Chapter 31: Pound Town
The jasmine scent in the bedroom usually calmed him. Tonight, it felt cloying, thick with intention. The silk sheets were cool against his stomach, a stark contrast to the heat flooding his face, pressed into the pillow. Alex lay prone, his body strung tight with a tension that had nothing to do with resistance. It was surrender, of a specific and shattering kind.
He heard the click of the harness, the subtle shift of weight on the mattress behind him. Then her hand, warm and firm, on the small of his back.
“Just relax into it, my perfect boy,” Annie murmured, her voice a low melody that vibrated through his bones. “This is for you. This is what you wanted to see, isn’t it? What you wanted to feel?”
He couldn’t answer. His fingers clutched the sheets.
The first press of the silicone was blunt, insistent. She used plenty of lube, cold at first, then warming as she worked him open with a terrifying, practiced patience. It wasn’t pain—she was too careful for that—but a staggering, full sensation that stole his breath. His own cock, trapped beneath him, twitched against the mattress, a pathetic, damp prisoner.
Then she began to move.
It was a slow, deep, rolling rhythm. Each thrust pushed a choked sound from his throat. Each withdrawal left him hollow, aching.
“You feel that, Alexey?” she whispered, leaning over him, her blonde hair curtaining the side of his face. Her sweat already had a different perfume than Toby’s—sweeter, familiar—but the context made it alien. “You feel how deep I can go in you? How I can own this part of you?”
Her free hand traced the line of his spine, then gripped his hip, holding him steady for her measured, penetrating strokes.
“I was thinking about it all day,” she continued, her breath hot in his ear. “After he pinned me. After I felt all that weight. I couldn’t stop thinking about the leverage a man like that has. The physics of it.” She thrust harder, punctuating the word. “Hips like pistons. Do you know what a weighted hip thrust is, my smart engineer?”
Alex whimpered. The sound was muffled by the pillow.
“It’s where you have a barbell across your lap. And you drive upwards.” She mirrored the motion with her own hips, grinding into him. “Toby will have to stand over me. He’ll have to kneel between my legs to position the weight. His hands will be all over my hips, adjusting me. And when I thrust up… my god, Alex, the stretch in my glutes will be insane. He’ll see everything. He’ll be so close he’ll feel the heat.”
Her words were a worse violation than the strap-on. They painted the picture in the air between them, vivid and humiliating. With every sentence, she fucked his mind as thoroughly as she fucked his body.
“And that’s just the exercise,” she sighed, as if marveling at the thought. Her pace increased, becoming less measured, more possessive. “Imagine if it… slipped. If that wasn’t a barbell. If it was him.”
She punctuated the thought with a sharp, deep thrust that made Alex cry out.
“His cock, Alex. You’ve seen the outline in his shorts. You’re not blind.” Her voice dropped to a raw, confidential whisper, laced with faux sympathy. “It would dwarf you. It would split me open. The stretch… it would be a completely different category of feeling. You couldn’t even comprehend it.”
Tears of shame and unbearable arousal welled in Alex’s eyes. His body was a traitor, rocking back against her, seeking more of the friction that was somehow not enough. Pressure coiled in his groin, tight and desperate, but it was a dead-end street. It wouldn’t break.
“Come on, baby,” Annie coaxed, her voice turning stern. “You should be cumming from this. This is your real sex, isn’t it? This hungry little boy-pussy of yours, taking what it’s given. Cum for me. Show me you accept this. Show me you know your place.”
She fucked him harder, her thighs slapping against his, the sound obscene in the candlelit room. Her words became a mantra, a brutal liturgy. “His sweat. His weight. His cock. You’ll watch. You’ll see him put it in me. And you’ll know you did this. You made this happen. You wanted this for us.”
The coil wound tighter. Pleasure spiked, sharp and shocking. He was teetering on a cliff edge, his whole body trembling, breath coming in ragged sobs. He was there.
And then… nothing.
The wave receded without breaking. A hollow, shuddering release of tension that left him spent but unfulfilled, weeping softly into the silk.
Annie stilled. The silence that followed was profound, broken only by their ragged breathing and the distant hum of San Diego traffic. Annie didn’t pull away. She stayed buried inside him, a still, claiming presence. Her hand, which had been gripping his hip, lifted slowly.
Then it came down in a sharp, thunderous crack against his ass.
The sting was brilliant and immediate, a shockwave of pure sensation that made him jolt and cry out. Before the echo of the slap faded, her fingers were tangled in his hair, yanking his head back from the pillow. His spine arched, forced into a painful, vulnerable curve.
“No,” she hissed, her voice stripped of all its playful melody. It was flat, cold, and absolute. “You don’t get to stop. You don’t get to hide.”
She withdrew almost completely and then slammed back into him with a force that knocked the air from his lungs. It wasn’t the rolling rhythm from before. This was punitive, a piston-drill aimed with devastating accuracy. She adjusted her angle minutely, and on the next thrust, a lightning bolt of pure, electric pleasure seared through his core.
“There,” she snarled, holding herself deep, grinding against that newfound, terrifying spot. “That’s it. That’s your natural place. Under me. Taking it.”
She began to fuck him in earnest, a ruthless, driving tempo that punished the mattress and his body with equal ferocity. Each impact of her pelvis against his bruised ass was a damp, brutal report. Each precise strike to his prostate made his vision whiten at the edges.
“You will cum,” she commanded, her breath ragged with effort. “You will cum from this, from your boy-pussy, exactly like I said. Because I said so.”
She leaned over, her lips against his ear, her voice a ragged, hot whisper that cut through the sounds of their bodies. “You think about him. You think about Toby kneeling between my legs next week, his big stupid hands on me. You think about what he’s packing, and you know you’ll never, ever measure up.”
Her thrusts became shorter, harder, more focused, a machine designed for a single purpose. The pleasure was no longer a wave but a sustained, screaming frequency, tearing through his nerves.
“This is your purpose. Your perfect, perverted purpose. So you better be cuming right fucking now, Alexey, or I swear to god…”
She punctuated the threat with three rapid, drilling thrusts that made him sob.
“I’ll spank this ass so long and so hard you won’t be able to sit at your precious console. You’ll be working from home all next week, standing at your desk, remembering every single stroke while I’m at the studio with him.”
It was the final key, turning in the lock of his shame. The image of his professional life, his engineering dignity, obliterated by the consequence of this failure. The coil, so stubborn before, snapped.
A broken, guttural sound ripped from his throat, part agony, part surrender. His body convulsed, clenching around the invading silicone as a dry, racking orgasm tore through him, milking nothing but shame and devastating release from his untouched cock. He shook violently, tears streaming, completely unraveled beneath her.
Annie rode him through it, slowing to a deep, possessive grind until his shudders subsided into weak tremors. She finally stilled, letting go of his hair. Her hand, now gentle, smoothed the sweat-dampened hair at his temple.
“Good,” she whispered, the coldness gone, replaced by a warm, terrifying satisfaction. “My perfect boy.”
She pulled out slowly and lay down beside him, gathering his limp form against her. She kissed his shoulder, his neck, his damp cheek. “See? You can do anything I tell you to. You’re so strong for me.”
He couldn’t speak. He could only tremble, buried in the scent of jasmine and their shared sweat. Annie’s breath was soft and steady against his neck, a calming counterpoint to the storm that had just wrecked him.
She shifted, propping herself up on an elbow to look down at his face. Her expression was one of pure, unadulterated delight. She beamed at him, her blue eyes sparkling in the low light, happy that he finally came from only his prostate, and how hard he came, fuck!
“Obviously the thought of me spanking your ass hard did it for you,” she giggles, the sound light and musical, a complete contrast to her earlier severity. She stroked his hair back from his damp forehead, her fingers gentle. “My sensitive, perfect man. You just need the right motivation.”
She lay back down and wrapped herself around him, molding her body to his back as the big spoon, holding him tightly. Her skin was warm, her embrace a possessive shelter. She nuzzled into the space between his shoulder blades, murmuring how much she loved him into his skin.
“I love you so much, Alexey,” she whispered, her voice thick with a drowsy affection. “My perfect, perverted, supportive cuckold. You give me everything.”
He finally found his voice, though it was cracked and small. “I don’t… I don’t understand what that was.”
“Which part?” she asked, her hand splaying possessively over his stomach, pulling him closer. “The part where you had a hands-free orgasm, or the part where you loved it?”
“Both,” he admitted, his mind still reeling with the collision of humiliation and shocking pleasure.
“It’s simple,” she said, as if explaining the weather. “Your body knows what it wants. Your mind is just catching up.” She kissed his shoulder blade. “And I’m here to help translate.”
They lay in silence for a long while, the city’s night sounds filtering through the window. The ache in his body was a deep, full reminder. He felt simultaneously empty and more profoundly filled than ever before.
“So,” Annie said, her tone shifting to casual, as if discussing weekend plans. “The weighted hip thrusts are on Thursday. I bought new shorts for it. They’re shorter. Lululemon.”
Alex’s breath hitched. The casualness was a weapon. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Toby said my form was ‘impressive but could use more depth.’” She mimicked his booming voice poorly, then laughed at herself. “He said he’ll really have to get in there to stabilize the bar. Hands-on coaching.”
Her fingers traced idle patterns on his abdomen. “You’ll be there, right? I want you to see the correction. It’s important for my… development.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a soft command, woven into the post-coital closeness. He felt the hook of it set deep in his gut, a thrilling, terrible pull.
“Yes,” he whispered, the word leaving him like a sigh of surrender.
“Good,” she murmured, snuggling closer. Her voice was a satisfied smile in the dark. “It’s going to be a great session. I can feel it.”