Chapter 30 #2
Then I retrieve the collar from my pocket, unzip myself, and fuck my cock into her mouth hole. The slick movement of her tongue sliding wetly beneath me, that gorgeous hot circle of mouth swallowing me. The way she stares at where I’ve claimed her there.
Fuck, fuck fuck. I groan and feel myself stiffen even more.
After three thrusts where I note how well she keeps her hands clasped behind her, I grit my teeth and stop. I stay inside her, with my cock pulsing and demanding more, with her fucking tongue curling over me.
I drape the collar around her neck and click it closed. The leash? I pull that from my pocket and click it to the collar, flick the red, heart-shaped tag.
“You’re mine forever now. Mine until death do us part.”
She chokes and splutters a little, pleading with her eyes.
This is when I remember where I found these two slave girl items. Here. Upstairs. Whoever these people are, won’t they have more such things?
As I gaze around this gym, cataloguing, assessing, I zero in on various objects. An eyebolt anchor point on the ceiling and on the four legs of the table. A wooden chest with an old padlock hanging from the front. That’s where I would hide my kinky toys. Breaking it open would be rude.
The way her mouth is tightening on me spasmodically alerts me to the effect the dildo is having. Do I fetch things or simply fuck her mouth? I drive in and keep it deep, almost into her throat. She’s shuddering, eyelids fluttering, and her belly muscles and thighs are twitching.
The vibrations must be travelling to her clit.
I withdraw my now glistening member that pulls a string of drool from her mouth. She draws in an erratic breath.
Erection still quivering, I step away as she groans and rides that dildo, circling it with her pussy. Her knees are flexing, lowering her an inch, rising, lowering.
Desperation shows in the frown she gifts me with. “I thought… I thought you said you were—”
“I did. You can come.” I shove three fingers into her mouth and hold her like that as she closes her eyes and pushes herself even lower, embedding the dildo all the way.
As an orgasm floods her, she starts to jerk, and her diminishing breaths are strangled whispers that betray the last ripples of her orgasm.
“So worth the price,” I say quietly.
I release her and she bows her head and whips her hands forward to plant them on the floor while she finishes. She sits there, overcome and gasping, crumpled over, with the dildo miles deep in her cunt.
I snag a fistful of her hair, wrap it around my hand, and smile down at her distraught face. Make her wait a whole day for a climax…yesss. Must do this again.
“You let go. Tsk. Clasp your hands again.” Using her hair, I pull her higher and look beneath, between her thighs.
The thing is humming merrily and rises with her until gravity makes several inches slide out, shiny with her wetness.
I cruise a finger along her slit, curving it upward and into her, slipping in beside the dildo.
Then I stand and push the slippery finger into her mouth. “Suck. Swallow.”
Her eyes are glazed, but she sucks noisily.
Then I do as I promised. I keep that fistful of her hair and fuck her mouth until I come and my jizz spills from her and drips off her chin.
I’m sure I can do this, fuck her and come, at least twice more? I narrow my eyes. The heave of her breasts with the pretty circles of her areolas beckon my tongue to lick them. Maybe three times.
“On all fours again.” I extract the dildo then encourage her to go to her hands and knees using my fingers hooked in her collar, then I tug on the leash. “Come.”
She follows me as I go to the table before the window. The old bruises from my bites sing to me. Marking her is one of my favorite acts but the collar, that seals this.
My god. I can breathe again. My heart lies at ease when I see that around her neck.
I knot the handle end of the leash to an anchor point on the table leg nearest my chosen chair then seat myself. She’s kneeling on the floor before me, looking as sweet and beautiful as ever.
“I still want to fuck with your head…Hailey.” There, I said her name. I’m out the other side of this fucking priority command. “And your pussy too.” I prop my elbow on the armrest and, smiling, rest my face in the V of my hand. I can smell her on my hand.
“Mmm?”
“I was going to tie you on your back on the table to violate you, fuck you at both ends. I love the sound of that word—violate. But, no. You are enough. And I think this is what we both need.”
Hailey
He clicks his fingers.
“Come to me. Here.” He points to his erect cock where it juts up from his lap. “Crawl to me, Beautiful.”
That’s three names he’s called me. Petgirl. Something ruder? And now, Beautiful. I like this one the best. The edge has gone from his face, the cruelty there has lessened.
If he wants me to crawl, I will. How he’s been making me do things, it resonates within me. The mental gymnastics to get myself here, into this mindset are…just…I guess. I don’t know, just, I like this. I like being his. I like being able to just be.
He sits in that chair like a king waiting for his subject to fuck him, and that sly amused smile is all for me.
The leash is long and pools in loops of silver beside my knee.
It tinkles and slides, metal on metal, as I crawl to his feet then haul myself up his legs.
He fists a tangle of chain near where it connects to my collar and uses it to direct me.
Though his legs are spread, there is room for mine to slip to the outside of his broad thighs.
“Come,” he rumbles, his fist pulling the leash as I walk my knees deeper into the chair, until my open legs bring his cock beneath me.
It bends, heading for my entrance and I look down and adjust my position and my inner thigh jostles against the head.
The slickness makes us glide on each other, wet skin on wet cock.
My breath hitches.
“Ohh, you’re still fucking wet for me.” He groans this and our mouths meet, slide, teeth scrape and bite. Fuck I love being held and taken. We exchange heated breaths and whispered moans as I wriggle to center my slit over the head of his cock. “Fuck yourself on me, Petgirl.”
I’m whimpering, my eyes are closing, and I’m unsure where to direct my attention—to my pussy where he pushes inside me, forcing apart my walls in the best excruciating method of fucking me ever, or to my mouth, where he’s slowly ravaging me.
I paw at him, finding his huge shoulder muscles and biceps and trailing my hands down his chest over the track marks where he was stitched.
Though I’ve pushed myself down him, am sure he is inches inside, and my pussy is squashing in on him, I hit a limit where I need to adjust. I’ve forgotten his girth.
I dare to grasp the shaft of his cock. The heat of his flesh and that I have this part of him in my hand—we’re joined by this. We’re one, one creature, the beast with two backs.
I’m breathing hard and rapidly as he bites the side of my neck, then releases my skin and muscle and growls, “Down!” He hip-thrusts upward, driving in further even as his hand presses me down.
I’m fully impaled in half a second, and my mouth forms an O. “Oh fuck.”
The squelch of my pussy eating the entire length of Kail’s cock is a stirring punctuation. I moved my hand in time. I’m clutching parts of him like he’s a lifeline that stops me from drowning.
Then he swears and starts to lift me then slam me down again in a perfectly nasty rhythm that makes me keen and scratch his arms with my nails as I try to resist, then squirm on him when he stops.
“Slower?” I sob.
“You can take it.”
He holds me higher then jams me onto him. He’s strong enough to do this forever. I may disintegrate into mush.
Our bodies slap as they meet. There’s the filling of me below, the relentless punishment and pleasure, and that he stops to kiss me, to sink his teeth into all of me, everywhere, to kiss my breasts.
And the sensations build and build to a frantic crescendo.
I’m almost there, almost, with my thighs shaking, and with need tightening in my belly.
I hit climax. Mind-blown, muscles taut, I gasp and cry out then hear him groan. He drives into me—ramming us together. His cock pulses as he finishes, and the pressure of his come inside me is all I can feel as I collapse forward, breathing into the side of his neck, quivering.
“Beautiful.” He slides his hands to my waist.
“Thank you.” I kiss his neck and lie slumped into him, as if I’ve melted, while our heartbeats count the time. After some time, I wriggle upright. He’s still inside me, and the mess we must have left on the chair…
“Never take this off,” Kail murmurs and nudges the collar. “Not unless I allow it.”
“Of course.”
Our kiss is sublime and soft, not possessive, a quiet acknowledgement of who we now are—together.
A while later, he says something I don’t quite hear as I’m snuggled into him, half-dreaming and happy, miles away from the angst-flooded life I’ve been living for…well, months.
“What?” I raise my head off his chest.
His words bring me back to reality. “She said your cat is not a real cat?”
“She did. Which is a problem but maybe a minor one?”
“Very minor, compared to wondering if the shower works in this house.” He slips both hands around my ass and stands up. I wrap my legs about his waist. “The cat can be whatever it wants to be so long as it only watches.”
“And wants pats.” I mumble this to his neck, kissing it, kissing his scars, as we lumber across the floor.
“I think it’s absorbed the reality of a cat even if it isn’t one.
” Revenant is ground zero for weirdness.
On any other day, in any other town, I’d be freaking out over a cat that is not actually a cat.
Here, in the arms of a frankenstruct dude with a zillion surgery scars? A man who, once upon a time, was dead. A peculiar cat is like finding a new flavor of ice cream.
“Huh. Maybe.”
When we venture into the rest of the house, we find the water is turned on and the bathroom is actually a place where we can wash.
The fridge is humming, if a bit moldy inside, but also empty.
The pantry has limited cans and packets but a text from Molly tells us to look outside the front door.
Though I’m wearing only a T-shirt and underwear, I brave the chill wind and go with Kail to check what is there.
On the leaf-strewn welcome mat is a box of groceries, with milk, a packet of meat, and a few odds and ends like milk, cheese, and apples.
I’m not sure how long we are staying in this house, but this will be sufficient for a day, maybe two, with what else is here.
We unpack it in the kitchen.
“I hope they aren’t starving themselves.” I pull out three cans of cat food from the bottom of the box. Grinning, I show those to Kail. “Supper?”
“I’m not eating that.” He smacks my butt, giving it a warm buzz to add to the small teeth bruises I already bear. When I waggle my butt to taunt him, he stares and eyerolls.
“Am I getting an I-need-to-spank-that message from you?”
I snort, but before I can say more, Squiggle Cat wanders in. “Do you think it knew?”
He shrugs.
Did it know, somehow, that I have cat food? I peel open the can and find a plastic bowl, drop half of the can into it.
Our not-a-cat, prowls over, sniffs, licks up some fragments, then picks up the bowl in its front teeth and trots away. Having been warned, I check and…not that I’m totally sure but…no butthole visible.
“Where the heck is it going?” I consider following it.
“Maybe it wants to eat in peace?”
“Well, if we’re not going to see… Show me your finger, where Melody stitched you.” I guess I can ignore Squiggle if I’m sleeping next to this hunk of weird, badass muscle.
He raises his hand and lets me study the index finger he lost then conveniently regained. I make him move it, flex it.
“It’s not even bleeding?”
“Nope. I don’t bleed much, though it is red.”
“Phew.” I smirk. “If it weren’t red I’d have to reject you.”
“You’ve done it now.” Kail drags me to a stool, bends me over it, yanks my panties to my knees, then delivers three firm smacks.
The silver collar slides down to my chin as I clutch the rungs and stay there, assimilating this new sensation. I actually…like it. The vibrations travel and that, along with the glowy heat, is turning me on.
“I don’t think this will work as punishment. May I have another, sir?”
“Hmmm.” His palm smooths over my ass. “I can live with this kink of yours. I like this red color on you.”
It’s past nine PM, and the house is dark.
The path this catlike creature takes, carrying a bowl in its mouth, travels the length of a hallway that stretches to the rear of this part of the house.
Past study, past small bedroom, past gymnasium-come-sex dungeon it continues, before Not-cat vanishes to the left into a black opening.
In near utter darkness the small creature trots down a set of stairs that lead to an unlit cellar.
The slight tapping noises of catlike feet going down those timber stairs ceases.
The floor is irregular and littered with grit and lumps of something that Not-cat barely notices.
It can see well enough and keeps trotting toward the back wall.
Silence rules for ten or twenty seconds.
There is the sound of the food-filled plastic bowl being dropped and pushed across the concrete floor. Then comes the sound of something, or somethings, chewing, and a plethora of scuttling with many tiny feet.
Not-cat stays there on its haunches, guarding its friends while they satiate themselves on this food provided by the two-legged things Not-cat has become acquainted with. It purrs gently, because that is what cats should do.