DASHIELL
I could not breathe properly.
Alexander's thick cock was restricting every airflow into my body, stretching my lips obscenely wide, pressing heavy and hot against the back of my throat. Every time he pushed deeper, my gag reflex kicked in violently, my throat convulsing around the invasion. As I looked up at him through watery eyes, I saw the pure glee and relish in his black gaze as he stared down at me, drinking in the panic that must have been flashing behind my eyes at the terrifying thought of dying from asphyxiation.
That look alone filled me with raw fear.
He wasn't soft or gentle. He was enjoying this, enjoying the way I was struggling, the way my body was fighting for air while my cock still throbbed traitorously in my pants.
Without warning, he tightened his grip on my scalp, fingers digging in so hard I felt the sharp sting of pain, like he was about to rip strands of hair out by the roots. Then he slammed his hips forward, forcing every inch of his cock straight to the back of my throat in one brutal thrust.
I gagged violently, my throat seizing around him, choking sounds tearing from me as spit immediately began to dribble from the corners of my stretched lips. It ran down my chin, dripping messily onto my neck and chest in thick, shiny strands.
"Fuck… that's it," Alexander growled, voice low and dark, completely calm even as he started fucking my face with ruthless, deep strokes. "Choke on it. Let me feel that throat flutter around my cock."
Tears streamed down my face. My hands flew up to clutch at his thick thighs, nails digging in, but he didn't slow down. He kept one powerful hand fisted tight in my hair, yanking my head back and forth to meet his thrusts, using my mouth like a toy. The wet, obscene sounds of me gagging and slurping filled the room, spit flying everywhere as he forced himself even deeper.
I was drooling uncontrollably now, thick strings of saliva running down my neck, soaking the front of my shirt. My throat burned. My lungs screamed for air. Every brutal thrust made my vision blur at the edges.
Just when my lungs felt like they would explode, he finally pulled back. His cock slid out of my throat with a wet, obscene pop, strings of saliva connecting my swollen lips to the glistening head. I gasped desperately, coughing and wheezing, chest heaving as air rushed back into my burning lungs.
I tried to speak, but my voice came out completely wrecked, hoarse, raspy, barely audible. "I… I can't…"
Alexander looked down at me with that same unhinged, delighted smile, still fisting my hair tight enough to sting. His cock bobbed in front of my face, slick with my spit, impossibly hard.
"I think I'm getting less sad, hubby," he said conversationally, like we were discussing the weather after he'd just tried to suffocate me with his dick. "Your throat feels excellent. Very therapeutic."
A broken, raspy sound escaped me at how insane he sounded. "Y-you're… not sad," I croaked, voice destroyed, every word scraping painfully through my raw throat. "Just… let me go. It's e-enough… please…"
Alexander's eyebrows rose slowly, that manic little smirk widening into something truly unhinged. He tapped his wet cock against my cheek again, smearing more spit and precum across my skin like he was marking territory.
"Not sad?" he repeated, sounding almost entertained. "You're right. I'm not sad at all. I feel perfectly fine. Excellent, even." He tapped the heavy, wet head of his cock against my swollen bottom lip, smearing more spit across it. "But you offered to make me feel *better*, little anomaly. And right now, your throat feels fucking incredible. So warm. So tight. So desperate to please me."
I tried to shake my head, but his grip in my hair kept me firmly in place. "Alexander… please… I can't…"
He cut me off by sliding the head back between my lips, pushing just the tip in and out slowly, teasing.
"You can," he said flatly, voice calm and merciless. "You're already doing so well. Look at all this mess you're making." He used his free hand to smear the spit dripping down my chin, spreading it messily over my cheek. "Crying, drooling, choking on my cock like a good little husband. It's adorable how hard you're trying."
He suddenly thrust deep again, slamming to the back of my throat in one smooth motion. I gagged hard, fresh tears spilling as more spit bubbled out around his shaft and ran down my neck in rivulets.
"See?" he continued conversationally, as if he wasn't currently fucking my face raw. "This is much better than talking. No pointless pity or useless emotions. Just your pretty mouth wrapped around me, struggling so sweetly. This is what you're good for right now."
He pulled out again, letting me gasp for air, strings of spit still connecting us.
My voice came out broken and raspy. "You're… insane…"
Alexander smirked, that dangerous, manic curve of his lips making my stomach flip with fear and something darker.
"Yes," he agreed easily, tapping his slick cock against my tongue again. "I am. And you married me anyway. Now open wider, little anomaly. I'm not done using you yet."
He didn't wait for an answer.
He simply gripped my hair tighter, tilted my head back, and slid his thick cock back into my throat, resuming those deep, ruthless thrusts like he had all the time in the world.
And I could only take it, choking, drooling, tears streaming while my own cock throbbed helplessly in my pants.
Then he leaned down slightly, still holding my hair in that brutal grip, and whispered against my ear, voice soft but ice-cold:
"Do you want me to stop? Say the word and I'll pull you off my cock right now. But we both know you won't. Because deep down, my little anomaly likes being used like this. You like knowing I could break you… and you'd thank me for it."
He straightened again, tapping his cock on my tongue expectantly, that wicked, psychopathic smile never fading.
"So open wide, hubby. Daddy's not even close to done feeling better."