Chapter 11
Penelope
My heart jackhammers in my chest when Jacob sets the glass of water on the nightstand and then sits on his knees between my bound, trembling legs. My muscles feel like they’ve been liquified with as many times as Jacob has brought me to a punishing orgasm, and I can’t do anything other than shake in terror at the dark look in his eyes and the promise of more payback. He could do any number of things to my body, and I’m wholly powerless to stop him.
I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
Jacob strokes his thick, heavy cock that I’ve missed every night since he rejected me, a fat bead of pre-cum welling at the swollen tip. I want to suck it like I do the juice of a maraschino, then twirl my tongue around his dick like a cherry stem. As if he can hear my thoughts, he gathers his pre-cum on his fingertips and swipes them across my lips.
He growls when I moan and lick it all up, searching for more of his taste, then spit in his hand when he tells me to. I watch through half-lidded eyes as he drags his wet palm up and down to slick his shaft, my pussy wet and waiting for him while his big, barrel chest heaves.
“You have any idea what you did to me?” My brows bunch as I fight the unnatural drowsiness threatening to pull me under again, my mind working at half its normal speed. “Remember how many times you fucked me while I was unconscious until my dick felt like it was going to fall off? Because I don’t. I have no clue how many times you took me. Made me cum inside you while I was tied up and helpless.”
“Oh. Um…” I bite the inside of my cheek. This is the part where I’m supposed to apologize, but I can’t form the coherency to do so yet.
“I couldn’t so much as look at you without getting an erection, and that shit was so goddamn painful, I thought it would kill me.”
Understanding finally dawns, hope rising up through the thick fog of despair I’ve been suffering. “Is that why you wouldn’t let me into your apartment? And why you avoided me at school?”
“Yes,” he bites out. “I was scared my dick would have been permanently disfigured if I’d fucked you again so soon.”
“So you don’t hate me? Think I’m scum or that I’m crazy or—”
“Oh no, you’re certifiably insane.” My hope crashes and burns. “Just like me, Mama.” With that, my belly flutters wildly, and Jacob crawls on top of me, then braces his elbows on either side of my outstretched arms. Almost close enough to kiss, he says with a wicked voice, “You’re going to take your stepson’s cock and thank me for every drop of cum I give you, Mama.”
He roughly shoves the entire length of his cock inside me, punching the air right out of my lungs and undoubtedly bruising my cervix. Thank all that is holy that he prepped me with the dildo, or he’d have ripped me apart.
Gasping for air like my head has broken through the surface after a near drowning, I recover enough to rasp, “Thank you, baby. Thank you for coming back to Mama. I missed you.” If I had any more tears left, they would flow freely with euphoria.
Jacob vows with glassy eyes, “I’ll always come back to you, Mama.” He crushes my lips with his and thrusts his tongue in my mouth, tasting like the sugar cookies I made last night and left sitting in the cookie jar on the kitchen counter. He pulls back enough to say, “I won’t live another minute of this life without you. You’re stuck with me whether you want me or not.”
“I do, baby, I do!”
“You sure about that?” He pushes himself up and yanks his cock out with an evil glint as he rakes his gaze down my quivering body, then to my side at the discreet box of sex toys he must have found in my closet. It hits me then that he must have broken in at some point and gone through my things, but I can’t find it within me to care.
My neck aches with the effort to lift my head to see what Jacob pulls from the box. There’s the distinct pop of a cap—a sound I know all too well after getting myself off for so many years—and he smears a generous amount of lube around my asshole.
If I thought I was trembling beforehand, it’s nothing compared to the violent seizing of my muscles when he holds up the scissors I keep in my junk drawer with one hand and the plastic packaging of the anal beads I’ve been too chicken shit to open and try out in his other hand.
“No, not that,” I beg.
“You don’t get a say in what I do to you, Mama, just like I didn’t get a say last weekend.”
“No, please, you can’t. I’ve never had anything back there.”
“Perfect.” Jacob cuts through the thick plastic and makes a show of going to the bathroom to cleanse them, then holds them up high so I can watch as he lubes each of the six black beads on the string, arranged in a row from the smallest to the largest.
My back arches, shoulders straining past their limits when he pushes the first bead inside my virgin asshole. “Stop! Stop!”
Ignoring me, he presses my vibrator to my ruined clit, making me scream as he simultaneously pushes the next bead in, then the next, then the next. My ass burns as it continues to stretch, and I’m fucking petrified by the knowledge that there are still two more beads to go.
“Jacob! I can’t take any more.”
“Yes, you can. You’ll take whatever I give you from now on.”
I beg for mercy as he pours more lube on my ass, then pushes the fifth bead in, using more strength to force the others deeper inside me to make room for it as I bare down, trying to push them out. It’s the sixth and final unbearably large anal bead that has my soul trying to leave my body and fly away on the cusp of another climax.
Jacob drops the vibrator, then braces himself on top of me, his weight pinning me flat to the bed. “You’re mine now, Penelope. Forever.”
His sweet sincerity and unending commitment to me tether my heart and soul to him for the rest of my life—they’re also a stark contrast to the brutality he exerts when he savagely thrusts back inside my pussy. The pleasure of his shaft sliding across each bead, making them ripple in my ass, is too much for my body to handle.
The last thing I remember after I orgasm and everything goes dark is Jacob kissing down my jaw to whisper in my ear, “I love you. I can’t wait to see you holding our baby.”
Jacob
At one point, I thought I was going to have to call an ambulance since Penelope didn’t wake again until I ripped out the anal beads stuffing her ass, then filled her pussy with my cum for the umpteenth time. I’ve got nothing left in me, and my cock is just as raw as it was last weekend, but at least it’s on my terms.
“How does it feel being on the other side, huh?” I ask with a smirk that I don’t feel as I untie her left wrist because, in truth, my stomach is in knots, concerned about how far I’ve taken this payback plan of mine. Her pussy is so swollen and alarmingly red that I’m scared I’ve done her some permanent damage.
When she turns to me, caresses the area above my heart, and smiles, I almost can’t believe it. “Feels perfect.”
“But…you were literally crying and begging me to stop,” I point out, once again eyeing her pussy and contemplating driving her to the emergency room.
“Like I said…perfect.”
“You’re insane,” I whisper. “I fucking love you so much.”
After sharing a breathless kiss with the psychotic love of my life, I untie the rest of her bindings and massage her sore muscles and joints. Peeling myself and Penelope from the soiled sheets, I carry her on legs made of jelly into the shower, both of us hissing with pain and tearing up as I wash our achingly raw bodies.
Penelope lies limp in the bed after I change the sheets. She waits for me silently while I gather the sustenance we need to survive the rest of the weekend and bags of ice for our lower halves. Neither of us can bear the weight of her quilt on our feverish skin as we lie next to each other, and she introduces me to the world of Bridgerton .
As curvy and beautiful as the Penelope on the show is, I turn away from the laptop during her intimate scenes with Colin. My Penelope is the only one I want to see undressed and in the throes of pleasure.
Sunday night, after hiring movers to pack up my apartment and bring everything to Penelope’s house, I attempt to celebrate officially moving in with her by making love to her from behind. She howls, though, and attempts to throw herself off the bed when I get two inches of my oversized cock inside her. I pull back, leaving just my tip in, and clench my teeth through the pain of jacking the base where it’s the least sensitive until I cum. Now she’ll be able to sleep all night filled to the brim with me.
* * *
My second week of teaching is a complete one-eighty from the first as I dive into my lessons, confidently and energetically sharing my passion with my students. I still have to sit at my desk with ice on my lap, but I’m high on life and the fact that Penelope is just down the hall, my baby possibly already forming in her womb.
I continue to avoid her in the halls so I don’t do something impulsive—like drag her out to the brand new neon purple Jeep Wrangler I bought her and fuck her while our students are at lunch since we’re still healing. But every night, I get to go home with her, bend her over the nearest surface as soon as we walk in, and jack my cock with my head pressed to her entrance until I cum.
By the end of my first month, some of my students are starting to show interest in class as I move freely about the room and engage in discussions about the political climate and the social and civil rights movements during the Vietnam War era. It’s invigorating and reminds me daily of why I chose to be a teacher instead of doing graphic design full-time.
Feeling on top of the world with the plane tickets and Penelope’s ring tucked safely in my laptop bag, I make my way to her classroom an hour after the last bell rings on Friday, both of us excited to see the results of the pregnancy test she’s going to take this weekend. The lights are still on in her classroom, but it’s empty, her cell phone ringing from her tote bag on her desk when I try calling her.
Leaving my bag next to hers, I knock on Ms. Barry’s door and pop in to ask her if she knows where Penelope is, but her room is empty, too. So is Mr. Andrews’s classroom and the restrooms I pass on my way to the teacher’s lounge—my last stop before I really start to worry.