I smile, feeling my toes curl in anticipation. He doesn’t tell me to close my eyes again, so I watch as he picks out from the drawer a thick, black rubber buttplug and a bottle of oil.
“Oh fuck,” I huff, both excited and nervous. I’ve learned to enjoy the sting of being penetrated there, but judging by the tent in Reed’s pants, the plug isn’t all he has in mind.
Reed oils up the toy and my tight hole, then presses the plug to my tight tip. I relax, letting the toy sink in without too much resistance. Now that I’ve learned I can tolerate and even enjoy having my ass filled, I don’t tense up at the prospect. Despite this, Reed still presses it in rather slowly, allowing me time to adjust as it sinks deeper. Once the widest part of the plug passes through my tight muscle, the rest slides in easily.
After wiping the excess oil from his hand with a rag, Reed unzips his pants and climbs onto the bed behind me. He caresses my pussy with two fingers, sliding them into my folds.
“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I purr.
“Then I’ll make you a promise: if you keep getting punished all day, I’ll make it better every night.”
“I can live with that,” I say.
“Good.”
Then Reed withdraws his fingers and guides his cock up to my drenched entrance. My inner walls close hungrily on his thick rod as it plunges inside. His cock presses against the plug in my ass from within, evoking wave after wave of exquisite rapture.
Groaning in his own pleasure, Reed thrusts into me like a machine, hammering harder and harder. His cock feels like a steel rod, filling me completely. He grips my shoulders, using his strong hands to keep me still as he bucks his body into mine. Being taken from behind, I feel utterly used, but I love it.
As his pounding gets faster, I start to howl, my voice rising in pitch and volume like a boiling kettle. My shriek hits a crescendo when Reed reaches around and tugs on my nipple clamps, reminding me of their presence with a renewed burst of pain. Laughing at my reaction, Reed smacks my ass a few times, which inflames the bruises from my whipping and impacts the buttplug, eliciting too many sensations for me to process all at once; it all becomes a blur of pleasure and pain until I can barely tell the two apart.
“Can I come?” I mumble, rapidly approaching the brink of my next orgasm. “Can I-”
“Sure,” Reed grunts, raising his rhythm even faster.
Grateful, I dive into the tide of ecstasy that flows out from my core and into every part of me. I start to scream, loudly and without any self-awareness. For some reason, Reed stops for a moment; when I turn to look, he’s reaching over the side of the bed for something: my panties. Grinning, he stuffs the sodden garment into my mouth, then seals his palm over my lips.
Oh, fucking hell!
Musty from hours of pent-up arousal, the overpowering taste repulses me. Yet, my orgasm rises even higher, spurred on by my helplessness in this moment — dominated by Reed, totally in his control — all of my holes in use, a well of pain hiding in the background… it’s fucked up, and it’s perfect.
Reed plows the length of his massive cock all the way in and tugs at the buttplug, and I can’t take any more. My orgasm hits such a high peak that I climb back into subspace. In the back of my mind I can still feel every source of pleasure — every touch, thrust, tug and slap — but now I’m above it all, fed by its seemingly endless energy.
I’m so high on bliss I barely register Reed’s climax, but I feel his hot seed burst inside me, and I hear his euphoric grunts as he milks out every last drop. He turns me over and lays me down against his body, holding me against him as we ride out the pleasure. Silent aside from our breathing, we feel at peace — as though the whole world is this room and none of the misery outside it can bother us.
As soon as I think about it, though, it all comes back. Prescott and Byron and Jefferson. Edwin and Hunter. Jacqueline and Amber. All of them living out this moment somewhere else, and none of them experiencing the same love and pleasure as Reed and I. Guilt claims the remainder of my satisfied glow, wishing the other women could have some hope for our futures. They don’t have Reed to comfort them — if anything, they see him the way I see Prescott and the others.
“Reed, can I ask you something?” I could use a glass of water and some more ointment for my skin, but I’m too exhausted to move.
“Anything,” he says, giving my body a soft squeeze and kissing my neck.
“How do I know this is for real?” I ask, thinking about Amber’s warning. “When we’re together, what we have feels real, and I want to believe that it is, but how can I be sure? You’ve been working here for years, and what you’ve done to the other women…”
Reed nods and rubs my shoulders. “I understand, Quinn. My actions in the past… I felt I was doing something just. I was tormenting killers and criminals, and ensuring they can’t hurt anyone else. That’s what Prescott told me, and I believed him. But now, I’m seeing things differently, thanks to you. I don’t know if what I’ve done can be forgiven, or what I’m going to do about Prescott. My world doesn’t make a lot of sense right now.”
Prescott? What else is there to do but either kill him or expose his crimes to the world?
“What do you mean? What doesn’t make sense?”
Reed sighs and brushes back my hair. “I’ll try to explain.”
Chapter 25
I reach down to Quinn’s breast and release the clamps on her nipples. She looks down in shock, I guess because she forgot they were still there. She bites her lip from the painful return of sensation in her breasts. Shifting in place on top of me causes her to grimace, likely realizing she’s still got that plug in her ass. I swallow a grin, deciding to leave that alone for now.
Get serious, man. This is important.