“No. Please don’t! I can’t do that again!”
“Eighteen. But naughty kitties don’t get orgasms, and you didn’t show good self-control. What would happen if you’d been a good kitty?”
“I’d get to come!”
“That’s right, but you were naughty.”
He pulled at the clamp on my clit, and I screamed and gasped. My pulse thrummed in my ears, my heart beat against my chest.
“Seventeen. What do naughty kitties get!”
“Frustrated!”
He chuckled and twisted the clamp until I screamed.
“Cute, but not the answer I was going for. What do naughty kitties get?”
“Ruined orgasms, Sir!”
It came out breathy, in a gasp, but it was enough, and he took the clamp off and rubbed beside my clit. His dick was still going in and out. Relaxed now. Just like his voice.
“Sixteen. Exactly right. They get edged and edged and edged and edged, but no orgasm.”
“Fuck, Frost. I can’t do this again. Please! I need to come.”
“Oh, I know you do, my sweet Cheyenne.”
“I’d rather be whipped again than have to do this. Please!?”
“Fifteen. I’m picking up on that, which is why we’re probably going to resort to this for consequences in the future. You make such a cute little denied kitty. Such sweet, sweet tears.”
He rubbed all around my clit, exactly like he does right before he gets me off. I was so damned close, with his cock going in and out of my already sore pussy. Spreading it wide. Taking what he wanted.
“Fourteen. Are you suffering, Cheyenne? Do you need to suffer more?”
He pulled out of my pussy and put his cock at the outside of my asshole.
My heart sped even more. My pulse thundered in my ears now.
He gave an evil chuckle. “Oh yes, you need more. Tell me you need more.”
“Please, Frost. I need enough to make me come!”
“Thirteen. I know you do, but you don’t get an orgasm, silly, needy little kitty.”
“I’m sorry! I tried so hard, but some of them hurt so bad!”
“Of course they did. The belt is supposed to hurt. Sometimes, the hand hurts, sometimes it caresses. Same with the flogger. The belt and the paddle though — oh no. They always hurt. At least they do when I wield them.”
He thrust hard into my back door and I screamed. He wasn’t all the way in though, so he thrust again. And again. And again, until he was buried balls deep inside me and my screams echoed back to me.
“Twelve. There she is, my little screaming lynx.” He pulled out and slammed back in, and my screams increased. His hand rubbed my clit. “Poor, needy little thing.”
He fucked my ass hard and fast at least a minute before he stopped again.
“Other people get to come when they want, but you only get to come with my permission, isn’t that right?”
“Yes. Please!”
“Eleven. No, not this time. No orgasm, no matter how needy you are. I know, it’s so hard, isn’t it? Here, lets help your clit along a little.”
I screamed when a different, meaner clamp bit into my clit, and then squealed when he grabbed my hip bone and pistoned in and out of my ass, fast and hard.
He was a little out of breath when he slowed a few minutes later.
“Ten. So close, aren’t you? And you get to enjoy being this close a little longer, before I take it away. Forever. You’ll never get this orgasm back. It’ll be gone. Lost. Denied.
“Nine. Gone, just like the last one, and you’re going to cry so pretty for me.”
Again, he hammered at my asshole with his too-fat cock and not nearly enough lube.
“Eight. Not long now, and it all stops. The clamp. My hands. My dick. Then you’ll get me off before the little kitty can even get started on an orgasm.”
It had to be ten minutes later before he made it to three, and I was already crying, knowing he was about to ruin the whole thing.
“Three. Do you get orgasms anytime you want, pretty kitty?”
“No! It doesn’t work without you anymore! Fuck!”
“Two. Admit it. You like being this needy, knowing I get to decide whether you come or not. Knowing if I decide you need to go a week, or a month, or maybe even a year without an orgasm, denying them even when you beg so pretty, I could do it. You like this feeling. Deep, deep, down.”
Did I? I didn’t think so, and yet, I couldn’t tell him I hated it. The words felt like a lie before I even said them.
“I don’t know!”
“Ah, truth. Interesting.”
He pumped in and out of my ass another dozen times.
“One.”
He flicked the clamp on my clit three times before he removed it, yanked his dick out of my ass, slid off the bed, and casually walked around the bed, closer to my head.
My clit throbbed and pulsed. Blood returned to it. Feeling returned. I screamed in pain and sensations, the orgasm even closer than it was, but still not reachable. I screamed in frustration, and realized his face was in front of mine.
“Zero. It’s so hard, isn’t it? Look at me, naughty kitty. Let me see it fade away. That’s it. The orgasm’s going away. Gone. Lost. You can never get that orgasm back. Poor little frustrated kitty.”
My hips moved in the air and he shook his head. “No, no. Don’t grind your hips. Be still. Let it fade. Look at me. Don’t close your eyes. Let me see the neediness fade away to nothing.”
“Please! I need. Fuck, Frost. Everything’s still throbbing and pulsing. It’s just right there. Please!”
He rubbed his cock. “Yes, I know it is. My naughty little kitten.”
It took at least ten minutes before it faded to nothing, and then he fucked me for nearly an hour in five different positions before he came deep in my ass, and he edged me the whole damned time. The rule is, I can’t come until after he does, when he’s been edging me.
When he finally told me I could come, I had clamps on both nipples and my clit, and his dick was down my throat while my head hung backwards over the side of the bed again. He had multiple fingers of one hand in my pussy, fingers of another hand in my ass — and both had more than I thought I could take.
And then he counted down from ten, telling me all the while about how good girls get to come at the end of the countdown, but they still don’t just get to come when they want.
This time, when he hit zero, he stuck his dick all the way in, froze, and said, “Come, Cheyenne. Let go and fall over the edge for me.”
I’m sure he said more, but once the orgasm rolled over me like a damned freight train, that was it. His hands kept ravaging my pussy and asshole, and I wanted more, and more, and more. I couldn’t breathe, but the panic seemed to push my orgasm higher still. When I thought it was nearly done, he ripped the clamp from my clit and nipples, and the surge of heat pushed it higher, and higher, and then my screams weren’t of frustration, but of bliss and release and ecstasy.
Chapter Sixteen
Frost
Oh yes. We’d be exploring the practice of lost orgasms in the future.
I cleaned her and then held her until she dropped into a sound sleep, and I wasn’t far behind. Damn, but this woman had nearly undone me with her need.
I barely awakened in time for church the next morning. I’d planned to wait another week to bring up Cheyenne, since we had so much to cover this week, but Squatch brought her up, explained his proposal, and told Mad Dog to bring it to a vote. Without any discussion, it was a unanimous vote. He’d talked to everyone ahead of time, and I loved him for it. He was looking out for me.
“Thanks, Brother.”
“Always.”
Mad Dog explained the test we’d designed for the prospects, explained we had more now than we’d ever had at a single time, and it was important we test them as a group more often than before, just to be safe. No one demanded it be brought to a vote, so it wasn’t. Easy as pie.
And then cam
e the officer votes. As expected, Dementor and Clean were voted enforcers. Mad Dog said we’d wait until after the first of the year to vote in a vice-president, and I had a feeling he was hoping Bobcat had joined us permanently by then.
He’d make a great VP.
When he brought up road captain, everyone wanted Mad Dog to continue with that job, so he let it drop. I figured a few of the third-level prospects would do a good job, eventually. Perhaps he had someone in mind for it.
There’s nothing quite like a motorcycle club starting up before a ride. It’d been even better when we’d had nearly fifty members, but now, with eleven members and nine prospects, it was still an impressive sound.
We followed Mad Dog east on Highway 20 a ways before heading south to the Talladega Scenic Drive. Eventually, we came out at the south end of the national forest, stayed on back roads until we hit Highway 65, and completed the circle by heading north, back towards Birmingham. However, we got off at the Oak Mountain exit and made our way to some land the MC had recently purchased. We'd bought it for the land and not the large warehouse, but since we hadn't demolished it, this was the perfect spot for our needs.
Mad Dog had told the prospects we’d have two follow cars today, the van with the sweetbutts, and a car with a special surprise.
And so, he led the two pro-subs into the warehouse, and I calmly helped him put partial bondage hoods on them. The hoods covered the eyes and top of the nose, but left the nostrils and mouth free, so the submissive could breathe. A bit gag kept them from easily forming words, but their orders were to beg for relief, to beg not to be hit anymore, and if Clean said they’d be understandable, I believed him.
Everyone in the room was a shapeshifter, so we could speak about it freely until we started filming. Mad Dog and Squatch had set up video cameras in several places around the warehouse to be sure we recorded all the action.
“Rules,” Clean told the prospects. “The zone is from five inches above the nipples to five inches above the knees on the front. The back is from the base of the neck to two inches above the back of the knees. Occasional kidney shots are fine, since they’re shapeshifters, but don’t overdo it. If you’re one of the first three people, don’t make them bleed. Four and five? We’ll see how they’re holding up, but it’ll probably be unavoidable. You each get twenty strikes of a belt, given in groups of five. Pause enough in between so we can mark them on the board.”
He looked around, and it seemed he met every prospect’s gaze. “Ya’ll have all figured out this is a test. You’ve seen us with the sweetbutts, but most of you haven’t had access to them. Today, you show us you can dole out measured punishments. Twenty strikes with the belt, and then fuck the bitch’s ass. No condoms today, so stay out of their cunts.”
Mad Dog stepped forward. “There’s a chalkboard beside each bitch. The order is important, so don’t jump the line. There are no safewords today, but Clean will make sure the rules are followed. He’s in charge — begin when he says, stop when he says.”
The submissive our cop would be belting was going to beg them to stop from the very beginning, through all five men. We’d given her the men we thought would be the roughest.
The other one only had four, and she’d cry and scream in pain as warranted, but wouldn’t beg for relief until her third person.
Each prospect was handed a note that said, “These women were found stealing money from the MC’s safe at the spa. We must make an example of them. Show us whether you deserve to be a brother in the Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club. Punish the woman before you.”
I’d worried Skippy wouldn’t be up to the task, but I needn’t have. He gave a measured response that made me proud. Not too hard, but he didn’t take it easy on her, either. And then he held one leg up and fucked her ass with gusto, tearing into her and taking his pleasure with one of the fattest dicks I’ve ever seen. I mean, sure, he’s a raven and they’re known for that, but damn, the little guy had it going on.
By the time we got to the final prospect, the pro-sub had deep burgundy stripes, some of them weeping a little blood, and many of them already forming bruises.
It wasn’t hard to make out her weak, “Please. No more. Please don’t. I can’t. Stop, please. Begging. Stop.”
But the prospect stepped forward and tore into her. Five all at once, a brief pause while Clean marked them, then the next five, another brief pause.
The final five, I thought we should stop him, but Clean knew what this particular submissive could handle, and he didn’t halt it.
The undercover wolf dropped his jeans enough to give it to her good, and once again, she screamed and begged for relief, but he didn’t back off.
Nine prospects. All had managed to pull it off, though to my mind, two men probably weren’t a good fit. One had been too rough, another had looked like he might be sick while he fucked her, and he hadn’t managed to come.
And, of course, the cop had to go. Today had been the first step of that. All prospects were front and center, so they did it without an RTMC member in the camera’s view. Clean had put tape on the floor, to show us how close we could get, though the official reason had been safety, so no one accidentally got hit with a belt.
Clean and Khan took the girls out back afterwards, and I knew they’d let them change, feed them, and send them on their way.
Meanwhile, the three sweetbutts were finally brought into this section of the warehouse, all wearing lone-ranger masks — one pink, one blue, and one purple.
Now, the men were given notes that said, “How much control do you have? You’ll fuck your assigned sweetbutt in the hole noted until told to swap, then move to the next hole, then the next. Once you’ve had a go in all three holes, you’ll jack off on her face, bukkake style.”
And then at the bottom, they had a notation below it like, Pink: ass, cunt, throat.
The timer was set for twelve minutes in each hole, so the men would be required to fuck for thirty-six minutes total before they could jack off.
Yeah, it would be an endurance test, but it would also look bad for a cop. The asshole cop never gave even a tiny pause. He dove right in, with gusto.
If I hadn’t been going to Cheyenne’s house that night, I’d have had to make an arrangement with one of the pro-subs. Thankfully, the kids weren’t at her house, so I could bend her over a kitchen chair and fuck her hard and fast within moments of walking in the door. I started in her cunt and moved to her ass, edging her oh-so-close to an orgasm, but I didn’t let her have one. I came so hard in her ass, it felt as if I stole part of her release. I had no idea if that was possible, but she went weak when I finished, and I felt energized.
We ate and then moved to her bedroom. This time, I gave my kitty-cat at least a dozen strong orgasms, and I hurt her so exquisitely for each one, it felt as if she left her body during the highest points of a few of them.
And fuck me, but every time I was with her, I fell for her even more.
Chapter Seventeen
Cheyenne
The twins decided that, for their birthday, they wanted to eat at an all-you-can-eat restaurant, and they specified that they wanted me and Gil there.
I picked everyone up from school and took them back to my house. I’d put several Happy Birthday signs up, so they were greeted with one across the front porch, one in the den, the kitchen, and another in their bedroom.
“If you’d just get a gaming console, your house would be the bomb.”
I suppressed a smile. Frost had shown up with what he told me were the best two gaming consoles money could buy — one for each boy. They’d be opening them with my presents, even though Frost couldn’t be here.
I’d told him he could buy one and give it as a joint gift, but he’d said a few games are available on one but not the other, so they needed to have both at my house.
He’d also provided a gift card for a gaming store, so they could buy games.
I knew this was going to tick Gil off, so I decided we’d do gifts
after we returned from dinner.
“Birthday or not, ya’ll need to do your homework so we can play later.” I pulled the bowl of already-peeled boiled eggs from the fridge, took the lid off and put them in the center of the kitchen table, poured three glasses of whole milk, and started cutting apples into slices. Why will kids eat them sliced, but turn their nose up to them whole? One of the mysteries of life.
“Nora, do you need meat?” It’s easier to control the wolf with beef and bison, sometimes.
“No. I’m good today.” She sniffed the island. “Eewwww. You and Frost had sex in the kitchen!?”
I rolled my eyes. “Manners, Nora. We don’t talk about shit you can smell that humans won’t know.”
“There are no humans here.”
“Yeah, there are four people in human form here, and while in human form in this house, we’re going to...” I sighed. “Your father can make whatever rules he wants in his house, but I’m raising kids who are going to live in the human world, and who will need to have human manners. So, you’re welcome, though you aren’t going to thank me for it until sometime in your twenties, probably.” Gil and I are mostly on the same page when it comes to parenting them, but in this thing, we’d agreed they’d just have different rules at home and here, and that would be okay. They have different rules at school than they do at home, and that’s fine, too.
“It might be different if we could meet him. I mean, we smell him all over the house, but we don’t know who he is.”
Right, but that was her father’s doing, and I wasn’t going to disparage him twice in just a few minutes. I put the bowl of sliced apples on the table. “Homework. We’ll be leaving in two hours. I’ll be right back.”
I grabbed a sketch pad and my graphite pencils, poured myself a glass of wine, and sat with them at the table, but I checked out the boys’ screens before I sat. They were both working on a science paper. Nora had a pencil and paper, since she was doing geometry. I really hoped she didn’t need help.
I went to work on a sketch for a job I wanted to bid on — a mural on the side of a grocery store showing a ‘bountiful land of plenty’. I’d sketch it, then paint it, and when I showed it to the clients, I’d photoshop the painting onto the side of the building alongside showing them the actual painting on canvas.
Frost (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 3) Page 11