The Art of Obsession (Savage Stalkers #1)

Bonus Chapter

If you’re not a fan of pregnancy and lactation kink, then feel free to skip this part. I respect all kinks and all non-kinks. Simply do not yuck someone’s yum.

I had two very high-risk pregnancies with blood clots and a disorder that required TWO needles to my belly every day (now, you know why I have a needle fetish. I love acupuncture and tattoos, too.)

But I was also the type who had so many endorphins during my pregnancy that made me very horny. It was my big silver lining through the bed rest and all my weight gain. I had to continue the needle injections while I was breastfeeding.

I will never regret my daughters.

But I also acknowledge how hard it was to go through my pregnancies, especially when I needed two emergency C-sections to bring my girls into the world.

If this validates your pregnancy scars and inner desires, I am honored. If it’s not your thing, feel free to skip.

It’s okay if it’s not your thing. Let’s just respect one another and be human. Because this is my story, my vulnerability spilling on the pages. Thank you for respecting.

CALLUM

“Where are you, you fucking asshole?” Everleigh shrieks, and I smirk, loving how beautiful and vulnerable my wife looks blindfolded and bound in the gynecologist’s chair I specially ordered.

Her feet are spread wide, giving me full access to her pussy. My shibari ropes crisscross her abundant breasts—so full with the end of the third trimester of her pregnancy.

It took some doing, careful and cautious to get her in this position.

I’ve planned this since the moment I woke up in that bed and saw her little bump. Call me a sick and twisted bastard, this is mine .

After weeks of building up my strength, I insisted on a wedding. Though I desired a grand show, I abided by her desire for a small ceremony…with her parents as witnesses. Her gown was a vintage thing of dreams, something she’d always wanted, something I was all the more obliged to procure.

The reception was mine, so to speak. After the word of my leave of absence due to a life-threatening injury was leaked, my viral fandom was all-too- forgiving following my previous canceled tour.

My great comeback was one performance—live-streamed for the world.

I brought Everleigh to the aerial performance. I put her on display and painted her. My puppet. My doll. No hooks this time. But ropes all the same. Ones I controlled—followed by the artistry of blood-like paint. The crowds went wild for it. And like my goddamn Goddess, I had her bow beside me.

Everleigh is now as infamous as the God of Art—with every fangirl jealous of her position. Especially when I shared the news of our future child.

It’s been months since that night. Months of bedrest, months of her high-risk pregnancy with me jabbing two needles into her belly every day…

Turns out, my Little Quill has a blood disorder. The moment she expressed any discomfort over her leg, I ordered the greatest hematologist specialist on this side of the country.

‘No harm to the baby,’ was his first statement, which brought instant relief to her. And me. I maintained a strength of presence for her.

But my wife has the largest blood clot in the doctor’s known practice, taking residence in her left hip to her shin. I’ve spent the past two months carefully massaging it while injecting two needles per day into her stomach. Bruises mottle the flesh, but they are all the more beautiful to me as they express her endurance to carry our child.

Simple a bonus that her hormones have made her all the more sexually aroused. I’ve spent weeks satisfying her. Not that I’ve stopped playing with her—present circumstances testifying.

“Cal, seriously!” she cries out, writhing with the ropes. I’ve bound her hands to a rope connected to a hook in the ceiling. Complete access to her full, heavy tits. “This is a new level of sick and twisted…even for you!”

I chuckle darkly. “You’re nearly ready to pop. And you will not deny me this kink, Little Quill. We’ve already established—no fluids that come from your body are to be regarded as shameful. Not sick and twisted. Empowering. Arousing, yes.”

“I’m not a fucking hucow!”

“No, but it’s time for my beloved piercings to part from your beautiful nipples, my love. Too much a risk of a choking hazard for our daughter ,” I inform her.

She screeches, high and shrill, from my newfound spoiler. Of course, I did a blood test to learn the sex of our child. I plan everything to the barest, microscopic degree.

“Ugh, this was such an asshole’ey way of telling me, Cal. And do you ever get tired of being right?”

I smirk, approaching her with my crop, meant for arousing and stimulating—not for punishing this time. “No. Never. But I will abide by your decision, Everleigh Callum. And I am honored by your choice. Elizabeth Naomi Callum.”

I brush the leather crop along her skin, savoring how she hisses and how her nipples pucker. A bead of milky dew leaks upon her rosy bud, trickling down one red diamond. I am more than eager for my lactation kink.

I grow harder at the thought, my length turning to sheer steel at the thought of tasting her milk, suckling from those succulent breasts.

She is stronger than she knows. So, when she arches her neck, demanding release from her bonds, I bring the crop down, striking her dead center between her heavy breasts.

“Cal!” she cries softly, her hips lifting with her desire. I smirk at her wetness glistening on her upper thighs, painting her pussy lips.

I swing and strike her breast, stimulating one pierced nipple. And then, the other. They grow harder, puckering with desire. More milky droplets trickle from her plump tits. Pride fills me at her swollen belly, knowing she is pregnant with my child.

After reddening her breasts, I cast the flail away, mount her, and notch my cock at her slick entrance. Drive home.

“Unggg!” she moans, tightening all around me. “Cal!”

While she’s distracted, I remove the barbells, freeing her pebbled buds from the piercings. Once I safeguard the diamonds for later, I tug at her nipples, pulling at them, milking them. Lowering my mouth to her full breast, I take her nipple between my lips and suckle her breast milk, mashing her nipple with my tongue, flicking it, circling it, then doing the same with the other.

“Look at this plump, fat clit,” I purr and capture the distended flesh, rubbing it and working it while thrusting inside her.

“Cal, please!” She jerks, moaning, begging.

I slap the swell of one breast, smirking at the erotic sight of the tit bouncing, knocking against the other. She gasps, and I slap the other, growing harder from the jiggling flesh. I slap them both, and my horny, little sex glutton squeezes around my cock, her warm fluids gushing all around me. When I smack her breast again, milk spurts from her nipples, dripping down the plump, wobbling mounds—the flesh reddened from my hands. Everleigh cries through clenched teeth.

Jerking out of her, I tug on the rope on her wrists, wrench her up—big, milk-covered tits against my chest—and hilt deep inside her cunt. My heavy balls slap her ass.

“Let Daddy nuzzle your tits,” I croon darkly, lowering myself to her nipple, and sucking it deep into my mouth, rewarded by her sweet milk.

“Ahh!—please…don’t stop,” she whimpers, all her inner muscles tightening around me.

I stop, grip her hair in one hand, and knead her breast with my other. “What do you want, Little Quill?” When she doesn’t respond, I slap her tit again, growling as she shrieks. “Tell me what a needy slut you are, Everleigh.”

“Go to hell,” she spits out, but she snaps her hips, trying to seize her pleasure.

Denying her control, I pull out and slap her dripping wet pussy. All it would take is jabbing two fingers inside her or rubbing her swollen clit for her to come. But she’s also begging to be slapped and used in any way I see fit. More than ever, she will trust me with her pleasure and protection, knowing I still rule her now as I always have.

I land five hard strikes against her pussy until her lips are pretty, plump, inflamed. And alternate with soft bites at her nipples until she’s groaning and screeching in need.

“Tell Daddy what you need, sweet girl,” I command while rubbing the tip of my cock along her entrance, probing slightly while finishing, “and he will provide it.”

Her toes curl in the stirrups, and she gasps for air. “P-please just t-touch me. Fuck me, Cal.”

“Hmm…” I muse, tracing my tongue in a circle around her stiff, red bud. “Say, Daddy.”

Her lips part. A deep flush fills her cheeks and suffuses her breasts. She’s overthinking again. Arguing with her thoughts when her body knows what it wants.

“One little word, baby.” I lean in and scrape my teeth along her jaw, her hair still in my grip. “One, little kinky word that gets me hard without eluding to any taboo relationships. At the end of the day, you will always be my Little Quill, my wife, my goddess. So, just fucking say it, Everleigh.”

Hot tears soak the blindfold and roll down her cheeks. She’s on the verge of surrender, her desperation and desire more powerful than the degradation she feels.

A deep sigh, a heaving of her shoulders. And one little whisper, “Daddy.”

I dip my cock in, caging the groan in my throat from her soaked opening closing around me with strong suction.

Releasing her hair, I take her breast, massaging the heavy mound while rubbing my cock against her wet clit. “Daddy, what?” I lower my head, flicking her puffy nipple with my tongue.

“Ugh, you bastard! Daddy, please touch me, fuck me, drink from me!” My sweet wife arches her back and lifts her hips in her desperation.

“Are you Daddy’s milky little slut?” I close my lips around her nipple, sucking strongly as her milk trickles into my mouth. And sink one inch deeper without thrusting.

“Ahh, yes!—I’m your slut, I’m whatever you want me to be…Daddy!” she finishes with a loud gasp.

“Good girl.”

Now, I’m a beast off my leash. I fuck her harder, deeper, making her cry out until she’s pleading. She wriggles, trying to match my rhythm. She can’t, but her pussy sucks me in all the stronger. So damn perfect.

Her head is tipped, her eyes closed, but mouth open in utter bliss as I suckle from her breast, on her tender bud. I play with her other nipple, enjoying how she writhes on my lap, her breasts jiggling before me.

“That’s my girl. Ride my cock,” I growl, throbbing, thickening the more she moves inside me.

As soon as I’m close, I pull myself from her wet haven of a pussy, position myself at her ass, and slowly slide in—inch by inch, feeling her impossibly tight walls gripping me like a vice.

“Ahh, Cal…!” she groans from the pressure, and I fondle her breast, pinching her nipple and spurting more of her milk. “Too much,” she sobs.

“Take it, Little Quill,” I murmur, bouncing her on me, thrusting deep into her ass. Loving the sight of her sweet anus sliding around my dick. Her breasts swing in front of my face, and I can’t help but suckle more on her puckered nipple, drawing in her sweet milk.

I pause only to free her wrist and smirk as she clambers for her pussy, lowering her fingers to the space between us. “That’s it, sweet girl. You play with your pretty clit while I fuck your ass.”

I pull out to the tip, then ram back inside. Bouncing her on my cock, her breasts swinging against me. Her shrieks fill the air until they turn into moans as I pull her bud into my mouth, sucking and flicking her teat. Taking a vibrator from the nearby table, I press it to her slippery clit, rubbing it on the hypersensitive nub while driving myself into her ass—harder and harder until her eyes roll back in her head.

“That’s right,” I growl. “Come for me, my dirty girl.”

She clamps down, her hips slamming onto my pelvis as she comes. It’s all it takes for me to find my release and shoot my cum inside her. I stay here, our heavy breaths mingling as I feed on her breast, drinking in her milk as she milks me with her tight cunt.

Finally, I come out, smirking at my seed leaking from her ass as she’s still flush against me, panting. I kiss my way down her body, rubbing my lips along her full belly, imagining what our daughter will look like as I arrive at the heaven between her legs.

I spend the next hour of my life here, drinking her in, tormenting her, and showing her how she is my masterpiece…until she gives me her pleasure, climaxing with each lash of my tongue upon her clit. And every rub of the vibrator.

And then…I collect her fluids and begin a new art form—pussy painting. I’ll mix it with her blood. My muse. My art.

My art of obsession.

THE END