Nineteen #2
I snap my fingers, then show him the signal for red when he asks. He needs to make sure I know them before he takes away my ability to speak. Salivating at the thought of him thrusting deep in my throat, using me like he did on our wedding night, I rub my pussy against the edge of the bed.
His chuckle has me tensing in anticipation. “Stand up, my queen, and strip for me.”
Wincing, I wriggle off the bed. Both of my ass cheeks are frickin’ sore.
I wonder if he’s left a hand print, if they’ll hurt too much as we continue.
But when he takes up position on the bed, sitting naked on the edge, with his legs spread – I am happy to embrace a bit more pain. Fucking hel, my king is hot.
My eyes heavy-lidded, I watch him stroke himself. My lips part as I slowly slip off my clothes.
“That’s a good girl,” he growls as his eyes rove over my body before rising to my face. “Show me your beautiful tits.”
The bruises have become purple and green now, and the RM etched into my flesh is scabbed. I trace a finger over it as my ass throbs.
He groans as he jerks his hips up. My pussy soaked and aching, I let my jumpsuit fall to the floor. Stepping out of it, I then take off my shoes.
“Come here,” he demands, stroking himself faster.
I crawl onto the bed beside him, then kneel over his lap to suck his dick. He fists my hair with his right hand, raises his left over my ass. Holding my lips just off the head of his cock, he has me show him the colours again. As soon as I finish, he thrusts hard into my mouth.
I choke around him. My pussy clenches as tight as my throat.
I try to turn my head instinctively, but he just pushes deeper inside me.
My stomach churns. I snap my fingers. He holds me down.
I squirm as my throat squeezes around him.
His hand tightens in my hair as he thrusts his hips up. I snap my fingers again.
And again.
His hand slaps my ass, then he pulls my head up, my lips off him. I gasp in a breath. He yanks my face all the way up to his mouth and kisses me.
Remembering I’m supposed to count them, I rasp out the number.
“Good girl.”
My head goes back down. His cock pushes in deep into my throat, robbing me of air.
He holds me down until I can no longer breathe.
My head grows fuzzy; my fingers snap. He spanks my ass.
My fingers snap. Gasping for air as he raises my head, I only just manage to say, “Thirteen,” before he pushes me back down.
My thoughts disappear as he robs me of air. The slap of my ass brings me back to sharp awareness. Pushed back and forth between the two opposing sensations, I’m forced to be completely attuned to my body.
Heady.
Slap!
Drifting.
Slap!
I snap my fingers, never dipping into green.
By the time I make it to number twenty, my entire body feels limp and foreign. I groan around his cock as my ass clenches in preparation for the final spanking. My pussy trembles. His hand descends.
Slap!
He spurts into my mouth, his grip in my hair still holding me down. I gag and sputter as I try to swallow everything he gives me. But a lot of it dribbles down my chin.
Groaning, he jerks his hips up. Holding me still above him, he uses my mouth as if I’m nothing but a dirty little slut. “That’s my good girl,” he rasps. “Cup my balls.”
I reach a hand forwards. It’s covered in sticky cum mixed saliva, but I knead him as I moan. My ass is so sore, I don’t think I can sit down, but my pussy is throbbing with need.
When he finally pulls me off him, I try to crawl onto his lap, but his grip on my hair doesn’t let me move.
“Please,” I moan. “I need you in me.”
“You have three more punishments left, my queen.” He releases me, then scoots along the bed.
Lying down on his back with his wings spread, he looks at me, propped up on his elbows.
“You wanted me to lick you, so come sit on my face while you suck me hard. But if you come before I let you, I’ll make you come another twenty-one times tonight. ”
I cry out, my body already shuddering in denial at the mere thought of that many orgasms.
Crawling dutifully up the bed to him, I turn around as I straddle his face.
He lies down fully, grabs my hips, and pulls me to his lips.
He feasts on me with much more grace and patience than he showed at dinner.
Every time I looked at him at the other end of the table, he was stabbing his plate or scowling at someone.
But he licks me nice and slow, spreading my lips open with his fingers so he can delve in deep.
My pussy clenches as I fight back my orgasm.
I take him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock.
I pay special attention to his piercing, knowing that it gives him increased pleasure.
He groans into my lips as his hips buck beneath my caresses.
Heady with the ability that I can make his body beg, I tease him as much as I can.
Holding all of my weight on one arm, I cup his balls with the other.
I stroke my fingers between his sack and ass.
It’s so wet with all my saliva, and I start to toy with his hole.
He jerks up into my mouth, banging into the back of my throat.
I start to rise up off him, but his hand pushes down on my head.
A second later, he’s coming hard, and I try to swallow every last drop.
Rolling me onto my back, he continues to lick my pussy. My toes bunch. My thighs squeeze. I cry out as I feel myself reach the edge of my orgasm. If he continues, I’m not going to be able to stop it.
“My king,” I plea, writhing beneath his onslaught. He doesn’t let up. He slides his finger into my pussy. His other hand reaches for his cock, and he pushes it back into my mouth. This time, he sets the pace, thrusting into my aching jaw as he curls his tongue and fingers inside me.
“I can’t!” I try to tell him, but my mouth is too full. My body flushes hot, and then –
“Come for me, my queen.”
I cry out as he holds me down. My orgasm rips through me. I thrash, arching and kicking and fisting the sheets as my entire body is consumed with pleasure. He hums on my clit until my cries are turning into sobs. He curls his fingers until I feel like I’ve soaked the whole bed.
Orgasm after orgasm he pulls from me, and through the cloudy purple haze of bliss, I fear he knows that I started to come before he told me to.
I whimper, but his cock pushes back into my mouth. He thrusts in slow and deep. Four times he fills my stomach. My jaw aching, my ass aching, my pussy fucking aching, I think about calling red.
But before I can, utter exhaustion and bliss take me.
I wake up the next morning, sweating in the arms of my king.
The both of us are facing the wrong way on the bed; he joined me at this end rather than risk rousing me by turning me around.
The smell of sex is so thick in the air, it reminds me of the orgies of Brownston.
Fuck, my king can compete with a whole town.
I groan.
Quickies. I need to introduce him to fucking quickies.
“Colour?” he murmurs as soon as I shift, and I wonder if he’s sleeping with one eye open, scared he’ll hurt me again like he did last night.
“Green,” I yawn. Despite how close to red I got and how he left me hanging on yellow almost all night, now that it’s over, I’m utterly content. “Just very sweaty.”
He kisses my check, then nudges me away from him. I turn around to face him so I can reach for his hand. I curl my fingers around his and sigh with all the love I have for him. A question niggling at me, I ask on the verge of sleep. “Did you keep going after I –” I yawn. “Tapped out?”
“No. I’m not into somnophilia. I like watching you fall apart for me.”
“Oh. It’s just I’m very wet. I thought you might’ve fucked me properly.”
He chuckles. “Are you so unsatisfied from my tongue, my queen?”
I jolt awake. “No! I mean, yes. I mean, I do not want to come no more,” I whine.
He raises my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Sleep well, my queen. For tomorrow, you’ll receive your actual punishment for failing to ask for a snack.”
I whimper. But as nervous as I am about tomorrow, I’m too exhausted to think about it now.
Closing my eyes, I fall asleep all too quickly.
Idiot! It’s a trap!