Page 73 of Chasing After You

I pet his head gently. “Don’t be scared, angel. Don’t you want to come?”

A high-pitched whine emanated from him. “I’m—scared, please…”

“I’m going to take off your cock ring now, okay?” I reached down, gripping his soaked, throbbing length in my hand. He bucked into the hold, sobbing. As carefully as I could, I removed the ring, and gave his shaft a few strong pumps.

He convulsed against the bench, letting out a long, pained moan as close to eight hours’ worth of cum gushed out of his cock.

“There,” I crooned. “Good boy. Let it all out for me. That’s it, angel.”

His orgasm seemed never-ending, wrenching rope after rope from him until his balls were completely drained. He collapsed against the bench, breathing heavily and erratically, muscles twitching.

“Perfect,” I exhaled.

“Dori…” he whispered, his voice wrecked.

“I’m right here, angel.”

“H-hurts,” he mumbled.

“Hurts? What hurts?”

“Everywhere…”

“Oh, angel. It’s okay, I’ll make it all better. Let’s get those cuffs off of you and get you in a nice hot bath. Is there anythingyou’re craving for breakfast? I’ll get whatever you want. Today will be all about taking care of you.”

He hiccuped, turning his head slightly to look at me with exhaustion etched into his skin. “Donuts,” he whispered.

I smiled. I knew this had been a good idea. I wasn’t sure he’d even realized what I’d done to him yet. “Okay, donuts it is.” I unlocked each of the four cuffs, rubbing the skin to promote blood flow. “I want to get you to the bathroom, angel. Do you think you can try to get up and lean against me?”

“Dunno,” he said. “Help me.”

He struggled to stand, but was eventually able to get upright enough that I could half-walk, half-drag him into the bathroom. I helped lower him into the tub, running warm water from the faucet, before digging into the cabinets beneath my sink and hitting the jackpot—a large bag of Epsom salts.

I poured a few cups into the water, all the while taking stock of the state of his body.

“Is the temperature okay?” I asked quietly.

He nodded, but averted his eyes. “Down… d-down there… feels sore…”

“I’m sorry, angel. Spread your knees apart so I can see.”

He hesitated, but ultimately spread his legs. “Is it bad?” Josh asked in a timid, mousey voice.

“Hmm, it could be worse. I’ll put some medicine on it once you’re out of the bath.”

He nodded and sank deeper into the water. “I’m so tired,” he mumbled.

“Let me wash you, then I’ll get you into bed.”

He peeked at me warily through his lashes. “I can wash myself.”

“I know,” I answered. “But I want to wash you.”

I soaped up a cotton washcloth with a chamomile-scented body wash and began to drag it over his skin.

“I’m confused,” he whispered.

“About what?”