by Melinda Minx
I flex my inner walls against his cock as he continues drilling me. I feel my own juices running out and dripping down onto the bed, and then a loud grunt from Dr. Leeds drowns out all the other sounds.
He tugs at my wrist, pulling it back. I hear the chains of the handcuffs jangle as he pulls, and the cold metal around my wrist digs into my skin.
“Arch your back up, Ms. Faria. I want your beautiful fucking ass up in the air for me,” he hisses.
Normally, I would dig my elbows into the bed to accommodate his order, but judging by the way the fingers of his free hand are digging into my ass and hips, he seems to want to grip me as he fucks me. That means my hand has to go back, as well.
I dig my free elbow into the bed, and I let him yank my cuffed wrist back. He digs into my hips, and my arm stretches all the way back, almost painfully, while my cuffed hand just hangs limp at my side, supported only by the cold metal.
I press my knees into the bed and pop my ass up for him, but I start to lose balance with just one elbow supporting me. The awkward tug from my cuffed hand doesn’t help at all.
He twitches his cock inside me and growls, “Make it work, Ms. Faria.”
I press my head down to the side, flexing my neck. I use my neck and back muscles to press down where my elbow would normally go, and it stabilizes me enough—enough for him to start fucking me with a renewed fury.
He’s not slow this time. He slams and pounds and ravages me at breakneck speed. The punctuated slap, slap, slap sound from before now sounds more like a jackhammer or machinegun. And the feeling—God, the feeling—my pussy burns white-hot for his cock. My inner walls squeeze and milk him as I gush wetter and wetter for him.
Each time he slams me, the cuff chains clatter and my hand shakes as the metal cuts deeper into me. I’m aware that the handcuff is hurting me, but it’s a vague, numb awareness, as if I was on painkillers. Dr. Leeds’ cock stuffing me airtight is better than any IV drip of morphine.
I find myself screaming as I moan. When he drills all the way into me, and when my pussy clenches him involuntarily, my throat closes up, too, and my moans are cut off abruptly. Dr. Leeds pulls back out to hit me again, and my throat opens up suddenly, releasing a deep moan or scream that is cut off just as suddenly as he plows back inside my tight, drenched hole.
With my eyes blindfolded, I feel everything more intensely. I don’t know how it’s different than just closing my eyes, but it is. Especially when I open my eyes behind the blindfold and see nothing at all, it drives home the point that I’m completely at Dr. Leeds’ mercy and fully under his control.
As he fucks me raw, the feeling and intensity increases, and I sense an orgasm rising up. I don’t know if I believe his claim that he can fully control when he cums, but I know that I certainly can’t.
Just as the orgasm looms on the horizon, I feel my skin rubbed raw from the handcuff digging in. The pain is just as vague and removed as before, but I can tell it’s getting worse all the same.
I feel Dr. Leeds let go of my waist with his free hand, and then the muscle of his forearm digs into my back. He presses me down flat as he sinks balls deep into me and stops fucking me.
My hand falls down below his once again, and now that he’s stopped fucking me, and now that the tension is gone from my wrist, I can feel just how much it hurts.
“Is the pain good?” he asks me.
It’s a raw and burning pain all along my wrist. He flicks his hand up and pulls the metal back into the sore spot. It stings, and my muscles twitch involuntarily at the sudden shock of pain.
But as my body jolts from the pain, it moves all along his cock deep inside me, and my inner walls clench against his swollen rod. I moan involuntarily, and drool drips down onto the pillow. “It’s good, Dr. Leeds.”
“Now,” he says, “I sense you were going to cum. Do you know why I stopped?”
My first thought is that he is going to torture me. That he’d somehow stop for today and make me wait even longer. But then I remember the things he said earlier.
“Because,” I say, my voice heavy and worn out. “You said I’d look you in the eye.”
“Yes, Ms. Faria.” I feel his lips pressing against my earlobe, and then his teeth sinking in, biting me. I moan from the contrast of pleasure and pain.
He whispers into my ear. “I feel pain, too. My balls are throbbing. From the first moment I saw you again, I’ve not allowed myself any release. I’ve built this up all for this moment, but the pain is intense.”
“The pain is good,” I whisper.
“Only because I know how good the release will feel,” he says. “The more pain I feel now, the better it will feel when I let it all out inside of you.”
Inside of me. I realize he’s not wearing a condom. I’ve felt his skin against me, there was no latex to speak of. He’s going to blow his load into me, one that he’s built up for over a week. I’m not on birth control, but—
“Ms. Faria,” he says. “It’s time.”
His cock slides out of me, and my juices drip out in a hot flood as he slides completely out of me. I gasp, and he pulls at my shoulder, and he flips me effortlessly around to face him. He moves my arm gently, grasping it below the sore part of my wrist. As he flips me around to face him, he pulls my arm over my head, and once I’m flat on my back, my right hand is going across my chest, pressing into my breasts. He moves me like that without thinking about it, there’s no awkward or unsure movements. It tells me that this is certainly not the first or even tenth time he’s been cuffed to someone like this.
I feel something press against my nose. It presses more into me, and I feel it give way. It’s his nose, I realize, as the hot air from his breath hits me.
”I won’t pull off the blindfold until the last moment,” he says.
I nod, and he tugs at my leg with his free hand, urging me to spread wide. I obey his silent command, and I spread all the way, pulling my feet back toward my head. I want to open as much as I can for him; I need his cock inside me again.
He doesn’t waste time. He squeezes my hand, and I feel his forearm bear down on me, but he absorbs the tension this time, sparing my wrist, which has been rubbed raw. Our wrists are held out to the side. I can’t see him, but I can imagine how he’s holding his right hand out across his strong, wide chest. I can imagine how his bicep must be bulging, and his ab muscles are all popping out as he supports his muscular weight with just the strength of one arm.
He slaps his thick cock against my swollen pussy, and I spread even wider as I feel him slide back inside me. His cock feels familiar to me already, even though it’s our first time together. He fits tight and warm inside me, and it feels like he belongs there. I wonder briefly if he feels the same way, but once he begins to pound into me again, all higher thinking shuts off, and I can do little more than feel.
I wrap my legs around him and dig my heels in really good. I feel his muscles bulging and rippling beneath my feet. He’s fucking me as if he wasn’t tired at all, but I know he’s doing it all with just one arm holding him up. He’s in such good shape that I assumed he must go to the gym every day and lift huge weights, but seeing his prowess and creativity in bed, I almost wonder if his muscles and physique comes solely from fucking in contorted positions like this one.
I feel my breasts bouncing up and down across my body as he slams in and out of me. His balls slap hard against me with each thrust, and I dig my nails into the wrist of his cuffed hand as I arch and gyrate my hips against him. The friction and wetness reaches a peak intensity, and my moans become fully involuntary. I’ve lost all sense of time, and it’s fully possible my roommate came home while Dr. Leeds was inside me. If she did, she’ll hear me clear as day from anywhere in the apartment. Not that I care—nothing could stop me from screaming my lungs out right now.
The orgasm starts to hit me, and I pull my shoulders back and arch my body up.
My pussy gushes like a flooded river, and my legs begin to tremble as I wrap the
m tighter around Dr. Leeds’ body.
Without warning, there is light.
The first thing I see is the blindfold between Dr. Leeds’ teeth, and then he spits it out somewhere beside me. He locks his dark eyes on mine, and I can see each small radiation on his eyes. I can see myself reflected in his eyes, as if I was so far away from him rather than just inches from his face.
I’m still moaning, right into him, but having my sight come back so suddenly makes me feel like a blind woman who is seeing for the very first time.
I look down Dr. Leeds’ body, and I see he’s glistening in sweat. His muscles are popping out, and all the beautiful muscles on his free arm are bulging even more intensely than I’d imagined. I throw my gaze to the side, and I see the way my fingers are digging into his forearm. I see the chain between the cuffs swaying back and forth as he pounds in and out of me.
I look down again between my legs. His abs are perfectly defined, and each time his cock pulls out of me to slam in once again, I can see it’s drenched in my white-hot cum. Whether it’s his pre-cum or my own cum, I’m not sure. It’s probably both.
“Elijah,” I say in a whined and pained moan.
It’s the first time I’ve called him by his first name, but it feels like the right thing to do in this moment.
“Nikki,” he hisses, and he pounds into me as my pussy clenches vice-tight around him.
I throw my head back. My eyes close shut. All the things I drank in with my eyes took only two or three seconds, but the images play vividly back in my mind as Dr. Leeds fucks me into total oblivion.
“God,” he says. “I’m going to fill you so full.”
“Do it,” I shout. “Pump me full! Give me everything!”
Every muscle in my body convulses. My throat closes and stifles my breath and my moans, and it’s in that perfectly timed moment that Dr. Leeds releases his seed.
It hits my cervix with unbelievable intensity. I realize he must have been just fractions of in inch from bottoming out with his thrusts, as if my insides really were perfectly made for his cock.
The pressure of his release is so intense as it hits me, that the orgasm transforms. I remember vaguely hearing of orgasms from the cervix being possible, but—
God! He blows two or three more loads right into me, and each one sends a flash of ecstasy up through my body, up my spine, and it all dissipates as warm and fuzzy perfection deep within my brain.
Each time I think the pressure will subside, he blasts another load just as thick and fast as the one previous.
“Ughhh!” his voice is transformed. I can feel the release through the tone of his voice. I can sense just how much pain he was in from the utter exhilaration in his moans as he releases his burden deep inside me.
After six, seven, eight thick shots of cum—I lose count—the pressure subsides somewhat. The following blasts of cum are still thick and warm, but they don’t blast so hard against my deepest place, and I finally start to release my own tension.
My legs start to go slack, and my cuffed hand just hangs limply against the cuff. The raw redness from before turns into a sharp pain, but the fading orgasm and building afterglow numbs it all. The pain just becomes a point of contrast, something that feels like it belongs. Feeling nothing but warm ecstasy wouldn’t be right, I need that small bit of pain to heighten everything else.
He slides deeper in and out, and there’s suddenly a loud and wet popping sound as his thick cum breaks the airtight seal my pussy has created. His seed leaks out of me like a broken dam, and I feel it pooling beneath my ass, soaking into my sheets just as it soaked my insides.
“Ahh,” I let out a relieved moan.
Dr. Leeds pulls me onto my side and collapses down beside me. Bringing our conjoined wrists up into the air, he takes hold of my hand, our fingers interlocking together.
Our eyes find each other, and nothing needs to be said. We said all we could ever say with our bodies, and we both smile widely at each other, perfectly content as the afterglow wraps around us, joining us together more than the handcuffs ever could.
And as if it was all indeed a dream, I don’t see Dr. Leeds again for nearly two weeks. He’s never in his office, and even though people tell me they saw him at some odd hour, I never see him. His phone goes straight to voicemail, and he doesn’t return any of my texts.
For the first few days, I assume he’s testing me. It’s some kind of “pain is good” exercise, or he’s using distance to make us feel closer together.
After a week passes, I start to get on edge.
Sometime during the second week, I miss my period.
My period always arrives like clockwork, never varying by more than a day or two. I have it in my calendar, and when it’s four days late, I pick up a pregnancy test.
I think of Dr. Leeds talking about his finely honed sword. He let it build up power for weeks, denying himself release. He finally released it into me, as fertile of a target as any. I wasn’t on any form of birth control, and we never so much as considered using protection.
All of that build-up was released into me, filled me up, and gushed out of me.
I stare in terror at the pregnancy test as I wait for the result.
A dull color appears, and then a small little “plus” icon becomes clear as day. It’s the same baby blue color as Dr. Leeds’ tie.
The test has something like a one-hundredth percent margin of error, but I know my body well enough to know. Dr. Leeds’ sword was honed for one purpose, and it swung true. He knocked me up.
16
Elijah
I never knew an afterglow could last for a full week and a half.
Every time I think of that first release into Nicole, the hairs on my arms stand up. I get goosebumps, and my cock twitches as if I was inside her again.
I’ve been avoiding her.
After I left her apartment, I turned off my phone.
This isn’t supposed to happen. I’m not supposed to doubt my resolve. Every relationship is on a timer, but the way my cock fit her, with her wrapped around me like a glove. The way she obeyed all of my orders just right, I had a sudden and primal urge to protect her. To never let her go.
And that’s dangerous. I can’t lose my edge like this. So the only thing to do is avoid her, to gain some distance before I talk to her again.
She’s teaching a class right now. I didn’t go to my office in case she came to look for me.
I’m sure she’s hurting, but she can tell herself that I’m doing this as some kind of exercise in pain. That I’m intentionally avoiding her to make it that much better when I fuck her again. When I spank her, order her around, choke her…
I look down and see a huge bulge. I’m outside the cathedral on a bench, so I lean back and focus on my breathing, hoping the erection will subside.
I look up at the cathedral, knowing she’s inside. As if the whole cathedral was built around her just to contain her radiance. I could go see her right now.
There’s no way I’m going to break it off with her now. It’s dangerous that I feel this close and connected, but it’s not within my power to give her up yet. I’ll have to just keep going, and eventually I’ll make an exit plan.
Surely I’ll tire of her. The first time is usually the best. I’ll be able to toy with her, make my orders more demanding, and see how much pain she can still enjoy and endure. Those will all be fun things to explore, but the shine of it being new should fade with time, and that will make things easier to finally break off entirely.
Or am I just telling myself that? I’ve never felt such a strong connection after a first time. I always feel this thrill and rush, but never do I feel a real and meaningful connection. Could it be that the sex was just so good that I think I feel that connection?
I find myself walking. Toward the cathedral. Toward her. Maybe if I just see her again, I can get it over with.
After about ten minutes, I’m outside the door to the class she’s teaching. I wasn’t plannin
g to go in today—even before I fucked her—because I wanted to give the message that I trusted her to teach on her own. I don’t think she needs me babysitting her. I know she can handle teaching this class.
But I’m not visiting the class to see how she teaches. I just want to see her.
I open the big wooden door and step inside. The students turn around, and some whisper. Nicole looks up at me and pauses mid-sentence.
I wave for her to go on, and I grab an empty seat near the back. She’s wearing tight black pants and a white blouse. She looks a lot more professional and a lot less like she’s trying to get my attention than before. It fails, though—she gets my attention. My eyes run up and down her body, and memories of what we did flood through me. I struggle to control my breathing as I watch her speak. I can tell she’s distracted by me. Her usual confident tone sounds cautious and tenuous. She keeps trying to not look at me, which means she looks at me just from the corner of her eyes, and usually after each time she finishes a thought.
Go on, Ms. Faria, teach. Don’t let me distract you.
Nicole stumbles on for a while longer, and eventually someone raises his hand.
“I’m still lecturing,” she says.
He wiggles his hand, but doesn’t interrupt her.
She sighs. “Yes?”
“Can I ask Dr. Leeds a question?” he asks, and he begins to turn toward me before Nicole can even answer.
“No!” she snaps. “You cannot. He’s not even supposed to be here.”
I turn up my palms at the student—I think his name is Craig—hoping he won’t ask me the question and further enrage Nicole.
The students all start snickering and whispering.
I raise an eyebrow at Nicole, hoping she’ll take the hint to calm down. If she’s visibly angry at me in front of her whole class, they might get suspicious.
She glares at me just long enough that I know she’s well and truly angry with me, but she at least starts to gain control of herself, which essentially means ignoring me. She gets back into her groove teaching, becomes more animated, and her lecture becomes interesting and engaging again. She doesn’t so much as look at me again throughout the whole lecture.
