Chapter 17 Jace #3
Pulling out, I watched my seed leak from him, mixing with the lube.
He panted, body limp, but I wasn’t done.
I picked him back up and carried him back to the couch.
There, I sat with him in my lap, his wrists trapped between his back and my front.
My fingers dipped into the mess I’d made, scooping cum and pushing it back inside him, working him open slowly.
“What hurts?”
“My penis,” he whispered, voice breaking. “And my… my balls.”
“Poor, helpless baby. Do you need your Daddy’s help?” I fingered him lazily now, drawing it out, my other hand stroking over the bars of his cage.
Elior bit back a sob, nodding.
“Oh, my sweet boy,” I cooed, petting his hair. “You can’t do anything without me, hm?”
“Need you, Daddy, p-p-please,” he stuttered, his chin trembling.
“I don’t understand what the issue is. You’ve come just fine from only anal before.”
“But—but you keep stopping right before—”
“Shhh, baby. I know just what you need.” I couldn’t suppress my grin as I stood up once more with him in my arms, walking us to the bathroom.
I lowered Elior into the empty bathtub, staring at the gorgeous fucking picture he made. The black of his blindfold was a stark contrast to the paleness of Elior’s skin and the lightness of his hair. His lips were swollen and red. The freckles on his cheeks were highlighted by his tears.
His tortured little cock was an angry reddish-purple beneath the thin metal bars.
I had half a mind to take a picture and send it to Patel.
Just to show off that this magnificent creature was mine.
But no. Firstly, because I would have to gouge out his eyes after, and secondly, because he would most definitely see it and think it was me confessing to finally snapping and kidnapping Elior.
“Stay right there, baby boy,” I murmured, brushing a damp kiss to Elior’s forehead before standing and leaving for the bedroom.
It took only a minute to find what I was searching for—the Hitachi wand—a beast of a massager, its bulbous head designed to deliver unrelenting vibrations that could shatter someone in seconds. As I was about to return to the bathroom, I paused, grabbing my phone before going.
I needed a picture of the aftermath of what was about to occur. Just for my personal collection.
I returned quietly to the bathroom. Elior didn’t even notice I was back until the soft click of the vibrator’s switch echoed in the tiled room. The low hum started, building quickly to a deep, powerful buzz that vibrated through the air itself.
“Daddy? What’s that sound?”
I smirked, then climbed in the tub myself. I straddled Elior’s legs, to his confusion.
Without a word, I pressed the wand’s head against the base of his cock cage.
The vibrations hit like a thunderclap, surging through Elior with a brutal intensity. A sharp cry tore from his throat, and he began to thrash, as I’d expected. Luckily, with my weight on him, he couldn’t get away.
“Daddy!” he yelled, voice cracking.
“That’s it, cherub,” I soothed. “Let Daddy help you.”
His back arched, thighs shaking, but I kept the wand steady, not allowing him any respite.
The pleasure built fast, too fast—no edging now, just raw overload.
Elior’s breath came in ragged pants, his toes curling against the tub’s bottom.
“I can’t—it’s too much! Please! I’m gonna die!
No, n-no—” His pleas dissolved into wordless moans as the vibrations rattled his balls, forcing him ever closer toward the edge.
I watched with dark hunger, my own arousal stirring again at the sight of Elior’s desperation, although there was no way I was going to be able to go for another round.
“Let it happen, baby. Give it to me.”
Elior’s body stiffened, ropes of cum spurting out of the cage, his cock pulsing wildly. A guttural scream echoed off the walls, his body convulsing in ecstasy that bordered on pain.
But I didn’t stop. The vibrations kept going, dragging Elior through the aftershocks into hypersensitivity.
His face twisted in panic. “No, no, no, Daddy—stop—something else is coming! Stop, p-please! No, no—”
“Give it to me, El.” My voice was steady, commanding, as I pressed the massager harder against the base of the cage, feeling the vibrations thrum through his core.
“No, please, Daddy!” He writhed, trying to twist away from me, his bound hands clenching into fists as the pressure built unbearably in his lower belly.
“Let go, cherub. Now.”
A choked sob escaped him, and then it happened—his hips jerked forward, and a gush of clear fluid squirted from around the cage’s bars, forceful and uncontrollable, spraying out in hot, rhythmic bursts.
It mixed with the remnants of his cum, the sensation ripping yet another strangled cry from his throat as the waves of the intense release washed over him, his muscles quaking from the forced squirting that left him utterly spent.
“Fucking perfect,” I breathed, reaching for my phone and opening the camera app.
Elior sat there twitching, covered in the mess I’d drawn out of him.
Gorgeous—another one for the locked folder.