Chapter 23
Tuesday rose on shaky legs, and he walked her across the kitchen until her hips touched the counter, and he turned the water on. She heard the sound of the water change, as if he had his hands in the stream. She smelled soap.
Finally, he put a hand to the back of her head, holding it in place, and ordered, “Open your cocksucking mouth.”
The moment she obeyed, a thick, bitter bar of soap pressed across her tongue. She gagged instantly at the vile taste. He pressed it against her teeth, scraping it on them.
Then came his sudsy fingers, rubbing the burning soap under her tongue, between her teeth and cheeks, pressing into every crevice and cranny of her mouth. The soap foamed and burned, coating her entire tongue and the roof of her mouth until she was coughing and drooling helplessly.
He worked the soap in thoroughly, his voice calm and instructional while his fingers invaded her mouth and pressed the chemical burn everywhere, his other hand still gripping the back of her head.
“You were tied up during our early scenes, so you didn’t have much of a chance to get in trouble, but I want your submission, and I demand your obedience, which means giving you the free will to have to choose to obey. ”
He ran his fingers a short way down the back of her throat, and she gagged around them, the burn spreading past his fingers.
“These three days are about getting you into the habit of obedience and the practice of using Sir anytime we’re in power exchange — anytime sex is in the mix, and that damned well means you say it when you’re naked and bound at the kitchen table.”
He kept his sudsy fingers moving in her mouth, the burning soap making her eyes water and soak the blindfold all over again.
Finally, he let go of her and walked away. “Permission to lean forward and rinse your mouth out.”
Blindfolded with her arms bound behind her, she had to search for the stream with her mouth, using only the sound to find it.
She gulped mouthful after mouthful, swishing desperately to get the horrid, burning taste out. She spat again and again, but the soap clung stubbornly, leaving her mouth raw and stinging.
Her ears told her he was plating the steaks and likely the potatoes from the slow cooker, but her nose wasn’t helpful with the soap smell dominating everything.
And still, she desperately rinsed her mouth.
“Enough,” he said, his hand back on her upper arm.
He walked her to the table, ordered her to kneel, and he sat in the chair and fed her bites of steak with his fingers, and the gooey potatoes with a spoon.
At first, she could barely taste the food, but slowly, the flavors began to break through, and the potatoes were exquisite.
The thyme and rosemary, the butter and onions, the sharp cheese.
He’d found the perfect balance. His steaks were always good and perfectly seared, but whatever he’d marinated them in gave extra umami and she savored every bite, even while her body continued its slow, aching agitation, worrying about what would happen after the meal.
Her clit throbbed constantly, swollen and hypersensitive. Her pussy clenched and fluttered, desperate for friction, for fullness, for him. And the muscles of her asshole still hurt, long after he’d taken the damned hook out.
There was no escape from the constant reminder of how thoroughly he owned her, and the nearness of the time he would remind her of it once again in some brutal fashion.
Halfway through the meal, the vibrating egg inside her suddenly buzzed to life.
She jolted, and a soft, helpless sound escaped.
She’d actually forgotten it was there, buried deep and quiet for so long, but she damned well remembered it now.
The low, relentless buzz pressed against her walls, teasing nerves until her entire lower torso screamed for release once again…
and he kept feeding her as if nothing had changed.
His fingers slow and methodical while she sat bound, blindfolded, and vibrating, her body a live wire of hunger, dread, anticipation, and unbearable need.
Hours later, after he’d fucked her in every hole, and in more positions than she could possibly count, edging her over and over without allowing an orgasm even though he came once in every hole as well as all over her back — he walked her outside, into the dark, and ordered her to pee.
She should’ve been used to his casual expectation she would squat in his yard like an animal, but it still burned.
Her face heated with deep, mortifying shame when he stepped back to watch.
The cool night air brushed her spread thighs.
The heavy plug in her ass shifted as she lowered herself, and a helpless little sound escaped before she could stop it.
Look at what I’ve become for him.
The thought sent a fresh wave of humiliation rolling through her, but underneath it, a dark, traitorous pulse of arousal. She hated how much it turned her on — the undeniable proof that he owned even this.
She was his. Completely. Down to the most private, embarrassing things.
The pee went down one of her legs partway through, and she tried to shift to make it go straight again, but it didn’t.
When the flow ended, he unclipped her wrists and handed her a wad of baby wipes. She cleaned herself with shaking hands, the baby wipes cool against her overheated flesh.
She followed him upstairs, the plug shifting with every step, her body still buzzing and aching from everything he’d done to her.
She froze at the top of the steps, and her stomach dropped to her feet. A pole was mounted to a floor bracket on the far wall, with an enormous stainless-steel dildo fixed to the top.
He walked to it and waited silently for her to come to him.
Following him in from the yard was the longest twenty-yard walk she’d ever made, but he didn’t waste time when she got there — he lifted her and slowly lowered her onto it the second she made it to him.
The thick head breached her, spreading her wide, forcing her pussy to open around its brutal girth. She gasped, then moaned as he kept lowering her until the massive shaft was buried deep. The stretch was obscene. Her inner walls pulsed and clenched, futilely trying to adjust.
He raised her arms into a wide X above her head and clipped her wrist cuffs to ropes hanging from the ceiling. Then he spread her legs and chained her ankles to heavy hooks embedded in the floor. She was completely trapped — impaled, spread, displayed.
He adjusted something on the pole and the dildo rose higher.
Higher.
She rose onto her tiptoes, and it went higher, until the flared base pressed hard against her entrance, but that wasn’t the worst of it.
She couldn’t raise high enough on her toes to keep the steel head from jamming itself into her cervix, an aching, bruising pressure that made her whimper. He locked something on the pole, stepped back, looked her over from head to toe and back… and then disappeared into the bathroom.
She heard the shower run. Heard him moving around. When he returned, he slipped the blindfold over her eyes, and she heard him getting into bed.
At first, she stayed on her toes, trying to ease the crushing pressure on her cervix. The position burned through her calves and thighs, sweat slicked her skin. She knew she couldn’t stay on her toes forever, but she held out as long as she could.
The massive dildo stretched her so wide she felt split open, every tiny shift sending fresh sparks of pain and unwanted pleasure through her core.
Minutes became hours.
Her legs trembled violently. Her calves burned. Her feet cramped. Finally, she had no choice, and she lowered herself flat-footed.
The dildo drove even deeper.
A raw, rasping sound tore from her throat as the thick head ground hard against her cervix.
The stretch was merciless. Every breath made it worse.
The heavy fullness in her pussy combined with the plug still in her ass left her feeling impossibly stuffed.
Her inner walls spasmed around the giant shaft, clenching and releasing in helpless spasms.
She tried to stay still, but it wasn’t possible.
Every tiny involuntary shift, every tremble of her exhausted legs drove the metal dildo against that deep, sensitive spot.
Agony blended and twisted with a dark, aching pleasure, and the day of denied orgasms came back with a vengeance, making her need release even while standing with spread legs in never-ending agony during the long, long night.
Tears slipped from beneath the blindfold. Her thighs shook uncontrollably. Her shoulders screamed. Her pussy throbbed and spasmed around the unrelenting girth, pulsing with need she had no way to satisfy.
She hung in the darkness, skewered on the massive dildo, trembling, for an eternity.
There was no escape. There was only the deep, brutal stretch, the burning in her legs, the slow, endless ache of being held right on the edge of too much… and the quiet, devastating knowledge that she would endure all of it because he wanted her to.
Eventually, she heard his breathing change, then the rustle of sheets as he rose.
He went to the bathroom, and she didn’t know if it was the middle of the night or early morning.
Would he go back to bed, or would he release her?
She needed to pee, and hearing him go made her bladder think it could go, but she held it.
His footsteps came to her instead of to the bed, and her right breast exploded in pain.
Then her left breast. Back and forth, and she knew exactly which flogger he was using despite not being able to see.
He only hit her maybe four or five dozen times before he disconnected her ankles and wrists, and lifted her from the dildo.
For one blissful second she was free — then he turned her around and lowered her right back onto it, facing the wall this time.
She screamed as the thick metal head forced its way back into her cervix, the stretch and pressure even crueler after even those few seconds of relief.
Her raw, overused hole clenched desperately around the unforgiving steel, sending fresh waves of deep, aching pain radiating through her core.
He quickly refastened her wrists and ankles, locking her back in place.
Then he pulled the plug out, crammed his cock into her sore, abused asshole, and fucked her like a pole-mounted sex toy.
He was rough and relentless, hips slamming against her, using her hard and deep. She could only hang there and take it, sobbing, whimpering, her body jolting with every thrust. When he finally came, he buried himself to the hilt and growled as he filled her ass.
He pulled out, then immediately shoved the massive plug back into her raw asshole. She screamed as the thickest part forced her open again, stretching her abused ring wide. The burn was vicious after being fucked so hard, and she sobbed helplessly as it sank all the way in, locking deep inside her.
He slapped her right ass cheek… and walked away.
She heard a click she assumed was the baby wipe container opening, and then the scent that told her she was right.
Two footsteps, then the sound of the mattress accepting his weight.
Seconds later, his breathing told her he’d gone back to sleep, leaving her hanging there — used, stuffed, aching, and still so desperately needy.
When he woke again, he came straight to her.
This time she heard the rustle of the flogger and braced herself.
He laid into her back without a warmup, the falls cracking across her skin in heavy, stinging blows.
After the endless night it was a familiar, grounding pain she could lean into, and she welcomed it.
Unfortunately, he only gave her a few dozen strikes before stopping, and she couldn’t help the needy, disappointed whine that slipped out.
He only chuckled and released her ankles, then her wrists, and lifted her off the dildo.
Her legs buckled the instant her feet touched the floor, but he didn’t let her fall.
He didn’t pick her up, either. Merely took her by the hand, steadying her, and walked her, still blindfolded, toward what she desperately hoped was the bathroom.
It was, and she peed the second her ass hit the toilet, relief flowing through her even though the pressure made the bruising inside her hurt all over again.
She heard water running, like he was filling something from the tub’s faucet. Then his footsteps walked away.
“Count to ten,” he told her, “and you can remove the blindfold. When you finish on the toilet, brush your hair and teeth, then come to the bedroom.”