Room Six

He enters.

I follow.

──────────

The hallway.

Seven doors.

One has already been opened.

Choose carefully.

ROOM SIX

──────────

One more door.

One more secret.

I step inside.

Room 6, the indigo room.

Damon is tightening the last black leather strap holding my ankle to my thigh, secured to the platform I am lying on, ensuring my folded legs remain spread wide. I’m suddenly grateful for the yoga I have been doing. The flexibility I have gained is the sole reason I undertook it to begin with. Damon has been challenging my body, and after the first two rooms, I decided this was necessary. I could barely walk the next day. My body thought I had done a three-hour kickboxing session. It was a wake-up call.

Damon walks around this elevated ‘platter,’ as he calls it, with me being the main course. As he does, he pulls on the leather bindings securing my wrists above my head and to the platform, smirking as he steps back. His eyes zero in on my totally exposed core as he stands before me, admiring what his handiwork thus far has achieved.

“Your wet pussy tells me you enjoy being tied up, rainbow.” Dark chocolate eyes are no more. His eyes are almost black with the lust dilating his pupils, this look making him appear extra dangerous. Lethal. But I am not scared. This man adores me. He will not hurt me. And if he does, I will be in the realm of pleasurable pain.

His eyes eat me up, and while before I might have been self-conscious, that feeling exists no more. His obsession means that every part of my body is idolized, especially my pussy. And I love it. Today would be no different.

This is the clit playroom. Damon warned me that this might be the most intense room so far, which worries me as I thought some other rooms already fit that description. But looking at the array of toys decorating the space beside me, I can almost understand.

Clit pumps, clit vibrators, a feather, clit whips, an elastic band, and even some whipped cream all await me. Excitement whizzes through my being, and I can feel myself getting wetter thinking of what will come.

“Mmmm, such a juicy cunt, Sienna. I’m going to make you come so many times that you will beg me to stop. I’m going to make you squirt all over my hands, my face, and then finally my cock,” Damon murmurs, swiping his finger through my wet slit as I gasp before licking it.

He picks up the large feather, drawing it slowly along the skin of my ankle, calf, and inner thigh. Goosebumps join the party, and I shiver, the feather both ticklish and arousing. The combination is so foreign that I squirm as my attempts to get away and get closer to the object clash.

Damon’s hand slides down my thigh, and then his fingers are on my most sensitive area as he exposes my clit, his breath on the bundle of nerves pulling a moan from me as I arch up. The feather gently caresses my nub, sending delicious waves of pleasure ebbing over my body. It’s a delightful new feeling, and I am surprised that a stroke so light is doing anything to me, but it is. An orgasm is building slowly, but I need more. More friction. More pressure.

Damon senses this and picks up a clit vibrator, setting it on a low speed as he replaces the feather's ministrations with one that feels almost like sucking. A zing of pleasure shoots out, and I moan loudly as he increases the speed. When two thick fingers invade my pussy, the first orgasm crashes through me as I pull against the restraints, their give non-existent. I’m not going anywhere soon, just like Daddy Damon wants.

Damon does not give me a chance to recover, and my eyes fly open when I hear the sound of a lid popping open, followed by the sound of cream and then cold as it hits my clit. It’s a sensation overload. He applies a liberal amount before diving in, lapping me up as I cry out. His mouth does not let up, and before I can comprehend what is happening, I am coming again, my legs spasming as I try to lock Damon's face in place. But I cannot move, and he continues, even plunging his fingers into me as he strokes me relentlessly.

“Fuck, rainbow. You taste so delicious I want to fucking eat that cunt of yours out every minute of every day.”

Oh my god. He kisses me, and the combination of cream and my juices lingers, making my stomach clench the way it always does when I feel like I am doing something wrong. This is definitely deliciously wrong. His smirking when he pulls away tells me he knows I have an internal dilemma. Still. As often as I have tasted myself on his lips, I still cannot get past the fact.

“Such a naughty girl. Tasting yourself on my lips and liking it,” he chastises without conviction, but still, I blush.

“You can understand why I like it so much.” His eyes are locked with mine, waiting expectantly for me to answer.

I cannot verbalize it, but I nod.

Those few minutes are all I get before Damon picks up the next pleasure device and the one I thought was most intimidating. The clit pump.

He places the open side over my still sensitive nub and then pumps once, the suction exquisite. It's almost the same as when he sucks my clit into his mouth, except there is no letting up, and when he pumps it again, and the pressure increases, I scream. I’m so sensitive that this borders on pain, but when he plunges three fingers into me and starts working me as he trusts in and out, any pain morphs to pleasure, even when he pumps it one more time while adding a fourth finger to the mix, I’m in heaven.

The sound of my juices as Damon thrusts into me, faster and faster, while simultaneously pumping with his other hand to ensure maximum suction, means I am rushing towards a destroy-me-forever orgasm. His pulling on the pump is all that I need as I come so hard I squirt all over his tattooed torso.

I’m moaning incoherently, but he is not done with me. He removes his fingers, placing the clit pump beside me as I try to tell him I can’t come anymore.

“You can, rainbow. I know you can,” he whispers in my ear as he picks up the rubber band.

“I don’t think I can handle that,” I whisper, almost afraid when he lines it up just above my clit, pulling the band taut as he looks me in the eyes.

I bet if I looked at my nub, it would be all red and raw. I’ve accidentally snapped myself with a rubber band before, and the sting is not something I think my clit would like. But then, I didn’t think I would enjoy having it whipped, and I do. So I nod, and the next thing I feel is a sharp sting, followed by pleasure as Damon releases the band. He is not doing it hard, thankfully. Just hard enough to achieve that balance. Like a tattoo. Like a whip. Like the way he bites my nipples.

He does it again, but this time, as the band hits the nerves, he thrusts his cock into me, and I come. Immediately. I’m a panting mess as he thrusts into me, drawing my orgasm out as he gently tortures my clit with the band.

He grabs my secured thighs and starts pounding into me, the sound of our bodies meeting frantically, pulling yet another orgasm forward. Fuck. He is going to destroy me. And he does as he slaps my ass and then circles my raw nub with his thumb, sending me into another squirting orgasm as I feel him twitch and then explode.

We stay like that for a few moments, leveled.

“You’re magnificent, rainbow,” he cooes, releasing me from the bindings as he massages the kinks out of my limp legs.

I’m absolutely finished. I’ve never come as much as I have, and when he picks me up, I can see the devastation left behind. It’s a pussy massacre. His words from earlier come back to haunt me. This was definitely the most intense room out of all the ones I had experienced so far.

“Time to get you cleaned up,” he says, cradling me in his arms like a treasure.

Because to him, I am.

Just like to me, he is my everything.

I close my eyes thinking that and then disappear into an utterly blissful sleep. I’ll need it for the next room.

──────────

The door clicks shut behind me.

One remains.