Page 86 of Bottoms Up
“You’re not even halfway,” I said, voice cold again. “If you think this is hard, wait another twenty minutes.”
She cried out. A long, keening moan.
I kissed her temple. Let my hand slide between her legs. Didn’t stroke. Just rested it there, my cool hand on top of all that heat. Let her feel me. Let her feel owned.
Then I stood. Returned to Atlas. How did I get so lucky? Two people to torture at once?
I wiped the sweat from Atlas’s forehead, and decided to leave the speed of the water where it was. His cries had quieted into near-silent sobs, chest stuttering with every breath, the weight on his balls dragging harder with each movement.
He was good. I turned back to Silver.
Chapter 28
Julian
She was trembling, panting, eyes wide with pain and desperation. Her skin was flushed, lips parted in a soundless scream, like she’d forgotten how to breathe.
I unstrapped her slowly. Gently. Lifted her in my arms, and her whole body clenched around the nozzle.
She buried her face in my chest.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered.
I carried her to the narrow bench — the one designed for oral service. Her back landed gently on the padding, but she gasped as if knives shredded her insides. I bent her knees and connected her ankles so the position wouldn’t put undue stress on her spine. Strapped the rest of her down — hips, wrists so her arms were straight down her sides, and then a side strap under her breasts to secure body and arms.
She couldn’t move much of anything.
Her eyes met mine — wide, glazed,frantic. The cramps were hitting her in waves. Deep. Rolling. Endless.
I threw one leg over her, straddling her chest, and used the remote to lift the platform she was on, then tilt her upper body just enough I could easily fuck her mouth.
My cock was granite — the kind of aching hardness only a sadist gets, carved out of cries and tension and trembling obedience.
I fed it into her mouth.
She gagged when I hit the soft palate, but I didn’t stop. Her body bucked as much as the restraints allowed, every scream swallowed into the heat of her throat.
The vibrations wereexquisite.
Her throat spasmed around me in pulses of pain and sound — the cramping turning her into a living vibrator, massaging my cock from the inside with desperate, helpless whimpers.
Her agony made her tighter. Hotter. Nothing else on Earth feels like this, the way her body turns pain into devotion.
I gripped her hair. Fucked slow. Deep.
I watched the clock. Another eighteen minutes for her to hold this enema. I took my time, enjoying her mouth.
With three minutes to go, I went faster. Harder.
And executed a personal challenge to perfection, coming hard with a grunt when it flipped over to zero, hips driving as deep as her throat would take me, holding her there until I felt her swallowing. One, two, three pulses.
“Good girl,” I said, wiping her tears with my thumbs.
Then I released her.
She bolted for the toilet.
I followed slower, and took my time releasing the balloons.
