Chapter 24 #2
My inner walls flutter uselessly around nothing in front, aching from earlier, while this new fullness presses and stretches and owns. His thick ridge, inch by careful inch, creates friction so intense, it makes my clit throb without being touched.
"Play with yourself," he orders.
I reach for my soaked pussy and obey. Within seconds, whimpers escape me, and my other fingers twist in the sheets, knuckles white again. The deeper he goes, the more my body yields, the burn easing into a heavy, drugging stretch that makes me feel impossibly full, stretched to my limit and beyond.
Every nerve sings from my clit to deep inside until my skin feels too tight, too hot, every breath shallow and trembling. His hips press flush against my ass cheeks, over and over, until full-body tremors rip through my core and ripple outward.
He picks up the nipple clamps, and the sound of the chain echoes between us. He orders, "Hold the bars. Don't let go."
I reach for them and squeeze.
He attaches the clamps to each of my nipples. Tingles race down my spine. He resumes thrusting and tugs on the chain, dragging the cold metal in circles over my swollen clit.
Everything inside me fractures. My shoulder blades jolt up, and I tighten my grip on the bars.
The rough links bite into my oversensitive bundle of nerves, scraping and tugging in time with his thrusts, sending sharp, electric jolts straight up my spine.
My nipples throb in protest with every pull of the chain, the gold links swaying and yanking at the tender peaks.
Pain and pleasure tangle so tightly, I can't separate them anymore. Every tug on my nipples radiates down to where the chain grinds against my clit, every grind makes my ass clench harder around his cock, and every clench pulls a guttural groan from his throat and makes him drive deeper.
I grip the headboard bars so hard, my knuckles bleach white, forearms tremble, and shoulders lock. My breath comes in short, ragged sobs in half moans, half pleas, as the pressure builds low in my belly, heavy and coiling, impossible to hold back.
"Feel that sting on your ass while I'm buried balls-deep in this tight little hole? This is what it's like to be mine and want all of me, my little Bluebird," he grunts.
"Red—oh God—Red—" My voice cracks, high and wrecked.
He rubs the chain faster, rougher, the metal warming from friction against my slick heat. My clit throbs under the assault, swollen and hypersensitive, every pass of the links sending sparks that make my thighs quake and my toes curl.
He leans over me, chest pressing to my back, breath hot against my ear. "Come harder for me, Bluebird. Let it rip through you. Let me feel this tight ass milk my cock while you shatter."
My orgasm grows like a tidal wave, violent, all-consuming, and never-ending. My whole body seizes. My back bows sharper, hips jerk back onto him in helpless spasms, and my ass clenches rhythmically around his thickness in brutal, fluttering pulses that try to pull him even deeper.
A raw, broken scream tears out of me, echoing off the walls, as the chain yanks one last time on my nipples. The pain spikes bright and perfect, fusing with the deep, pounding fullness in my ass and the relentless grind on my clit.
Waves crash through me, one after another, merciless and welcome. My vision whites out at the edges, and tears spill hot down my cheeks but not from hurt. They're from the sheer overwhelming release.
"Red—fuck—I'm c-c-c-coming! Don't stop!"
"I'm not stopping. You're gonna take more of me!" he promises.
"Y-y-yes!"
He releases the chain and rubs my ass cheek.
He bites out, "Look at this red, glowing ass bouncing every time I slam into you.
I'm stretching your forbidden hole wide open, and your virgin ass tries to get tighter.
Fuck, Bluebird, you were made for this. Keep taking me.
Keep aching for me. I'm going to paddle you raw while I fuck the last bit of resistance out of this sweet ass. "
"Yes! Please!" I shriek, my inner muscles spasming wildly around nothing in front while my ass grips him like a vise, milking him in frantic contractions.
"Play with yourself with the chain. One hand stays on the bars, and the other better work that greedy clit of yours," he barks.
I obey, my legs shaking uncontrollably, thighs trembling, and toes curling so hard they cramp. Every nerve feels lit up, raw, exposed, with pleasure so intense, it borders on pain. But the pain's exquisite while indistinguishable from the ecstasy.
"You still want to be my fucking toy doll?" he asked.
"Yes!"
"Then you better not stop rubbing that delicious pussy of yours," he warns.
Another orgasm rips from my clit, while glorious, painful sensations shoot from my tits. He smacks my ass while thrusting hard.
True hell breaks loose in my body. Endorphins like I've never felt consume me, turning me into a shaking puddle, sobbing his name in broken gasps. "Red—Red—fuck—Red—"
"You're testing me today, Bluebird," he grits out, continuing the paddles and thrusts, creating pleasure and pain all over my body.
One high after another ripple through me, each one making my body jerk against the mattress.
The clamps tug, I rub the chain in frantic, messy circles that drag my climax out longer, deeper, until I'm limp and quivering, held up only by his arm around my waist and his thick length still buried inside me.
His voice comes out wrecked. "Fuck, Bluebird. Every time I spank you, this tight little hole squeezes me like it's trying to keep me forever."
"I-I-I am!" I declare, split open, stuffed, utterly possessed. The fullness is so profound, it borders on too much, yet I crave more, wanting the constant reminder that he's inside me everywhere, claiming the last untouched part of me.
Tears prick my eyes from the overwhelming intimacy of it, the vulnerability of letting him have this, and the way my body is learning to love the hurt because it's his hurt, his mark, his love carved into me.
He praises, "So fucking beautiful. My perfect patient."
"Yes. Dr. Mercer. Yes."
He changes the rhythm to a slow, deep roll of his hips that lets me feel every ridge, every vein, every inch claiming me. The paddle falls in unpredictable bursts. One light tap to tease, then a harder crack that makes me sob into the pillow.
His gentle glide inside me versus the violent bloom of heat on my skin is a maddening contrast. My whole lower body electrifies into nerves firing in chaotic harmony.
He keeps fucking me until I'm undone, beautifully wrecked, and every inch of me marked and buzzing.
Then his rhythm falters. His thrusts turn erratic, hips slam forward with desperate force as he buries himself deep one last time.
A low, guttural groan rips from his throat, raw and unrestrained, his fingers digging into the bruised crescents already forming on my hips.
"Fuck, Bluebird. Take it all," he rasps, voice almost gone.
His cock pulses hard, then his body shudders against and inside me.
Hot, endless spurts flood deep into my ass, each one marking me from the inside, filling me so completely, the warmth spreads, the pressure building until it's almost too much.
My body clenches instinctively around him, milking every drop, pulling a broken curse from his lips as he grinds against me, riding out the waves.
He stays buried, chest heaving against my back, breath ragged in my ear. "You feel that?" he murmurs, voice softer now, reverent. "That's me claiming you, every fucking inch. You're full of me, Bluebird. Marked. Mine."
I tremble beneath him, still stretched and aching, the heat of his release seeping deeper, a filthy, intimate promise that'll linger long after he slips free.
A long time passes before he pulls out of me.
I'm floating in the hazy, golden aftermath where nothing exists but him and the way my body still pulses around him like it never wants to let go.
When he retreats, the emptiness is different.
I still have his warmth inside me. The aches and adrenaline still linger.
He falls on the bed, tugs me into him, and holds me tight. He kisses me on the forehead and asserts, "I love you. You're never alone with your pain. You have me."
Overwhelming, aching, euphoric tears slipping free not from hurt but from the sheer depth of feeling safe enough to be this wrecked, this open, and this utterly his.