Missing Ink
Page 23
“Yes, sir.” I lift my left leg onto the bed and roll up onto it, lifting my head so I don’t dislodge the blindfold as I move. Figuring he wants me in easy reach of the top rail, I scoot around until I’m lying the right way on the bed, with my head on the pillows and my hands up near the top rail. That means Mac either has to climb over me or go around the bottom of the bed to get into it with me. After setting a number of things on the bed and clipping my cuffs to the rail with what feels like a short piece of chain, he chooses the over-the-top route, rubbing his body all over mine and knocking me onto my back. He plants a hard kiss on my mouth as he rolls over me and like an idiot, I chase it once he gets on my far side. He slaps my tit lightly, jostling the clamps and making my nipples zing.
“Where’d I tell you to end up?” he growls, but it’s a playful growl.
“On my side, sir, but then you steam-rolled me flat with your man-weight.”
Mac laughs and kisses my ear. “You are such a smartass. Get on your side. I want that ass to know what’s going in it while I give that cunt so many orgasms it taps out.”
Fuck me. Okay then.
Mac messes around with the pillows until he’s got me where he wants me, with my right leg bent and propped high on several pillows, opening my groin to him. I shiver when the cool air laps at a place that’s normally shielded, but I’m not cold for long. Mac slides something slick into my pussy. For a dildo, it’s on the slender side, although it’s long enough to stretch me a little. I clench around it experimentally and immediately feel a tingle. What’s he put on it?
“Sir, what is that?”
“Ginger oil. Should start warming you up nicely.”
Fuck. Oh, fuck. Ginger oil kills me. It’s worse when it’s in my ass, but in my pussy I’ve got maybe fifteen minutes of sanity before I’ll be begging so hard for an orgasm that I’ll sell not just my first-born but also every child born to my children’s children for the next hundred years. The dildo’s not thick enough for me to really work against, either. I’m so screwed.
Mac’s heat slides in behind me and he nestles his soft cock between my ass cheeks. It rubs slickly and tingles.
“Sir, did you put ginger oil on your dick?”
That can’t feel good so soon after he’s come.
“I did, but I’m wearing a condom until I’m ready to take your ass. After I’m in, you can beg me for some ginger oil there as lube.”
My eyes roll behind the blindfold again. He’s absolutely slamming all my buttons. “Yessir.”
He chuckles and flicks a switch. An utterly evil hum fills the room. I know that sound anywhere. A Hitachi.
“Sir, I just came. My clit’s kind of sensi-TIVE—” I break off with a yelp when he lands the Devil’s own tuning fork right on my clit. “Fuck, sir!”
He nips my shoulder. “That’s right, girl. I’m fucking you. And I’ll be fucking you when your clit’s so sore you’ll scream if I blow on it. Wanna call me a geezer again?”
No, I do not. I shake my head and his wicked chuckle fills my ear right before he bites it hard enough to make me yelp again.
“It’s on the lowest setting to start,” Mac tells me, although it doesn’t feel like the lowest setting for anything but a jackhammer. “You get five minutes on each setting until you come. Then I’ll start back on the lowest setting again. I have a number in mind for how many orgasms I want out of that kitty before I take your ass, but I’m not going to tell you what it is.”
Fucking Dom. “Sir,” I whimper.
“Come as often as you can, girl. Don’t hold back on me, and I’ll see after a few good screamers whether I’m in the mood to take pity on you, but I wouldn’t count on it, if I were you.”
I don’t, which is good, because he has no damn pity. The ginger oil heats me inside, ramping me back up. The vibrator buzzes away on my clit. Mac doesn’t move it around the way I would, just finds a spot that makes me writhe and whimper and positions it there, wedged against a pillow, to pound the soul out of my fucking body. I somehow make it through five minutes without losing my mind. He clicks the wand onto the next setting, and I swear the thing rocks not just me but the whole bed. It’s already making me squeal when he pulls on the chain connecting the murderous nipple clamps, which shoots fucking fire through my tits. When I howl, Mac clamps his hand over my throat, a hard band across my windpipe. He doesn’t cut off my air, just gives me the headrush of all headrushes and I go straight over the edge, screaming as my whole body convulses. Mac rubs his cock up and down my crack with the most freaking evil chuckle I’ve ever heard.
“That’s one, girl. Gimme another.”
I shake my head because multiple orgasms and I are only distant acquaintances, but Mac’s not a Dom to take no for an answer. He keeps one hand clasped around my throat and with the other, reaches under my leg and pushes two fingers inside me around the baby dildo. That gives me enough to squeeze down on to throw me right over the edge again. It’s another full-body orgasm that has me thrashing against the pinion of his hands. I don’t just see white light; I see fucking galaxies colliding behind the blindfold. I can’t even scream. I grunt out my pleasure, sounding like some kind of farmyard animal while Mac growls, “Yes, that’s right. Give it to me, girl.”
I pant my way down from the shaking, blinding height. “Puh-please, sir. Lowest setting.”
He chuckles. “That too much for you, bold girl?”
It’s fucking torture now, like bees stinging my clit. Mac clicks the wand off and I feel a second’s disappointment that he wasn’t serious about seeing how many orgasms he could wring out of me. I wasn’t even close to offering him my first-born.
He pulls out the little dildo and the burn of the ginger oil eases. He wipes me with something cool and I figure the pussy portion of the evening is over.
I am so wrong.
I’m just starting to relax when Mac repositions my leg on the pillows and feeds something much bigger into my pussy. The burning tingle starts again immediately as this thing fills and stretches me.
“Sir! Oh, please, slow down, that’s too much.”
“I know it is. Take it, girl. Show me how much you want to give me those greedy holes.”
I do want that. A fucking lot. And I’m oddly impressed that he’s not backing off at all but kicking it up a notch. “Yes, sir. I’ll try.”
“That’s my good girl.” He takes it a little slower as he pushes whatever the bigger thing is into me. It’s a real stretch and I whimper as he seats it inside me. There’s a little tugging and then he pulls something around my waist and hip. I think it might be a dildo belt, because even when I push down against the thing, it doesn’t move. I feel spread so incredibly open and raw from my orgasms and vulnerable. It does funny things to my head and before I know it, I’m dizzy and trembling all over and coming painfully on this huge thing breaking my pussy.
“Sir!”
“Oh, that’s it my very good girl. Come all over that monster. I’m going to leave that inside you while I take your ass.”
I start shaking my head. I can’t take it now. I need it out. It’s too much. I need this to stop. I need him to stop. I need this all to stop. “Tuxedo, sir.”
“Tuxedo? Okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Mac immediately unclips the cuffs and nipple clamps and rolls me onto my back.
I shake my head even harder. That’s not what I need. “Please just take it out for a minute, sir. It’s too much.”
“Ah, okay. Easy, girl.” He pops something at my waist and then the thing is sliding out of me, much easier than it went in and I feel like I can breathe again.
Mac rolls me into his arms and even though I’m on my bad hip and my leg’s tangled in the Hitachi’s cord, it’s a good place to be.
“Do you need the blindfold off, girl?” he asks gently.
“No, sir. I’m ruining the scene. I’m sorry.”
He exhales warmly into my hair before kissing my forehead. “No, sweetheart. It’s okay. We’ll just take a breather.
Was that getting too intense?”
“I don’t know what happened.” My pussy broke. But it was more than that. Something in my head broke, too. “One second I thought I was going into subspace and then it hurt but not in a good way. It felt like heartbreak. I don’t know why. That’s not really right. I don’t know how to say it.”
He kisses my forehead again.
“It’s okay. Relax, girl. We’ll just take a minute to breathe together. You did the right thing using your safe word. I’m pleased with you, Bren.”
I rub my cheek along his collarbone. He’s sweaty, like he’s been the one coming all over the place.
While he holds me, he runs his hands up and down my back, over my neck and arms, and somehow that smooths out the ragged places inside me. I don’t feel so horribly raw and shaky and fragile when he’s touching me like this.
“I’m fine now, sir.”
“Good to hear, bold girl, but we’re going to take another minute here. Make sure you’re nice and steady. I’m not in any rush.”
Something unravels in my chest. Some tension that’s built, scene after scene, knowing the clock was ticking and that in an hour or two or three, the scene would be over, and I’d be going home alone. I sniffle and put my hands to my face to wipe away the wetness in my eyes before it dampens the blindfold.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Don’t be. I’m not. Do you think it’s weak to cry in front of me, Bren?”
Doms force tears out of me all the time. They’re pain tears. There’s nothing weak or embarrassing about crying in response to pain. It’s just a physical response. This is different. “No, sir, not when you’re flogging me or something.”
“And when I’m not flogging you? When I’m breaking you down with forced orgasms?”
I tip my face up to his, wishing I could see his expression, but I don’t want to take off the blindfold without permission and I don’t want to ask right now. “Is that what you’re doing, sir? Breaking me down?”
“Yes. I want in and your walls are fucking high, girl. But we’ve got all the time you need to let them down. Doesn’t have to happen tonight.”
“I, uh—” I don’t really know what to say to that. “I’m not trying to keep you out.”
He kisses my forehead and rests his lips there, breathing warmly into my hair. “I know. We’ll get there, Bren. Just let it happen.”
Let what happen? And where are we going?
“Um—”
“Quiet, girl, or I’ll gag you. Stop thinking for a minute or two. Just relax and let me hold you.”
Oh. “I can do that, sir.”
He grunts. “Ball. Gag.”
I get it and keep my mouth shut. My brain never really stops working, but there is a measure of peace as I cuddle against him and let my body settle.
I’m not sure how long he holds me for. I think I drift off a little. A sharp noise and Mac’s echoing chuckle bring me back around. “What’s funny, sir?”
“You’re snoring.”
“I am not.” Okay, that might have been the noise that woke me. Mac’s hard dick pressing against my stomach might also have had something to do with it. “Sir, do you—?”
“In a minute, girl. Stretch out. You’ve been sleeping on your bad hip. D’you need the bathroom?”
I roll onto my back and stretch as instructed. My hip’s a little tight, but not aching. My nipples are aching because those clamps are the work of Satan but saying so will probably only get them back on me and I’m hoping he’ll forget about them if I don’t mention them. “I think I’m good, sir. Maybe a bathroom break before we sleep?”
He chuckles. “You’re assuming I’m going to let you sleep.”
Weeell, I’m kind of hoping he will at some point. “I have this thing tomorrow where I stick live humans with needles. It’s good if I’m awake for that.”
“Difficult to spell R-E-S-P-E-C-T if you’re asleep, huh?”
“Easy to forget that pesky S.”
That gets me a full-blown laugh. “Okay, girl. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you get at least seven hours of sleep, but I want you up here on your lunch break. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you eat, after I have that ass over the back of the couch.”
“Deal, sir.” Easiest Dom-deal I’ve ever agreed to.
“Okay. I’m going to use the head. I’ll be right back. Would you like some water while I’m up, girl?”
“That’d be great, sir.”
He climbs off the end of the bed and pauses to untangle the Hitachi cord from around my ankle as he goes.
There’s taking care of your subbie’s physical needs during a scene and then there’s Mac. He’s not coddling me the way Logan does Emily. He’s just so freaking considerate. “Thank you, sir.”
“My pleasure, little goddess. Think you’re up for another round with the dragon dildo when I get back or do you want to start smaller and work up to it?”
A dragon dildo ? That’s what he was breaking my pussy with? “I’ll give it a shot, sir.”
His warm hand rubs up and down my leg. “That’s my girl. I love that you don’t back down from a challenge but know your limits and aren’t afraid to use your safe word. I really am proud of you, Bren.”
“Thank you, sir.” I can’t see the approval, but I can hear it in his voice and feel it in his touch. I’m kind of proud of myself, too. I’ve never had an emotional safe word before and although I have used my safe word a few times for emotional rather than physical reasons, I mostly haven’t needed one because I don’t let Doms get that far under my skin. Mac started digging pretty much as soon as we met and hasn’t stopped. He says he wants in. Do I want to let him?
I think I might.
His hand slips away from my leg and I hear him pad across the bedroom to the bathroom. While he’s in there, I take stock of my body. I’m tender in spots, but I’m not hurting anywhere, the way I would be if Mac and his dragon dildo had really torn me up. It was definitely more of an emotional freak-out than my body calling time.
When he returns, he slides a hand under my shoulders and helps me sit up, then holds a glass of water for me to drink. It would be easier for both of us if he took off the blindfold so I could do it on my own. But keeping me blindfolded also keeps me in the scene, and I appreciate Mac’s attention to not just my physical needs but also my headspace.
I tap my teeth against the glass to let Mac know when I’m done, and he presses a kiss to the top of my head before putting the glass down somewhere with a tink .
“How are you doing, bold girl?” he asks.
“Good, sir. I want to keep going, if that’s okay.”
“Very okay. Let’s get re-organized here. Lie back down on your side and put your hands in front of you.”
“Yes, sir.” I lie down in the position I was in and he immediately slides a thick wedge of pillows under my knee to lift my leg. “You’re really good at that, sir.”
“Organizing a scene?” Mac lifts my wrists and cuffs them to the rail above my head.
“Yeah, but more keeping me in the right headspace, keeping it flowing. There’s a rhythm to a good scene, you know?”
Mac hums. “I do know.” His warm breath brushes my cheek before he kisses the tip of my nose. “My experience might not be very wide, girl, but it’s pretty damn deep.”
I mull that over for a moment as he smooths his hands over me.
“Sir, I’m not sure I understand that.”
Mac chuckles. “You wouldn’t be impressed by how many different people I’ve topped, girl.”
“Uh, how many, sir?”
“Five, in total.”
Five? That’s like, one a decade? I know that’s not right. He probably didn’t start topping until his twenties, but, jeez, that’s not very many.
“Um, sir—”
He chuckles. “I know that’s a slow weekend to you, bold girl. But when I was married, I took my vows seriously. ‘Forsaking all others’ meant exactly that, at least to me.”
“Sir, I wouldn’t ever cheat. I mean, I know we haven’t made any vows, but you said that dating was one man, one woman to you and we could talk about a contract if things went well and I—I just want you to know that I wouldn’t. That’s not me.”
He pecks another kiss on the tip of my nose. “Thank you, little goddess. I’d already figured that out about you, but it’s nice to hear.”
I hear a light jingle just before he closes the Devil’s clothespin on my nipple. “Fuck, sir!”
“Mmm, that getting you back into the right headspace, girl? Stop thinking and just feel what I’m doing to you.”
“Yes, sir.” I let any thoughts of exclusivity, contracts, cheating, and his ex-wife go. He’s right that I shouldn’t be bringing them into the scene. Plenty of time to worry about them when he’s not putting nipple clamps on me. “Ow, fuck!”
Mac chuckles like a crossroads demon as he tugs on the chain and sends lightning zapping through my tits. “Nice and focused there, girl? These titties a little tender?”
“Yes, sir,” I grit out through my teeth as I try to breathe-breathe-breathe until the burn becomes manageable.
“Mmm.” He massages my breasts, brushing the clamps with his thumbs and keeping those little shocks of pain zipping through me even while I writhe with pleasure from him kneading my sensitive flesh. “You are a fucking delight, Bren. So responsive.” He slides a hand down my front and rubs two fingers into me. My pussy immediately begins to spasm around the thick intrusion and the ginger burn that had died away to nothing tingles back to life.
“Fuck, sir. Fuck-fuck-fuck.”
He growls. “I think this little cunt’s beginning to understand who it belongs to. Give it to me, girl.”
He fingers me to another howling orgasm and as I’m panting, shuddering, shivering down from the high, he climbs over me, takes out the butt plug, and notches that fist-sized thing at my opening.