Page 35 of Bottoms Up
Chapter 12
Silver
I had a clock going behind Julian, so he couldn’t see. I was beyond exhausted, shaking with the effort to keep going, and we still had forty minutes to go.
But stopping wasn’t an option. Neither was slowing down.
Back and forth from every direction. Ten minutes on one nut, ten minutes on the other. The first time, I’d spent seventeen minutes on the left before I felt it was flat enough for a good start, and I’d made sure I spent the same on the right one before I started just timing it at ten minutes each.
My shoulders screamed, my palm was bruised from the handle, my wrist ached.
But I didn’t let up. My pain was inconsequential compared to Julian’s.
And he needed it to be as real asbefore.
Also, it had to be enough that Marco was satisfied.
At one point, when he’d gone wild in the restraints — thrashing, choking, borderline convulsing — I’d forced him to look at me. Made him open his eyes and hold my gaze.
“You aren’t alone, slaveboy. I’m here with you. I see you.”
I’d caressed his thigh, talked him through some deep breaths.
And then I’d had to get started again, but I hadn’t let him close his eyes for more than a few seconds during the nexttwenty minutes, and I think it helped, pulling him out of the past and into the present. Anchoring him here, reminding him he ismine.
His dick was soft in the cock cage now, but I left it on. It was going to be caged a while.
Mine wasn’t caged, but it wasn’t hard, either. Not even close. Not from the start, and certainly not now. My body ached from well over an hour of crouching and reaching and pressing and rolling, but not in any of the ways that make it easier. This wasn’t a scene, it was medicine — the kind that tastes like poison going down.
I was going to add ten minutes onto Marco’s mandated two hours, enough to be certain I covered all the moments I’d paused to speak to Julian, to reassure him and keep him tethered tothisreality rather than the old one. Most breaks had been well under a minute, but one had gone close to two, and I needed there to be no doubt I’d followed Marco’s decrees to the letter.
Before this latest round, I’d stopped just long enough to cup his thigh, order him to look at me, and then told him, “I know it hurts terribly, and I love you so much for offering your balls up to me, gifting me not only your pain, but also your devotion. For offering yourself to me. For trusting me to takeeverythingwithout breaking you.”
I didn’t wait for a reply. Didn’t need one. Just went back to it — to the work of destruction, to the sounds of his screams and shrieks clawing at my skin.At my soul.
I kept going.
But now, somewhere in that murky place between grit and collapse, Marco’s voice filled my head.
Finish this ten-minute stint and then move to the next stage. This is enough. The entire scene will last two hours, but the rolling portion is finished once you’ve balanced the time.
My breath hitched, and I pressed harder again, hands cramping, shoulders on fire. I could survive three more minutes. He could, too. And he’d know, even through the agony, that I was giving it everything — just like he was.
The pressure increased, the roller crushing already bruised tissues all over again, and Julian roared. A sound from the bottom of his soul, not just his lungs.
His balls were pulp. Ruined. The damage done.
Marco was right. It was time to end it.
When time was up, I desperately wanted to take a five-minute break to hydrate and get some salt, but I wasn’t going to leave him alone. Not for anything.
I stood on the table, clipped another strap to a ceiling hook, and went back to my knees. I’d only wound the two lowest straps on Julian’s torso around his body and the wedge earlier, skipping the table. Now, I hooked the ceiling strap to them and used the pulley system to tilt him up, canting his pelvis so his asshole was right where I wanted it.
Vampires don’t shit. If they drink too much liquid, they sometimes piss, but mostly their bodies use everything they take in. Which meant there was no need for gloves.
I lubed my hands and arms, and pressed the fingers of my right hand into his ass. He was still raw and inflamed from the giant dildo earlier, his body not able to heal much of anything, with so much ongoing damage happening.
But I didn’t take it easy on him. I doubted the doctor who’d raped him afterback thenhad taken his time. The sadistic bastard was probably impatient to bury himself in a tight little asshole after destroying yet another boy’s balls, and I was supposed to be recreating that. Mirroring it.
