Ariana Grande's Only Sex Tape {darkest_fate&Joshua Sankt Johannes}

Manuel could feel her almost seem to suck him in when he penetrated her with his finger. He wasn't sure what sort of dance moves the starlet had been practising, but her core suppleness was impressive: she was no more a meek, passive receptacle, but an active participant in the sensation whirling between them. The confidence with which she responded to his command suggested more than simple submissiveness: she was really becoming the sexual creature that a young woman who'd matured to find herself with a body like this truly deserved to be. And yet still, a pouty little “yes Daddy” here and a sexy twirl of her hair there didn't truly convince.

And so, as he felt her arch and tense, her back pushing away from him, her thighs locking around his hand, he committed a crueller outrage than the slaps and shoves he had inflicted on her before, the throat-fucking and anal stuffing he'd allowed his friend to practise on her: worst of all, right now, he simply stopped. His finger forced its way out of her, his hips nudged her off the mountainous summit of his lap bulge, and his hand snatched up hers, dragging it from that teenage breast with a vice-like grip on her slender wrist. The stimulation ceased, and her even denied the satisfaction of pleasuring herself: it was the kind of thing that rivalled even tormenting her with ice cubes.

“Not yet, little one,” he warned, his eyes glinting with menace as he smirked at her pathetic situation. “Only when Daddy's ready. First, you have to really prove you're a good girl. Are you, kitty? Are you a good girl? Whatever I say, you will do. Whatever I choose, you will wear. If I want you to break up with your boyfriend, you will; to meet me in a hotel, or a house, or anywhere, you will show up. You belong to me. I own you. Do you agree? Because if you have any doubts about what this is – we can end this, and you can leave, and you can never get to feel my hands on you again.”

The list of demands was almost impossible to keep up with, but the core message was clear: only ultimate submission would bring the sweet reward of satisfaction, and the submission had to come first.

So close, the tension mounting, spiraling unbearably high. Ariana could feel herself tumbling over that sweet edge again, the thrill of it beginning to edge through her. Her body arched, tensed, readied itself to orgasm stronger then she had in a week now, ready for that sweet, sweet release...

.... only to find herself off the lap. Ariana gasped at the sudden release of sensation, a desperate "No!" flying from her lips. Her hand didn't even have a chance to continue its own work. For his hands, now cruel, snatched away the pleasure. Ariana's body hummed for it, the tension rebounding into a pain that easily rivaled what had been done to her. Tears formed in her eyes almost immediately as she whimpered. So close, and yet she couldn't move, couldn't twist. Her hips rolled with desperation, seeking any kind of contact.

Words...words... Ariana turned her head to look back at him, her big watery eyes turned upon him. A list of demands shot at her like bullets, one slamming after the other. Prove she's a good girl... whatever he said, do, whatever he picked out, wear, wherever he wanted, go, she... belonged to him. The words had a sort of hefty finality to them, ringing in Ariana's ears. Some part of her felt like she shouldn't, couldn't say yes to that. But if she didn't: she wouldn't feel his touch again.

"Pleeeeease," she begged, half-sobbing, "please, Daddy, I'll do anything," the word tore out of her in a wrenched sob, sounding painful, "just please don't stop touching me. Please! It huuuurrts,' she thrashed then, almost looking like a little girl throwing a tantrum. She couldn't help it though, that intense pleasure had rebounded into near sexual torture, the sheer agony of stopped release giving her a whole new level of pain. Just as everything had burned with lust it now simply burned. Her nipples felt as though inflated by hot air, her sex practically vibrated, her ass clenching and moving, every inch of her pained with sheer undiluted want.

She was so fucking cute it was almost impossible to watch her enduring the sheer torment of frustration, her tantrum spilling tears on those adorable cheeks, her body seeming to shake with unfulfilled desire. She was so emotionally vulnerable that she was spilling words giving up ownership of her body, her soul, without a second thought. She was giving him everything. And Manuel wanted to take everything from her. To own her so completely that he could extract every last ounce of humiliation and shame, of joy and pleasure, of confusion and uncertainty, and replace every drop of it with inches of his thick, pumping cock. And all that just because the little tease had wanted to make a sweet, sexy video for her boyfriend. It was punishment on a galactic scale.

Not that he voiced any of that: all he needed to say was two simple words, “Good girl.”

Even those barely mattered: it was not words that the sobbing teen craved, he knew. Instead, it was touch, which came flooding back as a reward for her obedience. Two fingers locked together and slid into her, immediately beginning a vigorous piston to restore the previous level of arousal, while his thumb curled around, underneath, probing at an even tighter source of pleasure. His other hand released hers, permitted it to return to her body, which his did in turn, grasping that supple teenage breast so tight it was like he was trying to devour it whole.

Tease-and-denial worked differently depending on the subject: she might resummit that mountain of pleasure, or she might sink back to a valley of despair. He couldn't predict which. All he could predict was that the lesson – that she was now totally, completely, and absolutely his – would not soon be forgotten.

Good girl: somehow those words had never sounded so wrong in Ariana's ears. she moaned and shuddered as they entered her mind, settling in and informing her. Good girls did not beg to be fucked, they did not show up at hotels and willingly dress like sluts; they did not tease men on their way up; they did not let men caress them in corridors; they certainly did not squirm onto the laps of large-cocked men old enough to be their fathers; and they most definitely did not hand over their lives with a pathetic little whine.

Ariana didn't care: she wanted what she wanted and she'd do what it took. Fingers reentered her, affirming her belief. she felt two of them pushing into her tight sex, spearing into her. Her sex felt molten, her pussy-lava stirred by the jutting fingers, the lewd wet sound of the flesh sounding obscene even by Ariana's revamped standards. Another finger had come around, pushing against her rewired ass, making her scream and kicking. More hands.... grabbed her breast, dragged a nipple against the fabric. Hands released hers: she again mauled her own breast, even bringing her trapped one around to skim her abdomen just above her sex, dragging her nails across her own flesh.

"Don't stop," she pleaded, her voice choked. More tears flowed as the pain continued, seeming to actually crest. "Please don't stop, please. Don't stop. Don't stop," the two words became a chant for her while she rolled herself, waiting for the tension to unwind. Instead she felt it slowly building, the pleasure seeping into the pain, working both sensations at once and threatening to give her another powerful orgasm at those thrusting fingers. The girl whimpered as she kept chanting pathetically, not caring about anything except her own satisfaction.

“Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop.” On and on she went, her chant seeming to blur all the syllables into one single moan. He waited until the very last moment this time, the point where she seemed to have reached an unshakeable crescendo, the point at which her entire body felt like it was humming in his hands like a taut guitar string vibrating at a perfect pitch, until he was sure she had not just one foot over the edge but had readied herself entirely for the leap – before stopping. A hand on her thighs to pin her down and stop her squirming herself to satisfaction, a hand snatching up hers and cruelly denying her breast the attention it craved, the full force of his muscular body seizing her up in a bundle, snatching away the promise of relief once more.

He'd already extracted every possible promise from her, but he still wanted to demonstrate the true extent of his power over her, as well as the full extent of her degradation at his hands. It was a very painful lesson to be teaching, but fortunately he had no hesitation in using his position to do just that: if she learned fast, she wouldn't need so much coaching later on. He wanted a pliant, submissive kitten as a plaything, a toy to amuse him, a servant to his cock. He wanted to turn Ariana into all of these things. And so the simplest thing, like refusing to touch her until she caved, became an expression of his desire for her. Had she not been a cock-junkie suffering a withdrawal episode to rival that of a crack addict bottoming out, she might even have appreciated it as a compliment. But he didn't think it was very likely that she would thank for him that compliment just at this moment.

And so, he simply smirked, and whispered, “I'll stop if I want to, little one. Remember: what Daddy wants, Daddy gets.”

Pain twisted around pleasure, wrapping around it, making it red hot and totally unbearable. Ariana already felt the scream begin to build within her, seeming to bubble up from deep inside. She'd never, ever wanted release this much in her entire young life and having that denied to her frustrated her not only on a bodily level but on an emotional one as well. She wanted this, that want twisting into a need. Everything ached, everything burned.

"Oh, oh, Oh, I'm----" the always noisy girl began, arching forward. She felt the crescendo rising, carrying her with it, her body arching, the scream just ready to tear out of her aching form when...

when he pulled away. Not just pulled away, but slapping her down. One hand pinned her squirming lower half cruelly, the other jerked her arms up and away, actually pulling the other from being trapped between. Manuel pinned Ariana and she screamed a raw, throaty scream as all the pleasure rebounded into the pain again, wracking her body. It rebounded wave on wave, turning every sexual area of hers into a pinpoint of pain that broke all her previous understandings of such things. The sheer want burned her, lit her nerves on fire.

The girl began sobbing, the wretched noises shaking her. "Pleeeeeease!" she whined, kicking as best she could. "Please, oh God, Daddy it hurts, it hurts too much," she pinned her eyes shut, arching her back, twisting hard enough within him to nearly hurt herself, her hips shifting desperately. She let out a frustrated groan, her body trembling. She forced her eyes open, the watery lens turning to look at him. "Please Daddy, please let me cum, let me cum, please!" she rasped, jerking, trying to see if she couldn't tease him somehow to do what it takes. "It hurrrrrts," she whined, sobbing and rolling her head back, her body trembling as another wave of pain/pleasure hit her. "Daddy it hurts so much, oh God, it hurts. Daddy, please, I'll do whatever you say, I prooooomise just make it stoooop," she didn't care how pathetic she sounded, even as her own words humiliated her just as much as anything he'd said or done, making her sob all the more. Ariana could feel herself breaking and she still only cared about one thing.

The control he had over the spluttering young woman was as intoxicating as anything purely sexual. Every inch of her body appeared to be aflame with need for him: not only could his touch drive her wild, but the absence of it could reduce her to ruin. It was incredibly empowering: in particular, his cock was now racing with blood, straining his pants as it fully thickened in response to the display. He could feel the command his body held over her. He could feel the power in the room. His head practically spun, and he felt ten feet tall. He held onto her firmly, his fingers digging into her soft skin, only relenting when he saw the tears really start to flood, saw her start to completely lose herself to the storm of her needy tantrum.

When he plunged back this time, he was more vigorous. No more teasing and tormenting: just two fingers straight inside her sex, so achingly wet they could barely gain purchase against the slick interior, sawing at a furious pace, his hand slapping against her mound so loud he could hear even above the despairing wails coming from the starlet's streaming face. His hand was almost tearing at her breast, thumb flicking back and forth across the nipple at a blur, fingers twisting against the supple flesh, the sweet give of that firm mound so precious to behold.

And, perhaps most notably, this time he thrust himself hard against her, so hard he was practically bouncing her aloft, grinding his horrifically oversized bulge against her tight ass, pounding through the fabric of his pants against the bare flesh under her skirt, his body completely encasing her in a bear hug of domination. His voice was nothing human, but a bear-like growl, a snarl of desire, of power, of triumph. His mouth suckling at her neck tasted her sweet skin. But what he could really taste was victory: he owned her now. He owned her.

Again the hands returned, this time more fiercely then ever. Ariana screamed with strained joy as the hands plowed into her sex, her powerful voice momentarily overwhelming even the harsh, wet sounds of his hand slamming into her sex. She swore that juices flowed so freely that they splattered out of her sex, the sheer desire that caused such excruciating pain/pleasure forcing Ariana to literally begin to leak. The hands, oh the hands, her sex twisting and contorting and jerking.

Still pain, so much pain: it did not ebb. it only increased again, dominating the pleasure and making it its toy as Ariana was Manuel's. The pain seeped throughout, tearing through nerves and forcing more sobs. But Manuel's skilled ears would no doubt pick up the changes in those sobs, how they now seemed strangely wracked with arousal.

A thrust, a thrust on her aching ass. Ariana practically slammed her ass against it, and she swore that even with the cloth, his cock still pushed against the puckered hole of her tiny ass. She purposefully ground that part of her against him, desperate to feel the cock and to fell him. his arms pulled her so tight that she felt every inch of him just as much as she felt all the pain.

"I'm, I'm, I'm," she repeated, swallowing hard, the tears still coming, "it's, it',s Daddy, I'm going to... please let me this time. Pleeeeeeeease let me cum, oh, Daddy, please! I'll die if i don't cum, pleeeeease!" she arched, bouncing with each whine, feeling the tension coiling tight. Her body already braced for the pain, seemingly expecting more denial, for Manuel to assert his control once more, though it would be hard to say if there would not be permanent consequences for the poor thing, if there weren't already...

This time, Manuel could feel her bracing for the inevitable pull-back, could feel the tension in the narrow shoulders squeezing against his chest, could feel that she was preparing herself for disappointment. So instead, he doubled his efforts: the sexual torture had made for an interesting piece of theatre, but he felt he could confuse her even more now if he actually forced her over that brink that must have seemed increasingly beyond her. And so, in his diabolical scheme to assert his dominance over the sobbing starlet, he actually lifted into the air, staggering to his feet, with the force of his assault on her faltering body.

Fingers roughly sawed at her pussy, his hand almost slapping against her clit with the force of his bucking. He could feel the wetness sopping down him to the knuckle, using it as lubrication to ensure a full hilting of his dexterous digits inside her snug hole. His other hand clutched her breast tight, supporting her petite frame with its mauling handhold, but equally feeling out every inch of that tender teenage mound, his thumb ringing her nipple in the tightest of spirals. Yet for all his tenuous grip on her, he bucked his hips with the ferocity of a rutting bull, almost like he was trying to burst out of his pants as his swollen bulge battered insistently at her ass like a ramrod trying to smash down a city wall.

His need to send her into crashing, head-fucking delirium was insane, almost rage-driven. He had warned her before that she would only be allowed to cum if “Daddy wanted it”. There was no longer any doubt just what he wanted.

Hands blurred against Ariana, suddenly plowing into her. The girl could not believe it, could not believe that they'd finally reached the summit. Her head lolled back as she felt all that tension, so much painful tension, suddenly spring free all at once, flooding her with one glorious, mind-boggling burst.

Ariana's body exploded. The sex burst and massaged, dangerously close to actually squirting her juices. The panties became soaked in a matter of mere seconds, while her sex continued to suck on the fingers as if they would never be satisfied, using them to enhance the super-orgasm that tore through everywhere. It reverberated all the way down to the girl's womb, practically jiggling her eggs free and tricking her body into fertility. The entire path convulsed, the newly trained muscles squeezing tightly, refusing to let the digits leave her frame.

The nipples, the inflamed, pained nipples, surged so hard and so tight that Ariana swore she could lean over and cut glass with them. They continued to feel spiraling circles of pure, painful ecstasy worked upon them, the continued drag of fabric and flesh reigniting the flame and further fueling the blaze that consumed Ariana whole.

A cock thrust against a quaking ass, bucking, jamming into her, the cloth seeming to stretch. Ariana actually felt her panties going inside her body, tugged there by a ram. The pressure dragged the front of the cloth tight, the pain only mixing.

The other pain, that pleasure pain, the sheer tension pain, had left all at once, replaced with mind-numbing pleasure. Ariana jerked as she so often did, flailing for a few seconds, but more quickly then ever her body melted. her limbs gave out, her flesh impaling itself upon anything available. Ariana's body simply refused to act upon its own will, to do anything save for fall back onto Manuel, even as the orgasm continued to jerk Ariana in small, tender little jerks.

and she continued to let out soft moans and groaned with each twitch, her eyes rolling in the sheer pleasure of sweet, sweet release.

Manuel held her tight until the convulsions had ceased shaking through her practically limp body. Fully standing now, he walked her over towards the bed and laid her down, his coming down on top of her as he turned her to face him. Pressing himself down against her, his hand continued to stroke, more softly, her damp, twisted ruined panties, while he smothered her face in eager kisses. Her lips, her cheeks, her neck, all received the attentions of his mouth, as he simply helped himself to a delightful feast of the moaning young woman he'd reduced to jelly.

His cock, by now, simply demanded release. A hurried tug removed his pants, and he kicked them to one side; his shirt came off in a single, easy sweep. But he was barely away from her: almost instantly he was back, now naked, now sporting an insanely large, angry staff between his legs, but just as attentive, just as insistent, pestering her with kisses and touches. His mouth sought out new ground, tugging at her top until he could gain access to one pert breast, descending to slurp at the teased skin, his tongue able to discern a still hard nipple through the thin white lace of the half-cup bra. His fingers hooked her panties and tugged them clear of her clammy skin, dragging them down her thighs – the tiny “ffft” as they left the embrace of her sex was as sweet a sound as he had heard – to let the cool air play on her by now maddened folds.

He lay on top of her like, his body weight sinking her to the bed, until she was able to recover her breathing, her senses, her mind.

Until she was able to remember all she had said and promised in the heat of the moment.

It didn't stop: the attentions just kept going and going. Ariana had fallen limp into Manuel's arms, not fighting or squirming or doing anything as he carried her to the bed. She sprawled there, her hair and limbs splaying out like some sort of broken doll. Her body moved sluggishly as he teased her once more, pressing against her sex, teasing the soaked panties. More kisses, all over, her lips moving like a breathing fish. Weight pressed her down, swallowing her, taking her, and Ariana felt too dazed to even think about it, let alone say or do anything.

Clothing fell, and Ariana felt something press against her for a moment, bobbing. His cock, his glorious, huge cock with its rounded dome, must have bounded free. Ariana found that she wanted that within her, even now, as her body unwound itself, the pain just starting to ebb away and leave a relaxation and want that only post-orgasmic bliss could truly bring. And yet he kept going, teasing her breast, even now pulling the top, dislodging it just enough for one bra covered breast to bound free. Ariana gasped, actually arching her back the shove the breast into the mouth.

Fingers hooked on panties: they peeled away from her skin, causing Ariana to coo, her head lolling to a side. Cool air kissed her skin, the binding belt of skirt seeming to only emphasize. Her sex looked swollen: puffed and eager for attention, the wetness glistening upon it like a ripe peach. Even now those lips seemed to twitch as if begging for attention.

Ariana's mind took its time dispelling the fog, letting a softly moaned "So good" leave her at several points. She remembered saying something, promising... something. What had she promised? What had she said? She looked around, trying to remember, to recall. Her eyes focused on Manuel, they blinked as awareness came in. She'd... she'd promised to do anything he said, to give herself to him...

the thought utterly terrified Ariana to her very core...
the thought utterly aroused Ariana to her very core...

Climbing on top of her, Manuel guided his cock between her tired thighs, nosing his thick head into place against her staggeringly wet opening: already, he knew there would be need for lubricant. With her panties tugged down her legs couldn't open far, but he had enough room to manoeuvre himself in, bringing his muscular frame up onto the bed, his face rising from her breast to loom over hers. It was not so far from a very conventional missionary position, and when he kissed her, even that was soft and tender rather than fuckish and profane. They might have been two sweet lovers fumbling their way through their first tentative encounters: except these were not two sweet lovers, but a 38 year old porn star and an 18 year old starlet whom he had already throat-fucked, sodomised, and collared.

He pushed slowly inside her, allowing her to adjust to his size once more. Despite the previous weekend's torrid activities, she seemed almost virginally tight, and for his sheer size, that meant an immensely snug fit. It was slow, so slow; yet he was so alive with the pleasure of having this pliable sex kitten in his power that he felt he could take all the time in the world and still explode with sensation. The pace also served as a kind of soothing comfort, an amends for his earlier torture of her. Yet in the confidence of his wordless penetration, was also a reassertion of his dominance. He was taking her now, because he wanted to. Because she was his to take.

Ariana's lips moved against her lover's, feeling them pushing along hers. Her lips already ached, hurt from the intense kissing. In fact, everything already hurt, though most of the pain had seeped away with that powerful orgasm. The girl was well aware of how humiliating her current position happened to be: thrown on the bed, her hair and clothing askew, her panties keeping her thighs close together, a collar adorning her bobbing throat, not to mention the kinky clothing itself.

The man pushed, and Ariana groaned as she felt the familiar cock pushing aside her tight folds. The sex knew the cock well, having already taken it, but the snugness had been returned. A week without penetration had almost restored Ariana to her virginal state, and her tight dancer's build had never allowed for too much room. The interior walls clung tight, sliding over the cock like a well-made velvet glove. Ariana again forced her interior muscles to clench, wanting to show off even in her ached, half-delirious state. Her muscles clenched and released, giving the cock a little welcoming hug. She squirmed again, but tiredly, and let out something that almost sounded like a soft mew as opposed to any words.

She was his to take.

Manuel continued for a few steady strokes, his cock slowly prying apart her delicate inner folds. A kind of muscle memory seemed to be taking over: even though she felt virgin-tight to him, this time he could feel working him, her abdomen contracting, her velvety suction pulling and gripping. It was an intense feeling, and he revelled in every thick inch he was able to introduce to this heavenly touch. The only practical concern was the slight annoyance of her panties, against which he increasingly found himself tangling. He came to a frustrated pause, pulling out of her, his cock slapping against her thighs as he rose to his haunches.

Grabbing her legs behind the knees, he lift them in the air. He did not remove her stockings, nor even her heels; but he did reach down and tug up her panties, pulling the damp bundle of white lace up her legs until he could hook them over her feet. The fistful of ruined cloth was a reminder of the sheer thrill he was able to inspire in her. It only felt appropriate to return that reminder to her. Dropping her legs, he swung himself back to straddle her again, arrogantly grabbing his cock and shoving it back without a word of thought, simply taking her as he pleased like his own personal toy. He then crouched back over her, bringing his hand to her mouth.

“Look what you did to the panties Daddy bought you. Messy little one!” he chided, pressing the cotton bundle to her mouth. His thumb pushed down, shoving the damp, pussy juice soaked material past her lips. To stifle any protest, he squeezed his hips down, thrusting himself deep into her now that his passage between her thighs was unhindered, his knees splaying hers wide apart, a hand on her hip guiding her into position just so. Another long, smooth, deep thrust, so intimate and soft; another shove until her mouth was stuffed with her own underwear.

That part was a bit less intimate and soft.

The tight ab muscles contracted in a beautiful dance as Ariana squeezed the cock, milking it for all it was worth. She could once again feel every inch of it nestled snugly within her aching body. Her warmth and wet spread throughout it, thoroughly coating the shaft so that each slide simply glided along her body, the head pressing deep. The snug fit only meant increased pressure, increased pleasure... at least for the most part. Some of Ariana's aching muscles came into play.

Then a stop, a pull back, the sex gripping him. Ariana swore she heard a wet smacking sound as the cock left her, and she let out a slight moan as she felt it come free. Her sex pulsed for a moment, and the girl looked up, confusion flittering across her pretty features. Her legs went up, again unresisting. Hands tugged the panties, and she felt them dragging across her skin. She let out a coo as he dropped her back down. soon her sex felt full once more, and she gently arched against him, her body once more pleased with the feeling.

A hand returned. Ariana's head lolled, her glazed eyes looking up at him. A mess? then the panties pressed against those pretty lips. Ariana let out a half-hearted squeal as she felt the dirty cloth press along her. It pushed the damp material in, and immediately Ariana tasted herself. It tasted pungent, tangy, somewhat sweet with a lot of tart sensation...

it tasted good.

Ariana burned with a deep shame as she came to the realization that she enjoyed her own taste. She fervently hoped that Manuel didn't catch on: something told her he'd use that against her, though she hadn't the faintest idea how. Not that she could think much more, as he began sliding his cock into her sex again. She focused on giving the new cock a tight squeeze, only belatedly realizing that it would look as though she was most pleased with having her mouth filled with her own underwear.

Manuel grinned. He could hardly judge the poor girl for her reaction: after all, he liked the taste of her, savoured every scent of her nubile form. But there was still an undeniable humiliation to having her panties soaked through with her own cum, stuffed into her mouth – and getting that doped-out look in her eyes that he know recognised well as a sign of excitement in the cock-crazed starlet. His thrusts intensified in response, his hands pinning down her hips for grip as he thrust himself steadily, firmly, inside her sucking maw, feeling every inch of his pulsating cock squeezed like it was being lathered with a thousand tiny fleshy kisses.

His hands slid up her bare sides. She really did have a fantastic figure, shapely hips curving to a narrow waist and flat stomach, up to those perfectly formed breasts. Trailing fingers across the flat of her tummy he once more alighted on her navel, thumbing it lightly. He was definitely going to get her to get a piercing there, he decided; he'd ring and make an appointment for the next day. It might be time to get her tattooed, too, though there was an enticing bareness to her smooth, tan skin. Up his hands went, feeling out her ribs against her slender chest, alighting on her top. He gave the hem a tug, but it was a difficult angle for him, so he instructed her simply, “Take it off, little one.”

The thrusts became harder. Ariana felt the dick plowing into her sopping sex, gliding more and more fiercely. The sheer friction of it amped up the heat in her loins to dangerous levels within seconds. That heat seeped into the rest of her, coiling about her core, threatening to spring up that tension again almost immediately. The poor girl's sex already felt tender, ready to go, and the cock continued to pulse inside her, seeming to actually grow with each passing second. Ariana squeezed hard, her muscles contorting fast upon him, rippling about for a moment as they released, seeming to create and almost wave effect along the shaft.

The sex danced again as the hands traveled up her body. Ariana's hips rolled, her energy begin to return, as if fucked back into her. She felt those fingers go all along her, sliding over her aching, burning flesh, lighting little fires as they went. They finally moved to the top, tugging a bit.

It was only when Manuel told her to move that Ariana realized that for once, her hands had not been pinned down. She moved them back, pushing herself slightly off the bed, the new position forcing her to curl, her sex to tighten a little more about the cock. One hand went to the hem and she pulled. The fabric caught for a moment, its sung fit making it difficult. It popped over her breasts, taking the bra with it, and Ariana paused, looking up at him, wondering if he wanted her to fully remove it or just get it up enough to bare the two breasts.

Each looked nearly perfectly: rounded little orbs the same sunkissed bronze as the rest of Ariana. They did not swell overmuch, but rose sweetly out of her form, adding to the lithe, dancer-build that she seemed to possess. Their shape looked almost perfect though, and each had been capped by a dusky nipple of a slightly darker hue, both of which stood at rigid attention, pointing straight at the man who excited their owner so.

Ariana was lucky that Manuel was caught up in his deep, sensual strokes, building a pleasing rhythm. He didn't want to disrupt that, to break off the good vibrations that had his cock practically throbbing with anticipation at unloading a wombful of thick baby-batter into the dumb little starlet's tight slit, by having to engage in some lengthy, forceful display of punishment. Otherwise, though, she would certainly have received due correction for her mistake in hesitating. He had told her, quite clearly, to take it off; yet once the material was hooked clear of her breasts she simply stopped again. Rather than haul her over his knee or drag her off in search of a tool to serve as a means of coercing compliance, he therefore continued screwing deeper and deeper into her, spreading her starfish-like on the bed, and exacted his force through subtler means.

A hand moved to one of those wonderfully proud breasts, circling the dark nipple for a moment, before squeezing it. Hard. His face darkening, he loomed close over her, keeping up the insistent pressure on the sensitive nub even as his meaty cock burrowed into her with a ready ease, opening up that slick passageway of delight with every vigorous jolt of his hips. “I said, take it off,” he hissed. “Dumb little whore. I thought you were a good girl. Are you just a dumb little whore?” The pinch grew tighter, and now he started to twist, aggravating the nipple further. Take the top off, his touch was screaming, take it off now and this can end. Worse, his cock was flaring thicker and harder than ever. It was almost like he was getting off on this show of power, this punishment, this harshness. And if he liked it now, that didn't speak well for what the rest of the weekend would hold.

The frenzied thrusts drove Ariana deeper and deeper into the bed, causing her breath to come in shorter and shorter gasps. Her legs splayed wide, giving as much room to the rampaging cock as possible. This did not alleviate the pressure her sex exerted upon him, as she continued to flex and pull and internally massage the great meatstick within her little sex.

But she'd paused above, and that seemed to draw a punishment. However, the reaction would not, perhaps, be what Manuel anticipated. For a hand went up to grip a nipple, squeezing it hard, and Ariana gasped. She thrust her chest out to him, squeezed her sex for joy. She hear the hissed words, the question, and then felt her nipple twist. The pain flooded within her, but it came with an immense pleasure, burning her nipple as it went and seeping more heat into her melting loins.

Somewhere along the line, Ariana had developed a slight masochistic streak.

"Daddy," she groaned, gripping the bed into two great fistfuls of sheet. Or... tried to groan, the words dimmed by the panties. She realized that she couldn't say much more, not with her words, but her eyes said it all: I'm a dumb little whore... a dumb little whore who deserves to be punished...because that pain added a new spice, and he'd warped her till she felt joy from it, till she practically trembled at the thought of more fire, more agony, more of that pain riddled lust.

It was like a savage wrestling match – only all the time, he was pinning her to the bed not with some elaborate leglock, but with the sheer force of his pumping cock, slamming his little pain-slut's hips into the bed as he rode her with abandon. He could see the haunting need in her eyes. The development was hardly surprising, but it was still a delight to watch it unfold right there in the flesh. Another layer of dignity peeled away, another degradation piled on. Manuel had addicted her to his touch, turned her into a submissive cock-junkie. So even when that touch turned harsh, his finger and thumb pinching her nipple so sharply he could feel it throb, even when he threatened worse, she seemed to crave more. She just looked so dumb, panties wadded in her mouth, eyes so big and pitiful, petite body squirming not away from the pain, but into it, embracing it – that he had to laugh. He laughed at her, right in her face, laughing at how pathetic she was. To laugh at the dumb little whore.

The panties were a distraction now. He yanked them from her mouth and threw them aside, then set to work on ripping her top off for her, seeing as she now seemed incapable of doing so, pulling her arms from the sheets so he could muscle the tight bundle of clothing off her, over her head. Then came the roll, gripping her hair hard, not caring if he yanked at the long tresses, rolling her onto her front, pinning her arms back. He grabbed the discarded top and wrapped it around, using it as an impromptu tie to bind her wrists. Too tight? He didn't care: she probably enjoyed that too. He was slamming into her now, bending her backwards, yanking her shoulders back so her breasts pulled clear of the sheets and he could once more maul those poor nipples, tweaking and pinching and grabbing.

Aiming a slap directly across her breast, the crest of his fingers striking her nipple dead on, he yanked her hair back so he could lean in and snarl at her ear, “Dumb little whore, huh? That's all you are, dumb little fucking whore.” His words were barely audible, so loud was the slapping of his hips against her pert ass as he forced his full length inside her with huge, powerful thrusts that lifted her from the bed, the whole mattress tilting at the roughness of it, the force of it. He thought he might snap his little kitty in half. Yet it didn't even occur to him to stop.

The laugh nearly made Ariana want to cry. Why was he laughing? Her sex kept squeezing his cock, her hips kept working him, and her breasts had now been bared to the air. Was it because she hadn't fully followed his command? There had been a harshness to that laugh... but surely that wasn't it... was it? The poor confused girl found that her confusion only deepened as Manuel began manhandling her. The top went off, pulling at her arms and hair as it went, grabbing a few loose strands and yanking them. Pain on her sexual organs felt exquisite, but pain in general bothered the girl, making her eyes water.

Then a roll, Ariana feeling her body twist upon the cock. She let out a groan at the new sensation, her walls spinning about, gripping at his cock all the while. Then she found her breasts pressed against the sheets, a few thrusts dragging her aching nipples across the fabric. Then the top came back, pinning her hands behind her. She felt the tight constriction and let out another moan. Then a pull, a bend, and Ariana let out a little cry of delight as she bent backward.

The girl proved flexible again, not seeming to strain overmuch from being bent nearly into a backward "C" shape. Her sex squeezed all the tighter for the new position, aided by posture. Her ass helped as well, tensing her lower muscles and wanting to massage the cock that continued to rampage her. Soon a slap landed on the bared breasts, making Ariana gasp. Some part of her realized that she should complain about the pain, else he might discover that some part of her liked it. Hands wrapped hair and she let out a gasp, feeling her head yanked back. The words could barely be heard over her forced sounds, over the sound of their frenzied coupling on the bed.

"Yes!" she practically shrieked, her hands working against their bindings, fingers stretching. "Yes, I'm your dumb little whore, Daddy, oooh," she shuddered, feeling the shame seeping into her. She felt good, the pounding felt good, the pain felt good, everything just felt so good. She shuddered, then bit her lip and let out a whimper, part in joy, part in trying to continue to convince Manuel that she didn't like the pain, part just not caring any more what happened so long as she continued to burn with that joyous lust.