Port and Pub

That evening, I set foot in the temporary berth I had reserved for two days in the harbor before taking the boat back to my family home, where I hoped to stay for a while to draw, but my unseen master probably had other plans.

I checked in at the harbor master's office, decided to let loose at the pub, and who knew, maybe I'd escape my terrible lover for at least part of the night. As a young, single woman, I got in without any trouble just as the party was starting. I was dressed in a sexy but sensible way; my dress reached my knees, moved pleasantly around my legs, and my cleavage didn't make me feel ashamed.

I decided to have fun and tried to forget for a moment what had happened to me up until that day. The pub's dim lights danced on the bottles lined up behind the bar as I walked forward, still sensitive between my thighs, each step awakening a dull throbbing where my Master had possessed me. The air smelled of cold beer and the sweet scent of cocktails, but beneath these aromas, I thought I detected a familiar note—musk and ozone, like the echo of a recent storm.

I was being hosted by nice young men who weren't immune to my charms, but clearly they weren't real men. The **** was starting to take effect. I went to the restroom, which was surprisingly empty. I urinated with that feeling of being watched, that shiver a woman feels when she's ****. I went to the sink and splashed some water on myself.

When I was pinned against the sink, I didn't see anyone. My **** was back.

- So, you're trying to escape me again? No luck.

I didn't have time to answer; he lifted my dress and sodomized me. The club's music drowned out my cry. His invisible hands crushed me against the cold sink, the porcelain bruising my hips as he filled me with calculated brutality. The music muffled my moans, but not the wet slap of our bodies against the tiled walls.

I was suffocating, my nails desperately clawing at the smooth surface of the sink as he plowed into me with a **** that made my knees tremble. My reflection in the mirror blurred, my cheeks scarlet, lips parted in a cry that the music swallowed.

He began viciously slapping my buttocks as he thrust deeper, pounding and impaling me.

- For every act of defiance, I will punish you more mercilessly,

said the voice in my head, his invisible fingers dug into my flesh like claws as he quickened his pace, each thrust violently propelling me against the sink. Pain and pleasure swirled together in an unbearable vortex—tears streamed onto the fogged mirror as my cries were lost in the deafening pounding of the music.

His hands moved abruptly up my back, undoing my dress, which fell to my feet, leaving me naked in the bathroom before tangling in my hair.

He pulled my head back, my red hair burning beneath his invisible grip, while his other hand slid between my trembling thighs. The porcelain of the sink chilled my stomach, a stark contrast to the bestial heat that pierced me from behind.

"You really thought you could escape?" the hoarse voice murmured in my skull, as his invisible fingers curled around my throat, barely cutting off my breath.

- No, please, I wanted to recover, to relax.

- No excuses. You belong to me. You must ask my permission from now on for any action.

He struck my buttocks harder and harder, each slap resounding like a whip crack, making my already sensitive flesh vibrate. The pain radiated in searing waves, mingling with the guilty pleasure that rose against my will.

"Ask," he ordered, digging his fingers deeper into my flesh, his blows intensifying until my buttocks crackled like embers.

I gasped, my lips trembling, my breath caught in the grip of his grip on my throat. "G-allow me…" I stammered, the words shattering under another slap that drew a hoarse moan. The pain radiated, sharp, delicious, each impact jolting raw nerves.

"G-allow me... to move... to breathe…" The words escaped me between blows that made my scarlet thighs tremble. His invisible hand tightened around my throat, tearing a gasp from me as his other fist dug into my hair, arching my back in agony.

The mirror before me dripped with warm steam, my reflection distorted by the brutal thrusts—mouth open in a silent scream, breasts pressed against the cold porcelain.

"Granted," he said as he came inside me with a cry of victory.

His invisible hand tightened one last time around my throat, drawing a stifled moan from me as his pleasure flooded inside me, burning, possessive. I felt every pulse, every spasm of his invisible body pressing against my back, his fingers buried in my hair holding my head back, exposing my throbbing throat.

As brutally as he had possessed me, he vanished. It took me a moment to recover; my buttocks and anus ached so much. I grimaced as I pulled my dress back on. The woman who walked in at that moment saw only a woman who had drunk too much. I left the club immediately.