Chapter 30 #2
She’s biting on her lower lip, dancing on her feet from the continuous assault, her hands going back to find mine.
“Palms on the wall,” I growl, and she obeys. I’m satisfied that at the very least, she’s submissive when it comes to sex.
But it’s not enough.
I’m driving my fingers into her hard, finding pleasure in the fact that her pussy is soaked, and she’s not getting any relief. I’m not either, my cock painfully hard in my shorts, but I know it’ll only make it better later when I come.
I’m not sure I’ll be letting her have an orgasm, though.
“Please, Quill…” she moans, having clearly forgotten, at least temporarily, the scholarship. “Please, touch me, Quill…”
There’s an actual bead of moisture traveling down the side of her thigh, and I snort. My little glutton for pain.
“You want me to touch you, Piper?” I growl in her ear. “Where?”
“My… my… my labia…”
At that, I give her a stinging slap on her ass. “Your what?”
She represses a giggle, which morphs into a groan as I drive into her faster. “It’s the correct term, Quill!”
This girl. How the hell can she be so cute and so fucking hot at the same time?
I zero in on her lower stomach and dig my fingers in, and she shrieks in surprise, before writhing around desperately to try to get away.
But I’ve got her sandwiched between me and the wall, and every one of her little jumps and squirms just makes her bounce hard against my fingers still spearing her ass, until she’s sweating with pain and wheezing from the continued tickle torture.
“Where do you want me to touch you, Piper?” I growl again as I let up at last, and she sags against the wall, wetter than ever.
“My… my pussy,” she moans. “I want you to touch my pussy.”
I shift inside her and she inhales, clearly hoping I’ll leave her ass alone now, but she doesn’t know me very well if she thinks that’s going to happen.
Instead, I add a third finger to her tight hole, hissing as I feel her inner walls sucking them in.
Then I pull down her panties, which is definitely not as quick as just tearing them off, but maybe if she sees I listen to her about this, she’ll let the UCLA thing go.
Though somehow I doubt it.
I don’t know what I had in mind for her pussy, but when I reach it with my other hand, I decide that she doesn’t deserve anything but pain.
She moans loudly, probably expecting me to pleasure her now, but instead, I lift my hand up and let it fall, the smack against her pussy sounding all the louder as my hand comes into contact with her wet folds.
“OW! Quill!” she shrieks.
The pain in her voice makes me even harder.
I push her down to the ground forcefully, using my fingers still in her ass.
Then I take her clothes off entirely—which again takes much longer to do than just tearing them off—nudge her thighs apart so she’s on her hands and knees and I’m crouching behind her.
Soon I’m back to fingerfucking her ass hard while my hand is raining hard smacks on her pussy.
“Quill! Please! Quill!” she gasps, and I know she can’t tell if she’s pleading with me to stop or to go even faster.
She can’t tell, but I definitely can, because my cricket is the cutest little masochist there is.
So I pick up my pace, until she’s panting hard, all the fight out of her, her face crushed against the floor, her ass still raised from the force of my fingers driving into her.
By the time I’ve finished with her, her pussy is glowing redder than her ass cheeks usually are.
Pull down my shorts, I withdraw my fingers from her and grab my cock, hesitating to sink it into her beautiful ass, but I can tell she’s feeling pretty raw right now.
Pretty spent too, lying on the floor without an ounce of energy.
I flip her over to her back, drinking in the pale pink nipples that I definitely have not tortured enough today. I grab one and twist it between my fingers as with my other hand, I grip my cock hard, my balls tightening, and it only takes a few strokes for me to coat her breasts with my arousal.
“I want to come,” she moans.
“Do you think you deserve to?” I breathe against her as I admire the white streaks I’ve left on her body. “Have you been my good girl?”
“Yes, Quill.” A long, shaky sigh breaks free from her throat, and she looks like she’s about to fall asleep. She often does after our sessions, but I guess her frustration is keeping her awake. “Please make me come, Quill.”
“If I do, I don’t want to hear another word about that stupid scholarship,” I warn her.
“Mmmh-hmmm.”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“It’s a mmmh-hmmm.”
She looks up at me, probably wondering if that answer is enough to convince me. It’s not, but two can play at this game.
“Alright,” I say, lifting her onto my bed and then walking away.
“Quill!”
All her energy is back as she sits up, staring at me in confusion. “Where are you going?”
“Stay there.”
Her gaze is on me as I cross the room, open my lower desk drawer, and retrieve the purchase I made the other day. Then I turn back to her, admiring the cum on her breasts hardening to a crust. I can’t wait to scrub her tits later. But for now, I have a little surprise.
I hand her a box with a ribbon on top. “Happy UCLA day.”
She raises an eyebrow. “But I can’t go.”
“Of course you can. You’ll take that gap year, and then you’ll go.”
She clicks her tongue in impatience. “I told you, Quill. They revoked the scholarship. Because of you. So, no, I can’t!”
“You can still go,” I murmur in her ear. “You don’t need a scholarship.”
She grits her teeth as she probably gleans my meaning. I’ll pay. Though I don’t tell her yet my solution for keeping her with me: distance learning.
“I guess I can take out a loan,” she grumbles.
She’s looking away from me as she speaks, probably because she’s trying to rile me up. She knows there’s no fucking way I’d ever let her do that.
“Sure,” I agree, smirking at her surprised reaction. “Now open the box.”
“Uhm, thanks.”
I snort. “Open it before thanking me.”
I wrap my arms around her as she tugs at the ribbon and lifts the cover. Then she tries hard to glare at me, but she can’t disguise the excited, embarrassed flush that turns her face splotchy . “Seriously, Quill? What is this stuff?”
She tries to put the cover back on the box, but I’m quicker than her. In a flash, I’ve tumbled the objects out onto the bed and snapped the handcuffs around her wrists, pinning them behind her back.
“This is me making sure I don’t hear another word about that fucking scholarship,” I rumble in her ear, and she shivers as I press the ball gag into her mouth, tying it behind her.
It took me a surprisingly long amount of time to realize that the answer to making sure a ball gag stayed on her wasn’t a lock, but handcuffs to her wrists.
And two separate cuffs for her ankles, too, with a chain between them and more chains connecting to nipple clamps.
Which I press onto her breasts, causing her to yelp through her ball gag.
And yelp even harder when I screw them tight enough that the slightest wriggle will cause the chains to pull at her nipples.
At last she’s completely immobilized, and it’s a glorious fucking sight. Naked, gagged and bound, her legs wide from the way I’ve tied her ankles to the bed posts, everything accessible, everything mine.
Maybe I could just keep her like this. Forever.
But if I did, I’d miss her chirpy little voice.
Grabbing her thighs, I pull her into my favorite hands and knees position.
The cuffs have just enough give to them that I manage to bring her over me as she hisses in discomfort at the clamps tugging at her.
Then her stomach is pressed to my chest, her ass close to my face, her feet on either side of me, and I can’t resist lightly bringing my fingertips over the soles of them, causing her ass to bounce and a groan to escape her, muffled by the ball gag.
Which I’m already regretting because I can think of an even better way to gag her, as her face rubs against my dick. I’d shoved it back in my shorts, but now, I wriggle out of them, causing her to move again, her chains pulled taut against her nipples.
I’m hard again, grunting at the pain of it, so I guess it’s good she’s got the ball gag in her mouth still. But I keep her flush against me, her cheek against my cock frustrating the hell out of me.
Soon.
I rake at her soles a little while longer, relishing in just how helpless my ticklish cricket is to do anything about it. All she can do is squirm and then gurgle at the nipple clamps torturing her while her ass quivers in my face.
But at last I take pity on her. Well, maybe pity’s not the right word.
I’m definitely thinking of myself as I watch her ring of muscle opening and closing desperately in front of me at the torture I’m inflicting on her, and I can’t help but bring my tongue over it, tasting it.
She jumps, clearly startled, and I guess I’ve never licked her there before. But I can’t help it. It’s right in front of me, far too tantalizing.
It must feel very weird for her, and the gag in her mouth prevents me from knowing if she likes it or not as I drag my tongue over her asshole then dip it inside, claiming it with my tongue for the first time.
Then I set a rhythm, licking her all up and down her crack then fucking her asshole with my tongue.
Before long, she’s moaning through her gag, submitting, or at least accepting the new sensation.
Maybe it does feel good, because I guess the prolonged fingerfucking has left her pretty raw.
But just as she starts to get comfortable, sagging against me, breathing hard at both the new sensation and the momentary reprieve of the clamps pinching her nipples, I smack her ass hard, and she jolts, then whines, the clamps tugging once more.
I’m going to make sure she doesn’t forget those in a hurry.