Chapter 8 Dameon #2
I enter the private camming unit and lock the door.
The silence here carries a weight of anticipation that makes my palms itch.
I strip off my charcoal security shirt, tossing it onto the small couch in the corner.
My reflection in the dark monitor shows the skull and crossbones tattoo on my ribs.
I trace the ink for a second; the lines of the heart-eyed pirate flag remain a secret I hold close to my chest.
I pull the half-skull mask over my face. The cool fabric settles against my skin, narrowing my vision. I sit in the high-backed chair and engage the voice filter.
I log into the Remote Alpha Aid terminal.
The interface displays the active Wi-Fi connections for the package Zora received this morning.
Green lights on my dashboard confirm the pairing.
I see the Alpha dildo, the one with the rotating head and thrusting feature, and the velvet-lined handcuffs.
I also power on my sleeve masturbator. The device syncs with her dildo.
The screen flickers to life. Zora sits on the edge of her bed, the amber fairy lights casting a soft, golden glow across her mahogany skin. She wears a lacy black lingerie slip, but she hiked the hem to her hips. Toy sit box beside her.
“You look ready, Omega.” My filtered voice rumbles through her room, a deep, gravelly vibration.
Zora jumps slightly, her gaze snapping to the camera lens. She sits small in the center of that massive bed, but her eyes hold a spark of excitement that makes my blood run hot.
“I am. I stayed up thinking about these.” She reaches for the dildo and handcuffs. “The WiFi stuff confuses me a little.”
I lean forward, my bare chest filling the frame.
“The toys contain receivers, Omega. I control the intensity and the rhythm from my computer. More importantly, they sync. When I move my sleeve, your toy reacts. When your walls spasm around the device, the sensors transmit that pressure back to me. I feel exactly what you feel. We move as one tonight. I also hold the digital override for those cuffs. Pick them up.”
She obeys, the steel chains clinking softly.
“Close them for me. Click them shut.”
She snaps the cuffs together without putting them on. The mechanical sound carries through the audio. I tap a command on my screen. A soft, digital whir comes from the device on the chain, and the cuffs pop open instantly. Zora gasps.
“I hold the key, Omega. Before we begin, we must establish the safety protocols. If you feel actual distress and need the session to stop immediately, you say ‘Red’. If you need a moment to breathe or a break from the intensity, you say ‘Yellow’. Do you understand the code?”
“Red for stop. Yellow for break. I understand.”
“Good. Now, tell me something. Have you ever taken an Alpha knot before?”
Zora bites her lower lip, her gaze dropping to the silicone device in her lap. “I haven't.”
A fierce, possessive satisfaction flares in my chest. I like that answer.
I like the idea of being her first true experience with that kind of fullness, even if it has to be through a video call.
My sleeve masturbator features a specialized chamber designed to mimic her taking my knot, and I intend to utilize every bit of that tech.
“Tonight, I intend to show you what that feels like. Move the laptop to the foot of the bed. Spread your thighs. I want nothing hidden.”
I watch her move. She crawls to the end of the bed and positions the laptop where I directed. She lies back, her knees falling open to reveal her dark pussy lips.
“Take the packet of warming lube that came with the toy and make the toy good and slippery all over.
She takes a lube packet off her nightstand and opens it. Spreading it all along the veined length of the toy. She gasps. "It's so warm. I've never used lube like this."
"Slowly push it into your opening, take your time."
I've been rock hard since before the session started. I spread the same warming lube in the sleeve and slide it over my dick. "Then, when you're ready. Put your arms above your head and cuff your wrists together.”
Zora’s breath hitches. “I'm trusting you by doing this.”
I nod. "Of course you are. I won't break your trust, Omega."
Placing her left wrist in the cuff, she raises her arms above her head and cuffs the right one. The button to unlock it lights up on my screen.
The sleeve masturbator tightens, mimicking how tight she is. “Good, Omega."
I wrap my hand around the sleeve. As I move it, her toy rotates and thrusts in perfect synchronization with my rhythm. Zora arches her back, her bound hands pulling against the cuffs. The knot presses at her opening slowly, easing her into the sensation, a constant pressure that she can’t escape.
My sleeve twitches, the sensors mimicking the way her muscles clench around the dildo. I feel her heat. I feel her need.
“Oh... Saturday, I feel you. It feels so full.”
I tease her for a few minutes, pushing her toward the brink of a climax. Every time her muscles tighten and her breath hitches into a sob of anticipation, I stop moving; the dildo inside her freezes. The knot continues to stretch her, holding her in a cold void of need.
“Please,” she begs, her head tossing against the pillows. “Don’t stop. I’m right there. Let me finish.”
“Not yet. Breathe for me, Omega. Trust me.”
I repeat the cycle a few times, keeping the session light but intense.
I control the fire in her blood with the friction of my body, feeling every little spasm and contraction through the sleeve.
She whimpers now, a needy sound. I want to be in that room, but for now, the remote control provides the only way I can keep this mask on.
I slam my hips into the masturbator, my movements fast and aggressive.
Her toy responds with maximum power, and the knot enters her.
Zora’s body locks, her spine a taut wire as she crashes into a violent, earth-shattering release.
The sleeve around my length pulses, mimicking her climax as her walls clamp down on the toy.
I follow her, my release hitting me with a force that leaves me gasping for air.
I watch her until the last tremor leaves her thighs. I keep the cuffs locked. I keep her trapped in the afterglow.
“Breathe, Omega. Just breathe.”
The silence of the camming unit feels heavy as the session winds down.
I spent the last hour pushing her through cycles of pleasure, and the physical toll shows in the way she lies limp across the bed.
Her hair looks like a wild, golden halo against the dark pillows.
I tap the button on my screen, and the digital cuffs click open.
Zora sighs, a long, shaky sound. She rubs her wrists; the velvet having protected her skin from the bite of the steel.
“I needed that,” she whispers, her gaze finding the lens of the camera. “You Alphas at the RAA are so good at making the noise stop” She sighs, her gaze drifting toward the side of the screen. “Is that a tattoo?”
I look down at the skull and crossbones. The heart-shaped eyes of the skull seem to mock me in the blue light. “It is.” I wasn't expecting to be on long enough for her to notice it on my side.
“A skull and crossbones.” A small, sad smile touches her lips. “I used to play pirates when I was a kid. We had this old wooden playground. There was a boy... he used to tell me he was the captain and I was his first mate. We’d spend hours sailing across the yard.”
My throat tightens until I can barely breathe. I remember the scent of the cedar. I remember the way the wood felt under my palms as I helped her climb the ladder.
I clear my throat. “He sounds like a good captain."
“He was. He drew us a flag on an old piece of cardboard. He put hearts in the eyes of the skull because he said our pirate crew only sailed for love.” She laughs, the sound breaking my heart into a thousand pieces.
“Sometimes I wish I could go back there. Life was simple when we were just playing pirates on the playground.”
She looks at my tattoo again. “Your tattoo... it has the hearts in the eyes, too. Just like his drawing.” Her eyes flutter shut.
The exhaustion wins the battle; her breathing settles into a deep, rhythmic pace.
She falls asleep, her hand still resting near the open handcuff and the knotted-dildo still inside her.
I wait for three minutes before I cut the connection.
I pull off the skull mask and drop it on the floor.
I lean back in the chair, my chest heaving as I stare at the dark monitor.
I look down at the tattoo on my ribs. I got the ink because of those memories.
I loved playing pirates, too. She always drew our pirate flag with hearts for the eyes, and I made sure my tattoo had the same.
I wanted the hearts. I wanted the reminder of the only time in my life when I felt truly happy and wanted.
“I’m still your captain, Sunflower,” I whisper into the empty room.