Before I could even think to react—before my brain could process the shift in his posture or the predatory glint flickering behind his painted eyes—Mavus spun me around with such fluid efficiency it felt choreographed, the world blurring into a disorienting kaleidoscope of flickering candlelight and leaping shadows.
A sharp, pathetic yelp tore from my throat—high and undignified—as my feet left the floor without warning. He hoisted me up effortlessly, massive arms banding around my thighs like steel cables, yanking my knees high and wide until they framed my face in a position I’d never experienced before.
Then those massive palms slid higher, thick fingers threading behind my head and lacing together in an unbreakable cage of muscle and heat that rendered me completely immobile and utterly at his mercy.
My head sank into the warmth of his chest where I could feel his heartbeat—steady, measured, infuriatingly calm despite the situation—each pulse vibrating through his sternum and into my skull like a metronome counting down to something inevitable.
My breathing went absolutely haywire in response, chest heaving with panicked gasps that drew in the scent of his sweat mixed with something darker, muskier, fundamentally masculine in a way that made my head spin with aching need.
The confines of this position left me feeling exposed in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Beyond exposed, actually—utterly, catastrophically helpless.
Every vulnerable inch of my body was on full display without any possibility of hiding or protecting myself, my agency stripped away and replaced with absolute dependence on the man currently holding me like I weighed nothing—folded, spread, owned—my entire existence reduced to whatever he chose to do with the helpless body he now controlled so effortlessly.
I stared down at my leaking cock hanging unprotected in open air—flushed and twitching with an arousal so intense it bordered on painful, pre-cum dripping from the tip in steady streams that caught the candlelight before falling to the floor below.
Just beneath my suspended form, Mavus’s cock stood thick and heavy, pulsing violently with each breath he drew. The sheer size of it made my stomach clench with anticipation, a nauseating twist of raw hunger and primal fear knotting low in my gut.
I twisted my head just enough—cheek mashed harder against his chest, neck straining—to catch a glimpse of his painted face in my peripheral vision. Despite the way my lungs burned and my voice cracked, I forced out my brattiest, most insolent smirk, lips trembling around the expression before I spoke.
"You know," I managed breathlessly, voice pitched higher than normal, words tumbling out faster than I could properly control, "this is very presumptuous of you. Very... forward. What happened to consent? Asking nicely? Maybe a romantic dinner first where we discuss our feelings and—oh fuck—"
The last word choked off into a strangled whimper as Mavus shifted his hips with deliberate slowness. The blunt head of his cock pressed directly against my entrance with a pressure that made my entire body tense in response.
The sheer contact alone—just the suggestion of penetration without follow-through—made my hole twitch and convulse with desperate anticipation, muscles clenching around nothing, my body practically begging for something it knew was coming but couldn’t quite reach.
He rolled his hips forward in a motion that nudged harder, applied more pressure, stretched that ring of muscle just enough to make me whine with need. But he never fully entered, never gave me what I was starting to realize I desperately craved.
"Don’t—" I gasped, my voice dropping to something quiet and pleading that I barely recognized as my own. "Don’t tease me like that. Please
"Patience," Mavus interrupted, his voice rumbling through his chest and directly into my back where we made contact. The vibrations traveled through flesh and bone to settle hot and heavy in my gut, making my already fluttering hole clench tighter around the fat crown teasing my rim. "Is a virtue you desperately need to cultivate. You rush everything—magic, combat, pleasure—treating every experience like a race to be won rather than a process to be mastered. But true power, true technique, true satisfaction..."
He nudged a little harder, making me whine involuntarily. "...requires the discipline to wait for precisely the right moment. To build tension until it becomes unbearable. To let anticipation sharpen every sensation until a single touch feels like lightning." His grip tightened fractionally, steadying me. "So be patient. Breathe. Only when I decide you’re ready—when you’ve learned this lesson about control and timing—will I’ll give you exactly what you’re begging for."
In that instant, he rammed his cock deep into my insides without warning. The thick shaft split me open in one brutal thrust that punched the air from my lungs, my back arching violently against his hold as a raw, slutty moan tore from my throat, echoing off the backstage walls in waves of shameless pleasure.
My cock jerked violently in response, spurting a fountain of pre-cum that arced through the air in glistening ropes before splattering wetly across the floorboards below.
Each violent throb sent another thick jet leaking from my slit, painting my belly and dripping down my sides in warm, sticky trails while my hole spasmed wildly around the massive intrusion now buried to the hilt.
With a shaky breath, I glanced down.
The obscene angle of my folded body gave me an unobstructed view straight across my trembling stomach, and I watched with dizzy fascination as the outline of Mavus’s massive cock bulged slightly against my flesh.
It rose just below my navel, the fat ridge of his shaft visibly distorting my abdomen with every slow, insistent throb. The shape shifted slightly when he flexed inside me—length thickening, crown nudging impossibly deeper—stretching the taut flesh into a lewd, unmistakable imprint that marked exactly how far he’d buried himself, how completely he’d rearranged my insides around his girth.
My mind fractured at the sight, spiraling through thoughts about depth, size, and the fact that I could see him inside me, could watch my own body accommodate something that should have been impossible.
"Look at that," Mavus growled, voice rolling through his chest and sinking straight into my spine. "Look at how deep I am, how completely you’re taking me. Your body was made for this—made to be filled, to be used, to surrender every illusion of control and accept what a real man can give you. Can you feel me pulsing inside you? Feel the way your insides clench around my cock like they’re trying to pull me deeper?"
I could. Gods, I could feel everything—the searing heat of him stretching my inner walls, the throb of his heartbeat transmitted through his cock directly into my core, the way he was mashing mercilessly against my prostate, pressing that swollen bundle of nerves flat until sparks of white-hot pleasure detonated behind my eyes, sending fresh jolts of liquid heat straight to my balls and up my leaking cock.
My voice cracked into a high, needy keen—half sob, half slutty whimper—as another slow, arrogant pulse rolled through his shaft, making the bulge swell thicker for a heartbeat before easing back.
"Yes," I gasped, the word barely coherent. "Yes, I can—fuck, Mavus, you’re so big, I can feel you everywhere. I can see it moving inside my stomach, I can’t—ngh—please, I need—"
He pulled back with agonizing slowness, dragging his cock through my insides with deliberate friction. My oversensitive nerves screamed in protest at the loss while simultaneously kneading another thick string of pre-cum from my desperate cock.
The sudden emptiness hit me like a punch to the gut. My hole spasmed wildly around nothing, clenching and winking in greedy, rhythmic pulses like it was trying to trap him inside, to keep him buried where he belonged, but Mavus maintained that measured withdrawal until just the head remained kissing my puffy, abused entrance, smearing his pre-cum across my fluttering rim in slow, teasing circles.
Then he slammed back in.
Deeper this time, harder, angling his hips so his cock ground against my prostate on the way through. White-hot lightning exploded behind my eyes, my vision blurring at the edges as my entire body seized in response.
He didn’t stop.
Again. And again. And again. Each punishing thrust built into a rhythm that punched breathless moans from my throat in waves I couldn’t control, my brain liquefying under the assault as my thoughts fragmented into pure sensation without language.
"That’s it," Mavus coached, his voice steady despite the exertion I could feel in the tightening of his muscles against my back. "Feel how your body responds, how every cell reorients itself around this pleasure. This is what surrender looks like—not weakness, but the strength to accept what you need even when pride tells you to resist."
"Mavus," I whimpered, the name breaking in my throat as another thrust drove coherent speech from my vocabulary. "Please—I need—my cock is so hard, I can’t—it hurts, I need to cum so badly—"
"No," he said with absolute authority. "You don’t get to cum until I’ve emptied inside you first. Not a second sooner. Your release belongs to me now—tied to mine, locked behind my pleasure. You’re going to feel every second of this, every thrust, every moment of building pressure until I decide we’re finished. Can you handle that? Can you be good and wait like I’m telling you to?"
I whimpered—full-body trembling, mind turning to absolute mush as his cock continued its devastating assault on my insides, churning through my guts with a force that should’ve hurt but instead just pushed me higher toward a peak I wasn’t allowed to reach.
The slow, molten wave in my core kept building—unstoppable, merciless—pleasure twisting tighter with every brutal collision of his hips against my ass.
My thoughts spiraled further into chaos, coherent planning replaced by animalistic need, pride and wit dissolving under relentless physical domination that left no room for anything except desperate submission.
"Please—" The word escaped in a broken sob. "Please, Mavus, I’m begging you—I can’t hold it anymore—it’s too much, you’re too much, I need to cum so badly it’s making me insane—please let me cum—"
"Beg louder," he growled, tightening his grip on my thighs, yanking me wider, folding me tighter, spreading me even more obscenely around his pistoning cock. "Tell me exactly what you want. Use your words. Make me believe you’re desperate enough to earn it."
"I need you to cum inside me!" The confession burst from me in a rush of shameless honesty. "I need to feel you flooding my insides, pumping me full of your filth until it’s leaking out around your cock, marking me from the inside with your—fuck—with your thick fucking cum—please, breed me, make me yours completely—I’m begging you, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, just please let me cum—!"
Every word came out slurred and frantic, punctuated by the wet, filthy sounds of him fucking me senseless—squelching, slapping, his hips crashing against my ass in rapid, relentless rhythm.
His grip turned brutal, fingers digging deep enough to leave dark, blooming bruises, locking me in place as he pounded harder, faster, deeper. Each thrust drove me higher toward an edge I was barely clinging to through sheer force of will.
Time stretched into syrupy agony. Seconds bloated into minutes, each one heavy with unbearable tension. I could feel it building—relentless, merciless—a molten wave rising higher, cresting closer, every nerve screaming that the edge was right there, right there
My vision tunneled, breath hitching into shallow, broken pants, tears pricking hot at the corners of my eyes as the tension stretched thinner, sharper, until I thought I’d snap in half from the sheer strain of holding on.
And then it shattered.
Mavus buried himself deeper than before—impossibly deep, stretching tissues that shouldn’t stretch, claiming space that shouldn’t exist—and flooded me.
Hot, thick jets of cum erupted within me in powerful, rhythmic surges I could feel with every inch of my ruined insides. Each heavy spurt blasted against my deepest walls, flooding me with heat that spread through my core like liquid fire, rope after viscous rope pumping me so full that my belly visibly swelled with the pressure.
The sheer volume stretched me further, forcing his spend to bubble back out around his shaft in creamy, messy surges that coated his balls and dripped in thick globs to the floor below.
I cried out in helpless abandon, my voice breaking around the edges as relief crashed through my system in waves. My cock seized violently, pulsing with its own desperate rhythm as the first massive rope of cum erupted from the swollen tip in a thick, white arc that sailed several feet through the air before slapping wetly against the wooden floor with an obscene splat.
Another followed—harder, hotter—then another. My balls contracted painfully as they unloaded everything they’d been forced to hold back in long, shuddering jets that painted the boards beneath us in glistening streaks.
My body convulsed with each pulse, thighs quaking in Mavus’s bruising grip, hole spasming wildly around his still-buried cock as I gasped and sobbed through the flood of his release.
But Mavus didn’t stop.
Even as his cum continued flooding out around the root of his shaft—hot, viscous rivers of it bubbling past my fluttering rim and streaming down the insides of my thighs in glossy, sticky trails that painted my skin in cooling white ribbons—even as he continued churning out his spend in pulses that showed no signs of slowing, he kept pounding. His hips drove forward with a rhythm that forced my overstimulated body to keep responding despite having barely anything left to give.
My mouth hung open, jaw slack, drool escaping to run down my chin and drip onto my heaving chest as I gazed down at my cock being forced to pump out more of its helpless release.
Each thrust milked another weak spurt until nothing remained but a thick string of cum hanging and quivering from my tip, stretched taut by gravity before finally snapping and breaking to join the growing puddle below.
Only then did Mavus decide he’d finished his lesson.
He buried himself to the hilt one final time, letting me feel the final heavy throb of his cock as the last of his load settled deep inside my bloated, leaking core.
Then—slowly, excruciatingly slowly—he began to withdraw, dragging his aching length through my abused hole with a friction that made me grit my teeth against an oversensitivity that bordered on pain.
The head popped past my puffy, gaping rim with a wet, filthy schlick. A final, powerful spurt lashed out the moment he cleared me—hot, thick ropes of leftover cum arcing through the air to paint the backs of my trembling thighs in long, sticky streaks that ran down toward my knees in slow, cooling trails.
Mavus grunted—a low, satisfied sound that suggested even his monstrous strength had finally met its limit—and lowered me with surprising gentleness.
I stood for a beat on legs that shook like a newborn deer attempting their first steps, my knees buckling without permission, before I collapsed forward in a graceless heap that sent me to the floor.
My cheek pressed against the cooling wood, ass perked high and inviting into the air. Cum continued to leak from my gaping hole in sluggish, creamy dribbles—thick globs of it sliding down my crack before pooling between my spread thighs.
Mavus brushed off his hands with casual finality, glancing down at my crumpled form with satisfaction. "This lesson has concluded," he said simply.
I tried to answer.
Gods help me, I really tried.
What crawled out of my throat instead was a sound that was meant to be words but came out more like a dying animal’s final protest, my brain too thoroughly fucked into oblivion to form coherent responses beyond sprawling on the floor and contemplating every life choice that had led to this moment.