The electrodes I put on her are bipolar, so the risk of getting my cock zapped is low, but it’s still there. I don’t care. I’ve brought male Dolls to orgasm before just by electrostimulating their cocks, so it can’t be that unpleasant. Grace’s naughty little mouth comes first, though. After all, it was her mouth that broke the rules.
Since she’s been a good Doll, I lower the voltage a little before adjusting the chair so that her mouth is at the perfect height. Strapped to the chair with her jaws held open by the ring gag, Doll isn’t in any position to fight back, but I still grab her hair as I thrust into her waiting mouth, excitement making my movements rougher than usual. Her throat vibrates with another scream as I push my cock deeper until she gags. She can’t seem to decide between coughing and crying as I pull back, which is just adorable. I make the decision for her by thrusting into her throat once again and cutting off her airflow. Pain makes it harder for her to fall back on her deepthroat training, and she squirms in my grasp, her face growing red as she struggles for air. Pulling back, I allow her a few deep breaths before sinking right back in.
Tears soak her blindfold, and her headphones are a little askew, so I right them before removing the scrap of fabric covering her eyes. “Fuuuck,” I groan as her wide, red-rimmed eyes meet my gaze. Looking at me seems to settle her a little, and she manages to stay calm until she starts running out of oxygenagain. Tears roll down her face, and I regret not having put makeup on her. It would streak gloriously. Well, there’s always next time, and the next, and the next. The rest of our lives. Fuck, that thought shouldn’t be such a massive turn-on, but it is, and I’m too close to coming for comfort.
Disappointment flashes through Doll’s eyes as I retreat, as if she misses my cock in her mouth. If I thought watching her instead of fucking her face would help me stave off the impending climax, I was wrong, though. She’s glorious as she twitches and jerks, straining against the straps holding her in place as the electricity makes her muscles convulse. “Fuck, you’re glorious.”
Grace can’t hear me, but she can see me speak, her eyes focusing on my mouth as she tries to guess what I said.
“Curious, Doll?” I grin. “You’re mine. Forever. I’m going to dispose of anyone who would stand between us, and then I’m going to steal you away and make you laugh and scream every single fucking day. If you think that once this is over, you will go back to your silly ordinary life, you’re very wrong. You’re never getting rid of me, because you’re mine. My Doll. My Grace. Fuck!” Finally sinking into her waiting cunt, I cry out loud as her inner walls squeeze me. The muscles in her asshole clench down on the dildo as it shocks her, and her pussy muscles follow, squeezing my poor cock like she’s trying to crush it to pulp.
“Fuck, Doll, you feel so fucking good!” Deciding that hearing my voice is more important than listening to stupid rules, I yank the headphones off her ears. “So fucking good.” She moans, the needy sound cut off by a whimper as the electricity runs through her again. “So fucking good, Doll. Tell me, do you want to come?”
She tries to make an affirmative sound, but it comes out as a garbled howl. This time, even I feel the shock as a not so pleasanttingle running through the base of my cock. Laughing, I pull out before thrusting back into her. “I didn’t hear you, Doll.”
“Oef!” she screams, articulating as well as she can with the gag holding her mouth wide open. “Eafe!”
“Hmm, was that a please? Are you a good little Doll, begging me for an orgasm?”
The strap over her forehead digs into her skin as she tries to nod.
I laugh. “Well, we’ll see. Scream for me, Grace.”
Chapter 25
Grace
Iscream and scream until I’m lightheaded from lack of air. Pain lances through my most sensitive parts as if thousands of needles stab into me, the sensation so overwhelming I barely register the other shocks. My body jerks, muscles clenching involuntarily as electricity courses through me. It’s agonizing, yet a prickle of arousal accompanies the pain. Not enough to block it out but enough to keep it from being pure torture, especially when Master finally enters me. I’ve wanted this for so long, but now I can’t even enjoy it because the pain is too much. My vision is blurred with tears as I seek Master’s gaze, trying to convey my plea through my eyes alone.
Master takes pity on me and lowers the shock intensity. It still hurts, and I cry and choke on saliva flooding my mouth, but atleast now I can feel more than pain, like the pleasure building with every stroke inside my spasming body.
“Such a good Doll,” he praises, then groans as my muscles convulse around his cock, gripping him so tightly he has to stop thrusting. “Fuck, Grace! Yes!”
The sound of my name on his lips makes every second of the stabbing agony worth it. Master’s earlier tension seems gone. He’s back to his usual self, focused entirely on me. I love the intensity he watches me with, how he studies my expression and my body’s responses. He knows me better than I know myself, knows exactly how much I can take and when it’s too much. My body truly belongs to him, and so do my heart and soul and all other parts of me.
“Fuck. You definitely deserve to come,” Master says in between irregular thrusts. I cry out with relief when he removes the clamp from my clit, then moan when he strokes it. The pain fades as I focus on his touch, my mind slipping into that place where the real world no longer matters.
Master keeps fucking me, his forceful thrusts jerking me against the restraints, his deft fingers pushing me up and up until I feel like I’m going to shatter from the sheer intensity of the sensations. Then he thrusts deep and stills, his body tensing as he fills me with his cum. That image finally pushes me over the edge. Static fills my mind as I come, eyes rolling back and limbs locking as pleasure surges through me.
“Fuck, Grace,” Mikhail moans as he slumps over me. His hips twitch in time with the shocks still running through me like he feels them as well, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Jesus fucking Christ, Doll,” he sighs. “I’m never leaving your cunt again.”
I want to tell him I’d love nothing more, even if it’s not exactly practical, but the metal ring holding my mouth open turns my answer into a whimper.
“Damn, I love the sounds you make. You take pain so well, Doll. No talking,” he warns as he removes the gag. “I just want to hear you cry.”
Ramping up the shock intensity again, he crouches between my legs. I can’t see him, but I can feel his smoldering gaze on my pussy, which should be absolutely mortifying, yet it only makes me feel beautiful. “You look amazing with my cum seeping out of your cunt, Doll. Fucking riveting.” Running his fingers through the mess between my legs, he rubs my clit again. I cry out, my flesh too sensitive from the shocks and from the previous orgasm, but Master doesn’t care. “You’ll give me more, Doll,” he says fervently. “So much more. You’re going to give me every single piece of yourself.”
“I’m…yours…Master…” I manage to say between cries and whimpers, then cry out when there’s a sharp tug on the clamps on my nipples.
Master narrows his eyes. “What did I say about talking?” he challenges, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. Dangerous and oh so erotic.
“I’m sorry,” I can’t help but tease, knowing I did the right thing when he tugs on the wires attached to my nipples again, sending delicious stabs of pain through my breasts.
“Such a brat,” Master murmurs, the corners of his mouth twitching in a suppressed smile, a smile I put there. “And here I thought I had a nice, obedient Doll on my hands. I guess I’ll have to train you more.”
Not actually wanting to end up in more pain, I hold back a reply. Some of it is pleasurable, but when it’s too much, everything else fades, and all I can do is cry, scream, and beg for what feels like forever. True to his word, Master relishes my cries, standing by my side as I sob and fight my way through the pain. He’s always done that but this time, it’s different.
When we finally learned each other’s names, something shifted between us. Or maybe it was always there and we’re just letting ourselves acknowledge it. He’s no longer just my trainer or a temporary Master. He’s my Master, my Mikhail, and I have a feeling he will move heaven and earth to ensure we aren’t separated. I consider asking if he’s found a way to keep me despite his uncle’s objections, but decide against it. If we truly only have the last few days together, I want to live them out holding on to my hope, not mourning our limited time.
