Chapter 9 #2
He offered no words of reassurance. He didn’t tell me it would hurt more if I didn’t relax.
He didn’t acknowledge me at all once the final safeword crap was out of the way.
He just pressed the head of his cock against my opening and pushed.
Pushed, pushed, pushed—in one long, painful thrust, he stretched me out and buried himself deep inside me, stealing my ability to breathe.
The onslaught of pain was so immense that I became trapped in my own body.
Liquid fire met the sharpest knives that had to be made of ice or something.
He didn’t stop either. He started fucking me right away, with Rigger kneading my butt cheeks and brushing his fingers right where Daddy was taking me.
The burn spread to my lungs, and I knew I had to breathe. I also knew that when I did, the jig would be up. Every ounce of hurt would pour out of me; I’d start bawling my eyes out and beg for mercy.
I would lose all my composure.
Daddy groaned and punched his cock into me, fucking me harder and like a goddamn savage. Over and over, into the mattress, and I was out of air.
Oh God, oh God, oh God, someone save me!
The panic was back, threatening to consume me, and left me no choice. I had to fucking breathe.
The time was up. I shoved the pillow away from me, gasped for air, and unleashed all the pain.
I let out a wailing cry so loud that they probably heard it downstairs.
Black spots filled my vision, tears started falling, and I couldn’t fucking move.
I wouldn’t have been able to fight him even if I’d wanted, I was so paralyzed by the assault.
It fucked with my mind too, knowing that the slightest pinch on his hand would end it all.
I felt him. He made sure his hand brushed against my own—but that was another part of the mindfuck.
I wasn’t scared. Everything just hurt so bad, but my fears were wiped from the surface of the earth.
“Pinch me twice for green, Jordan,” he gritted out.
I let out a sob and flexed my fingers. Trembling, still too rigid, I found the side of his hand and pinched twice.
That was all he needed. He fucked me faster, filling the air with the sound of him pounding into me, and now that he knew I could safeword, maybe he felt that he could let go. He gripped my hips forcefully and pulled me up on all fours, and Rigger appeared in front of me.
He fisted my hair and caused another round of breathless sobs. I couldn’t speak or plead or curse. I could only choke, gasp, and cry my eyes out. They pushed the pain into me, and I pushed it right out again by sobbing.
Rigger pried my fingers from the sheets and moved my hands to his thighs, and he repeated what Daddy had told me. In case I couldn’t safeword verbally, I could pinch him.
I didn’t pinch him. Instead, I sank deeper into the pain, and crying slowly became a relief.
Like it was releasing something more than the hurt they caused.
My ass was on fucking fire, and I’d never been fucked so brutally, but I was detecting a sliver of light in the dark.
Different kinds of tensions were leaving me.
Rigger kneaded my shoulders and neck, down my shoulder blades and back, then up again to tug painfully at my hair.
I cried. I cried so hard.
Tears streamed down my face.
“He’s doing this for you, little duck.”
No, no, noooo! I couldn’t stomach more mindfucks. The comfort in Rigger’s voice—and his new nickname—punched a hole in me. Left me raw, left me open, left me little.
“P-please,” I sobbed. “Please, please, p-please!”
“Please, what?” Rigger dipped down and kissed me on the forehead, and he began brushing my tears away.
“I don’t know, I don’t know!” I wailed.
“That’s okay, sweet boy. You don’t have to know a single thing.” He combed his fingers through my hair, sending a shiver through me at the same time as Daddy’s cock brought me suffering. “That’s the beauty of letting go, isn’t it? We will take care of everything.”
I wanted that so much. I didn’t wanna be in control so often. I wanted to serve and please and be a good boy for them. I was desperate to follow rather than lead. I ached to ask for permission instead of having to make rules.
I needed to apologize to my husband…
Good God, what an uphill struggle he’d had with me. He’d seen all this. He’d warned me. He was…essentially the Nathan to my Ash. I’d insisted for so long that everything would be good if we just continued the way we had.
I hadn’t been as against exploring another dynamic as Ash had, but I’d definitely dragged my feet. I’d denied my submissive identity.
I was clearly not done weeping.
Daddy made it easy for me. Rather than striking and spanking, he squeezed me roughly. He kneaded my flesh, he pinched me, he raked his blunt fingernails along my spine, creating a trail of fire. He marked me. I’d wake up with his fingerprints all over me tomorrow.
Next, he was the one who fisted my hair, and he yanked me back toward him.
Ow!
“Do you know what you are now, boy?”
Pitiful? A blubbering mess? In the deep end of the pool without my floaties?
“Ours. Our property. We own you, Jordan.”
Oh my God.
He pulled me back farther and wrapped a hand loosely around my throat, all while forcing his cock in and out of me in shallow thrusts.
It wasn’t supposed to be turning me on when I was in so much pain.
I wasn’t that kind of masochist. Mild pain turned me on.
The severe kind pissed me off and fueled the prey in me.
But here I fucking was, coming alive as Daddy used me.
I’m their property. Everything he did, I registered somehow.
The smallest twitch of his fingers digging into my skin, the faint hitch in his breath whenever he pushed in, the budding bruises from his grabbing—and then Rigger.
He was there too. Grabbing my jaw, kissing me forcefully.
Holy shit, holy shit, I became aware of everything. We were far from alone in the room. I couldn’t bring myself to look, but I heard them. Moans and whimpers. Quiet commands. pleading. This wasn’t just a Finlay or two, or Cam and Master Lucian; it was way more.
The last shred of composure escaped me with a breathless moan, and I threw myself into the sensations of zero control. I started meeting Daddy’s thrusts, I clung to Rigger, and I felt feverish with need.
“Please,” I begged. “I w-wanna take care of you, Sir. May I suck you, please?”
“There’s our good boy,” Daddy grunted.
“So good,” Rigger whispered into a kiss. “You may, sweet boy.”
This was heaven.
Delirious, delirious heaven.
I didn’t have to make any decisions at all!
Daddy and James became my personal sex swing.
They held me up and essentially folded me in half so that Rigger could fuck me without any of my limbs in the way.
All I did was take it. I clenched down around him, feeling so freaking full, and stared up at him.
He was so powerful and hot and tense. His body glistened.
So did mine. So did Daddy’s, but I couldn’t see him at the moment because he was my back pillow.
But if I reached up, I could kiss his jaw a little.
Oh, that worked. He smirked down at me and gave me a much better kiss, with tongue and passion and assertiveness. He was in control. I was not. I’d said goodbye to being in charge.
I snaked my arms around his neck, as much as I could reach, and kissed him with everything I had. At the same time, I heard someone coming in the background. Crying out for Daddy, crying out for Owner. Whispers and curses danced with the heavy charge in the air.
“Please, Daddy,” I whimpered.
Daddy hummed and reached down to grasp my dick.
I moaned.
“Hold it a little while longer, baby boy.”
“Yes, Rigger,” I cried.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
He groaned as he started coming, and James shuffled around, having been promised he could eat me out once both Daddy and Rigger had filled me with their come. Meanwhile, I was so freaking desperate to get off that I was back to crying!
I was also back on all fours, and I had to think about paying bills and watching golf to stave off my orgasm. It didn’t help that Daddy touched me!
I blinked and accidentally glanced over at the next bed, and I almost swallowed my tongue.
Holy hell. Master Greer was absolutely railing Archie while Corey and Sloan sixty-nined each other.
And in the far back, past Noa’s bed, Mister Colt was fucking Kit’s mouth and making out with Mr. West. People I didn’t recognize were here too. And—oh fuck.
Too close!
I screwed my eyes shut, the pleasure building up too much, too fast.
“I can’t stop, Sir—please, please, please, please,” I blubbered.
“Hold it, boy,” Daddy growled.
He squeezed my cock tightly, and I cried out. Rigger rocked into me once more, panting and slowly coming down from his high.
“Please, Daddy! Please!”
When Rigger eventually pulled out and let James get started, I was sure I’d never been so desperate before.
Sweating and crying, fighting to hold back, rigid like a stick, I was finally shown mercy.
While James buried his tongue in me, Daddy held me up on my knees, and Rigger bent down and sucked my dick into his mouth.
“Now you can let go, little one,” Daddy whispered.
It was not pretty. Not even a second later, I fell apart.
I couldn’t support my own weight. The bliss was too great.
I had no strength left. Collapsing against Daddy’s side, I drowned in absolute euphoria.
Rigger’s warm and wet mouth, James’s eager tongue—I was so done.
I came hard, gasped and bawled, and decided right then and there that I had to show them—at some point—that I could be cute when I got off too. I didn’t always look like roadkill.
“I wanna stop crying, Daddy.” I sniffled and wiped at my face for the thousandth time.