Cry Or Better Yet Beg

"Cry , just cry I want to see you cry."he cooed in my ears and then he starts thrusting in and out of me angressively. I couldn't scream anymore as I was too weak to make a sound. my eyes transformed into a dam of water and tears blurred my vision pouring down my cheeks like rain. I was already feeling like a slave for him, cause I willingly submitted to his want. He wanted me to cry and that I did, cause I had no choice. As I jerked under him, I felt as though I was in torment, hell, purgatory infact anything worst. I wanted this to stop but it didn't. He kept thrusting in and out of me till I could no longer take the pains. Was this the sex people call fun? Or was he just doing this to turture me? Each pains he inflicted on me, made me feel his burning urge to get his revenge. Whatever my father did to him must be very cruel and it filled me with Guilt. I felt so guilty that I didn't want to beg him, cause I stupidly thought I deserve this. What happens when the daughter of the most powerful Alpha is captured by another Alpha and turned into a slave for the sake of revenge?

He loves me, yet he hurt me and resented me because of the sins I have never done. I believe, he loves me. Yet he gave up on me for someone else. I beg you , I'm begging you General Mark, FORGIVE ME!

“A ruthless man he was, wore a halo of insanity. He made death dance on his fingers like a puppet, wings of obsession made him soar high in cruelty. Crumbled to pieces was everything that came his way and he trampled upon beating hearts, but fallen, he was at his girl's mercy who made him feel and cry at fate's cruel play and had him beg for mercy with a single dart.” . . . A two-year relationship was torn apart by a single mistake when Delilah caught her boyfriend to be with another woman. The betrayal pushed them apart and Delilah learned to live without him. But fate played its cards when Delilah was brought back to her ex-boyfriend but this time, at his mercy. Shocked by the revelation that dawned upon her, she now feared him, and the more she tried to get away, the more he was tempted to keep her with him. Never knew fate would make her cry with tears of blood when she learned the cruel side of his ex-boyfriend who wanted to keep her captive. Vicious was his way of loving, after all. . . . “Why are you doing this to me?! What’s wrong I ever did to you!?” “Oh, sweetheart, trust me, you did so wrong by walking into my life. And now, I’m not willing to let you go.”

"You said, 'I love you' yet you cheated. Are you taking me for a fool?" Who would have thought that once upon a time, Helga refused to sign a divorce paper and beg for her husband's love. But on the day of their anniversary, she found him, standing with his eyes close...with a woman kneeling on the floor.

"Tell me you want me, too”, He grunted, trying hard to control, "Order me to kiss you, Airina.” "Beg me." "What?" She raised her hand to his cheek, repeating her words. “Beg me to want you.” === Jackson Miller Georgiñia is an outlawed man, and Airina was well-aware of that fact. Yet she still grasped the opportunity that was given - marry him. She believed he was a loyal man until she witnessed the back door. She discovered her husband was cheating behind her back. And not only that, he even had the nerve to divorce her. But everything changed after they met again - Jackson didn't want to let her go for he wanted her so bad it makes him frustrated if he hadn't seen her for a moment. Yet however she means to push her ex-husband away, he didn't simply follow along her terms....

She poured her heart out, yet he did not do the same. As infidelity befell her marriage, she was forced to divorce her husband with nothing left in her name. Overnight, she changed from the enviable position of Madam Larson to a pitiful, penniless wretch. She thought that she would not meet him again, yet fate played with her and they crossed paths once more. “Let me go, I beg you.”“Do you think I’ll do that again?”

I discover Quilton Fuller's affair before our wedding, so I lie to him about having aborted our child. He hates me for that and gets engaged to a woman who looks just like me. On his wedding day, he video-calls me, wanting to show me his bride. However, he's greeted by the sight of me bloody and battered after being tormented by abductors. I beg him to at least save the baby in my womb, but he says to the abductors, "You'd better kill her and her child."

Signing out of work after a hectic day, Nora's wish was to collapse in bed and sleep her numerous worries away. She had no idea her life was about to take a sudden turn though. She got a shock when she got roughly pushed into a car by strange men and driven off to a huge mansion despite her loud yells. Prepared to cry and beg for freedom where she was kept hostage, she was stunned when a man walked into the room, accused her of being a runaway fraudulent wife and vowed never to let her leave. All her plea that she had never been married fell on deaf ears. Nora realized the truth afterward: the man had a wife who looked like her and ran from him. She wondered if she would also be able to run away or have to pay for her unknown twin's crimes.

“I’ll make you beg and cry out my name, Father Hale. You won’t even be able to face the altar without remembering how you came apart on my tongue.” Vincente terrifying voice admitted curling around the crucifix at my throat as his rough, unforgiving fingers, pinned my wrists above my head against the cold stone. His thigh shoved between mine, spreading me open, and the heavy press of his cock ground against the thin barrier of my underclothes. My own answered before I could stop it, swelling shamefully through the fabric that clung like a second, traitorous skin. “Feel that?” he whispered, rolling slow, merciless circles that tore a broken sound from my throat. “That’s your body confessing louder than any prayer.” I tried to twist away, but the movement only dragged my hips harder against him. “Please,” I gasped, the word cracking open like a wound. “Vicente —God—” “God’s not here,” he growled, teeth grazing the shell of my ear. “Only me.” His hands slipped under me working on me. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, but the moan spilled out anyway, raw and ragged. “Say it,” he demanded, thumb circling the slick head until my vision blurred. “Beg me to stop. Or beg me not to.” A sob tore free as my body arched, chasing the pressure I hated myself for craving. “Please—Vicente—” He swallowed the broken plea with his mouth, teeth and tongue and the faint copper of my own blood. When he pulled back, his eyes glittered like black glass. “Oh.” He smiled, “You want me to continue?” And my last hope to get him stop chattered.

In my ninth year of being with Tyler Freeman, he flaunts his relationships with other women while I'm only allowed to come and go from his bedroom. He doesn't acknowledge me as his girlfriend, yet he allows his friends to address me as such. I have a name but not an identity. His friends are bored during a private party and want me to perform a strip dance on stage to liven things up. I expect Tyler to at least turn them down on my behalf, but all he does is sip his wine and say, "Go on. You're the owner of this place, aren't you? Aren't clubs supposed to satisfy their patrons' needs? Don't let my friends down!" I look at him emotionlessly. I don't cry or throw a fuss. Instead, I splash a glass of liquor in his face. The following day, I trash the club. Three months later, Tyler finally thinks of calling me. "Where are you? Aren't you gonna get the hell back here? Do you really expect me to beg you to come back? Do you think you're worthy of that?" I pull my newlywed husband to the camera. "Sorry, Mr. Freeman. I'm getting married. You don't need to come, but do get me a wedding gift." Unexpectedly, he threatens to show my husband intimate videos of me when he sees me in a wedding gown.