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Sinful Symphonies

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"...What's it going to be then, hm?"

It's over. No one left to hear your cries, your screams, your pleas for help...

"If you stop moving so much, this would be much easier." He crooned in your ear.

His voice is alluring, sweet as honey; his words only bring the promise of destruction and ruin.

"The pain, I can assure you, will be exquisite." He whispers.

The falsity in his statement rings in your ears as Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony is echoing throughout the empty halls.

The smell of amber fills your nose. The once cool sheets are now warm against your skin. The feeling of his weight on you would feel comforting, if he were a lover...

He's anything but... This beautiful man who is the very embodiment of sin. Whose touch brings death... His cherubic face harbors many dark secrets as he looks down on you with an intense gaze as he slowly works his cock into you. Your body is resisting the intrusion.

His hands lie in their own right. Warm and comforting to the touch, now leads to a much more dangerous game. Carefully running up your arms, he stops at your wrists... He's rough at first, gripping them until they're sure to be bruised, held by your head so you can't move. He doesn't need both hands to immobilize you, he soon realizes. He only needs one to your two above your head. Perfect. He thinks to himself.

You don't fight it anymore. Why bother?

You feel him pull out and tears fall as you're both relieved, yet also terrified. He whispers in your ear, "Be a good girl for Daddy." Once he positions himself back at your entrance, he waste no time forcing his cock back into your tight cunt, until your filled to the hilt.

A strangled groan escapes his mouth. A choked gasp escapes yours. You hold back your whimpers as he licks a single stray tear that rolls down your face... He doesn't move. He stays still.

"You see how much easier this is if you just give in to me?" He says breathlessly.

You wiggle your hips up to alleviate the pain. He only pushes in deeper.

"You look beautiful like this... A mess under me, as my cock stretches you for the first time." His voice strains as your body involuntarily clenches around him. "...Feeling how tight you are, as your cunt swallows me whole..."

He remains still. Relishing in how your warmth envelopes him. Lost in his own world of unholy rapture...

"You're sick, Michael." You whisper.

Obsidian eyes glare back at you now.

Your pulse quickens when his free hand strategically runs along the side of your breast, slowly. Then playfully over to tease your taunt nipple between his fingertips. Smirking to himself as your body reluctantly responds to his touch. He moves between the valley of your breast and grazes up lightly to your collarbone.

It almost feels sensual. Erotic. Until it isn't.

His fingers thread their way around your throat. Slowly. Securely.

"I'm not sick. They said they could cure me. I was cured all right." He laughed darkly.

Without warning, he tightened his grip around your throat and thrusted into you.

A moment later. He repeated it again.

Tears were streaming down your face. You tried to cry but no sound could come out. He made sure of that.

"Open your mouth."

You refuse. Why?

"I may let you breathe a little easier. Now, be a good girl and Open. Your. Fucking. Mouth."

Admitting defeat, you obey. Parting your lips to accept his spit like a personal dumpster.

"Good. Don't swallow."

Another hard thrust almost makes you gasp. It's a cruel game he's playing... one you lose no matter what.

"You're Daddy's favorite dirty whore..."

He smiles...

"I'm singin' in the rain, Just singin' in the rain, What a glorious feeling, I'm happy again
I'm laughin' at clouds, So dark up above..."

He continues fucking into you at a brutal pace. His fingers leaving bruising marks in your skin...

"The sun's in my heart, And I'm ready for love..."