Page 58 of The B!tch is Bad

“For double penetration.”

The round multicolored crystal was mounted on a silver plug. Creed removed it from my sight, and soon I felt the squishy metal toying with my butt hole.

“Oh!” I cried with wonderment. Creed had never played with my ass before, and I had to focus to relax. When he slapped my butt cheek with his other hand, the juices were flowing. My inner pussy walls clutched as though around an invisible dick. “Fuck me, Creed!”

He obliged, entering my snatch with his big tool. I squirmed my hips to show my delight, my acceptance of his penis and the plug. When his free hand went from spanking me to flicking my engorged clit, I lost it. My cry sounded like a drowning woman far down a stone well, echoing against the walls. Pussy clenching around his long dick, he shuddered, holding his tool deep inside me, as though afraid to come too soon.

“Do it, Creed, do it!”

An explosion of mutual ecstasy. His fingers diddled me to climax, the blissful contractions rolling so high up my inner walls my uterus cramped with pleasure. Spasm after spasm sucking the jizz from his dick. He skillfully diddled my button and the butt plug at the same time, leaving me gasping for air.

Creed shot such a load it gushed down my inner thigh. He lunged his dong into me, hips shuddering, until I had to yelp.

“Enough! I can’t take any more!”

His fingers slowed as I continued to spasm. Humping me deeply, his coarse groans were of deep satisfaction.

I don’t know how long it was until he flipped me onto my back, the butt plug still jiggling inside me. He kissed me full on the mouth, seeming to take pleasure in lapping his own precum from my tongue.

Creed fell away from me, breaking the kiss. He gazed down at me starry-eyed, reaching behind me to undo a few hemp knots without even looking. When he tugged the rope from my wrists, I snaked my hands around his heated back, rotating my shoulders to stretch. He took longer easing the bonds from my torso, petting my boobs with the back of his hand, making me hiss and twitch when he grazed my nipples.

“We’re going to have to be more careful of Rushmore in the future.”

“Yes.” We didn’t know the sex of our tiny baby’s name yet, but Creed had taken to calling him Rushmore, or Rushy. I’d imagined I was infertile, never having become pregnant after being raped by Fingerhut. Thank God. Now I knew it had been Fingerhut’s infertility, as I’d become with child quickly with Creed, to our pleasure. We hadn’t told anyone about Rushy yet. We hadn’t chosen to know the sex at eight weeks. “No more butt plugs.”

His laugh was beautiful, his head thrown back, eyes closed. I kissed his brawny throat.

He said, “I want you to know, that butt plug is Swarovski crystal. So now you’ve experienced skin play. How did you feel?”

“I liked it, Creed. It made me feel so alive, I never knew where the next scrape would come from.”

“Mm,” he said.

I smiled. “Mm. That’s Creed-speak for ‘I’m totally shocked, my precious desert flower.’”

I jumped when a careful knock came on our door. It was Lytton. He’d been Creed’s best man.

“Creed? I need to warn you. Ford and the brothers are itching to christen your new cut.”

Now that made Creed jump. I had no idea what Lytton was talking about, other than Creed was their new Prospect, and he’d be getting a leather vest, with some rockers. And of course a Prospect patch. I, as his old lady, would sew the top rocker on first. I had yet to choose a luscious leather jacket for myself where I would stitch “Property Of” onto the back.

I took this opportunity to visit the can, shaking out my stunning white satin dress before stepping into it again. When I came out, Gudrun was at the door.

“Patience. I just want to make sure you’re all set.”

She meant with my medication, and I gestured for her to come in while I ran my fingers through my hair before pinning it back up. I’d returned my hair to its old golden shade, daring to be real.

“I think I’m good to go for another month. But I wanted to ask you. I’m feeling pretty okay, secure in my love with Creed. Can I taper off the Cymbalta?”

The redheaded nurse grinned. “I was going to ask you that, but didn’t want to push. Yeah sure, go ahead! Taper from 60 milligrams to 40. I’m so incredibly happy for you two. Well, maybe not about what they’re about to do with Creed’s new cut. But believe me. It’s a fast hazing, this one. With Speed they sent him out into the desert to wander among a bunch of cosplayers dressed like colorful dinosaurs. Oh, and I think they gave him some magic mushrooms before releasing him. He wandered for like a week.”

I had paused at the word “hazing.” I mean, I knew there were some trials Prospects had to go through. We just didn’t think about anything like that, what with wedding planning and all. “Wait, about to do? Like, right now?” That would explain why Creed had raced down the hallway with Lytton.

“Yeah. Off to the side, by the elk enclosure. Just remember. Your brain chemical imbalance will always be there, no matter how few medications you take.”

Gudrun called out that last part as I picked up my skirts and skittered down the hall. Delving through the crowd, I was stopped by a bunch of well-wishers.

“Hey,” slurred Duji, a glass of Pinot in his paw. “Yesterday’s eleven across was a bitch, wasn’t it?” We’d been texting about New York Times crossword puzzle clues.