Chessa could feel the bruises forming under his vice like grip on her hips. Unless he healed her, she would wear his bruises and feel the soreness from his grips for days and weeks. Grunting, groaning and moaning with every thrust, she needed something more to find her own release. However, she was sure he wouldn't give it to her.
"So then I should show and feel no pleasure? Happiness? Pain? I shouldn't feel, show, or experience any of it? How am I to do that when you evoke everyone of those emotions, feelings, and sensations? If I am defined by you and you alone, then I can't not show what you do to me."
To prove her point, Chessa struggled to keep quiet. She refused to make a sound, move and inch, or do a thing. If he wanted a lifeless doll to fuck, she would show him what that was like. Going limp in his arms, she waited for him to pull out.