He removes his fingers from me, then balances the lamp on the corner of the cage.
I can’t think.
None of this feels real.
Is he really going to burn me?
He will. And that means we’ll be closer. We’ll be the same.
No. No. No!
I howl. He untwists the lightbulb, his fingers undisturbed by the heat.
The lamp crashes to the floor.
“Take it, you stupid cunt,” he says.
The lightbulb presses to my clit, and my skin sizzles at the contact. The pain is a blinding light. The air is ripped from my lungs until everything fades. My gut twists, my body collapsing on itself. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t do anything.
I am pure pain.
Fingers penetrate my pussy and ass as burning glass rocks across my aching clit. I’m forced back into my body. I gasp.
Dr. Ambrose growls as he fingers me. “Cum for me, you little bitch.”
And I do. I cum so hard, I choke on air. Tears rush down my face, my clit throbs, and everything inside of me hurts and burns and feels good, and I don’t know who I am or what I want anymore.
Eventually, I ease down to earth.
My staggered breathing returns to a steady rhythm. I tremble, my bottom lip quivering and tears painting my cheeks.
“Why are you crying, sweet one?” Dr. Ambrose murmurs. He drags his damp fingertips across my lips. “Is it because you want Daddy to cum for you too?”
A cry tears through me. Dr. Ambrose laughs and raises the lightbulb in the air.
A thin film of my musky need streaks the glass.
He clutches it in his hand, tightening his fist until the bulb shatters. Tiny glass shards and drops of blood explode across the room.
He picks up a piece of glass from the floor, then brings it to my clit. He pokes me with the jagged edge.
“Please,” I cry. It’s the only word I can think of. I don’t know if I’m begging him to do it or begging him not to do it; I just need him right now.
“You are so much easier to train than I first expected,” he says. “It’s a pity. Your mother was more stubborn. It’s a shame your training time will pass quickly.”
He strokes his cock, his length wet with my ass mucus. His fingers push the glass forward, the sharp edge digging into my clit.
Pain surges through me. My pussy is already on edge.
“You’re going to cum again, aren’t you?” He laughs. “Such an obedient whore, ready to cum for Daddy at a moment’s notice.”
I’m too empty-headed. Why is it so easy for him to make me cum? What does it mean?
I sob. “Please. Please. I need?—”
He palms his cock with one hand and cups my pussy with the other, the shard between us. As I hump his palm, there’s enough friction—the glass and his rough hand—that I’m there, jumping off into nothingness. He throws the glass, mounts the cage again, spits into his palm, and angles his cock into my back hole. I wail. He should reject me. He should push me away. He shouldn’t want anything to do with a disgusting freak like me.
But he wants me.
