Hunting Season Pt. 02 Big Game Ch. 02

"Oh god, please, please fuck me. Oh god please shove that cock inside me." She groaned. I pulled myself up her body and she wrapped her now free arms around my neck, kissing me hungrily despite the pussy juice that smeared my lips. One hand clutched at the back of my neck, pressing my mouth tightly to hers while her tongue thrust its way past my lips. The other groped for my cock, gently but insistently pulling me toward her snatch.

Who am I to argue with a beautiful Latino woman, I felt her nudge the head of my prick into her pussy and I pushed. Her cunt lips spread apart and I slid into her well lubricated cunt. She groaned with satisfaction as my cock slipped deeply into her body, burying her face in my neck and digging her nails into my shoulders.

"Oooohhhhhhhh, mmmmmmmmmm" she gasped and moaned as I slid back and forth, pulling my cock out until just the tip was inside then slowly pushing back in. I kept the slow steady rhythm and felt her getting more and more aroused as she bucked her hips underneath me, trying to get me deeper inside.

"Yessss, oh yesssss." She hissed and she pulled her arms out of the sleeves of er dress then slid them up over her head. I didn't need to be a psychic to understand what she wanted and I caught her wrists in my hand, pressing them down firmly into the mattress.

"Aaaaaahhhhhh" she groaned, tugging slightly at my grip while she looked up at me with smoky lust filled eyes. I groped her tit with my other hand, digging my fingers into her soft dusky flesh and pinching her hard nipple between my knuckles. She gasped, then smiled twisting her body to push her chest higher and pressing her tit into my hand.

I started fucking her harder, pounding my cock into her body and making the bed creak underneath us. She moaned and gasped encouragement, wrapping her legs around my hips as she lifted her crotch up to meet my thrusts. Her breath came in rapid gasps but I was getting tired, the strain of supporting my self with one hand held above her head was making my shoulder burn. She squealed in surprise when I pulled out of her.

"Don't worry, I'm not done with you yet." I growled as I pulled her off of the bed and flipped her over. She was kneeling on the floor, her chest pressed into the mattress and I pulled her hands behind her back wrapping my belt around them tightly.

"Yes, yes, take me. Please, take me. Make me yours, your, your..." she moaned.

"Your slave?" I whispered into her ear.

She shuddered in response; I had slid back into her mind and associated the words Master and Slave with the same euphoric rush of pleasure that she got from earning praise from me. She bit her lip, struggling against her ego, her sense of self, the same battle she had been fighting since my return. She didn't want to admit her feelings for me, that this is what she truly wanted. She was pushing back against the wind but getting weaker and weaker each moment.

Suddenly I was seated at a familiar table in a cozy kitchen, a vase of lilies and carnations was in the center. I was wearing grease smeared coveralls and could feel a couple days stubble on my cheeks. Grace sat across from me, her persona flickering from herself to Blackbird. Even her outfit shimmered between the white and yellow sun dress she was wearing now to her Blackbird regalia crackling with black energy.

'Hey kid, what's on your mind?' I asked gently, my voice sounding like her fathers deep gruff baritone.

'Who am I Dad? What am I supposed to do?' she pleaded, her face wracked with indecisive agony as she wrung a cloth napkin in her hands.

'What do you mean, your Grace Rodriguez. What's so hard about that?' I replied, knowing that she remembered her father being loving but not very insightful.

'That's what I thought too, but then I became Blackbird. I worked so hard, gave up so much to be who I thought I needed to be I never realized what I was losing. Then, then I met a guy, a guy who reminded me of who I used to be. Someone I thought loved me for me, not for my powers.'

She paused to scrub tears from her cheeks.

'But he betrayed me, used me to hurt my friends. He never loved me, he could manipulate my mind into thinking that I loved him. Then he left and I hated him, hated him for what he did. It was so easy, every day I was reminded of how he lied and tricked me. But now he's back, and I want to hate him but I can't.'

I leaned back, the wood dining chair creaking under my imagined weight just as she remembered it. 'Well, I understand why you hate him, that's easy enough. Why do you love him?'

'Because he's a good man, even if he does bad things. He risked his life to save a woman, a woman he had never met. He helped Xin and she loves him for it. He helped me find, find, love too. You wouldn't understand but just believe that I am happy, really happy for the first time in a long time. I wouldn't have any of this if it wasn't for him.'

I leaned forward, stroking the stubble on my chin to match her mental image of how her father looked when he was trying to work something out.

'So let me get this straight. You thought you loved him, but it turns out that the man you loved just tricked you into it. Then you hated him for it, but were happy about it anyway. Now, you have found out that this guy is really the good guy you thought he was, but feel bad about it? What do you really feel bad about Grace?'

She leaned back, crossing her arms furrowing her brow and setting her jaw in that stubborn childish way she had when she didn't want to do something. I let the silence linger, I knew what she wanted to say I could hear it in a whisper of her consciousness. She just didn't want to say it.

'Grace? You never lied to me, please don't start now.' I murmured in a soft voice.

'I'm being childish.' She replied softly. 'I want to hate him but now I know that while he may have deserved it then, he doesn't anymore. I just don't want to admit I was wrong. That I've treated him badly.'

'You weren't wrong Grace, he deserved all of the anger you had back then for what he did. You just need to admit that he doesn't anymore. He may not have changed, but maybe you have. Don't double down on a bad bet just because you don't like the dealer. Fold that hand and draw another, you just might get pocket aces this time.' I replied with that cocky half smile she loved to see.

While I am under the hood, I may as well fix the other issue she is having tonight.

'What else is bothering you Grace? I know there is something.'

Grace froze, then started to blush her eyes sliding off to the side as she fiddled nervously with the napkin in her hand. 'Well, it's kinda personal.' She murmured.

'Kind of the thing you would want to talk to your mom about? Sorry, I'm not her but I can try my best to understand.' I replied, Grace's mother had died when she was young, and her father had tried his best to raise a strong-willed daughter.

'This guy, the one I have been telling you about. Well, I, I kinda like to do things with him that, that seem to be wrong for the person I am trying to be.' She mumbled awkwardly. She flickered into her Black Bird persona, a dark avenging superhero and far from the submissive bondage loving slut I was trying to mold her into.

'Do these things make you happy, or are you just doing them for him?' I asked, leaning forward to take her hands between my dirt and grease etched fingers. The contact blurred the line between the Grace her father knew and her secret identity and the black gloves dissolved off of her hands. I squeezed gently, and her black bodysuit and mask started to fade.

'I like them, I do really. It just seems like I shouldn't, for some reason.' She replied hesitantly.

'Like when you thought you shouldn't like him, even though he made you feel good? Grace, you are a woman with your own mind, and you deserve to be happy. Stop trying to be someone you think you need to be and just be who you want to be, who ever that is.' Her father's image told her in the familiar reassuring tone. I leaned back smiling at her 'I know that whatever you are, I will be proud of you.'

She looked up, her persona solidifying into Grace Rodriguez. Black bird was still there, hovering in the background but the mental image was no longer overlaid as deeply. 'I miss you so much daddy.' She said tearfully.

'I miss you too jellybean.' I replied as the image faded.

I pulled back, barely a second had passed and my lips were still pressed lightly against her ear one hand curled in her hair and my cock poised at the edge of her pussy waiting for the magic word. She turned her head and looked up at me, her eyes glistening with tears.

"Yes, master." She whispered nervously.

I kissed her on the cheek. "Only you Grace, and only me, and only here, I promise." I murmured and she sobbed in reply, nodding her head eagerly.

"Please, please master. Fuck your slave, give me the gift of your cock." She groaned. I admit, I may have added a few key phrases to her mental lexicon. What's the point of being a psychic if you can't indulge a little. I pushed myself up, one hand still tangled in her long dark hair as I tugged firmly eliciting a gasp of surprise and pain. When we first were together I had triggered her to associate the discomfort of being dominated with pleasure and her pussy twitched in response, like an eager mouth searching for my cock.

I slapped her ass, hard. She flinched then groaned again, biting her lip in pain and pleasure. "Again, please again." She groaned and I indulged her, delivering a strong slap to her other ass cheek.

"Oh god, please, beat me, fuck me, do what you want to me, I can't take it anymore!" she wailed, halfway between a moan and a sob. I could feel the orgasm inside her, she was on the edge so close. Enough torture, there would be time for a more planned session later.

"Alright, slave. My gorgeous little fuck toy, I will give you what you have been begging for all night." I replied in a commanding tone then shoved my hard prick inside her quivering snatch.

"Aaaaahhhhh" she wailed, her bound hands clenching into fists in the small of her back as she tugged against my grip on her hair. I grabbed the end of the belt I had wrapped around her wrists, using it to pull her back onto my thrusting cock. Pain blossomed in her wrists and shoulders, adding to the arousal she already felt and pushing her closer to her desperately awaited orgasm.

"Oh god, oh god, fuck me, fuck me hard. Please, please I'm so close." She howled as she shoved her perfect round ass back against me, grinding her cunt hard onto my shaft.

"I'm going to cum. I'm going to blow my load and fill you up." I growled and she nodded desperately.

"Yes, oh god yes." She wailed as she squeezed her pussy, clamping down on the shaft of my cock. "Give it to me, now, now."

My grunted as balls tightened up and I felt my seed spray out of my prick coating the inside of her snatch. She gasped, feeling the hot jizz filling her, plastering her womb. She flexed her pussy muscles, milking my cock like a hungry calf until she came herself.

"Aaaaaahhhhhhhh" she wailed, her body shaking as every muscle tensed in response to the orgasm that exploded through her. I reached into her mind and dragged it out just as I had done with Chantal, making her cum over and over in rapid succession like a series of tidal waves crashing into a beach. "Oh God, oh god, oh god!" she moaned, unable to control herself as the pleasure washed over her again and again.

Finally when we were both completely spent, I pulled out of her and slumped to the floor. She squirmed off of the bed and lay down beside me, her head pillowed on my chest. Her dress was still tangled around her waist and hips, her tits spilling out of her bra as she squirmed to get into position with her arms still bound behind her. I reached down, pulling her up into my arm and kissing the top of her head.

"You were incredible." I whispered. The praise triggering another small rush of pleasure in her already exhausted brain.

"You were too." She murmured, then looked up at me with her wide brown eyes shining. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I have treated you so badly since you came back."

I cupped her chin, lifting her lips and kissing them gently. "I deserved it. I'm sorry too."

She snuggled down into my arms, a brief shudder going through her body. We lay there for a few minutes until the floor got cold and uncomfortable. I helped her to her feet and undid the belt that bound her wrists. She rubbed them, red marks showing faintly against her dark skin.

"Guess I will be wearing long sleeved blouses for the next little while." She said with an impish smile. I pulled her in and kissed her neck.

"Want to make it a turtleneck?" I murmured, biting her softly.

She laughed and pushed me back, swatting at my chest. "Leave me some dignity you monster." She said as she struggled to fix her bra and dress. She assembled herself to her satisfaction and pulled me in for another kiss. I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her tight as our tongues sparred in our mouths.

"Next time, I will be more prepared." I murmured.

"So will I." she replied, pushing back and giving me a sultry smile that promised a night to remember. She turned and headed out the door, one final toss of her hair as she strode confidently down the hall to her room.

I closed the door behind me, the smell of sex still lingering in the air. I let out a woosh of breath and wiped the sweat off of my forehead. I needed to hit the gym if I was going to keep up with that one I thought.

I stood in the bare room wearing my psychologist disguise as the guards brought Killer Clown, Connie Dee in. Even at the end of the 6' control poles that were fastened to the collar around her neck, the burly guards seemed nervous behind their masks. They had every right to be, she had injured three people since her arrival. The paper gown she was wearing crinkled as she settled into the seat and two other guards secured her wrists and ankles to the chair before unfastening the poles and stepping back to the corner.

'I like the updated wardrobe, but can I get a different colour? This is just sooooooo boring." She said in her childish manner.

"You had bright orange, but you almost killed someone with your pajama pants so sorry." I replied without making eye contact. It was still creepy looking into those bright blue eyes knowing what was going on behind them.

"Yeah, sorry about that. He shouldn't have touched my food, I am very picky about my food." She responded in an apologetic voice and a quick scan of her thoughts told me she even meant it. The guard had moved forward to take her empty meal tray but she grabbed him and wrapped the leg of her pants around his neck before anyone could stop her. Only a tazer got her to let go, all because she wasn't done licking the bowl of pudding.

"Well, I am glad you acknowledged that." I said, maintaining the persona as I slid my fingers along her wrist pretending to take her pulse and slid into her mind.

If anything, it was even more chaotic, louder brighter and busier. The crowds of thoughts jostled me in their eagerness to rush to the midway games. Wondering what had finally managed to focus her mind on something I let the wave pull me along and was soon standing in front of a dart throwing stand. I almost lost it and pulled out when I saw the targets were my face and I screamed in pain each time a dart hit. One hit my eye and it exploded in a shower of goo, I almost threw up in my mouth. The hammer strength test used my head as the target and I flinched as it was pulped over and over exploding in blood and brains only to re-form for the next participant. This put a rush on the therapy that's for sure.

I moved away, heading to the trailer with a plan in mind. I looked in the window at the familiar scene, her father sitting at the table as her mother fearfully laid his dinner out before him. He was just about to sweep it off in disgust when I took control of him, easier to do because he was just one aspect of her personality.

Instead of lashing out in anger, I held his hand in place then slowly lowered it to his lap. The image of her mother didn't react, but stayed there fearfully awaiting the blow. These were the NPC's of her mind, limited in interactions based off of the program she had written. How would she react if one of the most important ones suddenly changed.

'Connie, come out here please.' I called out, standing up from the table and moving into the hall. Connie Dee came out, her teenage self wearing what was to become the template for her Killer Clown costume. I saw the gun in her hand and she raised it to point where she had expected him to be while she looked for her mothers body on the floor. She paused and cocked her head like a confused puppy, this wasn't the script that defined her life.

I walked her father forward and she flinched as he approached. 'Connie, I'm sorry.' He said in a rough but soft voice.

She looked up, mouth open in shock and confusion. I took the opportunity to continue and keep her off balance. 'I have been a shitty father, and husband, and man. This life isn't a good one but it's not fair of me to take it out on you and your mother. You are the only good things I have, and I am hurting you. I'm sorry.'

'Daddy?' Connie stammered, her hands shaking and lip trembling with emotion.

I looked down at the gun the up into her watery blue eyes. Slowly her father slid to his knees then gently took the gun and pressed it against his forehead. 'Connie, I deserve this. For everything I have done I deserve this, but you don't deserve to be the person to do it. You are a good kid and you don't have to ruin your life just because you had a shitty father.'

Tears were streaming down her face, smearing her clown makeup. A snot bubble blew out her nostril as she sniffled with unreleased emotions. The hand that held the gun was shaking and I saw her finger trembling on the trigger.

'If this is what you want, if you want me dead for what I have done then I won't fight you. But if you can forgive me and give me a chance to try to make it right I would love you for it.' Her father said then closed his eyes.

For what seemed like forever we stood there, Connie Dee struggling to accept that the life she had lived for the last 10 years could change just like this. Then slowly she lowered the gun and it slipped to the floor with a thud from nerveless fingers. Her father reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his cheek to her stomach as I made him sob in relief and guilt. Connie fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his chest, her body shaking with emotion as well.

Her mother just stood there, her program had never been written beyond this moment so she had no purpose. I moved her over to the kneeling pair and had her join them, all of them crying in relief in the middle of the trailer.

I backed away and slid out of her mind. Killer Clown sat strapped in the chair, free of make up or outfit. Just a woman in a paper gown sobbing pitifully. "I'm sorry Daddy, I'm so sorry." She bawled as the gown became saturated with tears and drool. I nodded to the guards and we left her in privacy with her emotions. I think I had managed to tame her blood lust, but what was I going to do with her now?