Page 60 of Knife Volume 2

She heard the shower run. Heard him moving around. When he returned, he slipped the blindfold over her eyes, and she heard him getting into bed.

At first, she stayed on her toes, trying to ease the crushing pressure on her cervix. The position burned through her calves and thighs, sweat slicked her skin. She knew she couldn’t stay on her toes forever, but she held out as long as she could.

The massive dildo stretched her so wide she felt split open, every tiny shift sending fresh sparks of pain and unwanted pleasure through her core.

Minutes became hours.

Her legs trembled violently. Her calves burned. Her feet cramped. Finally, she had no choice, and she lowered herself flat-footed.

The dildo drove even deeper.

A raw, rasping sound tore from her throat as the thick head ground hard against her cervix. The stretch was merciless. Every breath made it worse. The heavy fullness in her pussy combined with the plug still in her ass left her feeling impossibly stuffed. Her inner walls spasmed around the giant shaft, clenching and releasing in helpless spasms.

She tried to stay still, but it wasn’t possible.

Every tiny involuntary shift, every tremble of her exhausted legs drove the metal dildo against that deep, sensitive spot. Agony blended and twisted with a dark, aching pleasure, and the day of denied orgasms came back with a vengeance, making her need release even while standing with spread legs in never-ending agony during the long, long night.

Tears slipped from beneath the blindfold. Her thighs shook uncontrollably. Her shoulders screamed. Her pussy throbbed and spasmed around the unrelenting girth, pulsing with need she had no way to satisfy.

She hung in the darkness, skewered on the massive dildo, trembling, for an eternity.

There was no escape. There was only the deep, brutal stretch, the burning in her legs, the slow, endless ache of being held right on the edge of too much… and the quiet, devastating knowledge that she would endure all of it because he wanted her to.

Eventually, she heard his breathing change, then the rustle of sheets as he rose. He went to the bathroom, and she didn’t know if it was the middle of the night or early morning. Would he go back to bed, or would he release her? She needed to pee, and hearing him go made her bladder think it could go, but she held it.

His footsteps came to her instead of to the bed, and her right breast exploded in pain. Then her left breast. Back and forth, and she knew exactly which flogger he was using despite not being able to see. He only hit her maybe four or five dozen times before he disconnected her ankles and wrists, and lifted her from the dildo.

For one blissful second she was free — then he turned her around and lowered her right back onto it, facing the wall this time. She screamed as the thick metal head forced its way back into her cervix, the stretch and pressure even crueler after even those few seconds of relief. Her raw, overused hole clenched desperately around the unforgiving steel, sending fresh waves of deep, aching pain radiating through her core.

He quickly refastened her wrists and ankles, locking her back in place.

Then he pulled the plug out, crammed his cock into her sore, abused asshole, and fucked her like a pole-mounted sex toy.

He was rough and relentless, hips slamming against her, using her hard and deep. She could only hang there and take it, sobbing, whimpering, her body jolting with every thrust. When he finally came, he buried himself to the hilt and growled as he filled her ass.

He pulled out, then immediately shoved the massive plug back into her raw asshole. She screamed as the thickest part forced her open again, stretching her abused ring wide. The burn was vicious after being fucked so hard, and she sobbed helplessly as it sank all the way in, locking deep inside her.

He slapped her right ass cheek… and walked away.

She heard a click she assumed was the baby wipe container opening, and then the scent that told her she was right. Two footsteps, then the sound of the mattress accepting his weight. Seconds later, his breathing told her he’d gone back to sleep, leaving her hanging there — used, stuffed, aching, and still so desperately needy.

When he woke again, he came straight to her. This time she heard the rustle of the flogger and braced herself. He laid into her back without a warmup, the falls cracking across her skin in heavy, stinging blows. After the endless night it was a familiar, grounding pain she could lean into, and she welcomed it.

Unfortunately, he only gave her a few dozen strikes before stopping, and she couldn’t help the needy, disappointed whine that slipped out.

He only chuckled and released her ankles, then her wrists, and lifted her off the dildo. Her legs buckled the instant her feet touched the floor, but he didn’t let her fall. He didn’t pick her up, either. Merely took her by the hand, steadying her, and walked her, still blindfolded, toward what she desperately hoped was the bathroom.

It was, and she peed the second her ass hit the toilet, relief flowing through her even though the pressure made the bruising inside her hurt all over again.

She heard water running, like he was filling something from the tub’s faucet. Then his footsteps walked away.

“Count to ten,” he told her, “and you can remove the blindfold. When you finish on the toilet, brush your hair and teeth, then come to the bedroom.”

Chapter 25

Tuesday counted out loud, her voice hoarse. He hadn’t said to, but she didn’t want to take a chance on disobeying.

When she reached ten, she pulled the blindfold off and blinked in the dim light. He’d pulled the door most of the way closed, which meant she wasn’t supposed to know what he was doing until she came out. It didn’t take her long to brush her teeth and put her hair back into the ponytail despite the fact her arms were beyond exhausted and still felt as if they weighed twenty pounds each.