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He enjoyed her frustration more than he could say. It was quaint, really. She still believed she had any control? Surely, she knew that the very fire of her life would be quenched if he so wished it? It amused him to no end, though his amusement quickly faded when he did not hear the words he commanded to speak. His movements stopped entirely in favor of the rage that burned in his stomach. The look that crossed face threatened, no, promised suffering. He leaned back far enough to look over her, balancing on his knees as he slipped from inside her. The anger in his eyes continued to intensify as the silence was prolonged. She appeased him just as his hand raised to strike her across the face.
He lowered his hand as she begged for her pleasure. “Ah,” he purred, “your prayers have been heard, my dear,” a feline-esque smile curled his lips upward as he glared down at his lovely little plaything. “I will be merciful and listen.”
Iahotep took a hand and aligned himself with her again, wasting no time sheathing himself inside her. He leaned forward again with a hand resting on either side of her to support himself. His hips rocked back and forth slowly, for only a moment before he started a brutal pace. He wanted her to bruise from the force in which he slammed against her. He wanted her to cry, to moan, to beg, to truly be his for the night. She had done well enough to deter him from roughly jerking her head to the side and sinking his teeth into her neck. She would not scream in pain tonight.
Her tightness, her wetness and his rough pace soon brought him to his own fall. He pulled out of her with a sneer, just moments before orgasm ripped through his body. Groaning deeply as he came on the sheets, Iahotep leaned away from her to sit on his knees. A hand reached in between her legs, fingers working her sensitive, swollen nub with quick, intentional circles, one last time before he pulled away from her completely. Looking down at what he had done, Iahotep grinned. “Mine.” He declared softly as he caught his breath.
When it was all said and done, Iahotep found himself lying beside her in silence. It would remain that way for a time until he could no longer stand her presence. He turned to gaze upon her face as he growled his next command, “Thank your Master, and get out.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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He enjoyed her frustration more than he could say. It was quaint, really. She still believed she had any control? Surely, she knew that the very fire of her life would be quenched if he so wished it? It amused him to no end, though his amusement quickly faded when he did not hear the words he commanded to speak. His movements stopped entirely in favor of the rage that burned in his stomach. The look that crossed face threatened, no, promised suffering. He leaned back far enough to look over her, balancing on his knees as he slipped from inside her. The anger in his eyes continued to intensify as the silence was prolonged. She appeased him just as his hand raised to strike her across the face.
He lowered his hand as she begged for her pleasure. “Ah,” he purred, “your prayers have been heard, my dear,” a feline-esque smile curled his lips upward as he glared down at his lovely little plaything. “I will be merciful and listen.”
Iahotep took a hand and aligned himself with her again, wasting no time sheathing himself inside her. He leaned forward again with a hand resting on either side of her to support himself. His hips rocked back and forth slowly, for only a moment before he started a brutal pace. He wanted her to bruise from the force in which he slammed against her. He wanted her to cry, to moan, to beg, to truly be his for the night. She had done well enough to deter him from roughly jerking her head to the side and sinking his teeth into her neck. She would not scream in pain tonight.
Her tightness, her wetness and his rough pace soon brought him to his own fall. He pulled out of her with a sneer, just moments before orgasm ripped through his body. Groaning deeply as he came on the sheets, Iahotep leaned away from her to sit on his knees. A hand reached in between her legs, fingers working her sensitive, swollen nub with quick, intentional circles, one last time before he pulled away from her completely. Looking down at what he had done, Iahotep grinned. “Mine.” He declared softly as he caught his breath.
When it was all said and done, Iahotep found himself lying beside her in silence. It would remain that way for a time until he could no longer stand her presence. He turned to gaze upon her face as he growled his next command, “Thank your Master, and get out.”
He enjoyed her frustration more than he could say. It was quaint, really. She still believed she had any control? Surely, she knew that the very fire of her life would be quenched if he so wished it? It amused him to no end, though his amusement quickly faded when he did not hear the words he commanded to speak. His movements stopped entirely in favor of the rage that burned in his stomach. The look that crossed face threatened, no, promised suffering. He leaned back far enough to look over her, balancing on his knees as he slipped from inside her. The anger in his eyes continued to intensify as the silence was prolonged. She appeased him just as his hand raised to strike her across the face.
He lowered his hand as she begged for her pleasure. “Ah,” he purred, “your prayers have been heard, my dear,” a feline-esque smile curled his lips upward as he glared down at his lovely little plaything. “I will be merciful and listen.”
Iahotep took a hand and aligned himself with her again, wasting no time sheathing himself inside her. He leaned forward again with a hand resting on either side of her to support himself. His hips rocked back and forth slowly, for only a moment before he started a brutal pace. He wanted her to bruise from the force in which he slammed against her. He wanted her to cry, to moan, to beg, to truly be his for the night. She had done well enough to deter him from roughly jerking her head to the side and sinking his teeth into her neck. She would not scream in pain tonight.
Her tightness, her wetness and his rough pace soon brought him to his own fall. He pulled out of her with a sneer, just moments before orgasm ripped through his body. Groaning deeply as he came on the sheets, Iahotep leaned away from her to sit on his knees. A hand reached in between her legs, fingers working her sensitive, swollen nub with quick, intentional circles, one last time before he pulled away from her completely. Looking down at what he had done, Iahotep grinned. “Mine.” He declared softly as he caught his breath.
When it was all said and done, Iahotep found himself lying beside her in silence. It would remain that way for a time until he could no longer stand her presence. He turned to gaze upon her face as he growled his next command, “Thank your Master, and get out.”
Nia whimpered with relief and fear alike when he entered her again, her body betraying her in the slickness of her arousal while her mind reeled away from what he was doing to her. His pace quickened on the verge of becoming unbearable, her body rocking mercilessly beneath his while he used her to his satisfaction. Each slam of his hips, each thrust of his member imprinted his claim on her flesh, emphasizing his dominance over her as if it was ever in question to begin with.
She groaned, she writhed, she screamed, all as tears fogged her vision and lines of strain and ecstasy both distorted her face. She wanted it all to end, for him to hasten along his orgasm so that she might stumble back home and lick her wounds in solitude. He made a show about answering her prayers, but truly they were answered in the moment he spilled his seed away from her, signaling his end and a finish to the night’s events.
His fingers at her nub finally brought about her own release, body arching off the bed with the force of the climax he’d teased and denied her of for hours. In spite of what preceded it, it was on par with some of the most intense finishes she’d ever had in her life, perhaps intensified by the combined terror and arousal that had precipitated it. Her core tightened and released over and over again, eyes rolling back and toes curling, hovering just on the edge of blacking out. She wouldn’t say the night had been worth it, by any means, but at least she wasn’t walking away from it all completely empty-handed.
Hell, what was she thinking? Nothing could make this night less horrible than it was. There were times when a positive attitude simply couldn’t be applied.
Collapsing back against the bed, she breathed heavily into the prolonged silence, her body aching and quivering in the aftermath of the trauma it had just endured. Shame, horror, and regret filled her in equal measures at what they’d just done, disgust practically seeping from her pores. She couldn’t imagine the audacity of a man doing what Iahotep had just done, not even a Pharaoh. The King of Kings was on a level of his own, and Nia wanted no part of it. She simply had to hope this one night had been enough.
Thank your Master, and get out.
The Pharaoh didn’t have to repeat himself. Nia sprang to her feet, doing her best not to look too eager at her dismissal. She hastily donned her discarded kalasiris, running her fingers through her ruffled hair before turning and dropping into a deep bow before Iahotep. “Thank you, Master,” she whispered through kiss and bite-swollen lips, her dark gaze on the floor. “You have done me a great honor tonight.”
And with that, she was gone, stumbling her way through the door and down the hall with a clumsy speed that bespoke her keenness to be rid of the Palace and the monster that dwelled within it. Never had she longed so fervently for the familiar walls of her family home, and as she practically ran in that direction, she did her best to clear her mind of the horror she’d just broken free from.
However, no matter how far they’re shoved down and how desperate they are to be forgotten, some scars run too deep to be ignored.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Nia whimpered with relief and fear alike when he entered her again, her body betraying her in the slickness of her arousal while her mind reeled away from what he was doing to her. His pace quickened on the verge of becoming unbearable, her body rocking mercilessly beneath his while he used her to his satisfaction. Each slam of his hips, each thrust of his member imprinted his claim on her flesh, emphasizing his dominance over her as if it was ever in question to begin with.
She groaned, she writhed, she screamed, all as tears fogged her vision and lines of strain and ecstasy both distorted her face. She wanted it all to end, for him to hasten along his orgasm so that she might stumble back home and lick her wounds in solitude. He made a show about answering her prayers, but truly they were answered in the moment he spilled his seed away from her, signaling his end and a finish to the night’s events.
His fingers at her nub finally brought about her own release, body arching off the bed with the force of the climax he’d teased and denied her of for hours. In spite of what preceded it, it was on par with some of the most intense finishes she’d ever had in her life, perhaps intensified by the combined terror and arousal that had precipitated it. Her core tightened and released over and over again, eyes rolling back and toes curling, hovering just on the edge of blacking out. She wouldn’t say the night had been worth it, by any means, but at least she wasn’t walking away from it all completely empty-handed.
Hell, what was she thinking? Nothing could make this night less horrible than it was. There were times when a positive attitude simply couldn’t be applied.
Collapsing back against the bed, she breathed heavily into the prolonged silence, her body aching and quivering in the aftermath of the trauma it had just endured. Shame, horror, and regret filled her in equal measures at what they’d just done, disgust practically seeping from her pores. She couldn’t imagine the audacity of a man doing what Iahotep had just done, not even a Pharaoh. The King of Kings was on a level of his own, and Nia wanted no part of it. She simply had to hope this one night had been enough.
Thank your Master, and get out.
The Pharaoh didn’t have to repeat himself. Nia sprang to her feet, doing her best not to look too eager at her dismissal. She hastily donned her discarded kalasiris, running her fingers through her ruffled hair before turning and dropping into a deep bow before Iahotep. “Thank you, Master,” she whispered through kiss and bite-swollen lips, her dark gaze on the floor. “You have done me a great honor tonight.”
And with that, she was gone, stumbling her way through the door and down the hall with a clumsy speed that bespoke her keenness to be rid of the Palace and the monster that dwelled within it. Never had she longed so fervently for the familiar walls of her family home, and as she practically ran in that direction, she did her best to clear her mind of the horror she’d just broken free from.
However, no matter how far they’re shoved down and how desperate they are to be forgotten, some scars run too deep to be ignored.
Nia whimpered with relief and fear alike when he entered her again, her body betraying her in the slickness of her arousal while her mind reeled away from what he was doing to her. His pace quickened on the verge of becoming unbearable, her body rocking mercilessly beneath his while he used her to his satisfaction. Each slam of his hips, each thrust of his member imprinted his claim on her flesh, emphasizing his dominance over her as if it was ever in question to begin with.
She groaned, she writhed, she screamed, all as tears fogged her vision and lines of strain and ecstasy both distorted her face. She wanted it all to end, for him to hasten along his orgasm so that she might stumble back home and lick her wounds in solitude. He made a show about answering her prayers, but truly they were answered in the moment he spilled his seed away from her, signaling his end and a finish to the night’s events.
His fingers at her nub finally brought about her own release, body arching off the bed with the force of the climax he’d teased and denied her of for hours. In spite of what preceded it, it was on par with some of the most intense finishes she’d ever had in her life, perhaps intensified by the combined terror and arousal that had precipitated it. Her core tightened and released over and over again, eyes rolling back and toes curling, hovering just on the edge of blacking out. She wouldn’t say the night had been worth it, by any means, but at least she wasn’t walking away from it all completely empty-handed.
Hell, what was she thinking? Nothing could make this night less horrible than it was. There were times when a positive attitude simply couldn’t be applied.
Collapsing back against the bed, she breathed heavily into the prolonged silence, her body aching and quivering in the aftermath of the trauma it had just endured. Shame, horror, and regret filled her in equal measures at what they’d just done, disgust practically seeping from her pores. She couldn’t imagine the audacity of a man doing what Iahotep had just done, not even a Pharaoh. The King of Kings was on a level of his own, and Nia wanted no part of it. She simply had to hope this one night had been enough.
Thank your Master, and get out.
The Pharaoh didn’t have to repeat himself. Nia sprang to her feet, doing her best not to look too eager at her dismissal. She hastily donned her discarded kalasiris, running her fingers through her ruffled hair before turning and dropping into a deep bow before Iahotep. “Thank you, Master,” she whispered through kiss and bite-swollen lips, her dark gaze on the floor. “You have done me a great honor tonight.”
And with that, she was gone, stumbling her way through the door and down the hall with a clumsy speed that bespoke her keenness to be rid of the Palace and the monster that dwelled within it. Never had she longed so fervently for the familiar walls of her family home, and as she practically ran in that direction, she did her best to clear her mind of the horror she’d just broken free from.
However, no matter how far they’re shoved down and how desperate they are to be forgotten, some scars run too deep to be ignored.