“That’s right. No matter what. You don’t want that cream getting on your fingers because it might end up somewhere very, very bad. And if it ends up somewhere bad on me, what happens to you?”
“The chastity belt,” I whispered.
“That’s right. The chastity belt, and no orgasms all week.”
He undid my bonds and I clasped my hands in front of me with the effort not to reach back and soothe the sting. If I could paint what my ass felt like, it would literally be an entire canvas of flames. “I hate the naughty cream,” I said, wiping away my tears. “I really, really hate it.”
He smiled at me. “I know, baby. That’s why I use it a lot. Now, let’s get you to the table so I can fuck your ass. Go on. Crawl up there. Lie on your back.”
Our sex table was a re-purposed medical table with attachment points of just about every type. Tonight, he pulled my arms up and cuffed them over my head. It was merciful, because then I couldn’t lose control and try to rub the pain off my ass. My waist was buckled down near the other end of the table so my ass hung off the edge, the better for him to fuck me. My legs were left flailing in my flower-cuffed socks. So much for romance. He gripped my thighs and held them open, his heavy cock falling down against my sore pussy.
“I bet you’d like me in here,” he said, slapping his cock against my folds. “You want my cock in your nice, wet pussy?”
I lay helpless as he pressed halfway in. My clit zinged to life, ready for his touch, ready to come. I bucked my hips, but he only pulled back out. “It would be too easy for you to come like that,” he said. “When are you allowed to come? When’s the only time you’re allowed to come, baby?”
“With something in my ass,” I said, sniffling.
“Yes, that’s our rule, isn’t it? Do you want to come?”
I nodded. Yes, yes, yes. My ass burned. My clit throbbed. I needed release, needed all this pain to come together and make sense.
“Your little clit makes it too easy for you to come, doesn’t it?” he asked, his eyes alight with sadistic challenge. “It’s so sensitive. We’d better take care of that so you can focus on having your ass fucked, don’t you think?”
These were all rhetorical questions. He was the only one who got to answer. He opened a drawer in the side of the table and took out one of the small, biting clit clamps I’d come to dread.
“I know you don’t like this,” he said as I squirmed. “But it’s better to learn to come from Sir’s cock in your ass, instead of clitoral stimulation. You want to be a good little maso, don’t you?”
A tear slipped down my cheek. “Yes, Sir. Please…”
“Please what, baby?”
“Please hurt my clit so it won’t help me come while your cock’s in my ass.”
“Okay,” he said. “I think that’s a great idea.”
My hips bucked as he applied the clamp to my tender, teeming nub. All pleasure fled, replaced by sharp pain, but there was another sensation taking over me. He lubed his cock and spread some lube around my asshole. The cold, liquid slipperiness contrasted with the heat burning my bottom.
“Owww,” I said. He pressed the head of his cock against my hole, and while I’d learned to stay open for him, it was still hard to let him in without tensing first. His hands tightened on my knees, pushing them back, spreading them wide. It made the penetration feel even more invasive. I hid my face in the side of my arm.
“No, Juliet. Look at me.”
I opened my eyes and obeyed, sighing as he pressed deeper.
“Does that hurt, baby?”
My voice quivered in a sob. “Yes, Sir. It hurts so bad. It burns. It aches.”
“Oh, no,” he said, in a voice that meant oh, yes. He pressed deeper, sliding along the lubricant-eased passage, filling me to the hilt, then tilting my hips and forcing himself deeper. He braced his hands on either side of me and arched over my body, bumping his hips against my thighs, riding me, forcing me open for his pleasure. Even in the clamp’s metal grip, my clit responded, throbbing to life again. I yanked at the cuffs as Fort leaned over me, rubbing his rough, stubbled cheek against my temple, breathing in my lust and fear. “You know why I hurt you, Sparkles…”
“Yes, Sir. Because you l-love me. And I submit to you because I love you.”
He licked my lips, then licked my tears, kissing them away. “It’s wonderful how that works, isn’t it? We fit together, you and me.”
Like clock gears in a platinum setting. Like the engagement diamond I wore on my left hand that never came off, even during scenes. I twisted it as my fingers scrabbled in my bonds. All our past hurts and disappointments were forgotten, or at least pushed away to make room for a new connection, a new freedom to love.
“Look at me,” he insisted. I did, my eyes alight with pure, unconditional desire.