your hips flinch and your body gives a helpless jerk at the stimulation and pleasure coursing through you. You feel the thing shift inside of you slightly with every twitch, each enough to make you squirm and moan faintly behind the gag.

You're sure, you must look completely fucked now, drooling, legs spread, thick collar around your marked throat claiming you as hers.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

Groaning as her hand shifts again, you feel her knuckles gently drag up your exposed slit, your arousal sticking to her and drooling from you. You can't see the mess you've made of the knot, though the squelching sound with every little twitch gives you a good idea of just how wet you are. Thankfully, it's rather rare for Lady Bela to punish you for making a mess, so long as you do not do so in certain areas. You flush a little, wondering whether this is why she doesn't allow you on the bed, aside from claiming pups like you belong in their cages and the ground.

Her hands move again, up your thighs again, seemingly done with toying with your privates for now. Instead, you pant through your nose as you feel her palm press against your lower stomach, the heel of her hand firm over where the knot sits deepest. You squeal behind your gag as you feel her other hand grip at the base of the toy, giving it a slow, but steady pull.

At first, you feel it resist, lodged so deep inside and clenched by your pussy. Then, you feel a shiver run down your spine as she smirks down at you, clearly pleased with your display.

“That's it, relax”, she whispers, voice like honey. “Breathe, puppy. Let me take it out...good girl...”

You moan hotly into the gag, your back arching a little off the ground as the knot stretches you again on its way out. You feel yourself clench helplessly around it, your body tense, then loose when the blonde slides it from you with a wet, obscene pop!, leaving you suddenly feeling far, far too empty.

You're certain, though, it won't be like that for long at all...

48 notes · View notes

rehottakes · 1 day ago

Note

the re8 fandom is dying

hiii nonnie! :33

I’ve actually seen this one a few times already but I hope it isn’t true :(

#re8 village #re8 #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil #alcina dimitrescu #mother miranda #donna beneviento #karl heisenberg

21 notes · View notes

rehottakes · 1 day ago

Text

Lil Dani doodles

Happy pride month to all of the five Daniela fans out there (me included)

I forgot the lil brotches but it’s whatever i guess…

88 notes · View notes

rehottakes · 1 day ago

Text

kisses

36 notes · View notes

rehottakes · 3 days ago

Text

Bela full body sprite!

I realized I might need some full body sprites for all of the characters so I went ahead and started with Bela!

21 notes · View notes

rehottakes · 3 days ago

Text

(2/2) resi evil wip i found in the depths of my laptop oopsies

158 notes · View notes

rehottakes · 3 days ago

Note

my REAL HOT TAKE: I hate the RL fan game😅 it takes so much attention away from the main game and is honestly so cringe😭 I tried to play it but it feels like playing something a thirteen year old wrote on wattpad -♣️

hi ♣️! :3

I never fully played the game either but I thought it was really cute actually :33

#bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #re8 village #resident evil #resident lover #mother miranda #donna beneviento

10 notes · View notes

rehottakes · 4 days ago

Text

Awwwww

My favourite Daniela headcanon is one where she leaves you dead animals like mice or birds as a present 🫶🫶

183 notes · View notes

rehottakes · 4 days ago

Text

Ferocity

Entry #6: the forest

Brat! Cassandra Dimitrescu x Dominant! female OC "Verena"

Masterlists

The forest air is sharp and damp, the scent of blood coursing through it. Blood, sticking and dripping from the predators among the looming trees, some moving with grace and precision, others snarling and running nearly on all fours like feral, mindless beasts looking for prey.

Cassandra, the former.

The ground and leaves crunch below her heels as she crouches low behind a gnarled log, dark golden eyes fixated on the trembling, bleeding deer just ahead. Wounded, limping, panting and seconds away from collapse. Now, it's hardly a worthy prey, though it will have to do, having wasted her a good hour or two just tracking it down and injuring the nimble thing to such an extent. She bites her black painted lip, her flies buzzing in excitement as she inhales and smells the panic rolling off the trembling thing in waves.

Her mouth waters, lips parting to reveal a series of sharp, fang-like teeth. Yes, it's weak prey, now, though the animal's beautiful hide and juicy, fat body will more than make up for its marred state.

She moves slowly, her body shrouded in the darkness lingering among the trees. She's just about to strike, her strong fingers sharpening as she moves forwards when she suddenly flinches back as a spear comes flying through the air, massive, sharp, so fast she automatically swarms to avoid it.

Ah- but it is not her it was aimed for.

Instead, she snarls as the deer drops, the spear crushing through the animal's throat and jaw, killing it instantly. She blinks for a moment, watching as it slumps onto the cool ground, limp, dead. Slain by a predator that is not her.

She snarls as she turns, scowling angrily as she picks up the familiar, heavy scent in the air. She doesn't have to turn to where the spear came from to know who sent it flying through the air, the insufferable scent by her nostrils enough already.

She shakes with rage as the woman, no- beast approaches, grunting heavily, panting loudly, dripping blood that has her stomach crump with want. She turns her head from her, biting her lip angrily as her grip tightens around her sickle. Normally, she might fight her outright, might snarl and hiss and bite.

Now, she merely turns, angry, but unwilling to set her eyes on the woman.

A beast, now, a mutt. It isn't the first time she's seen her nearly transformed like this, huge, bulky, sporting fur along her muscular arms, her clothing torn and teeth sharper and larger than they already are. Howling in pain, scarred, flesh torn from growing into this form.

Beautiful. Irresistible, even. Infuriatingly so.

She listens as the woman moves, bites her lip at the squelching sound of the sharp spear sliding from her prey.

That, she forces herself to swallow down. It was hers, anyway.

What she can't swallow down?

When she feels huge, clawed hand grasp her chin, smearing the blood and tugging her face to the scarred one of her wife. She snarls, yanking her face to the side to rip away from the grasp, her sharp teeth bared.

"Calm yourself, dog", she snarls, voice cracked with fury.

The beast-like woman only lets out something akin to a growl and chuckle alike, her dark, now nearly blackened eyes taking in Cassandra's form hungrily. The Dimitrescu doesn't stare, tries hard not to, but her eyes easily take in the dark fur along her muscular arms, her sharp, claw-like nails black and curved, her blood-slick teeth, flaring nose, her hulking, broad body, her torn clothing and the obvious bulge between her legs, just barely covered by scraps of what must have been her brown pants.

Twitching, pulsing, growing larger at the sight of Cassandra.

She's certainly familiar with her wife like this, having been with her like this once before...this, before she was forced to carry the title "wife" for the other woman, back when she was a mere intriguing blacksmith, feral, large, packing something she wanted.

She shakes the thought from her, unwilling to entertain the already cocky woman again already.

"I hunted that, mutt", she hisses. "That was mine", she claims, seeing red when the woman only chuckles, the sound low and bestial. She licks the blood from her large, clawed fingers, sharp teeth flashing at the brunnette.

Grotesque.

Beautiful.

She hates her, but she can't deny how this form in particular has the sadist's pussy clench around nothingness.

Then, the mere moment of admiration passes with her wife's next low, pained chuckle;

"You're too slow, Süße"

That does it, easily so. Her wife snarls, a bestial, loud sound as Cassandra lunges at her. Her sickle immediately digs into her biceps, her flies aggressively biting and piercing her sides and face. They hit the ground hard, bodies colliding with brutal force. Cassandra is on top, snarling, hissing, her face splattered with dark blood. She scratches deep across the beast's shoulder, leaving bloody tracks and blood drooling from the wounds. In return, she screams and snarls, feeling equally sharp, larger claws dig into her hips from each side. They sink in deep, curling in her flesh and forcing her down. She snarls, writhes, kicks and bares her teeth, her dress having torn a little, her panty-covered pussy pressed sharply into the bulge of the woman below her.

"Get off, you filthy mutt!", she snarls, her claw-like nails twisting within strong flesh. She groans hotly as the same is done to her, her body forced down harder, her clit dragging against the heavy, knotted bulge below her. She feels how hot the woman is, how her entire body burns up below her. Perhaps, given this was a little more playful banter, she would start rocking her hips. Like this, she only snarls loudly, her stomach cramping with want despite her anger when the woman snarls back louder.

"Is this how you fight now?", she taunts. "Stealing scraps from real predators? Pathetic mutt!", she snarls, her words earning her a growl so deep it rattles her chest. She feels it, too, feels how the beast's growl shakes her body and reverberates through her, right against Cassandra's thighs and legs on either side of the lycan-like woman and her pussy pressed against her.

She snarls as one of the hands lets go of her hips, blood dripping from the side and staining her hips within seconds. Lethal, to a human. To her, it's just about the type of pain she craves, the type of pain no one but the woman below her would ever even dare think of inflicting on her.

Her face is grabbed and she hisses, the large, bloodied, clawed hand easily grabbing her entire jaw and forcing her closer, her body made to lean forward, easily manhandled by the now far larger, beast-like woman. She scowls as the woman's breath hits her, reeking of her latest prey.

"Say that again"

She smirks, snarling at her again. "Mutt", she spits, her sharp nails clawing at her wife's chest and drawing more blood. By now, it can hardly be said what belongs to who, both of them splattered with it, their hot blood stuck between their bodies. "Dog. Filthy, flea-bitten little-"

Her insult is cut off when the woman yanks her forward again, her body unprepared for the strength the larger woman applies. She screams as she is bit, sharp teeth sinking into the juncture of her shoulder and neck- hard enough to bruise, to leave a possessive imprint that aches and screams with pain. She feels a huge, muscular and furry arm wrap around her back, a clawed hand grab the back of her head easily, keeping her in place.

She should swarm.

She should swarm away and finish her off, to cut her head and present it to her parents as a trophy, to drag back the body and allow her mother and sisters to feast on it, wife or not.

She hates her.

She should act accordingly.

Instead she chokes on a gasp, her bloodied hips twitching despite herself. Rage and arousal flare in her, course through her blood fast and break out at the numerous wounds the woman inflicted on her- her hips, her thighs, her back, her jaw, now. Never her throat, the one place she might truly harm her. Cassandra's cheeks flush with anger and twisted adoration she wishes she didn't feel, knowing the woman purposefully avoided doing as little as grazing her throat with her large body to avoid discomfort.

She hates how easy it is for her wife to do this, to break her composure, to have her gasping and flustered even when she is physically on top.

She shivers when the woman pulls away a little, a large, beast-like, clawed hand raising and snapping down on her back to prevent her from squirming any further. She's tugged close, her breath hitching as she feels the woman's sharp, hot breath against her face.

"You think I- won't put you in your place out here, Prinzessin?", the woman mocks, the words low and guttural, the rough tone betraying the pain it takes for her to speak. She dips her head forwards again, her tongue lazily sliding across the bite she left behind. Cassandra seethes at the name, princess, a loud snarl torn from her that almost immediately turns into a gasp when her hip is forced to roll against the woman below her, her covered pussy grinding hotly against the bulge in the woman's tearing pants.

She bucks beneath her arms, digs her sharp nails into her chest over and over again, but the weight doesn't budge. She snarls as the claws rake through her again, scarring her sides and tearing her dress from her entirely, left only in torn, bloodied stockings, slim panties and a long torn bra.

The kiss that follows is vicious.

Teeth crash. Lips split and blood pours into their mouths. Cassandra fights it fiercely, snarling, hissing, fighting- but not well. Her growls turn into desperate, little moans as her wife tears her sharp claws in and out of her, scraping her skin, dragging her closer or forcing her down to rub against the bulge below her, her body, despite her slim muscles, in the end too petite to put up a struggle against the monstrous, bulky woman.

It isn’t a kiss. It’s a war.

And Cassandra’s losing.

Even worse still, she’s loving it, loving every moment of it.

She's sure, given she could, her wife would likely tease her more, call her a little whining brat, eine süße kleine Jägerin, and worst of all: hers.

Not now, not when the woman howls in pain beneath her, snarling back, her clawed hand forcing Cassandra into position. She doesn't struggle against this, snarls and bites, scratches and hisses even as she lets herself be moved until she's sat properly on top of the monstrous woman, her damp panties dragged aside, leaving her now bare pussy pressed up hotly against the woman's barely covered, pulsing cock.

Her entire hip is grabbed easily in one hand, her hair fisted in the other and yanked back, her head forced to tilt back and expose her marked throat to the lycan.

Her legs wrap tightly around the woman's hips despite her protests, dragging her closer. She begins to snarl less because of her hatred, yet more out of frustration for the torn clothing still separating them, her pussy aching and screaming with need for the cock right below, large, drooling precum already, sporting a huge knot that already has the brunette groan with the thought of a painful stretch.

She snarls, scratches and squirms even knowing she can't free herself unless she swarms, and moans so sweetly when the claws curl into her and force her to keep grinding down like a doll made for the woman's pleasures.

Maybe, she is. Maybe, that's all she wants to be. Maybe, she could not bear being more to someone, couldn't stand thinking of the times the woman would tease and hold her through an orgasm, couldn't handle realizing just how possessive and jealous both of them have become as it comes to one another.

She swipes at the stupid fabric below her, uncaring whether her sharp, claw-like nails slice through the woman's skin, too. Hearing her groan and almost howl in pain, she laughs, satisfied.

Yet, even as she finally feels the hard cock slap against her, she's held completely still, snarling, struggling, held in place so tight every little move not only aches and hurts, but draws more blood as the claws sink back into her hip and her hair is tugged again sharply. She just barely manages to find the dark, now nearly blackened, eyes watching her. Daring her, even, as if to taunt;

"Say it. Be a good brat and say what you need"

She snarls, tries to thrash. Instead, she only trembles, bloodied, furious, beaten by the woman so easily keeping her in place.

"...please...", she whispers after another long moment, hissing slightly as her hair is let go of and the other hand comes down to grasp her other hip.

A look is all she gets, a smirk set on the woman's face. She licks her lips at her, bloodied, taunting even without words.

She snarls at her, arching, defiant even in surrender until she hears the woman laugh- a deep, wolfish sound almost. She tries to squirm again, tries to get what she wants. Instead, she only screams and cries out when her other hip is pierced, blood pouring from her, enough for her to feel lightheaded and needier than she has ever been in her life.

"I said please, you feral bitch", she snarls furiously, but it seems to be enough for the woman below her, or perhaps she is simply too hungry, too.

Embarrassingly, it takes only one moment, a single movement for her to lift Cassandra a little, then a harsh, sharper one to force her back down onto her cock. She's so soaked, her pussy accepts the intrusion easily despite her scream, her tight walls forced to stretch to make room for the woman, her head thrown back and back arched sharply.

She moans and screams hoarsely as her hips are used to easily maneuver her, guiding her up and down sharply. The movements are fast, harsh, beautifully selfish. it's usually been her taking what she wants from maidens, in the past, then tossing them aside. And yes, often enough her wife too prioritizes her, having far too much fun playing with her already to feel the need to get off herself. Not this time, though. This time Cassandra is fucked for her, given no time to even attempt to get used to the pace and sharpness of the thrusts, her wet pussy slapping against the cock's knot every second or so with a sharp, wet plap!

She moans and gasps, twisting under her wife's grip, her lips curled back in a blood-smeared snarl. Each time she's pulled down roughly she groans and gasps, her lower stomach bulged, her soaked pussy stretching wide around the lycan's cock. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, her hands uselessly try to grasp at the fur coming through her wife's torn clothing as though it might give her even a glimpse of the control she had wielded in bed in the past. Not now. Not with her, ever.

She hates her.

But she loves this, loves this so much she just keeps crawling back, snarling, hissing, clawing at the woman as she takes what she's given like a good girl.

Her back arches as her wife speeds up a little, her pussy soon feeling sore and stuffed already, her orgasm rising within her embarrassingly fast. She tries to grasp for any sense of control, so utterly used to being the dominant one, tries to snarl and bite, to insult.

But the beast below her only snarls back at her and jerks her body up and back down faster, wordlessly proving her dominance to the Dimitrescu again. Given she was capable of talking freely, Cassandra is sure the beast-like woman would tease her now, cooing something about what ein braves Mädchen she is, or how süß und eng she is and feels. She knows the few german phrases by now, knows the humiliatingly sweet petnames- Süße, Kleine, mein Schatz, Liebling, meine Schöne- her wife would shower her in, just to see her cheeks heat up as she snarls back in anger.

Anger, that is quickly fucked from her, leaving her only a gasping, whimpering mess just barely in control of her own body. Embarrassingly, she does not use this control to regain dominance as she is sure she should. Instead, she merely moans and gasps, squealing, groaning, snarling, allowing- no, relishing in the way the powerful woman manhandles her even from below her.

Still, even in this state, her dark golden eyes widen as she picks up on how the claws hold onto her hips a little tighter, her flies buzzing loudly as she's yanked down, then held down, her pussy tight around the cock buried nearly all the way inside of her.

It takes her less than a moment to understand.

"Don't you dare, mutt!", she hisses, even as her body curls as much as it can, hips grinding involuntarily and pussy tightening around the cock in her.

Again, if her wife cares, she certainly does not show it, both of them knowing fully well things like No, Stop or Don't you dare mean nothing in their little game, not when they both could easily make the other stop, given they actually tried.

Alas, Cassandra groans breathily as her wife growls low beneath her, forcing her down a little more, her sharp claws drawing more blood from her. She shivers, feeling so claimed she can't help but snarl loudly.

Then, she moans softly, her eyes fluttering shut as she feels the woman cum within her, thick, warm, white seed spilling into her infertile womb, filling her to the brim before the woman moves a little and she feels it drip down the sides of her wife's cock.

She's panting as she's lifted a little more again, squeals in surprise when the woman first brings her forward, then flips them easily, her huge, hulking frame suddenly on top of her.

Having slipped out, the beast-like woman watches the thick cum drool out of the Dimitrescu for a moment, as if amused- or worse- smug with the way she claimed and filled her. Alas, with her knot aching painfully and her body growing restless being this close to Cassandra, this time there's certainly no room for her usual teasing- something she is more than likely to make up for the next time she plays with her precious sadist again.

Cassandra gasps as she feels her push back inside of her, deeper, harder, rougher now that they're in this position. She snarls weakly as her wrists are grabbed and yanked above her head just when she's about to scratch, her fingers curling, her wrists pinned against the dirty ground.

She hates her.

She loves this, has been craving this.

It isn't gentle, and it isn't slow.

But it feels good.

It's feral, a series of growls and groans pulled from both women as Cassandra feels herself be bred roughly. Cum drools from her stuffed pussy, slapping against the knot that has not yet dared push into her.

She snarls loudly as the woman turns rougher, gasping when she hears the low, breathy words forced from her lips:

"Brav sein".

Be good.

She jerks her head back when the woman bends down, her fangs bared, but the noise that rips from her throat is not a protest. Instead, she moans hotly as the halfway transformed woman's mouth crashes to her collarbone, licking and biting, marking and claiming. Her hips move with purpose, her thick cock rutting into her like an animal claiming what's hers. Like this, she is, snarling and growling against fair skin, her other hand easily grasping Cassandra's ass cheek and using her grip on it to tug the woman up against her.

Her claws dig deep, dragging her closer with every brutal thrust that has both of them moan loudly, knowing no one will hear, not here, not among the trees and on the dirty ground. Cassandra, bratty, furious, soaked in her fury and arousal, snarls helplessly, though can only tip her head back as pleasure courses through her body, giving the monstrous woman more room at her throat and collarbone.

She snarls, acts as though this isn't what she needs, fights weakly even as her pussy massages the cock inside and grips it tight, milking every little drop of precum.

Easily so, her body gives her away.

It always does.

"Y-You're- fil-thy!", she snarls, breathless, her voice torn between hate and arousal.

But again, she is left shivering and moaning softly, her breath stuttering as the woman licks a stripe up her neck and allows her sharp teeth to linger there for a moment as she chuckles at the words. Filthy, yes. But they both know they like her this way. After all, it would be all too easy for Cassandra to find another to share the bed with, so to speak. Yet, even long before the agony that is their arranged marriage, has she belonged to only Verena. Only her, always, always crawling back to scratch and bite, to demand and moan when the woman takes her like the brat she is.

She moans, feeling the woman push deeper, harder, claiming her body with a slower, but brutal rhythm. She doesn't have to speak, doesn't have to call her mine for Cassandra to understand the intent and snarl at it. Her claw-like nails scrape at the ground uselessly, pinned completely. The wounds at her hips close up already, her skin bloodied and dirtied from the ground and the countless wounds.

She loves it.

She loves to bite and the sting of being bitten, loves to scratch and later on admire the scratches inflicted on her beautiful skin. She secretly loves when the woman is in her usual, more human form, her body bare below her, her hands gripping her hip as she makes her ride her face. She loves seeing the countless scars littered across her body- most of them inflicted by Cassandra- as her body trembles with pleasure.

Beautiful, she will give her that.

"I ha-ate you..!", she gasps as she feels herself cum around the beast's cock again, her thoughts a mere blur, her body trembling around her. Again, the woman just keeps going, groaning and growling at the sensation of her pussy tightening almost painfully around her. She snarls as her ass is groped harder, her body maneuvered to take it harder.

She almost thinks the woman will push the knot in, almost.

Instead, she laughs at her words, the sound mixing with a low, animalistic growl as she forces out the few, teasing words that have her cheeks burn bright pink;

"Fight me off, then, Süße. Zeig mir was du kannst, meine schöne Jägerin"

Again, she's struck by the realization that she should not indulge in this, that she is a Dimitrescu!, not a mere breeding toy!

Yet she moans sharply at another thrust, her eyes catching her bulged lower stomach, her pussy twitching helplessly around the cock stuffing it. She forces out a chuckle, yet it comes past her lips far too breathless to hold any dominance at all.

"T-Tempting...", she teases, her head thrown back against the ground as she moans low through her teeth.

She whimpers as she feels the woman's strong tongue drag along her neck, licking up and down, sucking, biting lightly, then- stopping. Stopping just at the spot that has her shiver and tremble. She knows, a single bite is all it would take now. A single, sharp, brutal bite right there and she would bleed out, her neck broken, her head possibly severed, even. The beast she is forced to call her wife certainly possesses the strength to bite through her neck.

Instead, she kisses and licks over the spot, growling, humming, moaning hotly.

She hates her.

She hates that she trusts her completely.

She hates knowing that she can, that despite the game played by the two of them, the woman would never hurt her too much, would never cross the line, would never put her in danger that isn't a thrill to both of them.

And she hates that she is the same.

She shivers as the woman grinds deep inside of her, screams as the woman bites down- not too hard, barely enough to break skin. Still, she howls, her wrists snapping from the woman's grip and claw-like nails burying in her thick arms, her back arching as another orgasm is torn from her. She's panting, crying out as the woman slowly forces the knot into her. It hurts, Black God, it hurts. And it hurts so good.

She draws blood, doesn't even notice. Her wife lets her.

She's panting, vision blurry, throat bloody, body twitching and sporting goosebumps, pussy burning and stretched around the thick knot.

She feels it, now, feels it each time she's with the woman.

What it's like to be prey.

And Black God, she is growing addicted to the feeling, only with the other woman. Only her, frustratingly.

The woman doesn't thrust as sharply now, doesn't stretch her out any more than the large knot already does, knowing the Dimitrescu will feel the stretch for a good while, even with her body healing most wounds fairly fast upon consuming blood.

That being said, she likes the thought of her precious brat swarming off to the castle again and practically diving into a bloodbath, her pussy gaped and leaking blood and cum, her body yearning for more still.

Cassandra's body arches against hers, curling into her chest almost as she feels the monstrous woman begin grinding slowly, her knot squeezed tight. The stretch is slow- intentional, of course- dragging every nerve in her body awake. She feels on fire, feels so full it hurts in the best way.

She can't stop the way her thighs part wider than they already are, her body silently opening up and begging for more, greedy, spoiled, bred. Her breath hitches when the woman moves a little closer, her large fingers clasping around her thigh and dragging her closer yet, at last flush against one another.

She snarls weakly,

a challenge.

A challenge, which only has the woman growl back and thrust back and forth sharply, forcing a cry from her. The thrust is deep, painful with the overly large knot in her. Brutal, almost. Just the way she likes it.

She writhes beneath her, chest heaving, claw-like nails hooked into strong, furred muscles and drawing blood that drips down onto her bare body.

Beautiful.

Breathtaking, like an offering to the gods, or even better yet, to the woman she enjoys despising so very much.

Her moans aren't words anymore, just choked, broken sounds torn from her at every little move. She whines as her own hand snakes down between them and she rubs at her clit, knowing the other woman's hands are far too sharp and large to attend to her like this, this time. She gasps, low and desperate, tears of overstimulation gathering in the corner of her stunning golden eyes.

When the woman bends low again, her teeth dragging along her neck and breath hot against her skin, she turns her head, baring her throat without thinking.

She feels her wife's filthy grin, feels how the cock and knot pulse and ache so deep within her.

She knows, she's soaking the knot and cock within her, her own and her wife's cum trapped in by the thick thing, her pussy pulsing around it like she can't get enough. Her legs shake with every little move, every grind against her, her body reduced to a helpless thing of utter need.

Every sound she makes is filthy, much as she had accused the other woman of being only a little while ago.

She hates her.

She hates how good it feels. How right.

She gasps as she's made to cum again, crying at the pain before, at last, she feels the knot become a little smaller within her. She shivers as the woman growls against her neck, groans hotly as she almost seems to collapse on top of her, her muscular arms trembling by her head, her cock pulsing and twitching helplessly as she gasps.

She knows this game by now, knows it won't be much longer before the knot is fully gone and she can finally make her way back to the castle, back to acting like she hates every little touch of the woman as much as she hates her as a whole. Back to acting like she's in charge. Back to acting like her pussy isn't gripping her tight, like her body doesn't arch for her and moans don't flow for just her.

For now, she only snarls weakly, her head rested against the ground as the woman kisses and licks at her throat.

A thank you.

32 notes · View notes

rehottakes · 4 days ago

Note

Hi, I'd like to ask for hyperstimulated Bela who is extremely sensitive but still doesn't say the safe word until she faints

Subby Bela is an extra cute Bela tbh!😙🥳 damn y’all, this writer’s block is going strong😬🥲

Masterlists

You smile slightly as you take her in, her beautiful form, draped across the ruined sheets.

Everything about her is white tonight. You think, she looks almost angelic. You can hardly tear your greedy eyes away, even knowing how good she looks in black, too.

Not today.

Today, she's bound in white- soft, satin ribbons looped around her wrists and knotted tight and neatly behind her back, forcing her plump chest out just a little more with every sharp breath you tear from her. Her skin, porcelain pale, is beautiful against the sheen of her lingerie- a sheer white colour, too. Lace, tracing over her sensitive breasts and down her ribs, clinging between her thighs even now that she's soaked through it all.

A white blindfold rests over her eyes, the same white silk as the gag gently stretching her mouth open and keeping her quiet for you. You were careful with this. Tonight isn't about punishing her, not when Bela works so hard to be a good girl for you. Still, you can't deny the rush flowing through you as you see her like this, squirming and drooling past the gag, her blindfold wet with tears from how sensitive she has become. She doesn't end it, doesn't say the safe word you've established, doesn't tap out like you told her to should she want to stop and feel too weak to swarm.

No, Bela is right where she wants to be.

You briefly trail your fingertip across her lips, then the wet gag. She whimpered so sweetly when you tied the last knot- high, soft, uncertain of what's to come, only hearing your promise of how much more rewarding every little touch will feel when she is neither capable of seeing you move towards her, nor ask you to. You shiver, remembering the first soft, muffled moan you've dragged from her tonight. A sound hot enough to make your fingertips itch to touch again.

She's laid out on the bed again, thighs parted exactly how you told her to, still so eager to obey. You smile at the thought. Your beautiful Bela, always such an eager little thing, always so desperate to please and prove herself to be the good girl you always coo she is.

Her body trembles, her thighs twitching already. Like this, you see her sopping wet pussy outline her thin white underwear, so soaked the fabric is nearly see through. You catch the outline of her pearly clit, throbbing and pink below the fabric, sore and toyed with for hours already. You smirk, almost moaning when you lower your hand to flick the little nub with your finger and she jolts beautifully, moaning hotly into the wet gag.

So sensitive...

Just how you like her. Just when she behaves best.

Looking up, you notice her chest rising and falling heavily with every breath. Her nipples stand rock hard through the thin, lacy bra covering them, pink and abused from your tongue and fingers. You feel your core throb, your mind recalling her cute squeals and moans when you wrapped your lips around her breast and sucked, her body arching into yours helplessly. She gasps as you lower your hand to her inner thigh, your touch teasing and grounding all at once.

She shivers as your knuckles drag across her warm skin, soft little moans just barely escaping her as she feels you tease the lace between her legs, dragging it a little tighter just to see wetness seep from the sides.

She's soaked, and has been for hours. Just how you like her.

Just how you know she likes herself, too.

You move a little closer, your eyes flickering across her trembling frame. Beautiful. Breathtaking, even. She whines softly as you release the white cloth entirely, turning her head as though hoping to listen to where you are. Of course, you haven't taken all her senses, this time, and she has a relatively good idea of where you are. That being said, she still jumps a little when you reach up and lightly tap two of your fingers against the front of her makeshift gag, her head lifting immediately.

You smirk, picking up the helpless little sound that just barely pushes past her gag and vibrates against the fabric.

“Good Girl”, you whisper, letting your fingers trail down to her glistening lips. Her breathing quickens momentarily, her head lifting a little more when your hand drops down a little more and your fingers slide down her bare throat- an unusual sight, certainly, though you figured the choker- necklace is safer set on her nightstand for today- and to her collarbone. “Look at you listening like a good girl”, you coo, smirking as she moans softly again, her thighs twitching lightly and back arching a little more. Her cheeks are dusted pink, the usual reaction to your praise.

That, of course, and the pulse between her thighs.

She whines again when you drag a nail across the edge of her breast, completely helpless to the touch. She arches her back just barely, her tied wrists flexing beneath her. She wants to be your Good Girl. But she's squirming already, her drooling pussy aching. she doesn't know how many orgasms you've torn from her already, doesn't recall how often she was made to come for you tonight alone.

Clearly, staying a good girl is more of a challenge, now. Alas, with her wrists bound and thighs spread open, there is little the pretty blonde can do anyway, except to obey, of course.

You slide your hand lower again, cooing gently as you slide it between her thighs and press your palm against her soaked, warm panties. She jerks in place, a desperate little cry muffled into the wet gag as her head twitches down a little.

“Sshhh, Bela”, you whisper to her, pressing a hot kiss to her flushed, pink cheek. “Don't you want to keep being my good girl?”- she moans into the gag, nodding weakly- “That's it, beautiful. You're doing so well...”

She moans hotly as two of your fingers stroke down the length of her slit first, teasing her through the soaked lace. You rub slowly at first, then a little higher, smirking when your fingers deliberately rub across her pearly clit and her hips immediately start to shake a little.

You press harder, chuckling fondly as the beautiful thing squeals.

You groan hotly. You love how she sounds- helpless, needy, soaked, all that is the powerful Dimitrescu daughter stripped from her. You don't care for it. Bela, though? Bela is beautiful like this. Yours, free from all the expectations except the single one she sets herself: to be good.

To take it all.

And to thank you after, like the well behaved, sweet girl she is. Her head feels dizzy with want and love at the thought, even as it hardly helps her stay in control of herself.

Your mouth waters at the sounds she makes, each almost entirely muffled by the gag. You feel her body tremble, feel her hips jerk up when your other hand clamps down on them to hold her in place. With another kiss pressed to her cheek, she hears and feels you move down a little more again, back between her legs, your eyes set to her clit slowly burning up below your fingertip again.

You lean in slowly, relishing in the way she flinches in surprise when your lips brush against the smooth, soft skin of her warm inner thigh, just above the strap of the thin panties you put her in. She's gasping softly for you, rolling her hips helplessly against your hand and bucking every time you rub her clit a little faster or harder. Her thighs twitch with the desire to press shut, to twitch and hide away and spare herself more of the overstimulating pleasure flowing through her. You only chuckle, pressing another kiss to her inner thigh as your free hand slides from her hip to her thigh, keeping her nice and spread for you.

After all, how could you deny yourself this view?

You stroke your finger lazily across her clit, moaning hotly with every gasp and squeal you get from her. The moan muffles most, though you manage to just barely make out the slurred, muffled phrases she moans into it; “Mhgmmnmmm!”, “eas'e!”, “'ove!”

You close your eyes briefly, humming lowly. Another curl of your fingertip against her clit and she jolts, moaning hotly and drooling helplessly, her fingers twitching against her back. Another drag of your knuckles against her soaked panties, brushing just against her slit, and you groan at her beautiful moans and cries of overstimulation.

“Sshhh, you're doing so well, pretty girl”, you coo, smiling again as you notice her inhale sharply and twitch below your fingers at the praise whispered against her skin.

Alas, as terribly cute as she looks, your mouth waters at the sight of her soaked panties and the arousal drooling down by their sides, stuck to her inner thighs and drooling to the bed.

Your mouth waters as you move again, your hands curling behind the back of her knees. She squeals into the gag as you pull them apart and up, easily throwing them over your shoulders with more impatience and hunger than you'd like to admit. She wobbles slightly, gasping, breathless, her chest heaving and breasts pushing against the white lace. Bela whines hotly as you tug the panties to the side, her beautiful face flushed with warmth and overtaken a pink hue.

Desperate. Beautifully so, now. You lick your lips as your eyes take in the sight presented to you; her sopping wet pussy, drooling her cum and arousal like a warm honeypot. She gasps shakily as she feels your breath hit her core, her pussy clenching around nothingness. You feel her tremble for you, her body twitching and legs shaking slightly over your shoulders, every bit of her tensing and trembling for you.

You laugh as you move in and drag your tongue flatly across her slit, her thighs immediately clenching as she squeals and moans breathily into the gag. Yet, with your hands free and her legs over your shoulders, it helps her nothing. You hold her hips steady, your thumbs massaging her smooth skin as you keep her in place for you. You twirl your tongue once, moaning and humming in satisfaction as you pick up her taste.

You lick again, the tip of your tongue dipping into her, this time, and your nose brushing across her clit. Already, she's shaking again, painfully sensitive, far too easily to bring to an orgasm so far beyond her control. You lick again, hungrily so, your eyes shutting and hands gripping her hips a little tighter. She's soft against your tongue, her southern walls warm and wet, her core even more so. Her clit aches and pulses helplessly, begging for attention you coo, you will grant her in no time.

She squeals- something- most likely something like “My love!” or “Sensitive!”- though it's all lost to the drenched gag and her own moans. She's shaking helplessly, her hard nipples poking against the fabric of her bra, her upper body squirming and legs shaking.

You moan hotly against her, your hands sliding down a little to grab at her thighs. She's tense and loose at the same time, her body so overstimulated she easily moans and cries for you again, brokenly letting little, slurred phrases like “please!” and “s-so much!” slip into the gag.

But, much like when you dragged some orgasms from her before, you don't give the beautiful blonde time to breathe. She moans shakily as you turn to her clit, your tongue tip flicking across it teasingly. Again, you chuckle lowly, hearing her squeals and screams even through the gag, and briefly shake your head fondly. Yes, it was certainly a good idea to tie her up and gag her. You know she would never recover from having a maid or her sisters hear her- not that you're not sure some maid must have heard her at some point. The poor, sensitive thing is hardly being quiet or subtle, after all, you think with a smirk.

She trashes hotly as you wrap your lips around her clithood again, your tongue greedily flicking and swirling around the sensitive nub, then flattening and dragging against it again.

“Mhmmmmmmm! Mhgggnmmm! Mhmmnmm!” comes from above you, though you only chuckle again, the vibrations of it against her clit enough for her toes to curl.

She's louder, her head thrown back against the mattress, her back arching off the mattress and the pillows you set up for her. You know, the poor thing is terribly close again, her body far too sensitive to be touched like this.

Ah; but you have such fun playing with your girlfriend when she's like this.

You feel yourself only grow hungrier as you feel her legs tremble on your shoulders, your tongue working harder and faster against her as she moans and cries out. She squeals as she feels a finger slip into her, far too gone to have even noticed you move your hand- one between her legs, your middle finger pushed deep into her with the index one already sliding against her slit, your other hand grasping her hip tight to ensure she can't squirm away.

Like this, with a single curl of your finger and your mouth by her clit, you tear yet another orgasm from her. She's squealing into the gag, her face hot and thighs trembling, her clit aching and pulsing beneath your very tongue. You can't resist, can't slow down. She screams and gasps as you continue sucking her clit hungrily, your index finger pushing deep inside and curling alongside your middle one.

You thrust a little slower, your pace gentle, but fingers reaching deep into her, each thrusts enough for her to see stars and every little graze of your tongue, lips or teeth against her clit sending a jolt of pleasure and electricity through her defenseless body.

You chuckle lowly, feeling her close again already this fasst. Bela's body speaks volumes, even as every little moan, every gasp, every shriek and every helpless cry for mercy is easily caught by the gag. You slow down just briefly, lifting your head to see whether she will stop. Alas, she only continues squirming and moaning, giving no indication of tapping out at all- no legs lightly kicking against your back, no fingers tugging the sheets, no safeword coming out muffled by the gag.

You lean in closer again instantly, your fingers curling and pressing right against the spot that makes her whole body jolt for you. She shivers as you lick across her clit again and press a kiss to it, humming softly.

“Close again, pretty girl?”, you tease, smiling as you feel her clench around your fingers at the petname. She nods frantically, her hair a mess against the sheets, the blindfold still- somehow- sat snuggly on her. Her mouth tries to form a little plea again, all caught by the gag successfully muffling her squeals and screams.

You drag your tongue back to her clit and suck, your fingers thrusting deeper, sharper, hungrier. You feel her warm, spongy inner walls clench around you with every thrust inside, feel her tremble when you squeeze at her hip with your other hand. Soon, you feel her legs shake madly again, her hips jerking and chest heaving hotly with every sharp breath.

You moan into her, licking down and tasting every little bit of arousal that drools from her and slides from your fingers. Every few seconds her whole body jolts, pussy clenching with every thrust into her, her fingers trembling below her where the white ribbon binds her. As the one before, her orgasm hits her hard, tearing moans and screams from her that remind both of you why the gag was a good idea.

“Good girl”, you praise, pressing a wet kiss to the top of her cunt, just above her clit. You pull your fingers from her lazily, chuckling a little when her hips rock forward on instinct as though to chase the feeling of them still. She shivers as you press another kiss to her inner thighs, each accompanied by a hum of praise as you work your way back between her legs; “So good, Bela”, “That's my good girl”, “You taste so well”, “I can't get enough of you”, “You look so beautiful, my darling”

You drag your tongue back across her, lazy circles just around her swollen, pink clit, not quite touching it directly to grant the poor thing at least a little break before tearing more from her. You still feel the tremble coursing through her, feel how her thighs shake a little still. She moans into the gag, her body arching off the mattress with every lick to her clit as though to chase the feeling of your tongue.

Looking up, you almost coo seeing the tears soak up the fabric of the blindfold and run down her cheeks. She's panting, her chest rising and falling in shudders, the lace bra now sticking to her skin. You feel her shake and hear her whimpering- desperate, overwhelmed, trembling, begging brokenly through the gag.

You lean over her this time when you push your fingers in, one hand making her flinch in surprise when you cup her warm cheek, the other's fingers sliding back into her. Not rough, or fast, not now. But deep, so deep it has her arch her back and press her face desperately into your hand.

“Good girl, such a good girl, Bela...”, you praise, your voice soft. You brush your fingers across her flushed, pink cheeks, the tip of your thumb grazing the gag's strap and blindfold at times. Her pussy squelches wetly with every thrust inside, her slim legs trembling against the sheet and body squirming below yours. They clamp uselessly against you, trapping your hand between them, though it does nothing to stop the overwhelming pleasure your fingers give her. She moans so loudly, made to take it like a good girl.

Ah, and she tries. And it warms your heart. You see her for what she is, see how despite her tears and squirms she leans into you so eagerly, stripped from the everyday expectations and image she is forced to hold up of herself. No longer composed, no longer too strict or formal. Now, she presses herself into every touch hungrily, sobbing with need and overstimulation alike, her face pushing into your hand, her pussy clamping down on your fingers and squeezing them gently with every thrust deep inside her wet heat.

She whines hotly, shaking her head a little, her tongue pushing against the gag as much as she can. You only giggle at her, tapping the white item as you lean down to kiss her cheek.

“You want this gone, sweet girl?”, you hum against her skin, smiling against her when your thumb grazes her clit and has her whole body jolt. She nods desperately, body leaning against yours as much as she can, given her sensitive and weakened state. You hum again, as if considering this, smirking as you watch her blush spread from her cheeks and slowly make its way down her throat with every little tap of your fingertip to the gag.

“You're so loud, sweetheart...”, you think out loud, smirking when you curl your fingers and pull another scream from her, proving your point. “We can't have someone listen in on you, can we, Bela?”, you whisper against her, thumb back to circling her clit hotly.

“But maybe...”, you consider, pressing a kiss to her just as you feel her body jolt more, hips bucking wildly up against you, her thighs trembling as you finger her closer to the edge again.

“Maybe if my good girl promises to keep quieter...we could”, you hum, chuckling as another particularly deep thrust has her squeal, legs kicking weakly against the sheets. Her wrists twist a little behind her back, straining the ribbon you tied tightly around them.

“Maybe...if you promise to behave well, little one, we could make a compromise”, you whisper filthily, eying the way she shakes below you, sobbing, moaning, crying sweetly for more and mercy at the same time. You feel her orgasm approach before she does, feel how her walls tighten and her hips start to rock not from useless resistance but sheer need again. She nods quickly, forcing down another scream as she whimpers instead, coming out so broken it sounds almost like please again.

You thrust a little faster again, your hand cradling her warm cheek as you push her over the edge. Of course you could mark how she screams again- a sound that would surely alert a maid or two- or worse, one of her younger sisters- was it not for the gag. Instead, you merely wipe the drool from around her mouth, your fingers thrusting slowly to help her ride it out, your own wrist aching a little.

“Good girl”, you whisper. “Such a good girl, Bela. You've done so well”, you praise, one hand moving away and letting the drenched panties snap back into place, the other moving to the back of her head where the gag is secured. She whines softly, her hips twitching and head turning to help you, her hot cheek pressing against the warm sheets.

The moment the gag is off you lean in to kiss her, moaning into her mouth as she meets yours so eagerly. She whines and gasps, immediately picking up the taste of her arousal still sticking to your tongue. Normally she already gives up control easily, reverting much rather to your good girl than to put up a fight. Now is no different as she moans and whimpers into your mouth, your tongue easily dominating hers.

“You're going to give me a little more, won't you, my beautiful girl?”, you whisper against her lips when you need to pull away, your tongue darting out to lick hers teasingly as she whimpers.

“P-Please”, she rasps out, her voice quiet and hoarse from moaning and screaming for hours, her body completely spent. You only kiss her again, hand moving up to undo the white blindfold covering her eyes still.

When it comes off, you can't help but smile as she squints despite the only dimly lit room, her face scrunching up adorably as she tries to adjust to the dim light. Her eyes land on you next, pools of pleasure, love and exhaustion swirling within them. You decide, she can do a little more, surely.

Your hands slide down her body again, easily grasping the panties and sliding them down her weak legs. She makes a small, squeak-like sound of surprise as you lean down and remove them from her, though with her legs far too weak to move just yet it's easy to slide the item from her and leave her almost completely bare.

You rise with a low grunt, pulling her with you and into your arms. She gasps sharply, golden eyes wide in surprise as she's tugged forwards. Her hands twitch helplessly behind her back, though even with her eyes wide and lips parted as she pants, you don't fully release her yet. As she's pulled to your lap and sat on your thigh she instinctively tries to close your legs, but you don't let them.

“Ah-Ah, Bela”, you tease, “be good, sweetheart. Don't make me put in the gag again”, you coo, your hand coming up to tap her bottom lip playfully. At this, she straightens up again, her lips hungrily pressing to yours, desperate for another kiss she's been waiting for ever since you placed the gag earlier today.

You hold her high against you, one arm supporting her back, the other holding her hip as she moans into your mouth. Ah, and you swallow it all eagerly- every little moan, every little whimper and gasp you catch from her.

Pulling away, she immediately eyes you again, golden orbs wide and curious, her body pliant against yours. You know not to take it for granted. When you guide her and her pussy brushes down against your thigh, she shrieks, body pushing forward against yours and face hiding away in your throat, her thighs feeling weak again in an instant.

“Sshhhh, you're doing so good for me, Bela. So good...but you're not done yet, pretty girl”, you whisper against her, drawing a gasp from her when you reach up to grasp her chin and pull her face back into view. This time, she only whines and whimpers, her cheeks flushed pink and teary eyes finding yours. “Pl-ease I...I ca-an't...!”, she gasps, though quickly lowers her head again as you guide her back down.

She whines softly as her wet pussy presses messily against you again, a moan quickly drawn from her again when you press your lips to hers and adjust her, your thigh now flush against her sore clit. She flinches, moans, cries and begs all at once, her body slowly rocked on your thigh and clit rubbing against you with every little move she feels far too sharply.

“Nghmnngnm....”

“That's it, sweetheart, that's a good girl”, you praise, kissing her quickly and deeply to muffle the next series of moans that come from her. Bela has, simply put, never been good at keeping quiet. Thankfully, you have plenty ways to keep her so.

As such, Bela gasps sharply when you pull away and gently move your hand over her mouth next, the other arm tightening around her and rocking her a little faster.

“God....Good girl..!”, you groan. She's hot and wet against you, her moans quickly growing louder beneath your hand. She's trembling already, her fingers curling uselessly and thighs trembling on either side of yours. You rock forward a little when she quickly becomes too weak to move without your help, the strong, formal eldest sister turned into a trembling, moaning mess on top of you, bound and dripping, her eyes rolled back and body jolting every few seconds, her clit sore and soaked from her own arousal rubbing against your thigh quickly.

“MhmMm!”, she shrieks as the arm around her adjust a little, your hand reaching down to grasp her thick ass and make her thrust a little faster, hips rolling hotly against you.

Leaning forward you groan against her throat, fingers curling against the soft flesh of her ass cheek, your own core throbbing with need as she smears hers all over your thigh.

“Good...girl, that's it, Bela”, you gasp. You feel her hot breath- ragged- against your palm, feel her push herself to you in a desperate attempt to muffle all the moans, gasps, shrieks and cries that slip from her.

“You're so beautiful like this, my pretty girl. Wet...”, you coo, tensing your thigh as though to prove your point, her flushed, soaked pussy sliding easily now, coated in her own wetness. “...sensitive”, you add as you kiss her throat and squeeze her ass, relishing in the way her back arches against you and she moans loudly into your hand, trembling helplessly already. “So close you'll cum on command like a good girl”, you whisper against her skin, teeth grazing her throat gently.

Her whole body jolts at another thrust, her legs kicking weakly and hips bucking, her whole body helpless in your arm. She shivers as you lean in closer, lips brushing her ear as you command; “Cum, my good little girl”

Her third orgasm crashes through her with a sharp cry, tears rolling down her cheeks and dripping down your fingers as she writhes in your arm, gasping, twitching, trembling so hard you have to tighten your hold on her just to keep her from slipping away. You move your hand just enough to let her breathe, stroking wet hair from her face and pulling her closer again, your lips brushing hers.

She jerks as you lift her higher and bring her down again, her soaked pussy flush against the muscle of your leg again, slick enough to easily slide against you. Her entire body shudders as she moans and cries out again, far too sensitive and too far gone to even attempt to speak. She cries helplessly as you grip her hips and guide her again, rolling her down onto your skin.

“Nhmnno II-I ca-an't ple-aese!”, she cries out, the words coming out hoarse and sluggish, her face pressing hungrily against you. Another sob comes from her as you roll her hips again and they jerk again, wet cum squirting from her sensitive pussy at the touch.

“Ssssh, it's alright. Remember what I told you, love”, you whisper. Though, you find she doesn't utter the safe word you two set on, doesn't push away more than the little, weak twitches she offers in a poor attempt to spare herself more overstimulation.

As you roll her hips again she cries out again, sobbing with need you eagerly swallow when you kiss her. You rock her again, hands guiding her hips back and forth, every little touch granting you another hot moan and more wetness squirted against your thigh. You're slow at first, teasing almost, just enough friction to drag her folds and clit across your thigh. You almost coo as you feel her tense up, knees trying to brace as if to control the movement, but she's too weak. She can only moan and cry as you guide and press her down, dragging moan and scream after scream from her every time her swollen clit catches on the flexed thigh beneath her.

Moving again you tilt her hips a little, just enough for the thrusts to be a little sharper. You groan into her mouth as you feel her pulse in return, soaked, more overstimulated than she has ever been in her life, put through far too many orgasms to keep track, each only making her more responsive and sensitive for you.

She's guided quivering and moaning, her tongue easily dominated and every little sound kissed from her. Her body rocks weakly with every roll and push of her hips, her breath stuttering against your lips. Every little sound, every please or curse now reduced to frantic little whimpers and squeals, each messier and more helpless than the last.

Feeling her tense up weakly again and feeling more wetness drool from her, you smirk.

You've promised her a long night-

“That's it, Bela. Be a good girl and cum for me”

-and a long night she will endure.

83 notes · View notes