Indecipherable Scrawlings

The air is heavy with musk.  Forced into nostrils flared open by hard plastic that helps you resemble the succulent pig you are.  Trailing cords joining behind your head and moving down your glistening back to the cold steel hook resting inside you.  Supported on shaking hands and knees you gulp fresh air and as my rough fingers move gently through your hair.  My grip tightens pulling you down, filling your sense with your partner's hungry sex. The movement pulls the cord tight.  That unyielding metal hook driving a cold ball deep into your bowels as you carefully lick at the sharp, sweet juices mixing with the saltier taste of my precum. My grip forcing you down harder as I pump in and out of the pussy I loudly proclaim to be superior to yours. Then when the pain is almost unbearable you feel yourself yanked up, your open and gaping mouth suddenly filled with cock covered in her drippings. All you can hear over your own gagging is my contented rumble, "but you have such a sweet throat."

Leaving you gasping for breath in the brief moments you mouth is empty and nostrils not filled with the tickling strands of my pubes. Where just a moment ago your ass had been on fire you now feel your lungs burning. Nearly distracting you from the tongue playing lazily along your pussy and the fingers spreading your cheeks ever wider.

There's a word of command you don't hear and suddenly all your holes are filled. Cold plastic works around the tongue assaulting you and into your hole. Vibrations bounce off the hook and you feel your entire hip begin to shake. Your knees wobble as the lazy tongue begins a ferocious assault on your eager clit. You try to call out but only hum around my cock. One hand leaves your head and begins yanking on the hook rope, forcing the ball deeper as you try to expel it. Forming a rough rhythm with the vibe being carelessly plunged in and out of you.
 
Over your strangled scream you hear me again, "I know what you want slut"
 
I say this as I force my dick all the way into you
 
"I know what you need" I grunt
 
"And and I want you to..." another violent thrust punctuates these words.
 
"Cum!" I growl out as my seed spray down your throat.

I was talking to a friend whom recently learned about my social proclivities and was understandably curious.  One night after we'd shared a few beers he told me he couldn't see me as a Dom.  I smile too much, it makes my face seem kind he insisted.  This of course made me laugh and confused him, so I explained.

Imagine, I told him, being pinned against the wall.  An arm as unmovable as the cold wall behind you holding you as calloused fingers slowly tighten around your throat.  Your racing pulse pushing feebly back against an enclosing vise as you gasp for ever more precious air.  Then looking down along that arm to find my smiling and unperturbed face.  A face uncaring for your gasps, merely wearing the placid expression of one mildly enjoying some half-clever joke.  Smiling in a manner to suggest that completing my squeeze and crushing your windpipe will put no more damper on my day than a passing rain shower.

That I hypothesized to him is more terrifying than any grim face.  Judging by how he's stopped asking me questions he agrees.  Perhaps I shouldn't have been grinning at him while explaining...