Squatch (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 4)

by Candace Blevins

  And through it all, Squatch held me and massaged me and babied me, as if this was a medical procedure that had to be done but he was there to help me through it in whatever ways he could.

  It was horrible and awful, but he was gentle and caring. When he used soap to help clean everything out inside during one of the later large volume enemas, I screamed and thrashed in pain. He rubbed my face with a cool cloth, massaged my belly, and murmured phrases about how much it must hurt, and how he wished there was another way.

  When it was over, he handed me a sports drink with a straw stuck in it, and when I drank it, he handed me another.

  And then the next morning, after my morning spanking over his lap, I was placed over a large triangle-shaped cushion, my wrist cuffs connected to the front of my collar with about a foot of chain, and a spreader bar between thigh cuffs. Also, a chain from right ankle cuff to right thigh cuff — and the same on the left — so I couldn’t straighten my knees. And everywhere, he used a padlock. My traitorous clit pulsed and throbbed with the click of every damned lock.

  I wasn’t bound to the bed, but I wasn’t going anywhere, either.

  “I’ll have to completely destroy your ass in order to fist you. That isn’t my intention today, but if I ever decide to, we’ll have plenty of time before you have to work again, so I can take you outside and let you change and heal when we finish. My instincts tell me I’ll probably want to reserve that for some severe punishment, and yet, our agreement says I could do it just because I want to. No need to reserve it for when it’s deserved.”

  He started with two fingers, and I suppressed the squealing noise that wanted to come from my throat and chest. His fingers are fat. His hand is huge.

  He spent hours stretching my ass, until he had four fingers in up to his knuckles. I assumed that was it for the day, and then a felt a finger from his other hand stretching me more. Five fingers. Six fingers. Inexorably stretching me wider, wider, and wider still.

  I cried, and begged, and pleaded, but he didn’t slow or stop. No, that isn’t correct. He stopped a few times and handed me a tissue so I could blow my nose, then tossed it into a small trash bin he’d put by the bed before we started. He only needed to remove the fingers of one hand to do that, though, which meant the other still stretched me wide.

  And then, hours in, he showed me the biggest butt plug I’d ever seen.

  “The stem is as big as my wrist, so once it’s in, it’ll be like having my fist inside you. The bulb part obviously isn’t as big as my fist, but it’s large enough.”

  Squatch

  I’m almost embarrassed to admit how much I enjoyed stretching her ass until she cried and begged and blubbered.

  Two hours into the stretching, she was open enough I could’ve inserted the plug in two or three minutes, but I prolonged the agony, holding her ass so wide open she screamed while she begged, and I kept pushing it in — oh-so-slowly.

  And then, when it seated itself in her ass, I went up on my knees between her legs and fucked her cunt hard and fast. Not as a human would. No. I used every bit of my beast’s speed and strength, knowing it would be too much for her, scenting her distress layered over her arousal, and aware she wasn’t going to be able to orgasm.

  I’d been so careful with her the night before, and it was as if I needed to show her the other side of me today. Maybe that’s fucked up, but things were out of balance and I needed to put them back, so I fucked her mercilessly, and reveled in her tears and screams.

  And then, when I finally came deep inside her, my left hand on her hip, my right looped around her shoulder, it was all I could do to keep from collapsing on her.

  “Do you think you deserve an orgasm?”

  She spoke through her tears. “It isn’t for me to decide, Sir.”

  “No, it isn’t.” I wiggled the end of the plug and she yelped and jerked.

  I sat my ass back on my feet and admired the way her ass was stretched to accommodate the clear glass plug.

  “It seems like a lifetime ago, but back before the big battle, when we were a huge club, we lined six of our sweetbutts up and explained what was going to happen, and then had them flip a coin. Four got tails, the other two heads. The four that got tails were anal and oral only for six months. No one touched their pussy. The two that got tails were pussy and oral only, except they got their asses fucked one night a month, when they were tied up downstairs and had to pull a train. Twelve hours of anal, and then nothing for a month. Every fourth weekend, we tore one of their asses up.”

  I expected her to ask about the anal-only girls, who got their asses used and abused while their cunts were neglected, but she didn’t. I stuck a finger in her pussy and asked, “You paying attention up there?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “The anal-only girls were told not to play with themselves, but none of them lived with us. They all went home to their own places, and fucked whoever they wanted at home. It wasn’t as restrictive as we wanted, but it was still fun. Some of them could orgasm from anal, but some couldn’t, and they’d get so damned frustrated. I’d love to have an anal-only stretch with you. Three months, maybe six months, but it won’t work while you’re still going next door at Blaze.”

  I blew out a breath. “And that’s not my way of bringing up the fact you didn’t do that this weekend. This isn’t about that, it’s about me explaining something I’d like to do in a few years.” I wiggled her butt plug and asked the question I most needed to know. The thing she hadn’t told me, but I knew there was something she’d left out.

  “The anal-only thing won’t be as much fun with you, because whatever was done to you didn’t heal when you changed. They taught you how to clamp those muscles down, to give a tight fuck, but they also stretched you as large as they expected a dick to ever be. This means it was either done before you hit puberty, or they had another trick.”

  When a shapeshifter loses her virginity, that little piece of skin doesn’t return when they change. I don’t know why, but it doesn’t. However, the asshole heals during a change, which means you can teach the woman how to relax, but their asshole heals back with every change. It isn’t like fucking a virgin ass every time, because part of it is the woman knowing how to take a dick, and yet, it never gets as easy for them as it does their human counterparts.

  Another sob, when she’d mostly stopped crying. “Not like this. Please. Not like this.”

  I’d put the key to the padlocks on a leather thong around my neck. I pulled it off, removed her thigh cuffs with the spreader bar still attached to them, and then — as gently as possible — removed the giant plug from her ass. It gaped, and I knew moving her right away would cause more discomfort, but I needed her in my arms. Still, I leaned forward and removed the padlocks holding the chain to her wrist cuffs first, to give her a few seconds.

  I left the collar and other cuffs on, though. Taking them off at this juncture ran the risk of getting her out of whatever headspace I’d managed to get her into.

  Her ass was in the process of closing, and I rubbed her lower back a few moments before I unlocked the padlocks at her ankles and removed those chains as well. Finally, I tilted her sideways and into my arms, moved up the bed, and sat with my back against the headboard with my kitten cradled against my chest.

  “Tell me.”

  It was an order, but I kept my voice soft. Probably not gentle, because I’m not certain I’ll ever pull that off. Still, I didn’t think it was harsh.

  “Do you know what a pear is, Sir?”

  I did. It’s a device that goes in like a butt plug and then opens on the inside, so it can’t be removed. Most need a key in order to make them compact enough to come back out. Some, the stem opens up as well, so whichever hole they’re in is held open wider while the expanded pear is inside them, too large to come out.

  “There are a couple of designs. Which did they use on you, Kitten?”

  “It wasn’t that big when it went in, and then it was huge. The inside part g
ot big enough there was no way it would come out, and then the stem part was adjusted wider, too. Once it was in and big, only the person with the key could get it out.” She shuddered, and I wished I didn’t have to make her talk about this, but it was important. There was more, because a pear alone wouldn’t keep her from healing when she changed.

  “I didn’t know there were different kinds. How are the others different, Sir?”

  “It isn’t important right now. I can show you pictures later. How did they use the pear to keep you from healing, Kitten?”

  “It wasn’t solid silver, because that would’ve caused too much damage, but it had some silver content.” She took a deep breath, blew it out, and sucked in another. “I don’t think I can blame this one on Mike. From what I gather, someone long ago figured out the silver content necessary to keep us from healing the damage, but not so much to create the kind of damage that would make us useless. It burned like the fires of hell, but we never had it in longer than two hours a day. The inside part didn’t have silver content — only the part that held our asshole open. The stem.”

  I held her and petted her, and concentrated on reining in my anger. Mike was dead and couldn’t be killed again. Her father had been outcast and I wasn’t certain killing him was the right thing to do, though if he’d been within an hour’s driving distance, there’s a good chance I would’ve.

  I very much wanted to make the motherfucker wear a pear for two hours a day, every damned day, for the rest of his god-forsaken life, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t be allowed to jail him in the underground below our compound and assign this task to a prospect.

  Too bad.

  I could, however, make certain that Nathan kept these pears from being used on adolescent girls again.

  But I wasn’t going to demand they be destroyed. If a grown woman wants it used on her so she might one day be able to enjoy anal sex more, then that choice shouldn’t be taken from her.

  I had no issue with the concept, it was using it on a child I took issue with.

  “Did all the girls have to be trained this way?” I asked. I knew what the answer was going to be before she gave it, and it pissed me off even more when she confirmed what I’d guessed.

  “No, Sir. If he’s experienced, your first partner dictates what training you get. Some of them don’t want there to be any training at all, so they get a true virgin in all three holes. Others want gag training but nothing else. Most wanted us trained in massage. Those classes were always full. My first match would be inexperienced, so we were both being trained for everything except the actual event.”

  “Did you tell Nathan about the pear?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to demand she explain why she’d kept it from me, but I closed my mouth at the last second.

  “Is there anything else you held back that you’d like to share, Kitten?”

  “Are you mad?”

  “Frustrated. Irritated, even. I need to know what was done to you. What if I’d used cinnamon oil or a ginger plug, and the burning had brought back memories I hadn’t known about?” My turn to take a breath and let it go. “I can’t be mad at you, Kitten. You’ll tell me everything when you can.”

  Her outside arm skated up my chest and her hand wrapped around the back of my neck, holding me tighter. I pulled her a little closer in my arms as well, and leaned my head down to kiss the top of her head.

  “I have you, Kitten. You’re safe in my arms.”

  “I know. Your arms feel like home to me now. A safe haven, which is crazy after you just hurt me so bad, but I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

  “Part of me wants to apologize, but I don’t think I can. Last night and today...” I closed my eyes, trying to figure out how to explain it.

  “Balance,” she said. “I understand. You didn’t want to hurt me last night, but you had to. It wasn’t a turn-on for you. I mean, parts of it were, I think, but mostly, it was you trying to make me as comfortable as possible while you did this thing to me. It isn’t your kink, or mine, but it had to be done. Today was your kink, and you held yourself back for so long while you abused my asshole. When it was finally time for you to fuck me...”

  She touched my cheek, her palm flat against it, and somehow steered it down until our gazes locked. “Balance, Squatch. Last night, you took ownership of me in a way that I asked you to, even though you didn’t really want to. Today, you took ownership of me in your own way. It had to be done. We both know it. There’s no reason to apologize for either.”

  Kitty

  The day before we were due to have our conversation about how much control he could take when it came to my safety, I sat down and wrote out everything I wanted him to know.

  I pointed out that he comes and goes god-knows-where, and I never know anything, not even when he walks into danger, and I knew he put himself in danger all the time. I worry about him, too, but worry is part of life, and having one of his brothers permanently attached to me anytime I left the house felt too much like captivity.

  I’d resented Freckles running in the park with me. Even when he hung back, I couldn’t get into my run because someone was watching me. And then when I’d met Velvet at the mall for a manicure, Freckles had watched me from a bench in the mall. And he hadn’t been watching me, he’d been watching for threats. I understood that, but it was still creepy. It’d fucked with what should’ve been a fun, relaxing time.

  It wasn’t Freckles’ fault. He’d done everything he could to give me space while he kept me safe, but it rankled. Even in the ambush, I’d been able to run in the woods within our walls without being watched every second.

  However, I understood why Squatch was worried, and that I’d created some of his anxiety around losing me when I’d walked out of Blaze, intending to never return. For that, perhaps being taken back and forth to work, and to the grocery store, was penance. I could accept that, but I needed to be able to run, and to go to the mall with the other ol’ladies. We could work out a random schedule for where and when I ran, but he was going to have to be okay with me going without a guard.

  Khan had told me to condense it down, but I didn’t, I handed him the whole diatribe. I did follow his advice about walking away, though.

  To my surprise, Squatch wrote me back. Well, he typed it up and printed it, but still. It was unexpected.

  There were also diagrams and specs, and it didn’t take long for me to see that he’d found a line of bras designed to be trackers. They’d have to be charged between use, and the electronic bits had to be removed before they were laundered, but the idea was that they’d connect to my phone if it was available, and if it wasn’t close to me, they’d emit a signal that could be picked up within about a five mile radius, give or take, depending on the landscape.

  But the device did more than that. It monitored my heart rate and blood pressure and oxygen saturation, along with a few other things, and alerted Squatch at levels he could set. He intended to scare me when I was wearing it, and to monitor it while I ran at the park, so he’d know what levels to set it at that wouldn’t give him a ton of false alerts. The idea was that he wouldn’t have to constantly watch to see where I was, because the bra would alert him if there was a problem.

  There were normal bras and exercise bras in every shape and size. I’d be able to order what I wanted.

  Because if I were kidnapped, they’d get rid of my phone and purse, but it wasn’t likely they’d strip me naked.

  It felt like he was trying to find a middle ground — a way to keep me safe that didn’t make me feel as if I was constantly being watched.

  Unfortunately, this seemed even more invasive. He’d get an alert anytime my pulse raced. Well, not when I was working, but any other time I was dressed, basically.

  And then I read his final paragraph, where he told me again how scared he’d been when he’d thought he’d lost me, and how he’d been willing to do just about anything Brooke asked in order to beg for her h
elp. He told me he was open to other suggestions, and that he could look for other alternatives if this was a no-go for me, but he really hoped I’d be okay with it.

  I sat for an hour, considering whether I could live with it or not. Finally, I realized I wouldn’t know until we tried it.

  Since we were doing this via letters and not talking about it, I texted him.

  Let’s order an exercise bra and a regular bra and see how it goes. Two weeks, and then we’ll talk about whether to order more or to find a Plan C.

  Thank you. Let me know which two, and I’ll place the order. Is it okay if Freckles stays with you until they arrive? I’ll expedite shipping, but it takes them a day or two to ship, so it’ll be a couple of days even with overnight shipping.

  That was it. No arguments, no queries to be certain I meant it and was sure, just the questions necessary to put it into motion, and then the link for me to go to, so I could pick the styles and sizes I wanted.

  I love you, so I suppose I can put up with a minder for another couple of days.

  I love you too. We’ll figure this out.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Squatch

  I took complete control of her bowels for two and a half weeks. I had no interest in doing it long-term, but I needed to do it long enough to make a point.

  Once I thought the point had been made, I invited Frost over to help me install the enema nozzle in my shower. I could’ve done it without help, but it went faster with the two of us. He isn’t a plumber, but he understands the mechanics of it better than me.

  My house already had a whole-house filter to remove the chlorine, otherwise it would’ve been a little more complicated. The kit I bought had everything we needed, so it didn’t take terribly long to put it together and install it.