Black Light: Breathless
Excerpt By Eris Adderly
Available at: Amazon (and on Kindle Unlimited!)
“This cock is going in your mouth, Miss Payne.”
And it did.
No further preamble. He came so near his shape blurred, and then warm, latex-sheathed man made contact with her tongue.
There was no warning with the gag in place. Nothing sliding past her lips or teeth. The cavity of her mouth was empty and then it was full. It was like his fingers, with the gloves. A crude medical exam, but more wrong.
Mister M dragged himself out, and then moved back in with a slowness, as if to impress upon her the complete lack of say she had about the situation. Well. That wasn’t true. There was always the red ball, but this was the kind of say she wanted not to have.
He pressed her skull back against the wood with his hips, balls flush to her wet chin, and filled her to the throat. There was nothing to see for a moment but fabric, and Violet felt him leaning over the plank. Leaning, leaning, and she coughed. Her hands splayed. And then the pressure was off, but her eyes went wide. The plug shifted in her ass. A small tug—he had a hold of the long fox tail. The clothespins kept her in the present.
Her Dom began to fuck in and out past the gag, a slow, circular motion, and if Violet thought she’d been streaming saliva before, it was nothing compared to the glut he plumbed out of her now.
Twitches from his hand to the fox tail made the bulb of the plug talk to sensitive nerves. She couldn’t help but grind her hips in the air, and that set off the pins. Her eyes rolled and low noises moved up from the throat he was packing full.
“You like this, don’t you?” He palmed the back of her skull, the latex making sticky noises under his hand.
Violet made incoherent affirmative sounds around him and the gag, And then he wasn’t in her mouth. He was doing something to the back of her neck. A tight feeling released. Fingers were picking metal out from between her teeth, and Violet smacked her lips. Swallowed. She heard the gag hit the platform.
“Show me how much,” he said, holding his prick at the base. “Show me how much you like it.”
Violet showed him.
With lips and eager tongue, and suction. It was all she had, without hands to help, or play in her neck. She hummed and slurped, and he fed it to her, weirdly obscene with that condom slicking him past her tongue.
The first restrained grunts began to fall overhead, and she felt him get leverage from somewhere—probably a grip on the pillory—and begin to truly seat himself home. To fuck her face. Strokes that shunted deep and held for a pause, each a fan on the flames where she tried to breathe against the throatful. Against the hug of the cincher. Against the tug-tug-tug of the foxtail and the one-two throb of her pinned clit when the rush of blood had nowhere to go, and Violet… Was coming.
Again. Again! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!
She wailed and her hips jerked. One of the clothespins on her lips popped off and her squeal yipped higher, but nothing dampened that rhythmic grip between her legs.
The dick in her mouth went rock hard, and Mister M growled. She felt him kick against her palate and closed in around him to suck. He’d be filling the latex with semen; every pulse came hot behind that barrier, and Violet opened to the wild notion that maybe they were in the same place together, just then. Both coming, both restricted by latex. Some kind of bizarre simultaneous punishment and reward for each of them.
It felt like she’d never take in enough air, and then he was out of her mouth and she was panting. Humming, swallowing spit, trying to get her jaw to work. Her fingertips had gone tingly, and Violet tried to flex the feeling away while her Dom moved off to do who-knew what.
She groaned when ‘who-knew-what’ became the first clothespin to come off. Second, if she counted the one she’d knocked loose. He pinched two more away, and then the one at her clit, and she didn’t know whether to cry out or moan when his gloved hand plastered over her entire pussy to massage away the bite of little wooden jaws. He was lifting her out of the pillory just when she thought her knees would give and began to walk her around to the waiting stool.
Violet tried not to stumble.
“Sit down here, and I’ll bring you a bottle of water,” he said. He already had his slacks done up, and she had no clue what he’d done with the condom.
“You don’t need to leave,” said another voice, and Violet could see Garreth reaching an arm into the platform spotlight. “Here.” He held out a bottled water to Mister M, who took it with a brief ‘thanks’ and twisted the lid off. Handed it to her.
She drank without ever bothering with the stool. Just stood there, still in full latex and gulped at least a third of it straight down. Her Dom chuckled and hooked her around the waist with an arm, pulling her back to let her lean on his chest while he set his spine against the pillory.
There was an ease to his gestures. A familiarity to his hold that hadn’t been there at the beginning of their scene. Violet let her weight go against him while his arms circled around her middle to peel off his gloves. When he had those draped over the top of the pillory, he moved to unzip the hood. Her face was damp and cool when air hit it, as latex peeled away from her skin. The hood went hanging alongside
the gloves. Then his arms were back, but this time in a loose hold.
“You can probably let go of the ball, now,” he said near her ear.
It was her turn to laugh. Violet released the grip she’d been holding for what felt like ever, and the red ball bounced lightly to the platform. She took another sip of the water, this time less urgent.
“Did you enjoy the latex?” One of his hands traveled down her left side, evaluating the material.
She cocked her head and could feel wisps of her hair, limp with perspiration at her temples. The catsuit still wrapped her limbs and buttocks and breasts in a perverse hug, and only served to amplify the planes and angles of the man pressed at her back.
“Yes, Sir, I did,”
And it did.
No further preamble. He came so near his shape blurred, and then warm, latex-sheathed man made contact with her tongue.
There was no warning with the gag in place. Nothing sliding past her lips or teeth. The cavity of her mouth was empty and then it was full. It was like his fingers, with the gloves. A crude medical exam, but more wrong.
Mister M dragged himself out, and then moved back in with a slowness, as if to impress upon her the complete lack of say she had about the situation. Well. That wasn’t true. There was always the red ball, but this was the kind of say she wanted not to have.
He pressed her skull back against the wood with his hips, balls flush to her wet chin, and filled her to the throat. There was nothing to see for a moment but fabric, and Violet felt him leaning over the plank. Leaning, leaning, and she coughed. Her hands splayed. And then the pressure was off, but her eyes went wide. The plug shifted in her ass. A small tug—he had a hold of the long fox tail. The clothespins kept her in the present.
Her Dom began to fuck in and out past the gag, a slow, circular motion, and if Violet thought she’d been streaming saliva before, it was nothing compared to the glut he plumbed out of her now.
Twitches from his hand to the fox tail made the bulb of the plug talk to sensitive nerves. She couldn’t help but grind her hips in the air, and that set off the pins. Her eyes rolled and low noises moved up from the throat he was packing full.
“You like this, don’t you?” He palmed the back of her skull, the latex making sticky noises under his hand.
Violet made incoherent affirmative sounds around him and the gag, And then he wasn’t in her mouth. He was doing something to the back of her neck. A tight feeling released. Fingers were picking metal out from between her teeth, and Violet smacked her lips. Swallowed. She heard the gag hit the platform.
“Show me how much,” he said, holding his prick at the base. “Show me how much you like it.”
Violet showed him.
With lips and eager tongue, and suction. It was all she had, without hands to help, or play in her neck. She hummed and slurped, and he fed it to her, weirdly obscene with that condom slicking him past her tongue.
The first restrained grunts began to fall overhead, and she felt him get leverage from somewhere—probably a grip on the pillory—and begin to truly seat himself home. To fuck her face. Strokes that shunted deep and held for a pause, each a fan on the flames where she tried to breathe against the throatful. Against the hug of the cincher. Against the tug-tug-tug of the foxtail and the one-two throb of her pinned clit when the rush of blood had nowhere to go, and Violet… Was coming.
Again. Again! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!
She wailed and her hips jerked. One of the clothespins on her lips popped off and her squeal yipped higher, but nothing dampened that rhythmic grip between her legs.
The dick in her mouth went rock hard, and Mister M growled. She felt him kick against her palate and closed in around him to suck. He’d be filling the latex with semen; every pulse came hot behind that barrier, and Violet opened to the wild notion that maybe they were in the same place together, just then. Both coming, both restricted by latex. Some kind of bizarre simultaneous punishment and reward for each of them.
It felt like she’d never take in enough air, and then he was out of her mouth and she was panting. Humming, swallowing spit, trying to get her jaw to work. Her fingertips had gone tingly, and Violet tried to flex the feeling away while her Dom moved off to do who-knew what.
She groaned when ‘who-knew-what’ became the first clothespin to come off. Second, if she counted the one she’d knocked loose. He pinched two more away, and then the one at her clit, and she didn’t know whether to cry out or moan when his gloved hand plastered over her entire pussy to massage away the bite of little wooden jaws. He was lifting her out of the pillory just when she thought her knees would give and began to walk her around to the waiting stool.
Violet tried not to stumble.
“Sit down here, and I’ll bring you a bottle of water,” he said. He already had his slacks done up, and she had no clue what he’d done with the condom.
“You don’t need to leave,” said another voice, and Violet could see Garreth reaching an arm into the platform spotlight. “Here.” He held out a bottled water to Mister M, who took it with a brief ‘thanks’ and twisted the lid off. Handed it to her.
She drank without ever bothering with the stool. Just stood there, still in full latex and gulped at least a third of it straight down. Her Dom chuckled and hooked her around the waist with an arm, pulling her back to let her lean on his chest while he set his spine against the pillory.
There was an ease to his gestures. A familiarity to his hold that hadn’t been there at the beginning of their scene. Violet let her weight go against him while his arms circled around her middle to peel off his gloves. When he had those draped over the top of the pillory, he moved to unzip the hood. Her face was damp and cool when air hit it, as latex peeled away from her skin. The hood went hanging alongside
the gloves. Then his arms were back, but this time in a loose hold.
“You can probably let go of the ball, now,” he said near her ear.
It was her turn to laugh. Violet released the grip she’d been holding for what felt like ever, and the red ball bounced lightly to the platform. She took another sip of the water, this time less urgent.
“Did you enjoy the latex?” One of his hands traveled down her left side, evaluating the material.
She cocked her head and could feel wisps of her hair, limp with perspiration at her temples. The catsuit still wrapped her limbs and buttocks and breasts in a perverse hug, and only served to amplify the planes and angles of the man pressed at her back.
“Yes, Sir, I did,”