Russian Boss’s Secret Baby by Bella King
Ch 15
MIA
What is happening in my body right now? Could I die from feeling this good?
I haven’t cum from a vibrator since I was eighteen, and since then I have been too scared to try it again. I’ve always been afraid of the sheer volume of pleasure that I could obtain from a vibrator, like it could turn me into a sex junkie and I’d get lost down a rabbit hole of lust and perversion as my outside life wasted away.
Right now, I can’t even think about Slate, or about where I am, or what I’m even doing here. My mind can only focus on the obscenely strong orgasm I just experienced.
One time, I had read that women’s orgasms could cause a chain reaction, one after another after another, each easier to come by than the last until you’re worn out in a puddle on your bed.
When I do open my eyes, Slate is simply standing there, leaning against the bondage bed as if he’s watching me do something mundane and domestic, like cooking him a meal.
As I stand here, barely able to contain my own moans, he just smirks at me, and then he turns the vibration up even higher.
I would fall straight to the floor if I wasn’t bound by the awkward yet strategic way that Slate has bound my hands. I need to stay upright to avoid hurting my shoulders.
He wants me to give up, to admit that I can’t handle the pleasure that he’s giving me, but I’ve always been a silent fighter. I don’t give up, no matter what.
I feel as though I’m trying to press the entire earth away from me as I stagger back to my feet, the toy pressing harder into my clit as I force myself to stand.
“Getting bold now, are we? Don’t make yourself regret it now. I know I can get six or seven orgasms out of you before you’re not able to speak a full sentence anymore,” says Slate, mimicking that he’s turning up the remote even higher.
Just the suggestion of the toy getting more intense sends me into a state of panicked euphoria. I’ve only cum once, but I know the next is coming soon.
Slate leaves his post at the bondage bed and approaches me, standing so close to me that we are almost chest-to-chest. He lifts my shirt and exposes my breasts, the warmth of my body dissipating in the unusual cold of the dungeon.
He leans down and begins to lick my left nipple, the slick warmth of his tongue heightening every sensation in my body. I whimper, small staccato moans as another orgasm builds between my legs, this time radiating up through my belly and down my thighs.
“So soon? You must be a virgin, Mia,” he taunts, sucking my nipple harder.
Oh god, I’m so close.
“I’m… I’m not a fucking virgin,” I say in defiance before the second orgasm grips my whole body and sends me into near-convulsions.
As I cum, Slate turns up the vibration even higher, now in a pulsing rhythm. I nearly black out for a few seconds, sent to the darkness of my oxytocin-addled brain where only warmth and pleasure exist.
This time, I do collapse, and Slate grabs me before my full weight hits the floor, tearing both of my rotator cuffs as I fall. As he holds me, I come back to reality, the vibrator still buzzing away like a cult of vindictive hornets.
One hand holds my behind my back as the other moves the toy aside, two of his fingers sliding inside of me as his hand instantly becomes soaked. The toy is still intense enough for me to feel it as he fingers me, applying the perfect amount of pressure to my g-spot.
Another orgasm builds and I’m ready for my soul to be stolen by its terrible power. I feel like I could pass out if I cum one more time in the next ten minutes, much less the next thirty seconds.
I cannot find the words to express this to Slate. I’m locked in by the pleasure. He thrusts his fingers in deeper, and I collapse into his arms once more. He knows exactly how much power he has over me, and he is going to use it, sucking me dry until there’s nothing left.
The third orgasm takes me, and all I can do is scream. Something inside of my breaks, and I let out the anguish that I’ve been hiding deep within my soul. All the years of suffering, of watching bad things happen to me and my family, and it’s all coming out in Slate’s weird little sex room.
My clit is burning as if it’s atoning for its own sins and mine at the same time. If this is the case, I must be crawling with sin, too horrifying and dirty even for angels to look at me. This is my penance.
As I come down from my place of near hysteria, Slate unlatches the strap between my legs, releasing me from the vibrator as my pussy drips and aches. He quickly removes his belt, pulling his cock out of his pants just as he did the night before. Without a second to spare, he thrusts inside of me, my pussy hot and wet just for him, and he knows it.
He takes me in both his hands and lifts me, wrapping my legs around him as he presses me hard into the bedpost. He thrusts himself into me over and over, the pressure of his huge cock stretching me even in my hyper-aroused state. I can feel every stroke of him, every bit of his length as he goes harder and harder.
I know he’s close now, because he is gripping my body tighter and tighter, his fingernails digging into my skin. As the pressure builds, his pounding slows but grows harder and deeper as he cums inside me. I can feel the heat of his semen filling me, overflowing out of me and onto the floor, just as I had suspected would be the reason for hardwood floors in a room like this.
Instead of dropping me and ordering me to clean up our mess, he holds me for a moment, resting his weight on the bed post behind me and nestling his face in my neck. His breathing is labored and deep. I am still disoriented and exhausted from my own orgasms, my head spins as my body goes limp in his arms.
I feel safe here. It’s finished, and my body can rest.
