Page 17 of Magnum, Volume 2

We went back inside at ten, and I put her on her back again, and I drove into her sore, raw cunt until she was sobbing and clinging to me, the plug shifting with every thrust, her body milking me even while she begged.

My Stormy girl comes the hardest when I make her look at me while I pound her and hurt her, and I ordered five more orgasms out of her over the next hour and a half, demanding eye contact every damned time, and each release hit harder than the last. Her body kept trying to close around me even while she begged, scent thick with desperate need and pure surrender.

I held out until she was trembling and incoherent before I allowed the last one, and then buried myself farther than she’d ever taken me before emptying everything I had into her, my forehead pressed to hers, not a doubt in my mind she felt the way I was claiming her — body, mind, and soul.

Only then did I allow her to crash.

And now it was our last night, and I was far too emotional, but I buried the loss I was already feeling and determined to make it memorable.

She stopped working at four o’clock, tears in her eyes when she walked into the bedroom, stripped, and reached up to grab the chin-up bar.

I stepped in behind her and started on the cincher. We were both feeling the loss before it got here, and the sooner I got our minds on other things, the better.

I watched the laces draw tight while I put some muscle into it. The steel bones closed around her waist one pull at a time. Her breathing shortened, and soft tremors ran through her every time I took another half-inch. I measured when I thought I was close, and decided on another quarter inch farther than we’d ever managed, so I pulled and tugged a while longer, my dick throbbing inside my jeans from the little noises she made.

When I measured again, I’d gone a little over, but her waist looked fucking great, so I merely logged it into the spreadsheet on my phone and then crouched to lock the heels onto her feet.

I couldn’t resist sticking two fingers into her slick cunt and pumping them a few times before I stepped back and said, “Permission to let go, slave.”

She dropped carefully, her eyes watery when she met my gaze.

“Who am I?” I asked, working hard to keep my voice level.

“Sir,” she whispered, voice breaking. “You’re my Sir.”

“Of course I am. Over the bed, cunt.”

She moved into place, and I retrieved the largest plug I’d brought.

Her hole looked impossibly small when I pressed the lubed tip against it, and my cock throbbed in my jeans.

The first inch went fast, but then I had to go slow, forcing her open little by little, twisting and pushing, advancing it millimeter by millimeter as her muscles were given no choice but to surrender.

She started begging before it was even halfway in, soft, broken pleas that turned sharper over time.

“That’s it, slave,” I told her, voice low. “Beg me. Tell me how bad I’m hurting you while I watch your ass strain and stretch around this beast of a plug.”

My hardheaded little slave went quiet a few minutes before she started back, begging in earnest, desperate for relief, but I didn’t back off even a tiny bit.

By the time the plug finally seated and her hole clenched hard around the fat neck, she was shaking and crying and so fucking beautiful, I had to slide two fingers into her slick cunt, just because.

And then a third.

I curled them against the front wall, pressed, and rubbed until her thighs were trembling and her breath strained in short, frantic gasps. I took her right to the fucking edge before I pulled my fingers out and stepped back.

She made a broken sound of pure frustration, but I ignored it and ordered, “There are three loads of clean laundry waiting for you. Handle them, slave.”

She stood and walked out on unsteady legs, her waist tiny and her ass forced into the perfect tilt by the four-inch heels.

I watched her leave with my hand pressed over my rock-hard cock, rubbing it slowly over my jeans.

And I made a mental note to buy some taller locking heels. She was handling these with ease, so it was time to challenge her. Plus, fuck, those legs and that ass were going to look even sexier when I forced her feet into the brutality of five-inch heels.

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Storm

The plug felt fucking enormous inside me, and every step made it shift and move, which sent spasms all through the over-stretched, burning muscles trying not to clench around it.