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Masturbation

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Painful Pleasure

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

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Harris heard Cupun's massive paws thundering her way at a deadly, languid walk down the hospital corridor before he saw her, although he did not quail into the bed as he should have. He should have been ashamed at how his heart leapt to the thought of her, the thickly-built malamute anthro rippling with muscle, the very creature that had put a mere man in his place. Of course, she could have perhaps have put him in his place a little more gently than she had, as she had left him so bruised and so battered that standing was not in the realm of possibility at that time, not that Harris minded.

Thud...

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Thud...

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THUD.

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The door creaked open, Harris had been lucky enough (or the hospital staff deemed his injuries serious enough from Cupun) to get a private room. Bruised and broken and beaten, he still could not help but moan up at the sight of the towering husky – no, damn it, she was a malamute! – her grey fur blending softly into the white as she smirked, clearly feeling no manner of remorse at all for what she had done to him. But that was the way of it and Harris would have been a stone-cold liar if he'd ever dared to say that he wanted it to be any other way, her presence forceful and dominating and everything that his kinky self had ever wanted from another in his life.

Of course, that side was not to last. It was fun but she would destroy him if he lingered around her, a fling that was tenacious and desperate and yet destined to come to an end. That was okay, he told himself weakly: it wasn't over yet.

Chuckling throatily, Cupun shook her head, seeming to take a very long time to swing her head from one side to the other.

“Well, well, well..." She rumbled. “Have you learned your lesson?"

He should have said yes. He should have apologised. He should have pleaded forgiveness. Of course, all he'd done was call her a husky but that was by the by after everything. Had he not already proven himself worthy of her by bearing through her torture? He'd lived, he'd proven himself... That should have been enough.

And yet nothing would ever again be enough to a man who craved the touch, however brutal, of a powerful anthro female that was so much larger than him. Once one went dog, they never went back – well, that was the corrupted, twisted saying that he was going with, even though he knew that it had its roots in others times and places that should never again be revisited by mankind. Anthros and humans had to find some ways to work together, of course, and he wanted nothing more than to be forced won onto his knees before one, heaving and panting, eyes cast up adoringly to one that was so much better than him.

She knew it too. Cupun could not fail to notice the look in the eyes of one who was lost, towering over him, paws on her hips and tongue lolling out cruelly.

“No..."

The whisper came out in a hiss, his cock flushing full of blood, thick and hard and rampant in but a moment. It tented up the thin sheet that the hospital had allowed for his bed – he supposed there was some reason that they didn't use duvets there, although he'd never once in his life thought to ask that particular question of anyone – and could not be denied. Anyone passing by could have seen what was happening but Cupun didn't care either, leaving the door wide open behind her as she seated herself on his narrow, little bed with a grunt that denoted entirely more effort than necessary.

“Unff..."

A groan was not needed either but she ripped the sheet from him as if there was no care at all to be given to either his body or his comfort, smirking as her jacket tightened over her breasts and board chest. The scent of leather filled the room and he moaned, sinking into the bed, helplessly allowing her to do whatever she wanted to him as his pitifully small cock jutted upright before her, a tool that, truly, was not even worth her time. Rippling with as much muscle as a bodybuilder of perhaps the human inclination who was working up the levels, Cupun was far from weak but his light tone and muscle would never have been able to overpower her, even if she was female. And, oh, how Harris knew that that was the way culture was meant to be. Men were supposed to be stronger than women, more powerful, more masculine... And yet he would have said and professed that Cupun was, by far, the most masculine of the two of them and kissed her pussy for it too, the pleasure all his in serving her in any fashion at all that she desired.

Cupun was not into that, however. Why would she want such a weakling sexually? Ah, but she did so think she may just have owed him an apology, even if it may not have quite have been the one that he expected. Her paw closed around his dick, dwarfing the little member completely, and he grunted thickly in the back of his throat, driving her on.

“Eyes open!"

A command, yet again, that he could not resist, obeying instantly, panting with wild, wide eyes. Fight or flight kicked in and yet he froze in place, fingers digging into the fitted sheet covering the mattress, curling it up into wrinkles and lines, all of which would be tutted at later by those who came to make the beds in the ward. They'd say that he'd had a restless night, that they'd have to give him something to help him sleep a little better, but no one would be any the wiser as to the particular kind of visitor he'd had there and the lustful passion she'd induced in him so very kindly.

Still, there was nothing kind about how she pumped and stroked his cock, gripping it roughly. Harris gasped and twisted but that only served to goad her on more and more, squeezing harder – so hard, in fact, that he convulsed, sick nausea rising up and up from his gut.

“No!"

That was what he meant to say but no words came out, eyes bugging out and lips working, moving soundlessly. And, still, his stomach churned as she bore down more and more, taking a sick sense of pleasure from how his flesh threatened to pop beneath her fingers. Could she make him shoot his load like that? Oh, it was an apology still, he'd have his fun, but she would not push quite that far when there was so much yet left of him to toy with.

Her paw slipped down and Harris gasped in relief, although not for long at all as his poor nuts became the target of her attention next, immediately so. Cupun could have slapped or pummelled or punched them but everything she did there was under the sick guise of pleasuring him, instead taking them into the palm of one paw – no one needed two paws to handle balls that small – and rolling them painfully around. Applying too much pressure, she snickered, mocking him with her eyes, somehow that humiliation even more biting than the searing pulse of bruising pounding through his dick.

His nuts were made of tougher stuff though, he told himself, howling even as his eyes watered, twisting and bucking, striving for release – the release of pressure and his ecstasy. Why did pain make it so much better and so much worse both at the same time? It was hard to say and yet he bore on through it, grinding and gritting his teeth, tears pouring wetly down his cheeks even as Harris begged her not to stop, thanking her, wanting her to keep going at all costs. He didn't even care if it ended up killing him, although he was sure, sort of, that the lusty malamute dominant bitch would never go that far.

Would she? Could he say?

Harris' head rolled, tipping back against the pillows as her other paw closed on his throat, tiring of his nuts. It was just as well as his cock twitched and spilt out pre-cum, the ball-squeezing something of an erotic massage to the kinkily inclined, although the apology his dick was about to get would prove to be unlike anything that he had ever experienced before. His dick throbbed into Cupun's paw and she wasted no time in stroking it, that evil smirk plastered across her muzzle the whole time, his cock forced to remain hard even as more and more pain coursed through him, blinding out any sense of pleasure that may have been present.

Harder and harder, she pumped his length, working him roughly right from the get-go, although all Harris could think was that he was glad that she hadn't squeezed his dick to the point of no return or repair. Even then, he knew the skin was purpled and broken, bruised viciously, but his body responded all the same, pumping it full of blood as his hips tried to rock. Oh, he wanted it but he should not have wanted it, regardless of anything else. He knew it was wrong but it just had to damn well go and feel so fucking right at the same time, head pounding, a headache rising that would be nothing at all in comparison to the aches and pains left in the rest of his body.

It had to come, although he didn't want it to. What she was doing to him was nothing of an apology and yet the lusty malamute only had dominance on the brain, tail twitching, not even wagging. She would never sink so low as to show such obvious pleasure with a smaller, weaker human but Harris, she had to admit, was amusing enough in his own way, even though this would be the last time she saw him, at least for a while. The hour was late and hospital staff bustled by, no one even noticing what was going on as poor Harris was left there to bear through the brutal pound and squeeze and stroke of her huge paw.

“Ah... Uh..."

Grunt, grunt, grunt: could he not make a single other sound? Not when Cupun was there, dominating him, controlling him. Why, she ever forced him down, controlling his breath, face shifting as he gasped, lips wide. He could get some air into his lungs but not enough, eyes half-closed as if to seal his mind off against the lack of reality, pulsating and desperate for something that was no longer his to take.

No... Nothing was his to take. Not even his orgasm which was shoved upon him and came without a single note or lick of pleasure, cum painting her paw – just a few spurts and nothing at all like what Cupun deserved with a partner that could match up to her strength and might. But, of course, he had never been a partner to her, just a vessel that she could use and abuse without fear of any retribution, although, really, just who would have stood up to her in any case?

Battered and bruised, Harris slipped into protective unconsciousness as the malamute shook off her paw, cleaning it on his face and leaving a smear of cum behind. The true state of his aching dick – pained in all the wrong ways – would only be revealed the coming morning, but he would never tell the doctors and nurses just how he had come to be in such a state. That was not a story for him to tell, only to dream, the memory of Cupun as real as the scars on his body, the pains lancing through.

And he wouldn't have changed a thing.