Chapter 12 Elior #2
Daddy leaned back slightly so I had to look at him. His gaze was intense but steady. “Listen to me, Elior. Honestly, you are.”
“What? No—”
“Shhh,” he cooed, stroking my hair. “He’s right about a lot of it. I’m not a good man, baby. I lie and cheat to get what I want. I’m possessive. I want to pluck his eyes out every time he looks at you.”
My mouth dropped open in shock. “Daddy!”
“It’s true, and you know it.”
I shook my head, tears slipping down my cheeks again. “It’s not! You are a good man. The best.”
Daddy chuckled softly, using his thumb to catch my tears.
He was a good man.
How could he not be when he looked at me like I was something to worship?
I saw the love in his eyes. I saw the longing, the desire, the affection.
If he were a bad man, then I would just have to be a sinner.
“I love you, Daddy,” I whispered.
Daddy pulled me back in close, his arms wrapping around me like a shield. “I’m not sure if love is a strong enough word to describe what I feel for you.”
“See? How can you be bad if you say such romantic things like that?” I asked, a small smile on my lips.
“Okay, cherub. I’ll be good for you. How’s that?”
I nodded against his chest. “Perfect.”
I clung to him, breathing him in, the house quiet around us.
* * *
The gag stretched my mouth wide while I silently hoped it wasn’t giving me a double chin. Saliva already pooled at the corners of my lips, and I could feel the rubber ball pressing against my tongue, forcing my jaw into an uncomfortable ache.
Daddy’s hands were steady as he buckled the strap behind my head, his fingers brushing through my hair. I was already naked on the bed, wrists bound above my head to the headboard with soft leather cuffs.
As he sat back, his eyes drifted from my face down my body, until landing on my penis. He smirked, reaching out to wrap his hand around the chastity cage I’d been wearing lately. I’d mostly gotten used to it, although it still felt pretty weird to pee with it on.
He liked for it to be on practically 24/7, except when we were intimate.
I wiggled my hips a little, ready for him to use the key around his neck to unlock me. He’d explained what would happen tonight earlier. I was a bit nervous, but also kind of curious about how I’d feel with my senses taken away.
Daddy had said that it might help to quiet the noise in my head, especially after everything with Aarev—I mean Patel—this afternoon. He also said that he wanted to remind me who I belonged to, even though I’d never forget something like that.
“Good boy,” Daddy murmured, his voice low and rumbling. I couldn’t respond, only whimper around the gag, the sound muffled into a pathetic hum. He leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear, and I shivered. “God, your cock looks so pretty locked up.” He ran his fingers down the metal bars.
Once again, I waited for him to reach for his necklace, but he didn’t.
Instead, he turned to pick up the blindfold, then cupped my chin, tilting my face up.
I felt the cool silk of it as he draped it over my eyes, the fabric soft but unyielding as he tied it snugly.
Darkness swallowed me whole. No more glimpses of the bedroom’s dim lamp light, no shadows of Daddy’s broad frame hovering over me—just blackness.
My heart picked up, thudding in my chest, and I tugged lightly at the wrist restraints, testing them.
They held firm, the bed creaking faintly under my movement.
I bucked my hips up, becoming worried that he’d forgotten to unlock me.
He chuckled. “I know what you’re asking for, baby boy, don’t worry.” I took a breath and nodded, relieved he understood.
But then his hand moved to my ear, and I felt the weight of the headphones settling over my skull. They were the big, over-the-ear kind, soundproof, the kind that blocked out everything.
He lifted up the right earpiece. “The cage is staying on,” he purred before settling it back over my ear, muting the world.
I floated there for a second, disoriented, my mouth full, eyes blind, ears deafened, mind reeling from the realization that he wasn’t going to unlock me.
Panic flickered at the edges of my mind, that instinctive fear of losing control, but then Daddy’s hand was there, stroking down my chest, thumb circling my nipple until it pebbled under his touch. I arched into it, a muffled moan escaping around the gag.
He knew my body so well, every sensitive spot, every trigger. His palm slid lower, and I bucked my hips, desperate for friction that wouldn’t come.
Time blurred in the void. Without sight or sound, every other sensation amplified. The sheets rubbing against my back, the cuffs tugging at my wrists with every squirm.
Daddy’s hands roamed and roamed and roamed—gripping my thighs, spreading my legs wider, stroking my belly, plucking at my nipples.
He pressed kisses to the tops of my feet, up my legs, leaving no part of me untouched.
Distantly, I could feel myself leaking down there, but my mind was blissfully empty.
My whole body felt warm and like it was floating.
The bed had turned into a cloud, and all that existed in my world was my Daddy’s touch.
Daddy arranged my lower half how he wanted it, picking up each foot and folding my legs.
I felt exposed and vulnerable, my hole clenching in anticipation. Fingers brushed down my crease, teasing my entrance along the way, slick with lube he must have warmed in his hands.
Over and over, he circled my rim.
I became lost in the sensation, unsure of how long he spent massaging my most sensitive skin.
Finally, one finger pushed in, slipping past my softened entrance with ease. I whined around the gag, drool spilling down my chin.
Deeper he went, curling that finger to find my prostate. When he did, he gave it the same attention he’d given my rim. Over and over, massaging the gland. My caged penis throbbed, aching for release, but the denial somehow only heightened everything.
Soon, another finger joined the first. I writhed, wrists pulling hard against the bonds as I began to feel the urge to pee.
Daddy was seemingly oblivious to my rising need. Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes, dampening the blindfold.
Lost in the dark and quiet, I floated higher, melting into each stroke against my prostate. The bars of my cage felt slick and slippery against my skin.
All of a sudden, my pleasure crested, sending soul-shattering waves up my spine and all the way down to my toes.
Was I dead?
Was this Heaven?
When I came back to myself, it was almost as if the cycle had restarted. I was empty, but hands still caressed me. I think I sobbed.
Time felt obsolete as gentle touches worshiped my body.
There was nothing but pleasure.
By the time his fingers returned to my hole, it was no longer oversensitive from my orgasm.
This time, he only pumped his digits into me a few times, then withdrew them.
There was a thick and insistent pressure at my rim, and then the head of his dick nudged in.
He sank forward inch by inch, filling me completely, his hips flush against my ass.
I felt every vein, every pulse as he bottomed out.
The fullness was overwhelming in the silence, my body clenching around him, pulling him deeper.
Each slap of skin on skin vibrated through me.
He fucked me hard, one hand pinning my hip while the other held my throat.
Again, time seemed to blur.
I wasn’t sure how long he spent thrusting into me, but the heat flooding my insides signaled the end.
He collapsed over me, breath ragged against my neck.
We stayed like that for a long time.