<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Name:</strong> Cheshire<br/><strong>Location:</strong> The Hatter's Hovel, Exercise Room, burning up alive.<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> Hatter<br/><br/>OhgodohgodohgodohGOD!<br/><br/>But she couldn't say, Oh god oh god oh god oh god, could she?  Noooo, because trying to talk might move that gods be damned vile thing he'd put on her tongue and there were little tears weeping quietly down her face as she trembled and looked at him with those imploring eyes, begging that he ease the pain as it blistered its way through her.  The small sounds she was making akin to a wounded puppy and they only got worse when he pinched her lips together, so that the scream came muffled and the cat struggled, groaning against her bonds trying to be free of him.<br/><br/>Merciful heavens but it hurt and he made her regret, anew, hanging on to that cord in the first place because her torso shifted and swayed in an attempt to escape the sudden blaze of heat he sent through those sensitive little nipples and frankly, were it not the grip that she'd on that cord she'd have ended up on her knees because her mouth flew open and she moaned, a broken sound laced with pleasure, drowning in pain as her hips gave a restless shift of desire.<br/><br/>All she could feel was the spread of it and it varied in stages of 'Burning' and 'Consumed' and it left her panting; that soft little tongue lolled free just as soon as he'd taken to crushing the vile thing in his hand so that she could pant freely in an attempt to at least ease some of the hurt and recover her tongue enough so that she could talk again without every little wiggle of it threatening to rock her to her knees.<br/><br/>"Hatter don't be mad," she managed, before the sound of her whimpers drown out her speech, her tongue recoiling as if he'd struck her.  The bow of that slender spine leaving her swaying there locked between one torment and the other, her fingers clawing at the electric wire, her cunt aching.  She imagined his mouth too, might help ease some of that steady burn there against her breasts but...he didn't look as if he cared to help at all and the things that he was doing with that pepper...<br/><br/>"Don't be mean, either!"<br/><br/>Because his disappearance around her side made her nervous and she'd seen tears in his eyes which had given her an entirely new set of worries.  The Hatter never cried. Not ever.  Not at all.  And she wanted to taste his tears.  Or collect them...for the Hare.  Or...<br/><br/>Did it really fucking matter?<br/><br/><del>The girl pushed herself up</del>, The girl tried to push herself up higher when his hands started tugging against the cheeks of her ass, too large those hands, too....like the rest of him.  So the sound that chirped past her lips then was small, small and delicate and full of terror.  "Hatter?"<br/><br/>And then absolutely nothing else mattered at all, because she could feel him against her in a slick rub that only made her squirm and try to wiggle back deeper which...simply introduced a new level of pain.  So what became a cry, became a shudder instead and when he finally thrust the thick length of his cock into her, every bone in her body turned to jello and she screamed herself hoarse for the tight vice her cunt made against him as she came. Fuel to an already raging fire.<br/><br/>"Hatter," came the little pant, as her hips thrust back to meet him, a tremble there in every breath, "Nnnh, fuck...<em>Hatter</em>...Hurt me." With his cock, of course.</span>