I Obey. I Ache. I Wait [F32/M32 ] [gooning] [masturbation] (PT4)

PART 4 The pink dildo comfortably in her mouth when the garage door rumbled open at 5:03 PM. Ty was home early, his briefcase hitting the tile with a thud that made her pulse jump. Peaches didn’t turn around. Just kept kneading bread dough at the kitchen island, her hips swaying to nonexistent music, the pearls in her panties clicking softly with each shift of her thighs. The dough was sticky, flour dusting her wrists, the pink balls pertruding from her lips, slick and glistening with her saliva.

Ty’s footsteps were deliberate. Slow. The click of his dress shoes paused behind her, close enough that she could feel his breath stir the hairs at her nape. “Still holding it,” he observed, voice rough with approval. His palm skated up her spine, fingertips tracing the dip of her waist where the babydoll had ridden up. “Good girl.”

The praise lit up her nerve endings brighter than the suction pumps ever could. Peaches bit down on the toy to stifle a whimper as his other hand slid between her thighs from behind, fingers skating over the soaked lace. The pearls shifted under his touch, rolling against her clit in a way that made her knees buckle. “Fuuuuck,” she gasped, dough forgotten as her hands scrambled for purchase on the counter.

Ty chuckled, low and dark, his teeth grazing her shoulder. “Mm. Not yet.” His fingers withdrew, leaving her clenching around nothing, and she almost sobbed at the loss, until she felt the cool press of metal against her inner thigh. The butt plug’s jewel winked in the afternoon light when she glanced down, its flared base already slick with lube.

The metal was cold against her skin, a shocking contrast to the heat radiating between her thighs. Peaches gasped as Ty traced the plug’s tapered tip along her slit, gathering her slick before circling her asshole with deliberate, teasing pressure. Her grip,loosened on the pink dildo as she grinned, “yes, I need that in me. Thank you sir!” Her knuckles paled, flour dusting her wrist like some perverse parody of innocence. "Ty…" His name came out strangled as he pushed forward, the stretch burning in the best way, her body resisting for one breathless second before yielding. The plug slid home with a soft pop, its jeweled base nestling snug against her.

Ty’s exhale was ragged against her neck. "Look at you," he murmured, his palm flattening over the small of her back to press her harder against the counter. "All stuffed full, still holding onto your toy like a good little slut." His fingers tangled in her hair, yanking just enough to make her arch. The motion forced the plug deeper, the pearls in her panties grinding against her clit, and she cried out, her thighs trembling. "Now finish kneading."

RULE 3 - Peaches whimpered but obeyed, her hands sinking back into the dough with shaky fingers. Every movement jostled the plug, the sensation ricocheting through her oversensitive body. Ty circled her like a predator, his tie loose, his pupils blown black as he watched her struggle. When he reached for the nipple pump still attached to her right breast, she nearly sobbed with relief until the suction hit, the sudden pull making her spine bow. "You've been a really good girl, its time for you to go up stairs" he ordered her, twisting the valve to increase the pressure. "Then you get Donny."

The vacuum hissed as he attached the second cup to her left nipple, the dual sensation sending sparks straight to her clit. Peaches’ breath came in shallow pants as she shaped the dough into a rough loaf, her movements jerky. Flour clung to her sweat-slicked stomach, her thighs, the crease of her elbow where she’d braced against the counter. She could feel Ty’s gaze like a physical touch, tracing the swell of her pumped pussy lips through the lace, the way her ass clenched around the plug with every shift of her hips.

The vacuum pump's hiss filled the kitchen as Ty squeezed the handle again, the suction dragging Peaches' nipple deeper into the cup with a wet, obscene sound. She gasped, her flour-dusted fingers spasming in the dough half-formed fingerprints left in the soft mound like tiny, desperate prayers. "Almost," Ty murmured, his free hand skating down to hook in the waistband of her panties, the pearls inside rolling against her clit as he tugged. The elastic snapped back with a sting that made her jerk, her hips stuttering forward against the counter's edge.

Sunlight glinted off the jeweled plug when he spun her around, the sudden motion knocking the forgotten pink dildo from her grip. It hit the tile with a dull thud, rolling beneath the island. Peaches made a noise, part protest, part relief, but Ty caught her chin before she could look down. "Eyes on me," he ordered, thumb dragging over her lower lip. His other hand found the pump release valve, twisting it slowly, letting the pressure bleed out in a tapering whine. Her nipples ached as the cups came free, the swollen buds throbbing in the sudden cool air.

The flour on Peaches’ hands smeared across Ty’s dress shirt as she clawed at him, her hips jerking forward to meet the sudden press of his thigh between her legs. “I need to cum,” she protested, “that wasn't my…” she paused, unable to process her options. The pearls in her panties ground against her clit with brutal precision, and she choked on a moan, her teeth sinking into his shoulder through the crisp cotton. Ty didn’t flinchjust tightened his grip on her hair, forcing her head back to expose the frantic flutter of her pulse. “Still so fucking needy,” he growled, his free hand skating down to palm the jeweled plug, nudging it deeper with a cruel twist of his wrist.

Peaches sobbed, her knees buckling, but Ty held her upright, his thigh a relentless pressure against her soaked panties. The counter dug into her lower back, the edge sharp enough to leave marks, and the thought of Ty seeing them later, liking them, sent a fresh gush of slickness between her thighs. “Please,” she slurred, her voice wrecked, her fingers scrambling for purchase on his belt. The metal buckle burned against her palm, the coolness a shock against her overheated skin.

"Cinderella didn't have it so bad, did she?" Peaches giggled, the sound breathy and unhinged as Ty's mouth crashed against hers. The kiss tasted like stolen coffee and shared desperation, his teeth catching her lower lip in a sharp bite that made her moan into him. Her flour-dusted hands left ghostly prints on his ruined dress shirt as she clung to him, her hips grinding against the hard line of his thigh, the pearls in her panties rolling with every frantic movement.

The comparison was absurd, Cinderella with her glass slippers and pumpkin carriages, Peaches with her swollen nipples and jeweled plug, but the fantasy clung to her feverish thoughts as Ty backed her against the fridge. The stainless steel cooled her overheated skin, her breath fogging the surface with each panting exhale. His hands were everywhere, tracing the red marks left by the suction cups, palming the curve of her belly where she had stretched herself earlier, fingers dipping beneath the lace hem to tease the plug's base. "You're dripping," he growled against her throat, his voice rougher than she'd ever heard it.

The command sent a shiver down Peaches' spine, not from the cold, but from the electric anticipation crackling through her overheated nerves. Ty's voice had dropped to that low, graveled register that always made her pulse stutter, the one that brooked no argument. She licked her lips, tasting his sweet breath, and nodded once before turning on unsteady legs toward the staircase.

Every step upward was agony the plug shifting inside her with each movement, the pearls in her panties rolling against her swollen clit in cruel, perfect rhythm. Her thighs rubbed together with wet, slick sounds that would've embarrassed her if she weren't already so far gone. Halfway up, she had to grip the banister to keep from stumbling, her free hand instinctively flying to her stomach where earlier stretch still left her tender. The memory alone made her whimper, her inner muscles clenching around the jeweled intrusion as if trying to milk something that wasn't there.

The silk blindfold slithered over Peaches’ eyes like a second skin, the darkness sudden and absolute. She gasped as Ty cinched it tight behind her head, the fabric pressing into her damp hairline, her other senses sharpening in its absence. The scent of her own arousal hung thick in the air and something muskier, deeper. Before she could adjust, Ty’s hands were at her breasts, removing the elastic bands around each swollen nipple with practiced precision. The pinch was immediate, vicious, the pressure relief bordering on painful as the skin adjusted. A whimper trapped in her throat.

RULE 4 - The weight of his cool silicone pressed against her parted lips, the toy still faintly tacky with leftover lube. Peaches opened obediently, her tongue darting out to lick a slow stripe along its length before taking it deep, her cheeks hollowing around the girth. The stretch of her jaw was delicious, the way her saliva pooled at the corners of her mouth obscene. She could feel Ty watching, his fingers tangled in her hair to guide the rhythm. “Good girrrl,” he murmured, and the praise lit up her nerve endings brighter than the suction pumps ever had.

The first touch came at the base of her spine, light, almost hesitant, like fingertips testing the heat of a stove. Peaches gasped into Donny’s silicone length, her body jerking under the sudden contact. Ty’s palm flattened there next, warm and steady, sliding up the knobs of her vertebrae with agonizing slowness. His other hand followed the curve of her ribcage, thumb skating along the underside of her breast, and she whimpered around the dildo, her saliva dripping onto her sheets.

The next caress was softer still, just the whisper of his lips against her inner wrist as he guided her arms behind her back, the rope silky against her flour-dusted skin. Peaches shuddered when he paused to lick a stripe up her pulse point, his tongue hot and wet against her overstimulated flesh. Every nerve ending felt raw, exposed, as if her skin had been peeled back to reveal the frantic thrum of her blood beneath. She arched into the touch instinctively, her nipples straining against their bindings, the plug shifting inside her with the movement.

The rope bit into Peaches' wrists with each ragged breath, the rough fibers catching on her flour-dusted skin as Ty secured the final knot. She tested the restraints instinctively, just enough to feel the delicious give of the silk, the way it held her arms arched behind her like wings. Donny slipped from her lips with a wet pop, her jaw aching from the stretch, saliva trailing down her chin. Before she could catch her breath, Ty's palm cradled the back of her skull, tilting her face upward into the darkness. "Count for me," he murmured, his thumb brushing the swell of her lower lip.

The first pump hissed against her left nipple, the suction dragging her swollen flesh into the cup with a sharp, sweet pain. Peaches gasped out "One," her voice cracking as the vacuum tightened. The second pump came faster, the pull deeper, and she barely choked out "Two" before her hips jerked forward, seeking friction against empty air. Ty's chuckle vibrated against her collarbone as he attached the third cup to her clit, the sudden pressure wringing a broken "Three" from her throat.

The pink dildo glistened in Peaches' trembling hand, slick with lube and her own arousal. Her pussy lips were still swollen from the morning's pumping, puffy and hypersensitive, the outer folds glistening with the remnants of cherry-flavored slickness. She traced the toy's tapered tip along her slit, gasping as it caught on her engorged clit. "Look at you," she murmured to herself, watching in the full-length mirror as the silicone parted her folds with obscene ease. "All puffed up and pretty for me."

The first inch slid in without resistance, her body welcoming the familiar stretch despite its newness. Peaches moaned, her hips rolling forward instinctively as the dildo's ridges dragged against her inner walls. Unlike Donny's brutal fullness, this toy teased, just thick enough to remind her she was filled, just slender enough to make her crave more. She pumped it slowly, watching her reflection's abdomen twitch with each shallow thrust, her pumped lips clinging to the silicone with each withdrawal.

Contacting in ecstasy, the gemmed toy was pushed past its apex, rolling off the bed and hitting the carpet with a heavy thud, its green glistening under the bedroom’s dim light. Peaches barely had time to register the loss before Ty’s palm gripped hers, his other hand knuckles brushing her swollen clit as he guided himself to her entrance. The head of his cock caught on her pumped folds, slick with lube and her own arousal, and she whimpered at the contrast: where the emptiness left by her stretch left her cool hollow and unyielding, Ty was hot, alive, his pulse thrumming against her sensitive flesh.

He didn’t push in. Not yet. Just rocked forward, letting the blunt pressure of him nudge Donny deeper inside her. Peaches gasped as the dual stretch burned through her, Ty’s thickness pressing outward, Donny’s swollen bulk pressing up, until her stomach visibly rounded beneath her. “Fuck” she slurred, her bound arms straining against the silk ropes, her hips canting up in helpless invitation.

Ty exhaled through his nose, his free hand skimming up her trembling thigh to grip her hip. “Watch,” he ordered, nodding toward the full-length mirror angled beside the bed. Peaches’ gaze flicked to their reflection, her blindfolded face flushed, her lips parted around panting breaths, her body splayed open and stuffed just as he sank home in one relentless thrust.

The cry that tore from her throat was raw, animal. Ty pressed against her cervix, his ridges amplifying every inch of Ty’s cock as he bottomed out, her cunt fluttering around the impossible stretch. She could see it in the mirror the way her abdomen bulged slightly, the outline of him distending her pussy lips with each shallow rock. Ty groaned, his fingers digging into her hip hard enough to bruise. “Christ. You’re greedy.”

The pressure built like a storm inside Peaches, the plug stretching her to the brink while Ty's cock pinned her in place, every shallow thrust nudging it deeper, every withdrawal dragging the jeweled base against her swollen clit. She twisted against the ropes, her breath coming in ragged hitches, sweat-slicked thighs trembling with the effort to hold still. "Ty….." His name dissolved into a whimper as he rocked forward again, the dual fullness lighting up her nerves like live wires.

"Ask." His voice was gravel, his teeth grazing the shell of her ear. The command sent a fresh pulse of slickness between her thighs, her body clenching around him in helpless response. Peaches whimpered, her hips stuttering against the sheets so close, so fucking close but Ty stilled, his palm flattening against her lower back. "Beg for it."

The words cracked something open in her chest. Peaches arched against him, her blindfold damp with tears, her voice raw from earlier screams. "Please" she gasped, the syllables fractured. "Please, Ty, let me let me cum, let me take it out, I need…." Her throat closed around the rest, the plea dissolving into a sob as his thumb circled the plug's base, pressing just there, and her vision whited out for a second.

Ty chuckled, dark and satisfied, his lips brushing the frantic pulse at her throat. "Not yet" His fingers tightened on the jewel, twisting it slowly, and Peaches shrieked, her body bowing off the bed. "Tell me what you'll do for it."

The plug twisted again a slow, deliberate rotation that sent sparks arcing up Peaches’ spine. Her breath came in jagged bursts, her thighs slick with sweat as they trembled against Ty’s hips. “A-anything,” she gasped, the word dissolving into a whine as his fingers skimmed the swollen ridge of her clit. “I’ll….Christ……I’ll suck you off after, I’ll wear the pink one all night, I’ll..”

Ty’s laugh was low, vibrating against the nape of her neck where he’d buried his face. “Try again.” His teeth grazed her pulse point, sharp enough to make her jerk, the movement forcing the plug impossibly deeper. Peaches sobbed, her fingers clawing at the sheets, her bound arms straining against the silk ropes. The stretch was unbearable glorious her pussy fluttering around Ty’s cock while her ass struggled to accommodate the relentless press of metal.

The mirror reflected her wrecked expression lips parted, blindfold askew, tears tracking through the flour still dusting her cheeks. Ty’s hand splayed over her stomach, pressing down just enough to make her feel the bulge of him inside her. “Tell me,” he murmured, his thumb circling her navel. “Tell me what you really want.”

The confession tore from her throat like a live wire. “I want…” Peaches choked, her hips stuttering forward. “I want you to fuck me pregnant, Ty. Want you to fill me up until it takes until I’m so full of you I can’t….” Her voice broke as his hips snapped forward, the sudden thrust punching the air from her lungs.

Peaches' orgasm hit like a snapped wire, white-hot and jagged, her body arching off the bed with such violence the silk ropes bit into her wrists. She didn't scream. Couldn't. The pleasure locked her throat, her mouth gaping soundlessly as her pussy clamped around Ty's cock in rhythmic spasms, the swollen dildo inside her ass amplifying each pulse until her vision greyed at the edges.

Then release. A contraction so intense Ty was forced out of her with no appeal. A hot gush of fluid splattered Ty's thighs, the sound obscenely wet as her she convulsed beneath him, her inner muscles having milked his cock with her frantic, involuntary squeeze. The scent of her arousal thickened the air, musky and primal, mingling with the coconut oil still smeared across her thighs. Peaches gasped like a drowning woman breaking surface, her hips jerking erratically as the aftershocks rolled through her.

Ty's grip on her hips turned bruising, taming her bucking, on the verge of his own release, he slid back into her, engulfed by a squishy grip. His groan rough against her damp shoulder. "PEACHES fuuuck," he growled, his own control fraying as her spasming walls dragged him deeper. The mirror reflected the mess, her thighs glistening, Ty's dress pants soaked, the bedspread beneath them dark with moisture. Peaches whimpered at the sight, her oversensitive clit throbbing in time with her racing pulse.

She'd heard the stories, read the forums late at night with her fingers between her legs but experiencing it was something else entirely. The way her body emptied without permission, the slick heat of it coating Ty's skin, the primal rightness of being so full she overflowed. Her pussy fluttered weakly around him again, a thin trickle of his cum escaping as Ty rocked forward experimentally.

Ty's fingers trembled as they traced the damp curve of Peaches' spine not from exertion, but from something deeper, something that caught in his throat when he tried to speak. The ropes had left faint crimson lines across her wrists, the suction cups had turned her nipples a bruised purple, and her thighs still shook where they pressed against his hips. Beautiful wreckage. His wreckage.

"You," he began, then swallowed hard, his thumb brushing a stray tear from her cheekbone. The words tangled somewhere between his ribs. "Christ, look at you."

Peaches turned her face into his palm, her lips grazing his calluses. The blindfold hung loose around her neck now, her pupils blown so wide the amber was nearly swallowed. She didn't speak. Didn't need to. The way her fingers curled into his shirt said everything.

Ty gathered her against him, ignoring the mess cooling on his thighs, the way his dress shirt clung to his back with sweat. He pressed his forehead to hers, their breath mingling coconut and something saltier. "Thank you," he murmured, the words rough as gravel.

Her brows knitted. "For...?"

"For this." Ty's hand slid down her spine, fingers splaying over the small of her back where the plug still nestled deep. His thumb pressed into the dimple above her ass, coaxing a shudder from her oversensitive body. "For letting me ruin you so perfectly."

Peaches laughed a breathless, wrecked sound and nipped at his collarbone. "I want you to ruin me harder next time."

The words hung between them, a promise and a dare. Ty's grip tightened, his cock twitching inside her still-swollen cunt. She felt it, the way his breath hitched, the way his hips stuttered forward instinctively. Peaches arched into him, her spent body alight again so soon.

The bedside clock ticked loudly in the aftermath. 6:17 PM. Dishes still in the sink. Flour dusting the kitchen tiles. The pink dildo lay forgotten on the tile, gleaming under the light. It didn't matter. They lay in a deep embrace, exhausted and enlightened from today's experience. A smirk crosses her face as she whispers “good boy” to her muse.

The bedside clock’s ticking was the only sound that dared cut through the silence. 6:17 PM. Late enough that the sun had dipped below the house across the street, casting long shadows over the flour-dusted kitchen tiles. A mixing bowl sat abandoned on the counter, its remnants of dough drying into a crust. Neither of them had remembered to clean up not after that.

The pink dildo lay where it had fallen, glinting under the overhead light like some absurd trophy. Peaches didn’t care. She stretched her arms above her head, fingers brushing the headboard, and let out a contented sigh. Beside her, Ty was still catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in slow, heavy waves. She turned her head just enough to show her smirk, curled at the edges before she even realized it was there. The words slipped out like a secret, barely louder than the rustle of sheets as she shifted her weight. “you're my good boy.”