Page 115 of The Spare
Despite my best efforts, my orgasm slams into me, but I'm stuck.
I flinch, screaming. "Masooonn!" I yell. "I cannn't! I cannn't."
He lets up the slack on my arms, letting me lean forward a little, still fucking me through it.
"What's the matter?" he asks in an indifferent tone, almost as if he was asking me what I wanted in my coffee.
"I can't take it, Mason," I gasp, "I can't take-"
He snatches me back up, until my back is to his front. "The word you're looking for is'nothing,’slut. Because there's nothing wrongwith you. You've only had two orgasms,soI don't want to fucking hear it.Don't be fucking weak.Now crawl, this time to our bathroom."
He reaches over and snatches his phone up, pressing a few buttons.
"What are you doing?" I whimper.
"Don't worry about it,"he says, with a wicked smile tipping his mouth. He slides it in his pants pocket, and then firms his grip on the belt around my wrists.
I cry and come, cry and come the entire way to the bathroom. I shuffle until my knees are raw, and when I try to stop, he holds me in place and gives me another orgasm. By the time we make it halfway, I'm shivering with pleasure. By the time we make it to the bedroom, he lets me place my forehead on the floor, screaming with something like my fifth orgasm.
Weak, just like he doesn't want me to be.
"Crawl," he enunciates slowly.
It's then I hear the running water coming from the bathroom.
We make it slowly, my knees getting a temporary relief from the hardwood floor as they now sink into the plush carpet of our master bedroom. The burning comes back though as we enter the bathroom where the floor is marble. He leads me to the clawfoot bathtub that's steaming with fresh water.
I stare at our reflections, and he stops thrusting.
My body is dripping sweat, my hair is matted, and my mascara is running. Relief fills me as I realize I'm about to get clean. He's granting me mercy. My pussy spasms. He sits high and hard inside me still. I don't care, as long as I get in the tub.
"Now, sweetie, do you happen to know the definition of what ‘nothing’ means?"
I hesitate, feeling the blood drain out of my face. "Like-like the official Webster definition of nothing?" I ask quietly, my eyes flicking, trying to think of the official answer.
"Yup. What's the definition?"
"Uhm," I wet my lips. "I don't…I don't know…"
"Hold your breath," he says, shoving me in the water. I suck in a quick breath right before he plunges my head in, and I flinch as he starts those slapping thrusts. I orgasm quickly, squeezing my eyes shut and forcing my lips shut tight, fighting my bodily instincts to suck in a sharp breath at the pleasure.
He yanks me back out, and I cough and sputter, gasping on a ragged inhalation of air. He rolls his hips slowly, making me feel every thick inch of him.
Oh my God.
"The definition ofnothingis having no prospect of progress, of no value," he says, putting his hand to the back of my head. "So, to make sure you understand what 'nothing’ is you're staying under until you have no air in your lungs. Suck in another deep breath, and make it count."
I get exactly three seconds to suck in a breath of air before he pushes my head back in.
The water flows around my head and weighs my hair down, and he starts thrusting again. With his other hand he reaches around and pinches my nipple, tugging mercilessly.
I flinch in pleasure, squirming against his touch, and struggling as I'm not able to breathe. My lungs burn, as does my pussy. He thrusts, moving his hand to my clit and scraping his fingernail across it. It shocks me so bad I scream despite my best efforts, and huge bubbles of air float to the surface.
He doesn't let me up, though, so I close my mouth to keep from choking, but my eyes are wide open. My heart slams into my ribcage as I stare wide-eyed at the bottom of the tub as panic begins to set in.
I jerk against the belt on my arms, bucking into him.
I put my foot flat on the floor and push, but he tightens his hold on me.
