Page 43 of Lost Petal

His eyes are foggy when he finally looks down at me, an ominous promise darkening his gaze as he moves up to my face, grabbing my hair and tilting my chin up with one hand while he uses the other to guide his hard length toward my mouth.

“Clean me.”

His voice is hoarse and marked by exhaustion, and there’s no chance to refuse him before he shoves his dripping length between my lips. I’m so anguished by lust that I do as I’m told without trying to get away. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. He’s holding me in such a tight grip there’s nowhere for me to go.

I take him in, choking on his length while my lips wrap around his impressive girth. He’s so big that I’m already at my limit when he’s just halfway inside my mouth, his tip already pressing against the back of my throat.

Yet he continues to press forward, moving in little thrusts as he uses my mouth to clean himself. Cum and spit are running down the sides of my mouth while I press my tongue against the lower side of his shaft. I don’t know if he just never lost wood or if fucking my face like this has done this to him, but he’s as rock-hard as can be, stealing my breath with his massiveness.

I’m coughing when he retreats, leaving me gasping for air as he climbs off the bed. My teary eyes are half-closed and my coughing fit too overwhelming to realize what he’s doing. But I can tell that he disappears for a moment, only to return shortly after, holding something in his hands. I’m still in the process of blinking away tears, still dizzy and confused, when a sharp pain in my left nipple yanks me back to reality with brute force.

My eyes fly open, a fresh set of tears rolling down my cheeks as I lift my head to look at my chest. He casts me an evil grin, tightening the metal clamp around my left nipple even more before he holds up another clamp that’s connected to the first with a metal chain.

“No, no, no,” I plead, shaking my head with desperate hurry.

“Oh yes.” He concludes his words with another sting of pain as he fastens the second clamp around my other nipple, the cold chain draping across my ribcage while I burst out in an anguished shriek.

The first bite is the worst, and a hot pulsing remains after the clamps are secured around my nipples and he lets go of them. He takes a step back, fixing his pants and closing his belt while his eyes rest on my heaving body.

“I should take a picture of you,” he says, smiling with malevolence. “Maybe I will. Later.”

With that, he turns his back on me, ignoring my anguished pleas as I have to watch him walk away.

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