Missing Ink

by E J Frost

  “Oh, fuck, sir. Please, I’m not sure—”

  “I am. Take it for me, goddess. Open yourself wide and take everything I have to give you.”

  I blow out and try to get my breathing under control. One thing at a time, that’s what my kickboxing Kru always says. Control one thing then the next. That’s how you get on top of pain. Breathing, then body. When I’m breathing steadily, I nod. “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s my very good girl,” Mac says warmly, kissing my shoulder as he inches the dildo inside me. It’s slick, and thankfully not with ginger oil, but it’s still a stretch right from the off and I puff and blow through the strain as he slowly, steadily works it into me. Arching my back helps and Mac rubs my lower back with one hand as he holds the dildo steady with the other. His hand is between my upper thighs so it can’t be much more. Please, don’t let it be much more because I don’t think I’ve ever been this full. Even when I’ve been fisted, there’s always the wrist to provide a little relief, but not with this thing. The shaft is just as wide as the head and I cannot be this full.

  Mac’s fingers wrap around my stretched, stinging pussy lips. He pats me and then there’s a tugging on my waist and hip as he attaches the dildo to the belt. I have a moment of panic as my pussy clamps down on the invader and it feels like its rearranging my guts and I can’t push it out, but I breathe-breathe-breathe and the panic eases along with the ache.

  Mac settles onto the bed behind me and rubs his slick cock up and down my crack. “Sit rep, girl. How’re you doing?”

  I almost laugh at the term, which I’m sure he intended, and the last wisps of panic flit away. “Green, sir.”

  “As grass?”

  “More like olives, sir, but still green.”

  He chuckles and smears kisses over my neck and shoulders. “That’s my goddess. I love seeing you take it for me. I heard you breathing, and I know you were controlling your fear and pain. I’m so proud of you, submitting to me when it’s hard. When the pain’s not fun and you have to work through it. That’s my very good girl.”

  I’m sure I glow, probably like one of Emily’s freaking unicorns from all the color on my skin. His praise lights me up so brightly.

  “I know coming on that monster is going to be a challenge, girl, but I also know you can do it for me. I want one more, damn hard, before I take that ass. Every minute you don’t come is another minute your ass closes up and I’m not giving you any more prep before I fuck it, so don’t hold back, girl.”

  I’m too drained and stretched and sore to have any control over what’s happening in my pussy, but I think I’m also too drained and stretched and sore to come again. “Sir—”

  He bites down lightly on my shoulder and says around a nip of my skin in his teeth. “Try for me, goddess, that’s all.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  I wait for the buzz of the Hitachi, but instead his fingers play lightly over my outer lips, then slip inside and circle my clit. Everything in me relaxes. I couldn’t take the intense vibrations of Satan’s wand right now, but his gentle, swirling fingers are perfect.

  I can only squeeze a little around the huge dildo, but when I do, fire roars up through my belly. My legs start to shake and Mac growls in my ear. “That’s right, goddess. Just like that. Let it happen.”

  I let his circling fingers and the overwhelming pressure inside me ease me up and up until I vibrate apart under his fingers. As I’m coming, he slides his arm under my head and growls, “Taste me, girl.”

  I turn my head and bite down on his forearm, sucking hard, filling my mouth with the taste of his skin as the orgasm obliterates me. Every muscle locks and then goes limp. It’s beyond pleasure. It’s too intense for pain. God’s grabbed me in his fist and shaken me and I’m utterly boneless as I collapse in Mac’s arms.

  He pats my clit like he’s praising a good pet. Before I have the chance to do more than shudder from that light stimulation, he reaches around and presses his cock into my ass.

  “Srrrr.”

  “Take it, girl. You knew it was coming.”

  Yes, I knew it was coming, but I didn’t think it was coming right now. And he’s relentless. He pushes in in one long thrust. He wasn’t kidding about not giving me any more prep and I’ve closed up while he’s had me impaled on the dragon dildo. I grit my teeth and suck hissing breaths through them as I try to take his thickness. He works in against the huge thing still filling me. The stretch forces whine after whine out of me. “Sir, Mac, fuck!”

  “That’s it. What am I doing, bold girl?”

  “Claiming my holes,” I groan, shuddering as he bottoms out and then pushes even further, forcing himself deeper. “Fuck! Fuck, Mac! Sir, that hurts!”

  “I know it does. Take it, girl. Show me you’re giving me your holes,” he growls.

  I drop my head to his arm still cradling me and arch my back as much as I can, taking the pain for him, working through it until my body opens and the terrible stretch just becomes overwhelming fullness. His hand cups around my throat and he holds me still through his partial withdrawal followed by a deep thrust that makes me wail.

  “Do you get to come, my dirty, dirty girl?” he growls in my ear.

  Yes? No? I don’t know. I’m not even sure I can, I’m so full. My body gives it the old college try, though, contracting suddenly, sending pulses of white-hot bliss up into my belly from where I’m so, so, so full.

  “That’s it, girl. You can have one. No more.” He pulls back and thrusts shallowly, abrading all those nerves, tugging and stretching the tender skin. My own squeals ring in my ears as he pumps and my overstretched, overtaxed body misfires from pleasure to pain and back again.

  He lets me relax for a minute as my orgasm fades but doesn’t take anything out of me and I begin to shudder uncontrollably.

  “Roll onto your belly, girl,” he says roughly. “It’ll help.”

  He’s right. He helps me roll until I’m face-down, with my hands over my head still cuffed to the bedframe, my knees wide. The position shifts the dildo in me and the firmness of the mattress against my stomach helps the terrible pressure feel good again. Mac positions himself behind me, his thighs brushing mine and taps his cockhead against my sore, stinging asshole several times, wringing whimpers out of me.

  “No more orgasms, girl. You take it and you hold yourself back. Hear me?”

  I nod dizzily. “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m going until I come and I’m not taking it easy on you. Want some lube? This is the last chance.”

  “As long as it’s not ginger oil, yes, sir.”

  “Okay, this once.” He taps me several more times, sending those bright, shuddery shocks through me, before he drizzles something cool down my ass and pushes back in.

  “Oh, sir!” Even with the lube, I’m so sore now his steady entry squeezes tears out of my eyes. He gives no quarter, pumping steadily, holding me down with a hand between my shoulders. He’s panting in my ear as he chases his own release, sounds that make my belly flutter and my brain spiral and help me endure the assault on my stinging ass. He nips at my shoulders and nape, marking me with tiny bites, the tiny pains ramping me up again. I can’t possibly want more, do I? His thrusts grow frenzied and damn, he is strong. He pins me to the bed while he hammers my ass, grunting with each hard thrust. He plants himself deep; the warm rush in my ass making my whole body shake. He rears up off me with a strangled scream—he’s really coming hard—and I smother a laugh in the pillow. In this moment, it’s funny, but on another level, I love that he’s so into our sex. His pleasure distracts me from what’s happening to my poor guts.

  He slumps onto me, holding himself up on one elbow. He smears kisses on my shoulder as he slides out of me. Thank fuck. Then he slaps my ass.

  “Ow!” How my body can even register the sting when I’m hurting everywhere, I don’t know, but it does. “What was that for, sir?”

  “For keeping this ass from me. You’ve got no idea how I’
ve been suffering for the last couple of days.”

  I laugh into the pillow again. Mac runs his hand up my nape and turns my head to the side.

  “I want to hear that laugh, bold girl.” He leans over me and plants a big kiss on the corner of my mouth.

  “Sir, if I ask very, very nicely, will you please take this pussy-wrecking thing out of me?”

  “I could be persuaded.” Mac chuckles. “Or I could decide you need to sleep with it in.”

  “I’d honestly murder you, sir.”

  That earns me another slap, but I’m so giddy from the endorphins and the relief of some of the gut-destroying pressure that I just laugh.

  “All right, girl. You’ve done very well, so let’s take this beast out before you cramp.”

  “That was a half-hour ago, sir. My pussy is now RIP.”

  “I’ll give you an hour to recover, then we’ll see if I can resurrect it.”

  No possible way. “Sure, sir.”

  He snaps the dildo belt against my hip. “You can try to sleep in this for an hour if you keep up the sass, girl.”

  “I promise to be the most angelic subbie you’ve ever met if you please-please-please take it out.”

  “Angelic, huh?”

  “You’ll be able to see my halo from Queens, sir.”

  Mac snorts but unbuckles the belt and eases the dildo out of me. I swear I hear my pussy sigh with relief. I feel the touch of cool air inside me. That’s the weirdest thing. It’s like an OB/Gyn exam. I try to squeeze my internal muscles, but they’ve gone on strike.

  “Please can I lie on my side, sir?”

  “Give me a second here, girl. I’m just going to clean you up and move everything off the bed. Then we’ll get comfortable and have a cuddle.”

  That sounds good. I draw my legs together as much as I can with him still kneeling behind me and that helps with the weirdness of everything being so open down below. Mac moves around, wiping me up, unclipping and uncuffing me, and finally taking off the blindfold. The room’s almost dark, with a dusting of light from the bathroom illuminating the edges of my furniture and the curves of Mac’s shoulders as he leans over me.

  “Eyes okay, girl? You’ve been blindfolded for quite a while.”

  “Mmm-hmm. I’m good, sir. Thanks for having the lights off.”

  He kisses my cheek. “You’re welcome. Do you sleep with the bathroom light on?” At my nod, he gives me another kiss. “Roll over onto your side. I’m going to grab a T-shirt, so I don’t stick to you and then it’s time for some shut-eye.”

  I am so fucking ready for that.

  I’m already drifting a little when Mac climbs over me again and pulls the covers up over us. “Here, girl. Make your safe call before you nod off.”

  He remembered that? I’m so glazed I didn’t remember, and I’ve never forgotten a safe call.

  He offers me my phone. I prop myself up on my elbow but instead of calling, I send Austin a quick text, then pop my phone onto the nightstand. I’m too wasted to talk to anyone and Austin’s going to want the tea. Before I’ve even slumped back into the pillows, Mac’s gathering me up in his arms and tucking me into his chest. I shift until I’m comfortable and settle my head on his shoulder, breathing in the warm scents of his cologne and sweat. He slips his hand up my neck and strokes through my hair. I help him pull out the clips that are keeping my bun together and let him smooth the mass of dreads over the pillow. He does it without any painful yanking on my scalp, which is pretty surprising. Or maybe my nerve-endings have gone on strike.

  “You’re good at that, sir. With my dreads. Like you know what to do,” I mutter. “I can’t see you dating someone with dreads before.”

  “No, girl, I haven’t. I’m just treating them like rope. Any sailor knows better than to thread his fingers through rope. Unless you want to be a nine-fingered sailor.”

  I chuckle sleepily.

  He murmurs, “Settle, girl. I’ll wake you in an hour.”

  “You can try, sir.”

  “Sounds like a challenge.”

  “Mrrsrr,” I grunt, right on the edge of sleep, cuddling as close as I can to his comforting warmth and Mac-scent.

  He chuckles, warm and low. “That’s right, snuggleslut. Take it. Take all the snuggles.”

  Even as I slide down into a sex-coma, that makes me laugh.

  An hour and ten minutes later, he proves not only that he can wake me out of a sex-coma, but he can make me want to fuck again.

  *****

  The good sex-chemicals have destroyed my ability to think. That’s the only excuse I have for not objecting, vociferously, when Mac wakes me before the freaking sunrise. The serotonin’s fucked my head so badly that I even give him a blow job before I go back to sleep. He wakes me again when he climbs into the shower after going for a morning run. Who goes running after the marathon sex we had last night? I’m not even sure I can make it to the bathroom and back on my noodle legs and he’s out running for hours in the chilly fall dawn? He’s a bigger masochist than I am.

  That’s why I get up while he’s in the shower and make him a huge omelet, breakfast links, and toast. No other reason. Certainly not because I’m slightly giddy and so sore and blissfully used that I wince every time I move even while I’m grinning so hard my cheeks ache.

  Definitely not any of that.

  “When’s your next day off, girl?” Mac asks as we’re sitting at my tiny dining table. He’s drawn my bare feet into his lap and is casually rubbing them while demolishing his food.

  “Fareena owes me because I’ve been covering for her while her babysitter’s been sick, so I could take a couple days off this week if you wanted. I’m not scheduled to be off again until Friday but then I’m off for four days.”

  Four days that I was supposed to spend at Blunts because it’s the festival of the October Horse this weekend. All of the house subs work during the festivals and I look forward to this one all year. Although I don’t have much interest in becoming a pony girl full-time, I love pony play.

  How weird is it that I don’t even feel a twinge of disappointment that I’ll be missing the festival because I’ll be spending time with Mac instead?

  “I owe you a motorcycle ride,” Mac says, digging his thumb into my instep, which nearly makes me swoon off my chair. “Harry’s club in Jersey is doing a charity ride on Wednesday. If you can take the time off, it’ll be fun. Fall colors are starting. It’s an easy ride for your first time. And if you can squeeze me in, I’d like to get a start on the mermaid before we go.”

  “I can do both, sir.”

  Mac grunts in approval around his mouthful of eggs. After he swallows, he shoots me a funny glance and says, “Something I’d like to do on the weekend. If you’re up for it.”

  I’m not sure if it’s a question, and I’m not sure how to answer. “What is it, sir?”

  “My daughter can have visitors on Sunday. I’d like to take you to meet her.”

  I have to scrape my jaw up off the table. I know how much his daughter means to him. And he wants to introduce me to her? “I, um, I’d love to meet her, sir.”

  “I’ve been calling her every day and it sounds like she’s doing better, but she’s still in rough shape. I figure that won’t bother you but if it’ll be too upsetting to see her struggling with her demons, just say so.”

  “No problem, sir. It’s not my first rodeo with addiction.”

  “That’s my bold girl. Small wrinkle is that my ex-wife is also coming up to see Naomi on Sunday. I’d like to say we won’t bump into her but, knowing Amy, she’ll engineer it so we do. I doubt Amy’ll say much to you, but she’ll try to embarrass the hell out of me. Think you can endure if I need a manly cry on your shoulder after she’s ripped me a new one?”

  His humor both makes me laugh and tears something in me, because I know he’s using it to deflect what must be very real pain. “I can, sir.”

  “Amy’s mostly just a very unhappy person, Bren. Keep that in mind when you meet her.�
��

  “Okay, sir, I will.” How did he survive twenty years of being married to a very unhappy person? Or was it their divorce that made her that way? I kind of want to meet her now just so I can get a feel for why things went wrong between them. “Before we go—doesn’t have to be right now—would you tell me why you split up?”

  Mac swallows hard, his Adam’s apple working. “It’s not a very nice story, girl.”

  “Won’t be the first I’ve heard, sir.”

  He nods. “I forget, sometimes, looking at you, how much of the ugly side of life you’ve already experienced. Yes, I’ll tell you about it. Let’s do some of the fun stuff first so you don’t think being with me’s nothing but disappointment and dragon dildos.” He winks at me. “Then we’ll share some more painful personal history.”

  “That’s a deal, sir. And I really want to see the dragon dildo.”

  He cleaned it and tucked it away last night before I even got a glimpse and there was no sign of it this morning.

  “No, the contents of my toy bag are off-limits to you, nosy girl. I like keeping you guessing about the pussy mangler, particularly since it still has a surprise or two for you.”

  “Ohmigod, if that thing is a vibrator, you keep it away from me.”

  Mac laughs. “It is but that’s not the surprise. Behave yourself or you’ll find out much sooner than your sore little kitty can handle.”

  Jeez, if that isn’t an incentive to keep my mouth shut. But that’s just not me. “Rawr.”

  He lifts his eyebrows at me. “Rawr?”

  “That’s my kitty roaring.”

  Mac throws his head back and laughs. “What am I gonna do with you, girl?”

  “Be at my beck and call?” I phrase it as a question, so he feels free to tell me he has better things to do.

  “That’s a given. I have to shoot back to my place at some point to pick up my bike, but that’ll take two hours, tops.”

  “Let me take a look at the schedule, but I think I can fit you in for an hour today to start on the line work for your mermaid. And then we have lunch plans.” I flex my feet in his lap at the thought. “I’d say kickboxing tonight. But I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk by then and you shouldn’t do any impact sport after you’ve had a tattoo.”