Sarah's savage rhythm hit a wall. Her frenzied downward thrusts faltered mid-slam. A choked gasp tore from her throat, raw and desperate. Her powerful thighs, locked like vices around his hips, suddenly trembled violently. The driving force behind her punishing ride sputtered, died.
"Fuck," she gasped, the word ragged, laced with panic. Her hands, still pinning his wrists, lost their iron grip, fingers spasming. "I… I can't—"
Her entire body convulsed. Not the rhythmic clenching of orgasm, but a full-body seizure of utter muscular failure. Her spine arched impossibly, then collapsed inward. She pitched forward, her strength evaporating like water on hot pavement. Her forehead slammed hard against his collarbone. Her massive breasts crushed against his chest, slick with sweat. Her knees buckled, the steel bands around his waist dissolving. The only thing holding her up was the thick shaft buried to the hilt inside her.
Mark grunted as her dead weight slammed onto him, driving his cock impossibly deeper. He felt the heavy, blunt pressure against her cervix, the crushing tightness of her passage clamping down with terrifying force. Her abrupt collapse left him pinned beneath her, the air knocked from his lungs.
She wasn't moving. Just trembling. Shaking uncontrollably against him. Her breath came in ragged, wet sobs against his skin. "Ohgod… ohgod…" she whimpered, the sound broken, childlike. Gone was the snarling dominance, the cruel barbs. In its place: pure, animal vulnerability. "Fucking… broke…"
Her pussy reacted. Without the conscious drive of her riding, her overtaxed body took over. Deep, involuntary spasms rippled through her inner walls, a series of powerful, rhythmic clenches that gripped his buried cock like a desperate, wet fist. Each pulse was an agony of tightness, a milking pressure that dragged a low groan from Mark's chest. It felt less like fucking and more like being forcibly milked by her traumatized core.
Her head lolled weakly on his shoulder. "S'ripping me…" she slurred, tears soaking into his skin. "Hurts… so full… can't… stop it…" Another violent tremor shook her. Her cunt seized again, harder this time. A guttural moan escaped her lips, thick with pain and an obscene, helpless pleasure. "Fuck… it's… coming…"
Her warning was breathless, terrified. Then it hit. Not the sharp peak she'd forced earlier, but a slow, devastating tsunami of sensation that rolled through her broken body. Her hips jerked erratically against his, grinding her clit against his pubic bone in frantic, uncoordinated circles. Her back arched in a strained curve, pressing her breasts harder against him. A long, keening wail tore from her throat, raw and primal.
Her inner walls pulsed. Not just clenched. Convulsed. Deep, rolling spasms that swept from her entrance to her deepest core, massaging every inch of his shaft buried within her. The pressure was crushing, relentless. It felt like her cunt was trying to suck him deeper still, to wring him dry through sheer, involuntary muscle contractions.
And she squirted. Not the forceful gush from before, but a hot, pulsing flood that erupted rhythmically with each internal spasm. It soaked his balls and thighs, pooling beneath them on the ruined sheets, warm and slick. The wet sound of it was obscene in the sudden quiet punctuated only by her choked cries. Her body shuddered, wracked by back-to-back orgasms she couldn't control, couldn't stop. Each one forced another gush around his cock, another desperate clench, another broken whimper.
Mark stared down at the crown of her head pressed against him. Her usual fiery confidence was obliterated. She was a quivering, drenched mess, utterly impaled on him, her body betraying her with relentless, involuntary ecstasy. The power he felt was staggering, primal. He hadn't moved. He was just… there. Held deep inside her convulsing heat, feeling her come apart, feeling her squirt uncontrollably because of the sheer, unyielding size of him stretching her beyond her limits. The girl who'd sneered at him for years was reduced to a trembling, sobbing puddle, her cunt milking his cock like it was the only thing anchoring her to reality.
He tentatively shifted his hips. Just a micro-movement, grinding fractionally deeper. Sarah screamed into his shoulder, a sound of pure, shattered sensation. "STOP! FUCK! TOO MUCH!" But her pussy fluttered wildly, greedily, squirting again in response to the tiny movement, gripping him even tighter as if trying to pull him back in. Her nails, weak now, scrabbled weakly against his back. "Please… god… please…" she begged, the word mangled, torn between agony and an unbearable, mindless need for more.
He stilled. He held her. He felt the hot gush ebb slightly, the convulsions lessen to a deep, rhythmic throb around his shaft. Her trembling subsided to exhausted shivers. Her breathing, still ragged, hitched with fading sobs. The room stank of sex, sweat, tears, and the musky tang of her release. Dawn light, pale and grey, began to creep around the edges of his cheap blinds, illuminating the wreckage of his room, their tangled limbs, the wet stain spreading beneath Sarah's hips. The massive cock buried inside her felt like the only solid thing left in the world. He didn't pull out. He didn't push deeper. He just lay there, trapped beneath her limp, shuddering weight, feeling the slow, possessive pulse of her ruined cunt around him, knowing nothing would ever be the same. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, broken only by her shallow, exhausted breaths and the slowing drip of their mingled fluids onto the sheets.
Mark felt the crushing heat of her around him, impossibly tight even in her limp state. Her pussy fluttered weakly, still milking his cock in aftershocks that made her hips twitch against his. He could barely breathe under her slack weight, the air thick with the stink of sex and salt tears. "Sarah," he muttered, his voice rough, unused. She stirred, a low whimper escaping her lips pressed against his damp skin. Her fingers, trembling, crept up his chest, digging weakly into his shoulder. "Don't... go," she slurred, her voice thick and broken, nothing like her usual sharp tone. "Can't... lose it... can't feel empty..." Her head lolled, seeking the crook of his neck, nuzzling like a desperate animal. "So full... fuck... mine..."
The possessive, fragmented plea sent a jolt of raw power through him. He shifted slightly, testing, trying to ease the pressure on his ribs. Her reaction was instantaneous, violent. "NO!" she shrieked, her body snapping taut with sudden panic, her inner walls clamping down like a vice around his buried shaft. Her nails gouged his skin. "Don't pull out! Fucking stay! It hurts... but...!" She gasped, a ragged sob catching in her throat. "Feels like... ripped apart... but... need it... need you stuffed in me... deep..." Her panic morphed into a frantic, almost delirious babbling. "Can't lose that stretch... that fucking weight... oh god, Mark... it's all I feel... all I am right now... keep me full... please... just... be inside me..."
Her plea was raw, stripped bare, drenched in a terrifying need that went beyond lust. It was primal, possessive, clinging. The sheer vulnerability, the raw desperation in her voice, shattered any lingering hesitation in Mark. The girl who'd mocked him, tormented him, was now reduced to begging him to stay impaled inside her ruined pussy. He saw the frantic fear in her tear-streaked face when she pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes wide and unfocused. "Don't leave me empty," she whimpered, her voice cracking. "Please... your cock... it's mine... it's... me now..." Her hips gave a tiny, involuntary grind against his pelvis, seeking friction despite the obvious pain etched on her face, a fresh wave of slickness seeping out around the base of his dick buried inside her.
A surge of dominance, dark and unfamiliar, flooded Mark. He wasn't pulling out. He wasn't letting go. He gripped her hips, not gently, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass where his handprint still flared red. He held her firmly down onto him, forcing his cock impossibly deeper into her spasming, overstretched channel. Sarah screamed, a high-pitched sound of agony mixed with pure, mindless ecstasy. Her back arched sharply, breasts thrust out, nipples hard pebbles against his chest. "YES! FUCK! DEEPER! RIP ME!" she shrieked, her voice breaking, tears streaming anew. Her head thrashed from side to side. "Oh god... oh god... yours... it's all yours... wreck it... own it... just... fuck..." Her words dissolved into incoherent cries as her body seized, convulsing around his invading girth. Her inner muscles locked down in a brutal, milking spasm, pulling at him, demanding he fill the aching void she feared more than the pain. Her cunt pulsed, hot and wet, squeezing him relentlessly, a desperate attempt to fuse them together, to bind him inside her forever, terrified of the emptiness, the detachment that felt like annihilation.
Her cunt pulsed, hot and wet, squeezing him relentlessly, a desperate attempt to fuse them together, to bind him inside her forever, terrified of the emptiness, the detachment that felt like annihilation. Her raw pleas hung thick in the stale air, mingling with the musky stench of sex and sweat. Mark felt her trembling intensity, the absolute terror of separation vibrating through her entire frame pressed against him.
He didn't hesitate. His hands, previously pinned or lying limp, moved. They slid roughly up her slick back, fingers digging into the trembling muscles of her shoulders. He ignored her feeble whimper of protest. With a surge of strength born from years of pent-up frustration and this sudden, intoxicating dominance, he hauled her crushed breasts and tear-streaked face hard against his chest. Her gasp was muffled against his skin.
He pulled her closer.
"Fuck!" Sarah shrieked, the sound strangled as the brutal movement forced his impossibly thick cock even deeper, grinding the swollen head against her battered cervix. Her spine bowed like a drawn bowstring. Her hands flew to his shoulders, nails biting deep, drawing beads of blood, not to push away, but to anchor herself against the overwhelming invasion. "Tearing... ripping me apart! Jesus Christ!"
Her pussy responded violently. It clamped down in a series of brutal, rhythmic spasms, milking his shaft with frantic urgency. Each convulsion forced another gush of her release, hot and slick, flooding the space where their bodies joined, soaking his balls and thighs anew. The obscene wet sounds filled the small room. "Can't... stop... coming!" she sobbed, the words dissolving into ragged, animalistic cries. "Ohgodohgod... feels like... fucking dying... don't stop! DON'T STOP HURTING ME!"
Mark held her crushed against him. He felt her wild, uncontrollable climax tearing through her, shaking her slender frame. He felt the brutal grip of her cunt, the hot flood, the desperate grinding of her hips against his pelvis seeking even the tiniest fraction more of that agonizing fullness. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps against his neck, punctuated by choked whimpers. "Yours... it's yours... wrecked... all wrecked for you... fuck... Mark... please..." Her voice was shattered glass.
He didn't thrust. He simply held her impaled, letting the sheer, unyielding pressure of his cock buried to the root inside her traumatized channel be the instrument of her continued torment and ecstasy. He felt every spasm tear through her core, every fresh pulse of wetness, the way her inner walls fluttered and clenched like a desperate, greedy mouth. Her sweat-slick skin slid against his. Dawn light caught the tears still leaking from her tightly shut eyes, the desperate set of her jaw.
Her climax seemed endless, a slow, grinding earthquake reducing her to primal need. Gradually, the violent convulsions subsided into deep, shuddering tremors, then exhausted little flutters. The crushing grip around his cock lessened fractionally, becoming a hot, wet, possessive weight. Her frantic babbling faded into a low, continuous moan, a sound of profound, shattered satisfaction mixed with lingering pain. Her body went utterly slack against his, a dead weight held only by his arms locked around her and the massive cock still plugging her stretched, dripping hole. Her breathing, though still ragged, deepened slightly. Her fingers uncurled from their death grip on his shoulders, trailing weakly down his blood-streaked back. "So... full..." she breathed, the words thick with exhaustion and awe. "...never... been so... full..."
Mark lay still beneath her, feeling the slow, possessive throb of her ruined pussy around his shaft. He looked down at the crown of her head, her usually perfect hair a dark, tangled mess plastered to her damp forehead and his chest. The girl who'd tormented him, dismissed him, was utterly broken across him, physically conquered, her defiance drowned in her own fluids and the brutal invasion she now craved. He felt the warm slickness pooling beneath them, smelled the raw, intimate stench of their joining. A profound, silent understanding settled in the wreckage of his room, in the wreckage of her composure. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He just held her impaled on him, feeling the faint, possessive pulse deep inside her, the final, trembling aftershocks of her annihilation. The power was no longer hidden. It was thick and hard and buried deep within her. Hers. For now.