iZombie: Dom of the Dead

"Fuck me harder!" she wailed, looking as if she was fucking the mattress. "Every inch! Liv! I'll take every inch!"

"You'll take more than that," Liv promised her. And with a cruel smile, she triggered the remote. Holding it down for a full minute.

Gilda lost her breath trying to screams, going into violent spasms as the onslaught consumed her nerves, as her gorged sex erupted with white-hot fury, as she chattered incoherently and her mind went black.

Then she was completely limp.

Liv released the button, satisfied. She didn't think Gilda would ever be able to come again. Not as good as that, at any rate. She'd tasted the pleasure submission could bring her, and mind games like the ones she'd played with Liv and Major would never compare.

Gilda came to slowly, aware of Liv's soft breasts against her back, the massive potential energy seeming to pressure her tight cunt.

"I can't take anymore," she whimpered. "No more... I'll die... if I come again, I'll die. Please, Liv, take it out?"

For a few moments, Liv was tempted to keep going, but no. Seeing Gilda crying and whimpering for mercy was vengeance enough for her. She'd learned her lesson. And after all, Gilda was her roommate.

Carefully, Liv eased the strap-on out of Gilda's ravaged pussy. She untied Gilda, then turned the limp woman over onto her back. Gilda barely moved, sniffling and rubbing her chafed wrists. A little peevishly, Liv rose back up to sit against the headboard, Gilda's eyes automatically darting to her to see if she wanted further oral ministrations. Liv gave her a reassuring smile, though, and the tension left her body. She allowed herself to be manipulated, her head pulled into Liv's lap, opposite the dripping strap-on, and Liv petted her hair and stroked her back.

"Sorry, sweetie, but you needed to learn," Liv whispered, bent over her, and Gilda nodded, not really hearing her, just desperate to keep the music of that soft voice in her ears...

***

By the time Gilda went into work the next morning, she'd almost completely recovered from the ordeal. She wouldn't be wearing a thong anytime soon, no, but her panties only showed pinkened skin and her buttocks only smarted when she sat. There was no real pain. In fact, she found that the mild stinging was a bit exciting. A nice little spike in a boring workday. No wonder Vaughn kept seeing that chick with the ping-pong table, as he enthusiastically overshared.

Still, next time, maybe she'd have Mistress Zombie just focus on her tits. An ass at fifty percent was no blessing when it came to office work. She squirmed about, trying to get comfortable just as Vaughn walked through.

"Back issues?" he asked in passing.

"Yeah. Get off it," she replied.

"Told you, need a standing desk. Maybe a stability ball. With your cup size, you gotta be thinking about your spine."

"Worried about a woman putting all her weight on a ball? Projecting much?"

Vaughn went into his office as Gilda's phone buzzed. It was a text from Liv; a picture of Peyton Charles.

You gonna stop at Major or would you like to work your way through all my Facebook friends? 9 o'clock tonight. Wear that slut outfit you sent to Major's phone.

Gilda texted back immediately: Yes mistress.