That was incredibly hot

“...goddamn lucky you didn’t rupture anything in him!”

“Yes, you’ve said that. Three times. I fucked up, ok? I know I did.”

“How could you…”

“...carried away.”

~

“I want to make sure he won’t be damaged.”

“Then don’t…”

~

“Yes… yes… yes I’m aware of the risks. Send me the materials.”

~

I stir, my mind surfacing for the first time in what seems like longer than it ought to have been. I start to sit up, then quickly change my mind and lie back down as my whole body objects. You come over to me. “Hello, boy. How’re you feeling?”

“Like I was punched in the liver.” Discomfort flashes across your face for a moment, but only a moment.

“You did so good for me, boy. So, so good.” For a moment, I want to hate you for it, that you had me brutalized so badly, and all you have to say is that I took it well. But you’re my Sir, and something deep in me basks in your praise, even this. Besides, you own me. Hating you would only make us both miserable.

“Thank you, Sir.” You kneel next to me, help me sit up. It hurts like nothing I’ve experienced before, in a part of me other people weren’t supposed to be able to reach. I hiss and gasp as I settle against the pillows you placed here for me. You bring me one of my nutritional shakes and a straw, and stroke my hair as I sip at it.

“My very good boy. You rest, now. You need to finish healing, before-” You cut yourself off, but an icy chill runs down my spine.

“Before… what, Sir?” You ruffle my hair again, but this time you don’t meet my eyes.

“I don’t want you injured like that again. It was too much, too fast. So I’m gonna need you to practice for me.”

“Practice?” The shake falls from my fingers. I barely notice. “You mean… you want to do it again?” The pain in my gut surges as my body tenses.

“You’re my good boy, remember? You please me, obey me. Even when you hate it, when it hurts. That’s what you’re for. Right?”

I mouth wordlessly at you. Suddenly you’re on top of me, your hand wrapped around my throat, pressing me past the pillows to the hard wall behind me. I cough helplessly, whining as your weight presses against my aching body. “I like keeping you as my good boy, so willing, so obedient. But I don’t need that from you, boy. I own you. If you balk at me, I can keep you in much less pleasant conditions.” You grind the back of my head against the wall to reinforce your point. I **** and gasp as your hand cuts off my air. “Seeing you, with that arm buried up your ass, your stomach bulging with it, was maybe the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You’re going to practice, and you’re going to stretch, and I don’t care how much you cry and beg, if I have to tie you down every goddamn time, you’re going to take my fucking fist up your ass. Over and over. And the rest of my forearm. Maybe more, in time. Because you’re mine, to take what I want from, and what I want from you is your belly bulging around the fist I’ve buried in you. Do you understand me?”

I squeak, unable to answer without air. You let go, and I suck in a **** lungful of air, nodding my head as fast as it will go. “Yes Sir, I understand Sir. Please, I’ll be good for you, I’ll keep being your good boy.”

“That’s what I hoped you’d say.” Your fingers run through my hair, but I can’t find any comfort in it this time. You put your other hand low on my belly, and even that light touch pulls a gasp from me. “You know, I’ve been researching, and with enough practice you ought to be able to take one fist in your ass and another in your cunt. You’ll be so wonderfully full for me, more than ever before. Probably more that you ever dreamed possible, is that right, boy?”

Tears run down my face as I try and fail to imagine what that kind of fullness might feel like, how much it would hurt. Will hurt. “Yes Sir.”

“You’ll be gorgeous for me. Such a pretty picture. It’s a shame I won’t be able to do anything with my cock, with both my hands and your holes occupied. Unless… now there’s an idea.”

“Sir?”

“I could have casts taken of my hands and arm, and get an exact replica made. Then I could pick you up, line up your ass and cunt, and watch you slide helplessly deeper and deeper down. And once you’ve bottomed out, I can admire you from every angle. Feel that swollen belly from the outside.” Your breathing is picking up, and you’re stroking yourself half-consciously through your pants. “Use your lovely little mouth with my cock, while you’re still so gorgeously full.” You impatiently pull your cock out and kneel over me, pressing it to my mouth. I open for you, and you thrust deep into my throat, my skull grinding against the wall. I haven’t stopped crying. You tip my face up as you pull out, thrust in again, as I **** on you.

“You hurt so pretty, boy. It’s one of the things I like best about you. Maybe sometimes, I’ll have you mounted on that replica, and just leave you there while I go about my day. Put it on wheels, so I can bring you with me room to room while I work. Let your noises serenade me through the day.” That thought pushes you over the edge, and you come hard down my throat, panting in the aftermath of your orgasm. I swallow it down, like your good boy should. It takes a little while for you to get the breath back to speak. “God, yes. We’re absolutely doing that.” I don’t try to suppress my sob. You don’t care if I’m loud at home. You smirk down at me. “What a good, pathetic boy. Rest now. You need to finish healing, so you can start training to be so beautifully full for me.”