Page 111 of Dangle

I couldn’t breathe from wheezing and snorting. Tears rolled down my face. Warmth flooded my chest. I couldn’t recall anyone doing something like this for me who wasn’t paid to do it. And the notes didn’t count. Those just made it even sweeter.

Slone took feeding people seriously. Real fucking serious. He cooked for me and Ewen and their buddy Taz, and Ewen’s little brother Ollie and Coach Grigor. He even cooked for the Grigors’ mom and dad, who I recently learned the brothers and Slone took turns caring for because of their health issues. All that cooking meant the fridge stayed full of leftovers because the man seriously had no clue how to cook small portions. He’d told me from the start I was welcome to anything, but this…

It made me want to sob.

And throw him to the floor and ride him and suck him and tell him I love him at least twice, but probably more like fifty times, especially when he edged me until I cried.

Fuck, now I was getting hard. Not that it would do much, or that I even could. The cock cage I wore would make it deflate. Daddy wouldn’t let me cum anymore without his permission. Or his presence. Our Free Use rules went both ways, but sometimes Daddy took control when I dropped to my knees for him or climbed onto his lap to warm his cock. I didn’t mind. It was Daddy’s right to do with me what he wanted.

I groaned, putting one of the meals in the microwave, slamming the door, and punching the buttons. My stomach churned with the need clawing at me, wanting my cock to get hard. It was the worst and best kind of torture being caged for extended periods of time. Ilovedit, though. So damn much. I loved that Slone locked it on me. That he wore a key to it around his neck. The rule allowed me to remove it myself for hockey stuff, but Ialwaysasked Slone to unlock it for me, even though I carried a key as well.

The carnival tilt-o-whirl my mind rode on continued spinning out of control. Spinning on my heel, I put away the other containers. With the life-altering, emotionally aggressive mindfuckery out of sight, I contemplated banging my head on the soapstone countertop, but a concussion at this point in the season wasn’t ideal. Taking me out of the game wouldn’t help. It would only remove the biggest distraction to what had just run through my head.

Sometimes, like Daddy, I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. I’d been so worried. Daddy had too, even if he had said nothing. That was okay. He didn’t have to say anything. I knew. He worried where I’d be going, if I’d be leaving him.

As if.

Ugh! I was driving myself nuts.

Like, seriously nuts. Like a full bag of mixed nuts. All the nuts. All the nuts from all the places that had nuts, kind of nuts.

The track switched.Thatsong came on, and my body immediately swayed to the music. The runaway emotional minefield slowed as my new favorite song blared to life and filled the loft. I stumbled across it on social media. It trended on all the short-video apps, and it got stuck in my head. Now, I couldn’t listen to it just once. Whenever it came on, I hit repeat. Ihadto. People, aka the boys, couldnotfind out the number of times I’d listened to this song in a row. It was…embarrassing how hooked I was.

Hitting repeat, despite the embarrassment, I cranked the volume, dancing around the kitchen while singing along. The microwave dinged, and I pulled out my food, setting it aside to dance. Arms thrown out to my sides, I wiggled to the beat, gathering a plate and utensils, setting them down…

Arms I’d know anywhere encircled me, dragged me to the floor, and forced my face against the hardwood.

“Oh fuck! Yes!” I cried.

The butt plug I wore disappeared, and he roughly stripped my pants down my legs. Two thick, lube-covered fingers forced their way inside me. They fucked me hard, stretching me open before they disappeared and a hot, throbbing, rock-hard cock replaced them.

A hand gripped my waist as another held my head against the wooden floor. The man behind me, riding my ass, fucked me ruthlessly. Brutally. He stole my breath, and I panted, trying to keep the dissociation at bay. I couldn’t let go and float away. I couldn’t miss a minute of this. He would keep fucking me, and I would watch from that floating space I mostly loved, but not when it kept me from experiencing this fully.

His repeated intrusion—even after the stretch and finger fuck and having been plugged with the remote vibrating butt plug—still hurt. I loved it. I relished it. Tears gathered in my eyes. Sobs tore at my throat. And still he fucked me. Used me. Iwas merely a vessel for his pleasure. An inanimate object. A hole to be used and abused as he saw fit.

Cum spurted from my untouched cock, dribbling from the tip of my flaccid flesh.

And still he fucked me.

Through my orgasm, and past it, his cock ravaged me, pounding and pounding and pounding into my oversensitive hole, pegging me perfectly. The rattly, shaky, overstimulated, overwhelmed feeling ran through me.

Everything…

Everything…

Fuck!

It was too much. Tootoomuch. Way too much.

Oh, fuck, not enough. Nowhere near enough.

I screamed. I babbled and cried and begged. I pleaded with him to stop. I demanded that he give me even more.

And all the while cum trickled out of my cock, dripping onto the hardwood under me.

Still, he fucked me. Deep, forceful thrusts that stole from me. Robbed me of thought and breath and…

“FUCK!”