Writing this was hard, but I wanted to contribute a little bit of filth for all the wanking from home we’re doing at the moment. This one is a little darker, and features a queer couple struggle fucking – because sometimes orgasms help you fall asleep even if you don’t think they will.
Content note for consensual non-consent and breath play.
They sit on the end of the bed, giving into their tiredness for a second before they start stripping off. Before they can stand up again, their boyfriend is behind them, arms wrapped around them. He buries his face in their neck, and his voice is rough when he speaks.
“Hi little toy.”
They don’t want sex; they want sleep, but that’s not going to change what’s about to happen. But, of course, resisting is part of the fun. They try to shrug him off, but it only makes him tighten his grip.
“I said, hello little fuck toy.”
He’s wearing the shirt they sleep in, and they can feel his dick pressing against their arse.
“Is that my shirt?”
“Yes. I might give it back after I fuck you.”
“Not tonight. I’m tired.”
“Really? That’s cute. It a shame that doesn’t matter, isn’t it? It’s what I want that matters, and I want to fuck you.”
His arm is around their neck, and they wriggle against his firm grip. Maybe this is hot, maybe they’re turned on, but they’re not going to stop fighting. Not even when his hand bats theirs away and pushes into their jeans.
“You can struggle all you want – fucking you when you don’t want me to is so hot and you’re not going to fall asleep until I’m satisfied.”
He knows exactly how to touch their junk, and it’s all they can do not to melt into his arms. Surrendering might be easier, but right now the edge of anger is feeding their arousal. He knows that, of course.
“No, I want to go to bed.” They both know it’s a token protest at this point, but protesting is easier than admitting how much they want him to force them.
“Why are you hard then? You want me to use you, little fuck toy. You can say no as many times as you want, but I can feel your dick twitching in my hand. I’m going to make you take this.”
They don’t speak, they just keep trying to twist themselves out of his hold. In turn, he strokes them harder until they’re biting their lip to hold in a whine. It’s too fast and a little too dry, and their dick is so hard. Achingly hard.
“Pathetic,” he whispers in their ear. “I bet I could make you come in your pants and pull them down just far enough so I can force my cock into your arse. Your dick will rub raw on the sheets as I use your slutty little hole, and I’ll push your head down so you can barely breath, let alone get away from me.”
The words are to urge them to fight harder to get away, so they’ll struggle and struggle and he’ll still win. He will laugh at him as he rips the orgasm from their dick; he is laughing as they try to resist but can’t shake his hold. For a second they manage to get his hand out of their boxers, but he forces it back in and uses his legs to force theirs open.
“Think you can fight me? You think you’re going to escape? You’re not going to be so cocky when I wrestle you down so I can force my cock into your mouth. You’re going to drool and choke as I face fuck you, and you’re going to beg me to stop and I won’t. I won’t because I know you want this, you filthy little fuck toy.”
“Fuck you,” they choke out. They’re just words, but each of them is calculated to hurt them in a way that makes their dick even harder. He’s going to force them to come: they can’t stop that but they have to fight it. The too-dry hand on their dick hurts, the arm around their neck makes it hard for them to breathe, but it’s so hot.
“No, I’m going to fuck you.”
He pinches their foreskin, and suddenly it’s too much. They start crying, softly, but even though they’re facing away from him they know he’ll be able to tell. But instead of backing off – which part of them wishes he would – they don’t stop whispering the cruel filth in their ear.
“Tell me you want it. I’ll go easier on you if you stop struggling and just let me fuck you. C’mon, give in and I might even use lube when I work your ass open. I know you want me to use you until you’re aching and full of my come, so make it easier for yourself. Spit on my hand.”
They grit their teeth and shake their head. “No.”
“Suit yourself – I’m going to make you come whether you want to or not.”
His hand speeds up, and every muscle in their body is tense. It’s too much, too harsh, and his words are too mean. That’s not going to stop them from coming though. Unless…
“Please don’t make me. I don’t want this.”
“Your dick is telling me something else, slut.”
He tugs hard on their dick, and they moan as it squirts once, twice, three times into their boxers. They are breathless with the force of the orgasm and his hand is sticky with their come. When they’ve stopped crying, he kisses them gently.
“Thank you for that.”
“I know struggle fucking and a forced orgasm helps you fall asleep faster. Love you, my little fuck toy.”
If you liked this particular piece of filth, why not buy me a coffee? Your support helps me keep writing smut, especially on shitty weeks like this one.
Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a freelance journalist, sex writer, and professional transsexual. His work focuses on dismantling shame and queering sex.
