CHAPTER 106: CORY X ANSHUR (R18)

She ran her sharp nails up my waist, hips, and bra... That was when we both knew the bedsheets would need a second changing.

This was... Wrong, I could’ve just let her walk out, submit the evidence to Eirlys, and have my life return to its somewhat ordinary days. But of course, just like the hammer of justice, my lust was unending and unpredictable.

When I get to know Anshur personally by touch, and not of leather or steel, I realized that she was one of those people who never seek to receive any physical pleasure from flesh for herself.

She found joy, not just seeing me in pain, but seeing me feel any emotion and react to her stimulations in general... I’ve gathered this information after an extensive quarter hour of Anshur running her hands through every nook and crevice of my body... And I mean every, every part of my body that she could access without needing to remove me from my dress.

The erotic tenderness of how she rubbed and squeezed my body made me feel like a chicken breast being marinated.

Thankfully, I didn’t wet the bedsheet and felt proud of myself as Anshur switched to caressing my cheek.

But as a wise man once said, only a fool would celebrate her victory too early.

After she noticed that I’ve relaxed all my muscles, Anshur bent down low and lovingly bit me on my shoulder. My apologies, lovingly? Did I use that adjective? Because I was wrong.

She sank her teeth into the flesh of mine so hard that if I didn’t scream in time, forcing her to relocate her focus on covering my mouth, she’d have torn a new hole in my body.

"MHMMFMMMMMM," I screamed in agony, nails piercing into Anshur’s upper arm as she licked her lips with both hands pressed down on my mouth to suppress any sound that tried getting out.

Just when I stop squirming and fighting back, with tears running down my cheek, she lets go of my mouth. My left shoulder, where Anshur bit, feels drained. I feel weak just trying to move it, and it aches whenever I think about it. I started sobbing when I rolled over on the bed, lying down on my left arm to make sure she couldn’t see that side.

As the tears were rolling down my cheek, I yelled within a range of controlled decibels, not enough for anyone outside to hear.

"How the fuck am I supposed to say the safeword if you don’t let me talk?! GOD DAMN IT AHH."

"I never thought of that," Anshur replied calmly as she lay down right in front of me.

"Please, no more biting," I gritted my teeth and started hyperventilating like a thirsty dog, "Now what about tomorrow? I wouldn’t be able to wear a dress because there is a mark on my shoulder larger than the god damn national debt, and 95% of clothing given to me by the Sonders to fit into this society were dresses... For some reason, I don’t like it."

"It does look hideous on you." Anshur, raising her head off the bed with a closed fist, said, "I’m sure you have a few dresses with your shoulder hidden, so be a good girl and keep this between us, will you?"

For some reason, for some god damn unholy and unthinkable reasonings, I immediately clenched my body when the word good girl left her mouth.

"Yes... Ma’am."

"Good."

The sheets ruffled, Anshur changed her posture to sit back up without stretching and tearing the maid’s dress with her knees, then, she saddled me while I lay on my heart side.

"This is an awkward position..."

Even when I voice my complaint, deep inside, I knew that I was still going to do whatever the fuck she asked of me with no protest... Because the thrill of the unthinkable unpredictability was better than most.

"Cory... Is that your name?" Anshur asked.

"Y- Yeah? Do you think I have a secret spy identity or something?" I replied.

Without another word, Anshur flipped me over to lie on my back, eye to eye with her.

I instinctively reached over, grabbing the blanket to cover my shoulders, around the suprasternal notch height, and only then could I face her.

The woman spoke once more,

"I don’t... But you’re a good spy if you are one, your idiocracy exceeds my expectations." She smirked, leaning in closer to my face, until our noses touched, "Are you one of those people who save their lips for marriage?"

"I... Ah..." The gay mode set in, and I could not speak for a good five seconds, "Ye- No no no no no noon on o n, please, go ahead, please."

I thought I might be getting a kiss, something romantic, something that would arouse me when I touch myself. But I was wrong, I was so wrong... As Anshur placed both hands on my neck, squeezing down tight, tighter than she had before, so tight that I started losing my mind the very first nanosecond of pressure being applied.

Anshur’s nails were right under my chin, both hands on top of one another, while the web between the thumb and index pressed against my jugular and airway.

Breathing through my nose was torturous; the nostrils inhaled and exhaled hot air that irritated my insides. Desperation kicked in, and I tried pulling her hands away.

The panic was real. I didn’t feel any ecstasy at that moment of sudden violence; I just felt like I could genuinely die at any moment.

I opened my mouth wide to breathe, begging the gods that it would feel better this way. But, only then did I realize that I shouldn’t have answered her prior question as Anshur von Rodolfo closed my mouth with her own.

Our lips touch, though not in a good sense; she knew how to toy with the last bit remaining of my consciousness. Every time I tried to turn my head away so that I could breathe, she would squeeze harder and bite down slightly on my tongue, telling me to obey... And when I turned my head back, the pressure lessened, and she would return to sucking on my tongue, entangling it with hers.

At times, I saw it, I saw the black dots started closing in from the four corners of my vision, and I thought that my escape was here, but she somehow knew also, and started to loosen up her grip, and if I dare to stay asleep, she would bite down on my tongue with force, what felt like could slit it in half.

"Mhmmfm! Mafhfmmm!!!"

I tried yelling the safeword, though I should’ve realized the first time that she didn’t care for its existence.

At the end of it all, of what felt like hours, but must have been merely a minute at best...

My underwear was a mess of two different fluids of my own body. I stuck my tongue out, grasping for air as both of my hands were trembling on my own neck, subconsciously, trying to protect it, my legs spread by the knees as my face twitched like a dog having a seizure.

Anshur stood up and left, saying she would get a new bedsheet.

I do not know if... I hate this or not.