The room was a symphony of heavy breaths, the air thick with the scent of sex and spent passion.

Madison, my queen, lay boneless and sated against the armchair, a beautiful ruin. But as I slowly withdrew from her warmth, a different, more frantic energy began to crackle in the air. It emanated from the woman beneath her.

Sofia's eyes, which had been glazed with a shared, satisfied pleasure, sharpened with an almost supernatural focus. The shy, clumsy woman I knew was gone, receding like a tide. In her place, the Little Ghost was rising, her expression shifting from contentment to a wild, feral hunger.

Before I could even speak, she was moving. With a surprising, desperate strength, she wriggled out from under Madison's limp form, scrambling onto the plush Persian rug on her knees.

Her whole body trembled, not with fatigue, but with a frantic, desperate energy. Her gaze was locked not on my face, but lower—on my cock, which was still fully erect, glistening with Madison's essence, a thick, veined testament to my relentless stamina.

"My turn," she breathed, the words a husky, possessive claim that was entirely the Ghost. "My turn, Peter. Don't be gentle. Don't you dare be gentle."

This was the transformation I craved. This was the Little Ghost in her purest form.

I didn't answer with words. I answered with action. I reached for her, my hands gripping her hips, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her waist.

I yanked her towards me. She gasped, a sound of sheer delight, as I maneuvered her onto all fours. Her back arched deeply, presenting her small, perfectly rounded ass to me like a willing sacrifice. The sight was incredibly lewd.

"There's my Ghost," I growled, positioning myself behind her. I didn't tease. I didn't prepare her with my fingers. She was already dripping, her arousal a slick sheen coating her inner thighs, her neat, pink pussy lips swollen and parted in invitation.

I guided the broad, purple head of my cock to her entrance. I paused for a single, heart-stopping second, allowing the tension to build, letting her feel the immense pressure against her most sensitive flesh.

Then, with a single, brutal, powerful thrust, I sheathed myself to the hilt in her tight, clutching pussy.

The sound she made wasn't a moan; it was a scream of pure, unadulterated triumph. "YES! FUCK! FINALLY! RUIN ME!"

Her body convulsed, but not in shock—in ecstatic welcome. The Little Ghost wanted to be ruined. Needed it. I could feel her inner walls, impossibly tight and hot, stretching to accommodate my girth, clinging to my shaft like a silken fist as I buried myself completely.

I set a pace that was immediately punishing. My hips pistoned into her with a hard, fast, brutal rhythm that had no finesse, only raw, driving power.

The wet, loud, staccato slapping of my skin against her ass cheeks filled the room, a rapid-fire percussion to her escalating shrieks. Each deep thrust was a full-body impact, driving her forward only for her to push back against me with equal, frantic force.

"HARDER! PLEASE! HARDER!" she begged, her voice already becoming hoarse. "DON'T STOP! BREAK ME! MAKE ME FORGET MY NAME!"

Her pleas were not for mercy, but for more devastation. I obliged. I gripped her hips tighter, slamming into her with enough force to make the muscles in my own thighs and back flex and burn. She was a wild animal in the throes of a frenzy, and I was the hunter giving her exactly what she craved.

"I'M YOUR GHOST! YOUR LITTLE GHOST! FUCK YOUR GHOST UNTIL I SCREAM!" she screamed, the words tearing from her throat between ragged, gasped breaths. Her moans were a chaotic, screaming whirlwind, were even more graphic.

"Yes! Like this! Tear me apart! Remind me I'm alive! Harder! Deeper! Nothing exists but this! Nothing but his cock destroying me! I want to be a messy, used ruin!"

I leaned over her, one hand snaking around her torso to cup and squeeze her small breast roughly, pinching and twisting her nipple between my fingers. My other hand stayed anchored on her hip, guiding the relentless, deep assault.

My cock plunged into her again and again, each stroke a harsh, maximum penetration that stretched her delicate frame to its limit. The sight of my slick, veined shaft disappearing into her small, tight body was a study in obscene, beautiful contrast.

"Please… mercy… no, wait, DON'T STOP! DON'T YOU DARE STOP!" she sobbed, the plea a perfect contradiction that encapsulated her possession. She was begging for the same annihilation she was begging to end.

I felt her orgasm approach not as a gentle wave, but as an impending earthquake. Her inner muscles began to clench in a frantic, irregular pattern around my pounding cock. Her pussy became a wet, hot, milking vise.

"I'M COMING! I'M COMING! OH GOD, I'M—AAAAAGGHHHH!"

Her sentence was cut off as the climax exploded through her. Her body seized, her back arching into an impossible bow, and a long, wordless shriek of pure sensory overload ripped from her lungs.

Her pussy clamped down on my shaft with violent, involuntary spasms, a series of intense contractions that tried to draw the very seed from my body.

I didn't stop. I drove into her through the shattering climax, extending her pleasure into a realm of pain and ecstasy that only the Little Ghost could endure.

I fucked her through the convulsions, each thrust prolonging the seismic waves of her release until she was nothing but a trembling, sobbing wreck. When the last tremor subsided, she collapsed forward onto the rug, completely spent, her body a beautiful, sweaty ruin.

I finally stilled, buried deep within her, feeling her frantic heartbeat thrum around my cock. The Ghost had been exorcised, for now. All that was left was Sofia, panting and utterly conquered.

I slowly pulled out. The sight of my cock emerging, slick and glistening from her well-used pussy, was a final, vivid image of her submission. She whimpered at the loss, a soft, vulnerable sound. I gathered her limp, trembling form into my arms. She nuzzled into my chest, already falling into an exhausted sleep.

"The Ghost is quiet," I whispered, holding her close.

As I held her limp form, the Ghost may have been quiet, but the embers of her need still glowed.

I carried her effortlessly to the large, sturdy oak desk that stood against the wall, sweeping a stack of papers to the floor with a casual brush of my arm. The sound of scattering pages was a prelude to a different kind of work.

I laid her on the cool, polished wood surface. Her eyes fluttered open, the feral light rekindling as her back met the hard plane. The contrast of her soft, spent body on the unyielding desk was a potent image.

"Again," she whispered, her voice raspy. "Don't let me stop."

I positioned myself between her legs, hooking her knees over my shoulders. This angle was deeper, more invasive. I could see everything.

Her well-used pussy, swollen and glistening, her inner lips flushed a deep red from the brutal pace. I guided myself back to her entrance, the head of my cock nudging against her sensitive, overstimulated flesh.

"This time, you watch," I commanded.

Her eyes widened, locked on the point where our bodies joined. I pushed forward, not with a single thrust, but with a slow, inexorable pressure. We both watched, mesmerized, as her tight opening stretched once again around the thick head of my cock, the pink flesh yielding gradually to the invasion.

A low, continuous moan escaped her as I sank deeper. "Yesss... see... see how it fits me... so full..."

I began to move, a slower, more deliberate rhythm than before, but with no less power. Each stroke was a deep, grinding penetration.

From this angle, I could see the slickness of her arousal coating my shaft with each withdrawal, making it gleam under the light. The wet, squelching sounds were obscenely loud in the quiet room.

"Your cock... it's so deep like this," she gasped, her hands gripping the edges of the desk, her knuckles white. "I can feel you in my stomach!"

The Ghost was fully awake now, her hips beginning to buck and meet my thrusts. The desk creaked with our movement, a steady complaint of wood and passion. I leaned over her, bracing myself with one hand near her head, my face close to hers.

"Who do you belong to, Ghost?" I growled, driving into her hard.

"YOU! ONLY YOU!" she screamed, her back arching off the desk.

I captured her mouth in a savage kiss, swallowing her cries as I continued to pound into her, the new angle hitting spots inside her that made her eyes roll back in her head.

The Little Ghost was being claimed on every level, her body and soul utterly conquered atop the cold, hard desk.

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