Julian's laugh was soft, dark, a sound that sent shivers through her. "Good girl," he murmured. He stepped closer, his cock brushing against her ass, thick and hard.
"Mhh… please…" The contact made her moan, her body arching back toward him, seeking more.
But he didn't give it to her. Not yet.
Instead, he grabbed the rope binding her wrists, pulling it to arch her back further. The position forced her ass higher, her legs spreading wider, her body entirely at his mercy. She felt the tip of his cock press against her entrance, but he held still, letting the anticipation build until it was unbearable.
"Ahh… nnh…" Her moan was half-sob, half-plea, her body trembling as she fought to obey.
The wood creaked under her, her nipples scraping against the rough surface, sending shocks of pleasure-pain through her.
"Beg again," he commanded, his voice a low growl.
"Mhh! Please… fuck me, Master… ahh… I need you!" Her moans were frantic, her body trembling with the effort to please him.
Tears pricked her eyes, her face flushed with shame and heat, but she couldn't stop. The words, the moans, the submission—they poured out of her, unstoppable.
He didn't make her wait any longer.
With one single, brutal thrust, Julian pushed into her, filling her completely.
"Ahh… nnh!"
Eliz cried out, her body shuddering as he stretched her, the sensation overwhelming her senses. Her bound hands clenched, the tightness of the rope now bruising as she fought to anchor herself against the intensity.
Julian didn't rush. His thrusts were slow and controlled, each one a reminder of his power. He leaned over her, one hand gripping the rope, the other sliding to her throat, his fingers curling just beneath the collar.
"You're mine," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear. "Every inch of you."
"Mhh… I'm yours… ahh… Master…" Eliz moaned, her body rocking with each thrust.
The pleasure was consuming, mingling with the sting of the rope and the pressure of his hand on her throat. She was drowning in it—his cock, his control, the humiliating truth of her own desire.
Her hips pushed back against him, meeting his rhythm, her moans growing louder, more desperate.
"Quiet," he snapped, his hand tightening briefly on her throat. "You take what I give you."
She bit her lip, stifling her cries, but her body betrayed her, clenching around him with every thrust. Julian's pace quickened, his cock driving deeper, harder, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His grip on the rope tightened, pulling her back to meet him; each thrust was a claim, a punishment, and a reward.
Eliz's vision blurred, tears spilling down her cheeks as the pleasure built, unbearable and all-consuming. She wanted to beg for release, to scream his name, but his command held her silent, her body trembling on the edge of climax.
Julian leaned closer. "You don't come until I say," he growled, his voice rough with his own arousal. "Understood?"
"Nnh… yes… Master…" she whispered, her voice shaking with restraint.
He fucked her harder now, relentless, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside her. The rope burned her wrists, the collar pressed against her throat, and still she pushed back, desperate to please him, to be his.
Her body was no longer her own—it was his to use, to break, to claim.
And Julian took it all, his thrusts growing erratic, his breath ragged. He was close—she could feel it in the way his grip tightened, the way his cock throbbed inside her. But he didn't let go, didn't give her the mercy of release.
Not yet.
With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep, his cock pulsing as he came inside her. Eliz whimpered, her body trembling with the need for her own release, but she didn't dare move, didn't dare beg.
Julian pulled out slowly, leaving her empty and aching. He stepped back, his hand still resting on the rope, keeping her bound and bent over the desk. Her body shook, her thighs slick with her arousal and his release.
"Do you want to come?" he asked, a wicked smirk on his face.
"Yes, Master," Eliz whispered. "I need to come… please… I need it…"
Julian's smirk deepened. "Beg properly," he said, his hand sliding down to her ass, squeezing hard enough to bruise. "Make me believe you."
"Mhh… please, Master!" Her words were a desperate cry, her body arching to feel him again. "I need to come… ahh… I'll do anything… please, let me…"
He watched her for a long moment, savoring her desperation. Then, without a word, he reached between her legs, his fingers brushing her swollen clit.
"Ohh…!" Eliz cried out, her body jolting at the sudden contact, the pleasure so intense it was almost pain.
"Not yet," he growled, his fingers pausing, teasing her without mercy. "You come when I say."
"Mhh… nnh… please…" Her hips moved on their own, chasing the release he'd denied her for so long. The rope restricted her movements, making every sensation sharper.
Julian's fingers moved again, circling her clit, slow at first, then faster. His touch then grew relentless, his fingers sliding inside her, curling against that sensitive spot while his thumb worked her clit.
"Mhh… nnh… ohh…" Her moans grew louder, more desperate.
"Now," he said, his voice a command that cut through her haze. "Come for me."
Eliz shattered.
"Ahh…! Mhh!" Her cry was basically a scream, her body shuddering as the orgasm swallowed her whole.
Waves of pleasure crashed over her, her thighs trembling, her hands clenching further. The rope burned her skin, the collar tightened with her squirming, but she didn't care.
All she could feel was the release, the fire consuming her.
Julian didn't stop, his fingers working her through every shudder, drawing out her climax until she was sobbing.
"Mhh… please…" Her body sagged against the desk, completely spent.
He withdrew his hand slowly, leaving her empty, her body still trembling with aftershocks. He tugged the rope around her hands, loosening it slightly.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice deceptively tender. He stepped back, his eyes roaming over her—broken, glistening.
Eliz's head rested against the desk, her moans now soft, exhausted breaths. Her body was heavy, her mind fractured, but a strange peace settled over her.
She had given him everything—her pride, her shame, her release—and he had taken it all.