The Dread of Damned
Rules

I rose from the water, rivulets of pink-tinged droplets cascading down my body. She was a werewolf, after all—the bleeding had already stopped, the torn flesh knitting itself back together, leaving only small white stumps where hollow wounds had been moments before.

My cock remained fully erect, throbbing with need, the engorged head glistening with beads of precum under the dim light.

She looked up at me, the defiance in her eyes fractured, her breath shallow as I smirked down at her.

"Now you're not barking so uselessly." My fingers tangled in her damp hair, stroking almost tenderly before tightening. "Good dogs get rewards."

Before she could react, I shoved her back against the edge of the tub. Her head and shoulders draped over the rim, her lower body still submerged, while those full, heavy breasts perched perfectly on the porcelain edge—ripe, firm, begging to be used.

I was on her in an instant, knees braced against the tub, legs caging her in. My cock aligned between the swell of her tits, and with a fist still knotted in her hair, I yanked her head back, arching her spine until a whimper escaped her lips. The position forced her chest forward, her nipples stiffening against the cool air.

I slid myself between her breasts, groaning at the sensation—warm, impossibly soft, yet firm enough to resist the weight of my thrusts. Another woman would have needed to hold herself together, but her muscles were trained, her body obedient, keeping those perfect mounds taut even as I rutted between them.

The water had made her skin slick, my cock gliding effortlessly, the wet heat of her flesh maddening. My balls slapped against her with each movement, the sharp, rhythmic smack of skin on skin filling the room.

Her arms had fallen limp out of the tub, fingers splayed helplessly on the tile as I bent her further, nearly hearing the strain in her spine. But she didn't growl—only whimpered, the sound sending a fresh pulse of heat straight to my cock.

My free hand groped her roughly, kneading the abused flesh, pinching her dark nipples until they stood swollen and red. Her golden-brown skin flushed under my touch, marked by my fingers, my teeth, my relentless grip.

When my gaze dropped to her raised arm, I trailed my fingers up her side, tracing the curve of her ribs before finding the thick, damp tangle of her armpit hair. Without mercy, I twisted my fingers into it and pulled.

Her body jerked, a choked howl tearing from her throat as her legs kicked uselessly in the water. I laughed, grinding against her, my cock weeping as I tormented the sensitive skin, crushing the wiry hair beneath my palm before yanking again.

When she tried to lower her arm, my hand cracked across her face, the sharp snap of the slap echoing off the walls. A red imprint bloomed on her cheek.

"Do that again," I growled, my voice a dark promise, "and see if you have any nails left."

She believed me.

"This is your reward," I murmured against her ear, my breath hot as tears dripped from her lashes onto the floor. "Take it."

The pressure in my balls coiled tighter, my cock pulsing, the pleasure bordering on pain. I couldn't hold back any longer.

With a brutal thrust, I buried myself between her tits one last time before wrenching her head forward, forcing the head of my cock past her lips.

"Take it," I snarled. "This is your gift."

I fucked her mouth in the same relentless rhythm, her choked gasps only spurring me on, until finally—with one last deep shove—I pushed myself to the hilt,

the lower half of my dick entering deep into her breasts. Their firmness coated my balls—soft skin stretched taut over swollen curves, slightly damp with sweat, heat radiating off her chest like a low-burning fire. The sensation was electric.

My balls, sensitive and heavy with need, were cupped and squeezed gently by the cushion of her cleavage, every subtle movement sending jolts of pleasure through my core. The contrast—the weight of them pressing into her softness, the heat, the slippery tightness—all of it blurred into a heady, maddening ache.

And just like that thick spurts flooded her throat, her gagging vibrations only heightening the pleasure as I held her there, my fingers tight in her hair.

"Drink," I commanded, grinding against her, forcing every last drop down her throat. "Every. Last. Drop."

I slowly eased my cock out of her mouth and rose to my feet, feeling my balls slip free from the narrow valley between her breasts with a soft, wet pop.

"Good girl. You drank it all," I murmured, running a hand over her head.

"This is your reward. The more obedient you are, the more I'll give you," I whispered, rinsing myself off with fresh water once again before stepping out of the washroom with her crawling behind me.

The clothes had already been laid out in the room. I walked over and picked up the modern black dress pants and matching shirt.

It had been so long since I'd seen anything this... refined.

I pulled the garments on slowly, savoring the crisp texture against my skin.

She moved toward an ochre-colored set of clothes folded neatly on the bed, but I cleared my throat.

Now fully dressed, I walked toward her and gently ran my fingers through her hair.

"You're a dog," I said softly. "Have you ever seen a dog wearing clothes in the forest?"

Her yellow eyes locked onto mine—intense, feral, unblinking.

"So whenever we're alone… you'll be naked," I added with a quiet smile.

She hesitated, then nodded. One step back.

I stepped forward, catching a handful of her hair and tugging sharply, pulling her to me.

"And what kind of dog walks on two feet?" I asked, silver eyes gleaming with amusement.