I want it. I want it. I want it so fucking bad.

“No!” I whine. “Please, no!”

How can I sound so convincing when I want nothing more than his cock buried inside me? I want him so deep inside me that he can never pull out again. He’s already knocked me up, but I want him to blow a load so hard into me that I’m knocked up with twins.

“You’ll change your mind once I’m in there,” he says, and then he plunges in deeper.

I feel his veiny, throbbing cock sinking further into me, and my eyes tear up in pain. He’s going faster than my pussy can handle, but the pain is just right. After the first sharp pain, my walls pulse around his cock, and a flood of wetness gushes out. The pain melts away as his thick manhood fills me up. And then—just before I’m ready for him to go even deeper—he presses forward and fills me with a new flash of pain.

Before he’s all the way in, I want Betsy-Sue to rebel. I want her to get punished. Then he can fill me up again anew.

“Stop!” I cry, and I pull my hand out of my dress, ball it up into a fist, and punch his washboard abs. It feels like I’m punching a brick wall, and he shakes his head at me.

“I warned you, Betsy-Sue,” he says, shaking his head. “Now we have to do it the hard way.”

Yes! Please, do it to me as hard as you can!

He pulls his cock out of me, and I look up in amazement when I see it’s covered in my hot cum. I can see just how far in he was based on where the white wetness ends, four or five inches down from the throbbing head of his dick.

He grabs the cuffs from the dresser, then he pulls open the drawer and retrieves the second pair.

Betsy-Sue wants his cock inside her, but she’d make a show of running now.

I get up onto my knees and crawl across the bed toward the door.

Dr. Leeds reaches out with one hand and grabs me by one of the windows of my dress. He tugs and pulls me into him.

“All right,” he says. “You wanted to fuck naked? You got it.”

He pulls harder until the dress tears. Then he reaches down with both hands and rips the whole thing in two. The tatters of the dress fall down to my feet, and I’m suddenly wearing nothing.

He shoves me forward until I land face first on the bed. I try to get back up, but I feel his knee pressing into me. He doesn’t pin me down with his full body weight, but he pushes with enough pressure that there’s no way for me to get up. I instinctively reach forward with my hands, which gives him an opening to grab me by the wrists.

“Don’t fight anymore,” he whispers. “Or I’ll have to hurt you. Just a little.”

I try to fake a sob, and it comes out sounding almost real.

He clicks the cuffs around both my wrists at once, and then he pulls until my arms are completely outstretched and spread apart. I hear two more clicks as he fastens me tight to the bedposts.

He lets go, and I struggle against the cuffs, but there’s no slack. As I fight, I get my knees underneath myself, which does little more than push my bare ass up into the air for him.

“Good,” he says. “Now you’ve submitted properly.”

I hear a slight English accent as he says that. The first cracks he’s shown in his role as Rock.

“No,” I whisper.

“Yes,” he says, and then I feel his cock slide back into me. He shoves himself all the way in, in one go. My cum from earlier lubricates his entry for most of the way, and the last four or five inches feel painful for only a brief moment. Then he’s tight and snug inside of me, his balls pressed up against me. I feel his hips pressed into my ass, and I look back up at him with my cheek pressed into the mattress, my breasts falling and partially obscuring my view.

“I’m fully inside you now, Betsy-Sue,” he says, “and I promise you that when I’m done, you’ll beg me to do this again. You’re only lying to yourself right now when you tell me to stop. You’ll feel like a foolish, dumb girl when you think back on the way you begged me not to do the thing you most want me to do to you.”

“It’s so tight,” I whimper.

“And wet,” he says. “And warm. There’s no way it hurts anymore, right?”

I bite my lip defiantly.

“Look,” he says, bucking his hips and pulling out of me.

I can’t see his cock from this angle, but I feel it pull almost entirely out of me, until the tip of his head is just barely inside of me.

He thrusts back in as hard and fast as he can, and the pressure sends my breasts bouncing up, and my whole body shakes from the impact.

“No pain, right?” he asks.

No pain. My pussy feels like it’s on fire. It’s burning wet and begging for him to do that again.

“Do it again,” I say. Betsy-Sue and Nicole have merged together at this point. This is the turning point of my fantasy, where I stop resisting and beg him for what I know I want. He’s finally forced himself on me long enough that I realize he was right to do so all along.

“Oh,” he says, “so you’ve come around?”

I pull my wrists and jangle the cuffs. “Please, Rock.”

“Tell me how sorry you are,” he says. “For being stubborn.”

“I was wrong,” I say, looking up at him. “I should have begged you to keep going all along. It feels so good, Mr. Rock.”

He digs his fingers into the fat flesh of my ass and starts to thrust. “Keep going,” he says.

“Ahh!” I moan. Each time he pounds into me, I can hear the sound of our skin slapping together. I feel my ass cheeks moving wildly, and Dr. Leeds smashing back in before they can settle again.

“What do you want now?” Dr. Leeds asks, panting. “Do you want me to fucking stop?”

“No!” I wail. “Whatever you do, don’t stop!”

He rams me so hard that it feels like the drool pooling out of my mouth is being rammed out of me from deep inside. My back muscles flex and tighten as I pull against the cuffs to stick my ass even higher up for him. The metal digs into my wrists when I buck my hips against his powerful thrusts.

“Fuck!” he grunts. “Your virgin pussy feels so good.”

“I’m not a virgin—” I yelp in pleasure, and my eyes roll back into my head. “I’m not...you fucked the virgin right out of me.”

Each word I try to get out is punctuated by the sound of our sweating bodies slamming together, of his wet cock plunging in and out of my pussy, and of our combined moans and sighs as we fuck each other into oblivion. I doubt he can really understand what I’m saying anymore—I don’t know if I’m even getting the words out, or if I’m just moaning and gasping and drooling unintelligibly.

I pull myself up by the cuffs, ignoring how the metal bites into my skin. I grasp the headboard with my hands, and Dr. Leeds slides forward with me, plowing right back into my pussy. He thrusts in and out again, and each time he hits me, the headboard bashes against the wall. The springs in the bed creak, though they’re barely audible over our screams and moans.

He cups my breasts from below, and they jiggle within his hands as he pounds me without mercy. He squeezes my nipples between his fingers, which holds them in place below, but does nothing to stop the rest of my breasts from moving back and forth each time he rams balls-deep into me.

My pussy clenches up, and I realize I’m going to cum again. I’m going to milk his cock and he’s going to explode inside of me as he fucks me for all he’s worth.

“Ahh,” I yelp out as my pussy convulses.

“Fuck!” he grunts.

All the muscles in my body tense up, and I lose my grip on the headboard. I fall face first into the bed, and the cuffs pull my arms painfully up and back, like a bird’s wings.

He doesn’t stop, and I arch my back to feel him better. To feel him more—as much as I possibly can.

Ecstasy explodes from deep within me. I exist only as a wave of pleasure, which Dr. Leeds is both riding and creating. Everything feels like it’s vibrating. The vibrations of our cries and moans merge together with the vibrations pulsating deep within me. Warmth explodes and pulses across my body, and I feel each hair on my arms stand up as I tremble. My arms thrash uselessly against the metal chains, and my body moves instinctively against Dr. Leeds’ cock. Even though I know I’m already pregnant, my hips buck to some primal beat, begging Dr. Leeds’ thick dick to fill me with his potent seed.

And a grunt from him tells me he’s about to cum. I feel his cock growing inside me, and it begins to throb. The veins press against my walls, and then I feel his cock twitch. His thick warmth blasts across my insides, and my pussy trembles, begging his cock for more.

“Fuck!” he grunts, and I feel his hand slapping hard against my ass. The pain brings me momentarily back to reality, ripping me out of that cloud of ecstasy, and just as fast I’m whisked back into the unreality of the orgasm, yet sinking back into that feeling that makes it feel better than before. It’s like feeling the covers being ripped off in the morning to go to work to have the cold of winter hit you, only to remember it’s Saturday—pulling the sheets back on and the warmth rolling back across your body as you slip back into slumber.

I feel his hot cum dripping out of me as I squirt all over his dick. Our combined juices coat his cock and flow across it as he plunges back into me.

He slaps my ass one last time as his cock throbs and pumps me fuller and fuller, and he falls down onto me, pressing me flat against the bed. My pussy convulses for another full minute or two, and his cock twitches in rhythm with me even long after his seed is fully spent and his balls are emptied.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

“Good night, Ms. Faria,” he whispers into my ear.

* * *

I wake up in the morning with my hands still cuffed above my head, and the afterglow still burning like a fire within me.

Dr. Leeds is gone, but I can hear the shower running. I imagine him walking out of the shower, his body wet, smelling fresh, and with nothing on but a towel wrapped around his waist.

I feel my stomach rumble, and I wonder if we can get room service when he comes back out. He’d have to uncuff me if we were going to eat together in bed, unless he’s planning on feeding me himself. That could be kind of hot, actually.

I drift back in and out of sleep as warm memories from last night wash across me. Being cuffed to the bed means there’s little more I can do, but when I hear the bathroom door open, I snap awake and look up at Dr. Leeds.

He’s wearing just the towel as I’d imagined, and he grins down at me.

“Ms. Faria,” he says.

“Where did Rock go?” I ask.

“Maybe Betsy-Sue rode off with him into the night,” he says, his accent back and British as ever.

“Or maybe he left her behind, alone and cold,” I say, suddenly remembering what’s going to happen to me and my child. Our child.

“Can we get breakfast?” I ask.

“Maybe I should make you work up more of an appetite first,” he says, his eyes running across the curves of my body hidden beneath the sheets.

He reaches down and pulls the sheets off me, and the cold hits me, and my nipples perk up.

“Mmm,” he says. “I think that’s for the best. Now that we are back to ourselves, you must obey me again, Ms. Faria.”

I nod, but I realize I can’t let him inside me again as Elijah Leeds. I have to tell him now. I gave myself that one night of fantasy, of us fucking in two strangers’ skin, of him taking me almost against my will, but now that we are back to our real selves, I can’t let this secret stay between us. Just as he told me from the beginning that he’d leave me, I owe it to him to tell him this uncomfortable truth.

“Elijah,” I say solemnly.

He raises his eyebrows at hearing his first name. It’s only the second time I’ve ever called him that.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to tell you something,” I say. “You promised you’d always be honest with me, so I’ll do the same for you. I know how you feel about this...about us...and I know this won’t really change anything. Still, I have to tell you, and you can do with it what you will.”

“Go on,” he says.

“I’m pregnant,” I say. “And I know you’re going to leave me, but I’m keeping the baby. I’ve decided. You can’t convince me otherwise.”

He narrows his eyes at me, and then something cracks his cool exterior. He turns his back to me quite suddenly, and he grabs neatly folded clothes from the top of the dresser.

“Elijah?” I say, my voice trembling.

He drops his towel and begins putting on his clothes piece by piece. His back stays to me even as he tightens his belt.

“Say something,” I say frantically, tears welling up in my eyes.

He finally looks over his shoulder at me, his brows furrowed. “You wait here.”

And with that, he’s out the door. It shuts behind him, and as I realize how painfully alone I am, the tears flow like a waterfall. The sadness cuts deep into my heart and into my bones, and it tears away any trace of afterglow or happiness from last night. He even tore the fucking sheets off my body, and the air conditioning drones on and sends goosebumps across my skin.

I tear at the cuffs and cry until my throat is sore. The cuffs cut red lines across my wrists, and I finally decide he’s not holding me here. I’m not waiting for him to return only to tell me he’s done with me. He doesn’t hold the key for me anymore.

I pull myself up by the cuffs and grasp the wooden posts of the headboard. It has six or seven wooden posts running across its width, all of them topped off by another horizontal piece of wood, forming almost a cage of wood.

I study the posts and where they meet the top bar. I realize that they are two distinct pieces of wood, and I start to pull up on the top piece. I see it gives a centimeter or so as I pull, but it must be held in with wood glue. I wrap the extra slack from the chains beneath the horizontal piece of wood, and I grasp the chains together above, tightening the metal against the horizontal piece. I start to pull up with all my strength. I dig my knees into the headboard for added leverage, and I hear a crack as the glue gives way. I pull harder, and the peg starts to pop out. I pull and pull until my muscles ache, and finally the peg pops out enough so that I can slide the handcuff chains through the gap, freeing my right hand.

Now for the left.