Twenty #2
I cry out as I slip my fingers through his hair.
I can feel his tongue stroking my skin on either side of the belt, but even when I push against his lips, my pussy is denied all pressure.
The fucking edges dig into me enough to hurt, but it doesn’t matter how I rock my hips, I cannot make contact where I need it.
Whimpering, I pull back. “I don’t like it.”
“Colour?”
Begrudgingly, I say, “Green.”
He kisses it, but I can’t feel it.
My toes curl with frustration as he rises.
With his hands on my hips, he pivots us, then lowers me down onto the bed so I’m sitting on the edge. I wince. “Is it still comfortable?” Richard asks as he studies me closely.
“Yes. My ass is just a bit sore.”
“Do you want a wand?”
I shake my head. “The soreness makes me think of you.”
He grins. His eyes drop to the RM on my breast. “I like seeing my marks on you.”
I cup my breast, and my lips part as I watch him struggle with the decision to keep his hands off me. For now. Until he decides to touch me.
“I don’t want to force you to listen to me,” he says as he locks his violet eyes on mine.
“I want you to choose to listen because you know what I can do for you. When you get down on your knees for me, it should be because you are giving me the gift of your trust, not because you’re afraid of what I’ll do if you don’t.
That is the appeal, my queen. Not your submission in and of itself.
But your complete and utter trust that I will care for you.
“So while wearing this and being left aching and wanting all day, know that it is not the punishment I’m after.
If you need it off, I will take it off and care for you another way.
Do not hesitate to tell me when it gets too much” –his eyes darken– “and it will because for the next week, this will only come off when you eat.”
I whimper.
I squirm.
I want to beg him now to use me, but I know he’ll leave me wanting.
Clenching my pussy, trying to chase a bit of relief from the awful ache already building up inside me, I ask, “When is breakfast?”
He smiles. “In half an hour.”
Rising to his feet, he kisses my neck. I gasp from the sudden, desperate contact.
He gropes my breasts, stroking and pinching and teasing.
Pushing me down on my back, he kisses his way down my body, then back up again, biting me every so often.
The heat builds blissfully cruel between my legs.
I arch on a moan as he crawls on top of me, his cock nestled between my legs. But the bloody belt is in the way.
He licks his way across my collar bone and up my neck. I turn my head towards him, but instead of claiming my lips, he makes his way back down to my breasts. He pushes his cock against me. My legs wrap around his hips. I try to rock with his thrusts, but I can’t feel any friction.
Can’t chase any release.
Panting hard, I ask, “Is it time for breakfast?”
“You tell me.”
“I can’t see a cock. A clock.”
He chuckles. “If it’s a clock you want to see…” Moving off me, he stands at the foot of the bed so I can see him in all his glory. My eyes riveted on his cock, I rub my thighs together. Then whimper as I’m reminded of the fucking belt.
“That’s it, my queen. Fuck me with those eyes of yours.” He pulls himself out of his trousers. Groaning, he strokes himself. My breaths come quickly. I’m so desperate to join him. Sitting up, I reach for him, but he swats my hand aside. “Until that belt is off, you’re mine to use.”
Wrapping his fist in my hair, he pulls my head towards him.
I open my mouth immediately. He thrusts in deep and holds me tight to his body.
He pulls out slowly. I swirl my tongue around his head.
Suck the tip hard. Flick his piercing until he hisses.
Then he’s pulling my lips down his cock.
Slow and deep until he’s nestled in the back of my throat.
I whimper around him with so much need. My thighs are soaked. The aching is nearly unbearable, heightened by the knowledge that it’s going to be a full week of this before I get my release.
“Colour?” he asks, his voice harsh and raw.
I slap the bed so he knows it’s green. For now. But he’s right. Eventually, I will break. Because fucking hel, I don’t think anyone is built to handle this much need.
He pulls out, let’s me worship his head, then pushes back in. Out and in. Out and in as he groans and grunts and chases the release I want.
“Shit. Fuck. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Both of his hands are in my hair now, pulling me on his cock at a pace that has me gasping for breath. “You’re so fucking good at this. That’s it. Take me deeper. You’re going to make me come. Use that tongue –”
He twists his fingers in my hair as I flick his piercing. His body locks stiff. My tongue quickens on his metal stud. He groans. He trembles. Then he shoves in deep as he comes in my mouth. I swallow greedily, but he pulls my lips off him so he can finish all over my chest.
Panting, he uses his left hand to jerk the last of his cum out. It splatters hot and thick across my breasts. A noise of frustration knocks against my ribs.
Pulling me up by the back of my neck, he kisses me hard. “It’s time for breakfast, my queen, and you’ll wear my latest mark with pride.”
Realising he means the cum on my chest, I beg him to use me.
But he just grabs the dress, pulls it over my head, and leads me out of the room.
As we walk through the halls of the castle, with the chastity belt tied on me and his seed wetting the underside of my dress, I wonder just how long I’m going to make it.
And what he’ll do to me once the week is over.