Chapter 349- Loosing her Body
The cry punched out of her sharp and involuntary, her back arching, fresh milk spurting hot against his tongue as her body bucked into the sensation.
He released the breast with a slow, wet pull and surged upward.
His mouth sealed over hers — deep, filthy, tongue stroking hers while she was still processing the sting — and he whispered it directly into the kiss.
"It’s mine."
He wrapped one hand around his cock — nine inches of veined, flushed heat — and pressed the blunt head against her slick, dark-haired entrance.
Her thighs were still spread wide. He hooked one knee over his elbow, opening her further, the bush of hair parting around his cockhead as it nudged the glistening folds apart.
She trembled violently.
Her entire body — from her bitten nipples to the soles of her feet — twitched and shook as the blunt, hot pressure nudged her folds wider.
"Kenji... what are you doing?" Her voice cracked, small and confused, half-trapped in the fog of his spell. "It hurts..."
Why does it hurt.
Why is there something hot and large pressing into the place she has never let anything enter.
He kneaded her breast, rolling the leaking nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"Of course it hurts," he murmured, voice thick with quiet satisfaction. "After all, it’s your first time."
Then he pushed.
One inch — slow, relentless, her folds stretching wide around his girth.
Two.
The tightness gripped him like a fist, walls rippling, trying to push him back by reflex alone.
Three.
Her hips shifted — backward, instinctively — but his grip on her thigh held her in place.
Four.
Her hymen stretched — resisted — the sensation somewhere between pressure and a slow, building burn.
Five.
It tore.
A slick pop, a wet give, and blood trickled warm down her thighs — thin, immediate — mixing with the clear slickness of her arousal on the sheets below.
Her entire body jerked.
Violently, from crown to toes — every muscle seizing simultaneously — a raw, fractured cry tearing from her throat before she could swallow it.
"Ahh—!! It hurts—!!"
Something broke.
Not catastrophically — not the way she would have imagined if she had ever let herself imagine — but permanently. Irreversibly. The particular breakage of something that cannot be unbroken, that changes what you are on the other side of it.
Raven chuckled — low, wicked — and sealed her mouth with a deep French kiss before the sound could build into a scream.
His tongue stroked hers, slow and claiming, swallowing the whimpers as he rocked his hips — pulling back just enough to feel her walls clench desperately around him before sliding those five inches home again.
Her pussy gripped him like wet silk tightened around a fist.
Impossibly tight, impossibly hot, already beginning to mold to his shape whether she wanted it to or not.
"Stop, Kenji... it hurts..." she gasped against his mouth, the name still wrong, still misplaced, her drugged mind refusing to correct it.
He nipped her earlobe — sharp, deliberate.
"Ah, shut the hell up. It’s annoying."
Then he thrust forward.
One smooth, brutal stroke — all nine inches — the remaining length disappearing into her virgin body in a single, total claim.
The fat, flushed head punched straight through her cervix.
Directly into her womb.
She screamed.
Raw, broken, the sound ripping from her throat and hitting the ceiling as her eyes flew wide — both of them — staring upward at nothing, unseeing, while her body convulsed beneath him in total, involuntary seizure.
"STOP! IT HURTS—!"
Blood and pussy juice leaked together around the stretched, impossible ring of her entrance, soaking the sheet beneath her hips in a spreading dark stain.
Too full.
Too deep.
Something that was never meant to be touched, sitting right against the tip of something that had no intention of retreating.
Raven reached sideways without disconnecting from her — finding the thin strip of white cloth he had torn earlier from her training top — and tied it over her eyes in one efficient motion.
The blindfold settled against her flushed cheeks, cutting off the ceiling, cutting off his face, cutting off the only anchor she had left.
He grabbed both her wrists.
Pinned them together above her head and bound them with a second strip — pulling them taut, stretching her arms straight overhead — so that her body was fully exposed, fully open, her heavy breasts jutting free with nothing to hide behind.
Her nipples leaked steadily.
Twin thin streams of milk running down the slopes of her breasts, pooling in the hollow of her collarbone, dripping to the sheet in slow, rhythmic drops.
He gripped one breast roughly.
Then he started to move.
Long, deep strokes — dragging his cock almost all the way to the entrance before slamming it back home — each withdrawal pulling a strangled whimper from her chest, each plunge cutting it off into a sharp, shocked cry.
PAH! PAH!
"Mmmph—!! Ahh—!! Haaah—!!"
She couldn’t see.
She couldn’t move her hands.
All she had was the sensation — the enormous, pulsing fullness stretching her from the inside out, scraping against walls she hadn’t known existed, filling and withdrawing and filling again in a rhythm that her body was already beginning to recognise as a language.
The pink slave mark on her mound glowed brighter with every thrust.
Pulsing in time with his hips — pink, then deep rose, then a vivid, warm crimson — the light of it casting faint colour on the inside of her thighs.
[Slave Mark — Level 1 achieved. The slave is being trained.]
PAH! PAH! PAH!
"Unhh—!! M—mmph—!! AAAHH—!!"
Her bound arms strained against the fabric overhead, wrists flexing uselessly.
Her breasts jiggled with every impact — the full, heavy weight of them swinging in tight arcs, milk spraying faintly from the nipples on the deepest thrusts.
His cock.
That long, thick, ridged thing driving into her over and over.
She had no word for how full she was — no reference, no comparison — just the total, overwhelming knowledge that something was rearranging her insides with complete authority and her body was answering it with gushing, shameful approval.
The orgasm hit her like a wall.
No warning — no building edge — just her pussy clenching so violently around his shaft that the sudden squeeze of it made him grunt above her.
She squirted — hard, in a long, continuous arc — soaking his balls, his thighs, the sheet beneath her in a hot, rhythmic fountain that didn’t stop for several seconds while her body shook apart.
"Like a bitch—!!" The words tore out of her broken and wild and entirely beyond her control. Her voice cracked on the last syllable and dissolved into a long, ragged wail as she went completely limp.
Raven pulled her nipple sharply.
Twisted it between his fingers until her limp body jolted back to attention.
"What happened?" His voice was unhurried and deeply amused. "The night is still long."
He plunged back in to the hilt in a single, smooth stroke.
PAAAH!
"AAANGHH—!!"
She sobbed.
Fresh tears soaked the blindfold through as he established the rhythm again — deep, relentless — not slowing for her tears, not slowing for the oversensitivity, not slowing for anything.
He leaned down, groping both heavy breasts at once — wide hands filling with soft flesh — and sucked both nipples into his mouth simultaneously.
Milk flooded his tongue in warm, steady streams as he fucked her.
"Yeah," he growled around the mouthful of her flesh, voice thick and satisfied, hips never breaking pace. "This is some high-level quality for a tight pussy. It’s too soft."
"Too perfect."
PAH! PAH! PAH!
"Hngh~!! Aaahh~!! Ouungh~!!"
She was losing pieces of herself.
Not violently — not all at once — but in the way a shoreline loses ground to water. Quietly. Incrementally. Kenji’s name still lived somewhere in her chest, still warm, still hers — but it was getting harder to find in the noise of what was happening to her body.
Her pussy was clenching around something it had already decided to keep.
Her brain just hadn’t caught up yet.
The air in the room was heavy now.
Thick with the scent of sex and milk and the particular warmth of a body being claimed for the first time — sweet and heady and impossible to mistake for anything else.
PAH! PAH! PAAAH!
"HIIEK—!! Nngh~!! AAAHHN—!!"
Her milk leaked in steady streams down her ribs.
Her pussy juice squirted on every deep stroke, running down his shaft in thin rivulets.
The slave mark on her mound pulsed bright and rhythmic — a living thing, etched in warm rose light, glowing brighter with every inch he buried inside her.
’Kenji...’
’My body...’
’It’s not mine anymore...’
’I can’t—’
’I’m losing—’