The Price of My Innocence: Demon's Playground

Chapter 7: Driven To Submission

We spent about an hour talking about the issue with Pooja. His solution was to flag her for indiscipline and let the dean take care of it, which would lead to her being barred from school. I really didn't want that. I wanted everyone to like me, I guess. I wanted her to realize I really am down to doing the work for the collective benefit of our entire class and that the only time we competed was for the election. I guess she wasn't one to accept defeat. Kristof warned me though. He said people like her would catch me between a rock and a hard place and use it against me. I didn't believe him, I believed in humanity more. I didn't think it was such a big deal to be so cut-throat. I can't remember when or how, but the conversation shifted.

He switched to video call, and I accepted, not knowing what to expect. The screen opened, and there he was... bare-chested, a towel hanging loosely off his hips, his skin glistening under the bathroom lights. He set his phone down, propped up, so I could see everything, the view, a gift meant only for me.

His back was a masterpiece, each muscle defined and rippling, like a sculptor had carved him from pure desire. He was perfect, achingly so, and I felt heat rise in me, pooling deep and hot. His abs were toned just enough, soft yet powerful, and every line, every curve invited my touch, my mouth. I wanted to outline every muscle with my tongue, to taste the sweat on his skin, savoring him inch by inch. He had the body of a German God, something powerful and wild.

Without a word, he turned and walked into the shower, twisting the handle. Steam started to fill the air, curling around his form. When he came back, he glanced down at me, that dark, dangerous look in his eyes, like he knew the effect he had. With a slow, almost cruel smile, he reached up, tying his hair back, juicy biceps flexing, that towel hanging off him in a way that left just enough to my imagination. He didn’t say a word, didn’t need to.

His eyes never left mine, challenging me, daring me to watch as he tugged the towel loose. It slid to the floor, revealing him fully, gloriously naked. f**k.

His silence built suspense right up to that, well... very HUGE, dick... moment. I meant to say moment. I thought that size only existed in...??? I don't even think I ever thought of that size p***s.

That body, that impossible cock... I wanted to kneel, to worship every inch of him, like he was my personal altar.

My throat tightened with need. I wanted him to consume me, to take every inch of my innocence.

His c**k was… magnificent, thick and heavy. His veins mapping down his length made my mouth water. I couldn’t look away. He was huge, raw masculinity and power. The girth, the weight of him, the head perfectly pink and smooth, my entire body ached to feel every inch inside me, stretching me, filling me.

Every inch of him was built to torment... consume... and fully wreck every last bit of me.

He still didn’t speak, just smirked as he picked up his iPad, tapping the screen before placing it beside him. And then he hit play, and the unmistakable moans of p**n filled the room. My whole body responded to the sight of him watching, letting his hand close around his length as he began stroking himself, slow and unhurried, each stroke powerful and confident. I was captivated, helpless, watching as he worked himself with an intensity that made my body weak.

His eyes burned into me, knowing exactly what he was doing, knowing he was breaking me, piece by piece, stripping away every ounce of innocence I had. I wanted him to take me, to f**k me so hard that I’d forget my own name.

And still, he just watched, silent, stroking, daring me to reach the edge and fall, knowing I was already his.

His eyes never left mine, watching, commanding, pulling me into his world.

My hands drifted over my own body, matching his rhythm with my fingers, lost. He was all I wanted, all I could see, his eyes locked onto mine, challenging me, daring me to take everything he was offering. The entire world melted away; there was only him, only us, connected by this moment that I knew I'd never forget.

Then, with an agonizingly slow intensity, he released, his c**k pulsing in his hand as he gave in, thick ropes of his c*m spilling out, hot and heavy, each drop causing me to tremble. I fell with him, my body responding to his, a symphony of raw desire. His release, thick and abundant, coated him, the sight of it, the heat of it, pulling me deeper. I could almost taste it, begging me to consume it, to take him into me in ways I hadn’t even imagined.

I wanted to slurp his c*m up into a straw and have it with every meal. Savor it like a delicacy. Let it slide down my throat in a constant, delicious flow. The thought made me ache in places I hadn’t known could burn so hot. His c*m was no longer just a part of him; it was everything, my essence, my need.

That's when he walked into the shower and bathed. Leaving me there to watch him. My body was drained, exhausted from cumming so hard, but that didn't stop me. I went again and again until he was finished. Like a newfound addiction. I couldn't stop until he said to. He continued getting ready as if the last few moments didn't occur. I was feeling too little to mention it, so we both carried on the night like it never happened, except I could tell by his eyes, every look, every smile, every move.... I belonged to him... entirely.