<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Name:</strong> Cheshire<br/><strong>Location:</strong> The Hatter's Hovel, Exercise Room<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> Hatter<br/><br/>The young girl shuddered beneath his control, her breasts, much like the rest of her, glistening with beads of sweat born more from the sheer heat than exertion, though the latter had something to do with it.  It trickled down the curve of her spine and caught against the hem of her skirt where it was pushed up around her slender thighs.  With every jarring thrust her breasts bounced for the efforts her body and his force, the peaks of her nipples burning like the rest of her where he'd rubbed that vile 'treat'.  And yet...she loved him for it.  He made her whole and kept her balanced, for all that she suffered at his hands and balance was defined as just the right about of pressure there against her shoulders, the perfect grip against her hip to force her body to bow to his demand.  When she'd fall over, if it weren't for her bonds...that was balance.<br/><br/>The sound of his voice there so near her ear only made it worse too, for he shamed her with the very first line so that color fused her cheeks in a whispering tale of embarrassment and her hips twitched, cunt clinching even as she attempted to escape him and failed.  He was mocking her...mocking her pleasure and her pain, so that she trembled there against him, her cheeks stained with tears and the slick black smear of her mascara.  Her cries became whimpers then, in an effort to ruin his mockery against a bloodied lip instead.<br/><br/>The cat failed though, because his words conjured imagery regardless that could no doubt be felt in the tension that ran through her body, in the way her breath came quick and it took no more than his command, than the sharp bite of his voice against her mauled ear to have her writhing before him; pussy spasming in the throes of passion, "Oh fuck, Hatter...<em>please</em>," the cat all but whined it, "It huuurrrts, Oh Alice it hurts!  Fuck me harder you dirty old bastard, use me until it...." hurts.  <br/><br/>But it was doing wonders for the girl's inflamed little pussy, all the tighter for it where his hands found her throat and she cried out anew; a groan that came muffled but for that it's ability to convey her passion, her obedience in the way a body fractured not once, but twice in a wash of slick pleasure against his cock.  Staining her thighs.<br/><br/>Like a fucking bitch trailed to heel, she came over and over again while he filled her, his cum running down the tops of those slim thighs with her juices, staining his pants and her stockings.  But there came a sense of balm with it too, where the wash of his seed helped dilute the heat and ease the fire; even her face was turning blue there within his grip.  Her eyes had certainly rolled up because of pleasure and not pain, right?</span>