Dana/Conrad smut

Dana's wrists were held together above her head. All she could do was stare into Conrad's eyes, biting her lip in anticipation of what she hoped was about to come. The feeling of him taking her, using her, fucking her like his bitch. He just stared down at her, his expression unreadable to her. Finally, finally, his free hand found its proper place under her skirt, slipping aside her panties, and his fingers started to toy with her wet and greedy cunt, slipping deep into her. All she could do was shiver in anticipation of what was coming.

For Conrad, watching the prideful little faerie princess, the vindictive selfish slut, practically melt in his hands was an intoxicating feeling of power. All his irritations with her behavior past and present bubbled to the forefront of his mind, and he just leaned closer to her, watching as she wriggled and writhed on his fingers, trying to stimulate herself using his hand. She let out a weak little whimper. "F-fuck me, sir," she begged, her eyes seeming to plead with him, desperation filling her. "Please." He didn't want to give her what she wanted; he wanted to tease her, to abuse her, to hurt her.

"No, bitch," he said, voice rough. She quivered in his hands, the name-calling making her gush again, that sharp tingle that came whenever he called her what she really was - a bitch, a slut - coming back. She wriggled on top of him harder, trying to hump his fingers, and he adjusted his hold on her, forcing her to stand on her toes, reducing her mobility to nothing. He was in charge, not her. "I decide when I fuck you." The feeling of powerlessness that those words brought Dana made her involuntarily whimper, and watching her so pathetically desperate for him made Conrad's cock throb in his pants.

"Y-yes, sir," Dana said, with a limp nod. Conrad's fingers started to explore her eager pussy again, making her flinch and shiver in pleasure as they reached deep inside her. "I, I'm sorry f-for being such a bitch, sir," she stammered out, her eyes rolling up in pleasure as she felt her orgasm approach. The way he held her, the way he controlled her body and made her completely dependent on him for her orgasm... that powerlessness made her feelings of pleasure even more intense. He thumbed her clitoris, and she shook in pleasure again. "I'm, I'm close, sir," she whimpered.

His fingers pulled out at those words, and her head lolled, trying to find what had happened, the reason for the sudden emptiness inside her. She squirmed, pathetically, but she couldn't accomplish anything, balanced on her toes as she ways. Little tears appeared in the corners of her eyes as she desperately wished to feel him inside of her. He watched her for a while, enjoying the way she squirmed, the little winces and pants as she fought him, struggled, her eyes bleary with pleasure and weakness. "Beg, bitch," he ordered.

The dominance in his voice, the use of that word, it made it impossible for her to resist, if she had wanted to. She turned her eyes to his. "Please sir," she said, pouting her lip, her eyes growing large and desperate. He didn't understand most of her expression, but he understood enough to know that she was sincere in her desire, and that made him want to tease her more. "Please, let your bitch come sir, she promises to be a good slut for you," she writhed in his grasp, eyes glassy, breath heavy, her flawless body put on display with every motion. "Your bitch will do whatever you say, sir, if you only deign to let her come."

Conrad brought his hand up towards her lecherous little sex, desperate as it was to be filled. She whimpered when he stopped halfway, recognized the cruel glint in his eye as he slowly brought it up one thigh, fingers running along her smooth skin. She didn't know if he wanted her to beg more or not, if begging would put him off or speed him up, and she didn't want to make the wrong decision, not here, not now. Finally, his fingers finished their slow ascent and entered her once more, and it was like throwing water on a fire, helping to quench her desire. She went as limp as she could in his grasp, her head falling forward, her eyes closing. "You like that, bitch?" She nodded, weakly. His fingers withdrew, and she whimpered, pathetically. "You like when I let you feel good?" She nodded again, more powerfully this time, desperate to keep him playing with her. His fingers slipped inside her again. "Tell me how it makes you feel."

"It makes me feel good, sir," she said, gasping and panting. "When you toy with me, when you play with me, you do it so good, sir. I c-can't believe how good it feels, sir, when you touch me like that." His fingers kept stroking inside her, and she gasped in delirious pleasure. She couldn't stop speaking, not now, couldn't stop praising him, because then he might stop. She needed this, she needed him to make her come. "It's like I was meant to be your bitch, sir. Meant to be used by you, a fuck toy, a fleshlight, a sex slave."

"You were, bitch," he said, and she nodded, glad to have pleased him with her words. For Conrad, it was so unbelievably sweet to watch the once haughty fae princess beg and whimper, to watch her degrade herself and beg him to degrade her further. "This is where you really belong. This is your true purpose. Being my bitch." She nodded again. She couldn't speak, now. She was so close, her breath came out in gasps and pants, she was barely aware of what Conrad was saying, but she knew she had to agree with him, no matter what he said. It was the only thing that would satisfy him, that would make him satisfy her. "You're allowed to come now, bitch." He paused for a moment, drinking in the effect his words had on her. "Come for me."

She came, her knees shaking, losing her balance. She slumped down as she did, Conrad letting her fall to her hands and knees, quivering in pleasure, the edge of her vision going black. She couldn't see, couldn't think of anything besides the pleasure, it was so pure, so good; it was the best it had ever been. He watched as she held herself on the floor, powerless, useless, lost in a haze of meaningless pleasure. When her breath finally caught, her words didn't even surprise him. "Thank you, sir," she said, looking up at him, meeting his eyes.

"Don't thank me," he said, wrapping his fingers around her hair, the sharp red tresses wrapped around his fingers as he drew her close to him, pressing her cheek against the bulge in his pants. Her eyes lidded when she felt its warmth, its hardness. She knew she had pleased him, and she eagerly awaited him using her body for his own selfish pleasure; that thought made her gush anew, on her hands and knees. "Do your job, bitch. Get me ready to fuck you, and maybe I will."

"Y-yes sir," she stammered out, her hands coming up, undoing his pants as quickly as she could, shrugging out his hard cock. She licked her lips, then pressed them against it, enjoying the warmth, the taste, the look of distant pleasure on Conrad's face as she kissed his erection. "Sorry sir." She wrapped her lips around his head and pressed herself down until her nose was in his pubes, his cock buried deep in her throat. The feeling of its warmth filling up her throat made her happy, pleased, and she looked up at Conrad, feeling his heartbeat as it pulsed through his cock. She hummed, wanting nothing more than to please him, and it worked. He groaned, his fingers tightening around her hair.

He was enjoying the position of control, of power, over Dana, and he just drunk it in, watching as she pleasured him like it was the most important thing in the world to her. "You're a good little cocksucker, aren't you, bitch?" She nodded, smart enough to know that she wasn't to let his cock leave her mouth. "I bet you've got lots of experience sucking cock, don't you?" She blushed, her cheeks flooding with color, embarrassment mixing with arousal and making her a little more delirious. "Don't you, slut?" He asked again, yanking on her hair a little and this time she nodded, telling him the truth. "How many cocks have you sucked, slut?" She started to pull off his cock, hoping to answer, but he held her fast. "Use your hands. Or have you sucked so many cocks that you've lost count?" She shook her head. "Too many to count on your fingers?" She flushed deeper red, the cruelty and humiliation implicit in the question making her whole body shiver, and she nodded her head.

Her lungs started to burn, her missing breath finally starting to bother her. She couldn't breathe, not with his cock lodged so deep in her throat, and she was willing to take that, but it was starting to become painful, urgent. She needed to breathe, and she needed to do it soon, and she needed to do it even if it annoyed Conrad. She squirmed, muffled moans leaving her throat as she struggled against him, her eyes starting to tear up once more. He held her fast, enjoying the pathetic way she weakly fought against him, the desperation, the pleading eyes that promised the world if he would just let her take another breath. Finally, he released his tight hold on her hair, and she fell off him, hitting the ground, gasping for breath, breathing for the first time in what felt like hours.

"I'm sorry, sir," were the first words out of her mouth when she finished catching her breath and wiping at the spit on her chin. The more shocking thing to her was how sincere she was, how genuine and heartfelt her apology. She really was sorry she had stopped sucking his cock before he had told her to. "Thank you for letting me breathe, sir." Hearing those subservient words come tumbling out of her once-domineering mouth made Conrad's cock throb again, and he held her by her hair as he slapped her cheeks with his manhood, enjoying the lewd little sounds, the extra bit of humiliation it added to the whole affair.

"Open your mouth, bitch," Conrad commanded, and Dana's mouth dropped open without a thought, eager to obey him. His fingers wound around her hair, and he moved her head forward, wrapping her lips around his head. She got only a moment to look up at him before he thrust her down, filling her throat in a single breath. She squeak, subtly, and the pleasure coursed through him as he drank in the look on his bitch's face, the servility in her gaze as she looked up at him, not fighting against him. She understood her place, now, and they both knew it. This was where she belonged. That beautiful, flawless, airbrushed face belonged below him, and those unblemished, perfectly symmetrical lips belonged wrapped around his cock.

He fucked her relentlessly, using her throat like it was her needy, moist cunt, and she only grew hotter and wetter at the abuse. She took it, tears streaking down her cheeks as she did her job without complaint, willing to serve Conrad however he wished. She was no longer even worried that he wouldn't fuck her, that he would come in her mouth rather than inside her; she found she didn't care, that his pleasure was more important to her than her own. If only he wanted to come, only he would get to come, and that was right and just. She was just his bitch, after all. This was no more than she deserved.

For Conrad, heaping abuse on his new bitch was pure ecstasy, watching as she took everything he wanted to unload on her, no matter how rough or degrading. The way she acted as though her own will was completely subordinate to his. "Fucking slut," he groaned as he kept using her throat, and she just hummed her agreement. "Cunt. Bitch. Worthless whore." Every word made her nod or hum in ascent, made her pussy flare up with heat and electricity at the treatment she was getting. She deserved it all, and Conrad loved to watch her blush a little in humiliation each time she agreed with his foul words. "Fuck," he gasped out as he finally pulled her off his cock. "Put your cheek against the wall and stick out your ass, bitch."

Dana took a moment to do it, her legs unsteady, blood rushing back to them as she rose from the ground. She moved at his command, though, not wanting to disappoint Conrad, and she turned, facing the wall, pressing her cheek up against it and leaning so that her ass was presented to him. She could feel his hands on it as she stood there, sinking into the taut skin, and she was happy to know that he was enjoying it. Her bare, pale, tight little butt was a beautiful sight to behold, but Conrad could think of just one thing it was missing... he brought his hand down on the flesh, hard. "I'm sorry, sir," Dana said, speaking on automatic, her cheek still pressed against the wall. "Did I do something wrong, sir?"

Seeing her turned so mewling and pathetic was turning Conrad on even further, if that was possible. "Nothing in particular," he admitted. "Being born. Being a bitch." Her cheeks flushed bright red, and he could almost smell her juices spill out a little more in response. "Having your ass not be properly marked," he said, and he brought down his hand on her again, harder this time, the sharp sound loud in the small room, "with my handprint."

The abuse just made Dana hotter, her thoughts get more and more lewd, lascivious. Being treated like this, by him... it felt so, so, right. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," she said, sincerely. "Sorry, sir." There were all kinds of meanings to the word 'sorry,' and here it meant both that she was sorry her ass had not yet been properly spanked, and that she was sorry she hadn't tried to get him to spank her sooner. She more than deserved the treatment, the marking and marring of his hand on her flesh. It was necessary, appropriate; after all, she was his bitch. She was the slattern he deigned to fuck and that ought to be thankful for the privilege. He spanked her ass again, and that eerie mix of pain and pleasure coursed through her again. "I hope you enjoy it, sir," she added, quickly, her cheek still pressed against the wall.

"I did," he said, and it was true. He enjoyed hurting her, marking her, putting her in her proper place. She clearly understood, now, that she was his plaything to do as he pleased with, to abuse if it brought him pleasure. Which it did. "Turn around, bitch." She did, swiftly, turning to face him, and he pressed her back up against the wall, pulled her arms up over her head and held them together. "Tell me what you want, bitch. Be as crude as possible, or I won't fuck you." He wanted to hear her be forced to take an active and conscious role in her own degradation.

"I want you to fuck me with your big cock, sir," she said, without hesitation. Her cheeks flushed, but she needed it so bad, needed to feel him inside her again. "I want to feel your big, strong cock fill up my tight little cunt, sir, because I'm your bitch and that's what I deserve, sir. I deserve to be used as a warm, wet hole for you to fill, and nothing me. Treat me like the horrible trashy slut I am, because I want it, I need it," she begged. "Fill me up, abuse me, slap me, choke me, whatever you like, sir."

Conrad put just the tip of his cock into her greedy little hole and she whimpered, eager to be filled. He watched her expression as she rolled through pleasure and need and pure, raw, animal desire. Then he wrapped his free hand around her throat, his forefinger and thumb hooking around her throat, and thrust deep inside her in a single stroke. She squealed, beautifully, as he started to fuck her, hard, watching her with his eyes, watching as she enjoyed the feeling of him filling her up, taking her in a way she'd never been taken before. "You're my bitch," he hissed, his voice taking on an ophidian glint, animal desire in it. "You understand?"

"Yes sir," she moaned, her body bouncing. She was so hot, she had never felt this way being fucked, it was perfect. It was better than her wildest fantasies and worse than her most terrible nightmares. She wanted nothing more than to be used and abused by Conrad, and he knew it, and that fact made her all the hotter, made her sticky with sweat, made her cunt writhe around him. "Don't stop, sir, your bitch is very thankful, sir." Those words made him thrust harder, made his hand unwrap from its dominating position around her throat to slap her face. "Thank you, sir, I deserved that, too."

"That's right," he hissed, and this time he moved towards her, his teeth clenching around her neck, not digging into the flesh, but separating. A part of Dana was terrified, afraid he would bite down, but the rest of her was excited, her feelings intensifying. Her life was in his hands. All he would have to do was bite down and... she couldn't contain herself, her orgasm breaking out, her juices gushing as she came. He kept fucking her, kept his teeth on her neck, enjoying the raw feeling of power and dominance it gave him. When she came down, he pulled his teeth away from her throat to speak. "I'm going to come in you, bitch. I assume a slut like you is on the pill."

"Yes, sir," she said, her voice a little weak from everything he'd put her through thus far. His teeth resumed their earlier position on her throat as he fucked her harder, and she just took it, like a good bitch ought to. It felt right. Everything about it felt right to her. For Conrad, hurting her and using her felt right too; not just for the sexual dominance he'd established over her, but the feeling of vengeance, of setting things right, of restoring the scales to balance. "Please, come in your bitch, sir, I want to know that my body has pleased you, sir."

Conrad growled, the sound bestial, and wrapped his hand around her throat once more, making her choke and gasp as he cut off her air. Her eyes rolled up as he fucked her harder, nearing his own orgasm, enjoying the weak way she struggled against him, automatically. When he let his grip on her throat go slack, he spoke. "Don't tell me what to do, bitch." She nodded her assent, gasping and panting as she tried to catch her breath. Then he pushed himself deep inside her, squirting out his cum all over her insides. "Take it, bitch. Take my cum."

"Y-yes, sir," she murmured as he came inside her. Then he finished, and pulled away, leaving her on the ground, sticky with sweat.

* * *

In the interests of not negatively effecting the actual quest (i.e. making people fuck like crazy), this is the only Dana/Conrad scene I'll write. If the game wraps up with a Season Advance for both Dana and Conrad, I plan to write another one, set during the presumable timeskip.