“Such a good girl,” he says, pulling the dripping gun out, a trail of saliva following until it snaps. My entire body locks when I feel the cool metal slide against my clit. I flinch against the foreign touch of an incredibly dangerous weapon. Pure terror washes over me, and it takes all of my strength to keep from full on sobbing. Holding a gun to my head is far less intimidating than it being held between my legs. A gunshot to the head is instant death, but this? This would be slow and painful. Torturous. He leans down, close enough for his hot breath to fan across my core. I lift up for a better view just as he looks up at me through long, thick lashes, his mismatched eyes sparkling with delight. Right when I open my mouth to ask what he's doing, he sticks out his tongue, saliva pooling to the tip and dripping off onto my pussy. "Can never be too wet, can you, little mouse?" Sitting up, he circles my entrance with the tip of the gun, the metal slipping against my skin. “Oh my God, please do—” This time, my words are cut off from the feel of him dipping the gun past my folds. Just the tip, but enough to close my throat, only allowing a startled squeak to escape. He laughs cruelly. ““You even sound like a mouse.” I'd snap at him if I wasn’t frozen solid. I can’t look away. I just watch him push the gun inside me, my rounded eyes barely processing what I’m seeing. What I’m feeling. Slowly, he works the gun inside me, drawing out both pleasure and pain. I clench my jaw, shuddering from his ministrations but refusing to make a sound. I won't give him that satisfaction. He works the weapon halfway in before the gun retreats to the very tip. I’m allowed a moment’s breath before he buries the entire barrel inside me. I suck in a sharp gasp and let my head fall back, no longer having the strength to watch. This is so, so fucked up. Beyond fucked up. But when the gun pulls out and sinks back in again, a noise does slip through as a wave of pleasure rocks through me. “Good girl,” he breathes. “Open wider, baby.” The hand still holding my thong to the side nudges against my thigh. Without thought, my thighs instinctively fall further apart. Another praise, but I barely hear it over the beating of my heart. “IT can feel how tight your pussy is. The way it grips onto my gun when I slide it out—so fucking pretty.” I bite my lip, but it isn’t enough to hold in the next moan. Or the one after that. I can hear the suctioning and slurping noises as he fucks me with his gun, and