SIXTH KNOT #2
Then he grabs my jaw, fingers digging in. The leash-like rope tightens again, pressing against the hollow of my throat. I can’t even swallow right.
“Say that again.”
I smile against his grip.
“Go on. Try to kill me if you’ve got the balls.”
He exhales rough, like a growl starting in his chest. Then he licks the sweat off my neck, his tongue dragging over my pulse point like he’s tasting my heartbeat.
“Tempting. But I like my bitches warm and screaming.”
I snort. Fucking asshole.
“Maybe after I’m done… It’d be so fucking hot to kill you on my cock.” He chuckles against my neck and then bites down hard on my shoulder. “But I have better manners than that.”
“Since when? Don’t start now.”
Instead of replying, he mouths against my collarbone, sucking at the skin right above my left nipple. Then teeth again, this time lower, scraping down the side of my stomach. The ropes creak when I jerk, leaving a burn across my ribs.
Ryo exhales a laugh.
“You twitch like a bitch.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl, earning another hard bite. I flinch so hard my whole spine arches off the bed, the rope burning against my chest and neck as I strain, gasping.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” His voice sounds smug. “Keep fucking around and I’ll gag you too.”
“Try it.”
He doesn’t. But he reaches between my legs and spreads me wider—not with his hands, but by grabbing the bar and pushing, so the stretch turns punishing. My thighs shake.
He strokes me slowly, and fuck, the bastard doesn’t care about technique. He wants to watch me squirm, hear me pant, see what happens when I’m right on the edge.
He slams his thumb against my piss-slit so fucking hard I see stars, grinding the sensitive flesh like he’s crushing a cigarette.
My hips jerk, desperate for it and disgustingly pathetic.
Then he bites lower—right above the root of my cock—and I moan like a cheap whore, head spinning with the fucking torture of it.
Pleasure tears through me, not enough to blow my load but way too fucking much to ignore.
“Freak. You’re loving this.”
I choke out a laugh, breathless.
“What gave it away? My throbbing hard dick?”
For that, the bastard squeezes my ballsack, crushing them until I scream. Then he flips me face-down into the mattress, shoving my cheek hard against the sheets. The ropes dig into my chest and arms, grinding my skin as I twist, and I feel the blindfold slip as he jerks my hips up.
I hear the unmistakable clink of metal somewhere behind me.
Then it turns into the sound of chains sliding against another metal.
Then again. He grabs my ankles, one at a time, and it’s not metal I feel.
It’s leather—those thick cuffs being buckled around my ankles, pressing firm into my skin.
Then a pull, a creak above me like he’s anchoring the cuffs to something overhead—maybe a fucking hook in the ceiling I didn’t catch before.
And suddenly I’m being suspended.
My knees are lifted off the mattress, thighs splayed wide like some cheap glory hole slut. My asshole’s gaping open, all exposed for him to see. The ropes around my chest tighten when my back is forced to arch, the knots pressing into my skin.
This is pain more erotic than I ever thought possible.
I can feel him moving around the room again, his boots thumping against the concrete floor.
It’s a strange sound, a reminder of how fucked up this situation is.
Because I’m really here, vulnerable in front of someone who could grab a knife and cut open my fucking throat.
But my body’s singing with it, thrumming with anticipation.
I’m like a moth to the flame, and the ropes are the fire.
“You breathing okay, bitch?” he asks, his voice echoing slightly. I can’t see him, can’t see what he’s doing, and I hate that it turns me on so fucking bad.
“Don’t pretend to care, asshole.”
“Didn’t ask ‘cause I give a shit. Just keeping your worthless ass alive while I destroy your cunt.”
He laughs again, and I feel the mattress dip as he climbs on. His hands are rough as he runs them down my thighs, stroking, gripping, feeling the muscles tense and quivering. His breath is heavy—I can hear it well—and I wonder if his cock is as hard as mine.
“You like being tied up and helpless?”
I bite my lip, not wanting to admit it, but the truth’s already out.
“Yeah. Fucking love it.”
“I always knew you were a dog on a leash, Arakawa,” he says, and slaps my ass with so much force, I feel my eyes water. “Kobayashi-san trains you boys tight. Guess I’ll loosen you up.”
He takes his hands away for a second, and suddenly there’s this icy-wet shit slithering up my ass crack.
Lube, I realize, feeling two fingers force my hole open.
And holy fuck does it hurt. Pain blooms, and I buck against the ropes tying me down.
The cord around my neck bites deep, choking me while I thrash—gonna leave bruises for weeks, probably.
I don’t give a single shit—it feels fucking amazing.
“Fuck, you squirm like a little bitch,” he growls, pushing a finger deeper. “Come on, fight me. Kick. Don’t fucking limp around like a pussy.”
“Insane piece of crap.”
“Nah. You’re the crazy one here. Fucking love it.”
His fingers plunge deeper, knuckle-deep now, scraping my insides. I buck against the suspension chains, leather cuffs biting into my ankles as the metal links overhead clatter.
“Fucking—holy shit!” The pain blooms hot and bright behind my navel, radiating down my thighs. Hurts so fucking good I wanna smash his teeth in.
“That’s it,” Ryo growls, voice dripping with fucked-up glee. “Thrash harder, bitch. Fight me. Make me work for it.”
My hole burns, muscles clenching uselessly around the invasion. The chains groan as I thrash, hips jerking wildly.
“You want more?” He twists his fingers inside me. “Beg for it.”
“In your fucking dreams,” I gasp, choking on the rope cinched around my throat.
He does it anyway. Three fingers jam in to the fucking hilt, forcing through muscle. The scream rips out of me before I can stop it, echoing off the concrete walls.
“Fuck yeah!” Ryo’s free hand slams down on my ass, fingers digging into the welt he left earlier. “Fucking thrash for me like the rabid dog you are.”
My body convulses, fighting the chains and the hand buried in my guts. Saliva drips off my chin, pooling on the mattress. And there’s nothing I can do about any of it.
My cock throbs, hard and leaking already.
“Gonna fuck you now. Will you bleed for me, Arakawa?”
He yanks his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness aches worse than the stretch. I hear the rustle of his jeans, the clink of a belt buckle. Then the hot slap of his cock against my ass.
He spits a heavy glob right on my open hole. He won’t put more lube in there—the crazy piece of shit really wants to make me bleed. Then the blunt head of his dick presses against me.
“Breathe out, slut.”
I don’t. I suck in a ragged gasp—and he rams forward.
The invasion is absolute, merciless, and complete. He sheathes himself to the root in one thrust. My vision whites out. The pain feels seismic—ripping through my pelvis, shattering my spine, exploding behind my eyes.
Holy shit, who knew it would feel this good to get railed?
“Fuck,” Ryo groans, hips grinding deep. “Tight sweet ass.”
He stays there, buried inside me, letting me feel every inch, every ridge, every pulsing vein. The stretch is torture. The fullness is suffocating.
“Hurts?” he murmurs, finger tracing the ring of my hole, then sliding up my back.
I’ll shove my cock up his ass later so he can know if it hurts or not.
“Answer me, bitch.” He pulls on the rope cinched around my windpipe, and I choke on my own spit. My hips jerk involuntarily, trying to buck him off, but the suspension chains just rattle overhead.
“Nah,” I say, the word scraping. “Can’t even feel that tiny dick.”
He laughs, fucking delighted.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel it.”
He pulls out slowly, dragging his cockhead over the abused ring of my asshole. Then he slams back in without care. Harder this time. Deeper. Making me spasm around the invasion.
“Ahh fuck, it feels good,” he says, grabbing my hips and yanking me onto him. “Great fuck-hole you have here.”
His rhythm is punishing—thrusts battering my insides. Each one knocks the breath from my lungs.
“Look at you,” he pants, slapping my ass. “Dripping blood on my sheets. Ruining everything you touch.”
He’s right. I can smell it. I can feel warmth trickling down my crack and over my balls.
His fingers come to play with my dick, stroking and stopping and stroking and stopping... And fuck, it’s too much. I’m so turned-on it’s like my entire body’s on fire. And I’m so close, so fucking close. I want to come. I want it so bad...
But I don’t.
Because Ryo pulls out, and I feel empty.
He pulls my legs up some more, stretching me out even further, until my back is arching so much it hurts.
The rope around my neck tightens, too, and I can feel the blood rushing to my head.
It’s a weird kind of high, like I’m floating above the bed, watching everything happening to me from a distance.