Trapped By The Man-Bear

She felt the hot wet organ move slowly along the side of her throat and up under her chin as if tasting her. Markhan lifted and turned her slightly, moving his tongue down her body as he did. He lifted up one of her arms with his thumb and forefinger—she once again felt a sudden thrill of fear at his enormous strength. He could easily twist her arm off without so much as exerting himself. But now he simply licked his way down her arm and into the moist nook of her armpit, lingering there. She shivered, feeling the tip of his tongue exploring, tickling her, then moving across to her breasts, pressing against one, then the other.

He moved her closer, taking all of one breast into his huge ursine mouth. She could feel his huge sharp teeth pressing down into the flesh of her breast. For a terrifying instant she thought he was going to bite down, bite her breast off, but he simply pressed his huge teeth in just enough for her to feel the pain as his tongue and lips suctioned her nipple, then her entire breast with ferocious force.

She whimpered in pleasure as he repeated the process with her other breast, then lifted her up, moving his tongue down her body, across the curve of her stomach, probing her navel, and then down to the quivering opening of her cunt.

He lifted her up, propping her legs on his vast muscular shoulders, and she grabbed onto the thick furry expanse of his mighty head to steady herself as she felt him spreading her wide with his huge thumbs, pricking her inner thighs with the sharp tips of his claws as his thick hot tongue parted her cunt lips and push up inside her, probing her interior. It began to move in and out, reaching in to the depths of her channel, lapping her cunt juice, rubbing back and forth across the sensitized button of her clit with the rough friction of a huge cat's tongue.

Flushed with passion, her breath was coming hard and fast under the effect of Markhan's probing tongue. It plunged into her deeper and deeper. She could feel it reaching limits that she never knew she had, filling her up, expanding inside her.

Yes, that was what she wanted, to be stretched until it hurt. That pleasure-pain that pushed her beyond the limits.

"More, more, it hurts. Hurts, yes, yes..." she groaned, "Yes, stretch me, stretch me apart! Oh, oh, aahhhhhh!!!"

As she climaxed, she arched her hips against the man-beast's thrusting tongue, felt an explosion of her own cunt juice pouring out. She reached out, grabbing him by the thick velvet-soft ears.

He snorted, tugging her away and pulling her down the length of his body.

In an instant he'd tossed her down onto the furs on her back. She gasped in terror as the huge eight-foot bulk rolled over on top of her, threatening to crush her.

But the giant suspended himself over her on elbows and knees just above her body. He slid back, grabbing her beneath the knees and bending her long lean legs all the way back above her head, spreading her as wide as she could possibly be spread.

As he leaned back, she got her first look at his fully-erect cock. Her breath caught in her throat.

Fully erect, Markhan's cock must have been eighteen inches long and thicker around than her forearm, its head like a mushroom-shaped fist.

Leaning back, pinning both of her legs above her head with one huge clawed hand, Markhan grabbed the huge organ with one clawed hand and leaned in, pushing the huge cock head against the gaping pink opening of her cunt.

Even spread wide and prepared as she was, she hissed in pain as she felt herself being spread beyond all imagination by the huge organ.

Markhan lifted himself up and bucked his huge hips forward and the thick cock head surged through the outer ring of her vaginal muscles. She squealed in agony, her whole body shaking as he penetrated her.

His cock didn't stop but kept on sliding in. It was as if her whole body was being twisted apart from the inside as the huge impaling shaft pushed in.

Do to me whatever you want, she thought. Use me. Fuck me. Hurt me. You're the Beast but I'm not Beauty. I'm just "Pretty." A pretty thing you own. Own me. Fuck me. Hurt me. Hurt me.

At some point, the huge shaft began to move in and out, working its way even deeper as it did so. She could hear the slick wet, sounds of the cock frictioning in and out. The shaft filled her so thoroughly that even her own juices could only escape when the thrusting cock pulled out, and drew some of the overflowing juices with it.

"Deeper," she groaned, "Give me more, give me more. Hurt me!"

"Be quiet, stupid girl," Markhan snarled, as he cuffed her across the side of the face. It was the lightest of touches but it set her head ringing.

She put her hand in her mouth, biting down, as Markhan's cock continued to pound into her, filling her, stretching her.

It no longer felt like a cock fucking her. It felt like a fist, pounding up inside her clenching cunt, punching her hard against the cervix, over and over. And every punch was bringing her closer to a soul-destroying orgasm.

Yes, she thought, as she bit her hand to keep from talking—harder, harder, hurt me, hurt me. Keep hurting me!

And then she felt her cunt explode, an orgasm so ferocious that she found that she literally couldn't breath as the spasms shook her whole body. As Markhan's cock continued to pound into her relentlessly it seemed to multiply the spasms, as if the initial orgasm continued to build, driving her to a still more powerful orgasm.

She wanted to scream but she couldn't scream, couldn't talk, couldn't breathe. Her vision was literally growing dark around the edges. She wanted to—

A moment later she woke, found herself gasping for breath, found herself still lying beneath the great man-beast, his cock still pounding into her aching, excruciatingly spread cunt.

She suddenly realized that she'd passed out from the force of her climax—even as she realized that Markhan's cock was only just beginning to accelerate its thrusts, that it was, if anything, driving still deeper inside her, punching deeper inside her, driving her back up the sheer, hot, cunt-slippery slope toward that agonizing pain-triggered summit of orgasmic bliss.

This time she struggled to hold on. She could hear the man-beast's hot animal breath coming faster, in short, hard grunts. If she'd learned anything from a year's worth of fucking with Mister Hendricks' she'd come to know the signs of his on-coming orgasm, the faster rhythm, the increased breathing. The groaning, the urgency, the hard slapping thrusts. Markhan's climax was coming soon.

And this time, she wanted to cum at the same time. If only she could hold on. But the pain, the thrusts like fists punching into her insides, a pain that was driving her almost mad with agony and ecstasy. At every thrust she could feel her cunt muscles squeezing tight, holding onto the huge shaft like a wound holding onto a stabbing knife.

That's what her cunt felt like, she realized, like a huge open wound into which Markhan's gigantic cock was stabbing her. How many times? A hundred? Five hundred? A thousand?

More, she thought. More. Almost there. Almost there. Almost...

She struggled to hold on, to keep from going over the top as the cock pulled back and punched in faster and faster. She couldn't help but think of a boxer punching a punching back. That was what it was like, how the huge cock was ramming into her, like the fists of a boxer slamming into a punching bag. Was that what she was? What her cunt was? A punching bag?

Punch harder, she thought. Faster, harder, harder. Almost there...

And then the man-beast rammed his cock home and bellowed a terrifying animal roar.

She screamed at the same time, feeling his huge cock throb and twitch inside her as it spurted out vast jets of gism, filling her up to overflowing. Her cunt, responding with an overwhelming orgasm of its own, clenched fiercely around his shaft, milking it.

Markhan jammed forward once, twice, a third time, sending fresh jets of semen deep up into her womb, filling her, overfilling her. The overflow bubbled out of her cunt, dribbling down around his cock and down her thighs, trickling down over the twitching eye of her anus.

Markhan promptly sat back up and plucked his huge cock out of her cunt. She let out a scream of pain at the abrupt withdrawal. She rolled over, her whole body trembling, too shaken to stand, reaching down between her legs with both hands, shocked to feel how huge the opening still was.

As Markhan slid over onto the nearby furs, lying flat on his back, his cock, still erect, sticking straight up in the air, she rolled over onto her side, clutching her battered cunt, holding it tight as she felt the interior clenching, gradually resuming its more-or-less normal dimensions. She could feel the outer lips too begin to draw shut.

"Come here," Markhan said.

"Yes sir," she muttered, and began to crawl unsteadily toward the man-beast. She paused, too weak to move. He rolled over and grabbed her, laying her across his chest.

He spun her around so that her bruised cunt was turned toward his face. He pulled her up along the length of his body. She hissed as her sensitive nipples scraped against the coarse hair of his chest.

Then she felt him spread her legs, felt his hot breath on her aching cunt.

For once, she actually didn't want any more sex play. No more agony. No more ecstasy. She'd had too much of both. She was simply worn out. Of course, she knew that she had no choice in the matter.

She felt the giant's lips pressing up against her sex, the tongue probing. But it wasn't like before. Something else was happening. There was a kind of honey warmth spreading up inside her. Not like sex. This was different. It seemed to flow up through the tissues of her cunt and as it did, all of the pain, the cramping, faded away, until only that honey warm feeling remained, spreading out until it filled her whole body.

Finally, he let go of her. She rolled over and sat up on his broad chest. She reached between her legs, feeling her cunt. Strange that she felt no embarrassment at all about inspecting herself in front of this creature. Well, she thought, why should I? I belong to him.

She slipped a finger inside the damp interior and realized with a sudden shock that she felt tight, not just as tight as she had before Markhan's penetration, but as tight as she'd been before a year of steady fucking at the hand (rather the cock) of Mister Hendricks. She reached in further. She wouldn't have been surprised to find an intact cherry. But no. She was open all the way. But her cunt was tight and firm, ready to be used again.

Ready to be used the way Markhan just used it, she thought, and she could feel the juices start to flow.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"I healed you. Healed your cunt. But not your head. That's still crooked. I can't fix that."

"My head? I don't understand, sir."

"This wanting to be hurt. This is a crooked thing in your head. I cannot fix it. It does not matter to me, that you want to be hurt, so long as you do as I tell you. All pale women are stupid and know nothing but most of them can be taught. But do not look to me to do this thing that you want. To feed this hunger to be hurt. If you deserve to be punished, I will punish you, but if you do wrong because you want me to hurt you, then I will drive you out and you will die in the forest and no one will remember your name. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"I will give you your name now."

"Yes sir."

Markhan placed a hand on her shoulder. She shivered at the weight of it, at the hotness of the dry palm, at the prick of the sharp claws.

"Your name will be Stick. Just Stick. Though you do not see it, I see a hardness in you, Stick, a dryness that holds out the world. I will try to teach you, but I think one day you may break."

Stick swallowed, suddenly feeling tears stinging her eyes.

"Yes sir."

"You are very thin and your hips are narrow, not very good for having sons, and you are also very stupid and you don't know how to do anything, like all of you pale women but even so, I may be able to teach you and make something useful out of you. But this hardness in you, this I cannot heal. That which is born to someone, I cannot heal. And this hardness was born to you, Stick."

"Yes sir."

Stick slipped down under the weight of Markhan's hand, lying flat on her stomach across his chest. There are different kinds of whips, she thought. The kind that stops at the skin and the kind that goes all the way through. Stick had never felt a whip that went all the way through—not until now. It was a different kind of hurt and she suddenly realized that she didn't like this kind.

She looked back toward his cock, still standing erect, glistening with her juices, and his own cum.

She shivered. The whitish smears reached down a full ten inches or more on the huge dark, eighteen inch phallus. That much was up inside me, she thought. And soon will be again.

Next time, she thought, I'll take more. That would be better, a more familiar comforting kind of pain.

Stick slid down across the broad expanse of his muscular hair-covered belly. His slow steady breathing lifted her slightly up and down as she moved.

She came close to his massive shaft, reached out for it. She hesitated.

"May I lick your cock, sir?"

"Don't call me sir, Stick. My name means that I am master, just as your name means that you are mine."

"Yes, Markhan. May I lick..."

"Yes, Stick."

She slid down and wrapped her hand around the root of the huge shaft. She realized with a shiver than one of her hands barely went half way around it. She wrapped both of her hands around it, encompassing it, pressed her lips against the twitching puckered head.

She started to pump her fists up and down the smooth twitching shaft, slick with her own cream and gism, feeling the blood pulsing inside it, as she tongued Markhan's broad cock head, opening her mouth as wide as she could—no it could never fit inside.

But she could lick the huge shaft and she did, moving her lips and tongue and down the huge shaft, cupping his enormous ball sack.

She could feel a low groan coming from deep inside the giant.

Stick no longer thought about the terrors of the previous day, the plane crash, the death of Mister Hendricks nor even about the whole of the last year. The girl named Darcy Winston, whoever she had been, whatever life she had lived, seemed like a distant forgotten dream.

Now there was only a slim naked girl named Stick, not lost in the wilderness but here where she belonged, in the den of her more-than-human Master, Markhan, serving him, serving his mighty cock.

She had found her way home at last.

THE END