Adult-FanFiction.org : Comics

Edge	By : jaydepaints Category: Comics > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 1953 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Edge
- 1
Title: Edge

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Please, you think I own the turtles? I give my paltry writings away for free; so don’t bother to sue me.

Credits: Smut is addicting. I credit this fic to smut! Thanks to Kya for the beta read.

"Don, can I ask you a question?"

"You may," Don responded, stressing the second word a little. It was a correction, but Ashley ignored it in her pursuit of more interesting knowledge.

"Why do you have manacles hanging from your ceiling?"

Don turned away from the bookshelf, and looked up at the ceiling of his bedroom. From a sturdy hook hung a pair of leather cuffs attached to narrow chains. His lips twitched a little, and he turned back to his personal library.

"It’s an experiment," he replied, running his finger along the row of periodicals. "And they are cuffs, not manacles. Manacles would be made of metal."

Ashley spun, and narrowed her eyes at his back. Stuffy know-it-all. She marched over, and nudged his arm with hers. "Give. What’s the experiment?" She demanded. He failed to react to the question, and she gritted her teeth. "Donatello," she growled in a warning tone.

"Ash, I’m trying to find a particular issue here," he answered, perusing the next shelf down.

Curling her hands into tight fists, Ash fought down the temptation to kick him in the shell. "What issue are you looking for?" She snapped.

"45," he responded calmly. Ashley scooted between him and the shelf, and found the issue on the second to the bottom shelf. She tugged it out, and slapped it against his plastron.

"Here. Now what is the experiment?" Ashley insisted. Don smiled his gentle half-smile.

"I’ll show you," he offered. "Come over here." Curious, Ashley trailed Don over to the cuffs. "Stand underneath them."

Ash shook her head slowly. "No fucking way, Don." She crossed her arms over her chest and took a step back.

"Now Ash, I doubt sincerely that this is the first time you’ve been restrained," Don commented. He watched the temper flare in her eyes. "How badly do you want your answer?" He could see her wavering a little. She hated to back down from an open challenge.

"Okay, but you do anything really weird to me, and you are one sorry turtle when I get loose," she threatened darkly. Ash stepped under the cuffs with a mutinous expression on her face.

"Raise your arms," Don instructed, his tone gentle. Ashley lifted her arms, and Don reached up to secure the cuffs around her wrists. He checked them to be certain they weren’t tight enough to cut off circulation, but that she wouldn’t be able to slip her hands out.

"Fur-lined. Kinky," she remarked flippantly. "Is this the part where you play mad scientist, and I get to be your specimen?"

"You’re not a bad specimen, I suppose," Don considered, rubbing his chin as he studied her. "I would have to study you further to be certain of your usefulness."

"I am an excellent specimen you idiot," Ash retorted. Don tilted his head, and narrowed his eyes at the insult. She wrapped her hands around the chains, and gave them an experimental tug. The ring in the ceiling held fast.

"We’ll see," Don said. He walked around behind her, and Ash strained her neck to see what he was doing. "Nice skirt," he complimented in a bland tone.

"Thank you," Ashley responded automatically. She wished she could observe whatever he was doing. It made her skin to crawl to have him out of sight. She felt a hand slide over her ass, and she jerked away, startled.

"Sorry, you won’t do for the experiment. You’re too … touchy," Don observed, his tone hinting at his disappointment as he moved away.

"I’m too touchy? Are you out of your fucking mind, Don?" She turned, twisting the chains above her head.

"Just won’t work," he muttered, shaking his head. Ash rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Don, get back here. Finish whatever bizarre inspection you were doing, and tell me what this experiment is," Ash offered in a less than conciliatory tone.

"If you’re certain you can proceed," Don responded, heading back in her direction. "Turn around again. You’ll scratch the chains that way." Sighing at Don’s fussiness, Ashley faced the other direction. His hand glided over her skirt again, but she stayed still this time. His fingers reached the hem, and he lifted it up and tucked it into the waistband. "Pantyhose," he noted. "But no panties."

Ash shrugged. She opened her mouth to make a sarcastic comment, and kept it open when Don caught the pantyhose at her waist and yanked them down to mid-thigh.

"Hmm, that won’t do," Don mumbled. She heard him take something from his belt.

"What are you … Hey!" She protested as she heard snipping. Ash glanced down to see scissors appear between her legs, cutting the panty hose in half. "You owe me a pair of pantyhose, Don," she complained bitterly.
"I’ll buy you more pantyhose," Don agreed equably. He slipped the small scissors back into his belt. His hand curved over her bare skin, squeezing gently. Ash struggled not to flinch away, but then relaxed when his hand disappeared. A moment later she jumped when a stinging slap landed on her left butt cheek.

"Don, what the fuck?" Ash questioned, trying to move out of range, only to be brought up short by the cuffs around her wrists.

"Did you know that pain, just the right sort of pain, would increase your pleasure?" Don commented, just before he struck again. Ash jerked against the chains, and another slap landed.

Her face flushed with anger and humiliation. Who the hell did he think he was to be spanking her? She tried to anticipate the next hit, and managed to dodge to the side a bit. His hand hit closer to her hip that time, but it still hurt. The next blow was harder, and Ash made a small noise in response. The same spot was struck again, and she grunted in pain, and kicked back.

The blows stopped abruptly. Ash waited through Don’s silence, her panting breaths seeming very loud in the room.

Don circled around her. She watched him carefully, her skin stinging. His narrowed eyes reminded her of hunting birds. Hawks, falcons -- he looked like he could take a bite out of her. She hadn’t even managed to connect with that kick, but he was not happy.

Warmed up now, Don brought out the scissors again. Ash eyed them suspiciously, until he caught the hem of her t-shirt, and started cutting. "You shit, that’s my favorite shirt," Ash shouted. She threw herself backward, yanking the shirt out of his hand.

"Ash, it’s a plain, black t-shirt. You can get another one. In fact, your closet is full of t-shirts just like this one," Don corrected. He curled his finger, indicating she should move back into position again. Ash sneered at him, and hauled on the chains, putting her whole body into it. The hook didn’t budge.

Before she could even register the movement, Don’s arm came out and he grabbed the collar of her t-shirt in his hand. He reeled her in close, and Ash saw the dark fury in his eyes. "You want to push me," Don said, tone silky and mild. Ash’s eyes widened, and the sneer slipped off her face. She had pushed him – hard. She swallowed as she felt cold metal drag up the front of her left thigh. The scissors.

She didn’t so much as twitch as the metal traveled up and slid between her legs. Delicately the scissors parted her curls, and rubbed lightly over her skin. "Do you have anything more to say about your shirt, Ash?" She shook her head. It was only a shirt. It was irritating as hell, but it was only a shirt. The scissors retreated, and Ash took a shuddering breath. She hadn’t realized it, but at some point she had stopped taking air.

Releasing her t-shirt, Don’s hand slid down the front of her shirt, and caught the hem again. He continued cutting all the way up and through the collar. The damaged shirt hung open, revealing Ash’s bra. "This is very nice. Demi-cup, right?" He ran a finger along her breast just above the silky black fabric. "Did you wear this for me, Ash?"

She frowned at him, still pissed over the shirt.

"The experiment," Don breathed. Her frown faded as she realized she was finally getting her answer. "I have heard that a woman’s nipples can become sensitive enough to stimulate orgasm. It takes intense training, of course."

"Intense training," Ash parroted, stunned. Her rage over her ruined clothing had gone by the wayside.

"You missed something, Ash, when you were noticing what is new in my room." He walked over to his desk and picked up something that glinted in the dim light and brought it over to her. Two long metal clips hung on a delicate silver chain that dangled from his fingers. He held one of the clips up before her wide eyes, and pressed it open with his thumb and finger. The rounded teeth of the clip appeared, and Ashley breathed in sharply. "Do you know what this is?"

She shook her head, her hair falling into her eyes. She tried to blow it away, but it didn't work. She didn't dare take her eyes off of him.

"This, Ash, is a nipple clip," Don continued in the tones of a lecturing schoolteacher. He tugged the half-circle of fabric down and away from her right breast. A high-pitched whine started in the back of her throat as the clip approached. "Ash, do you want to stop?" He queried gently. "Ash?"

"No," she gasped.

"Okay. Here we go," Don stated, opening the clip and closing it carefully on her exposed nipple. When the teeth dug in, Ashley flinched away. The pain was startling. She panted, her eyes squeezed tight as she tried to handle it. Gradually, the pressure eased as the lack of blood flow numbed the flesh. Her breathing slowed, and she started to open her eyes as she felt Don shove down the other side of her bra. He pinched the nipple a little, plumping it, and then touched the closed clip to her skin. He gently circled the areola with the metal tip.

"Ready?"

Anticipating the pain was sometimes worse. Ash looked at the clip with trepidation.

"Ash?"

Nodding, she closed her eyes. "Mmnn," Ash groaned, clamping her teeth together to keep from crying out as the second clip was added. The pain was bright, sharp and alive. She jerked, rattling the chains above her fiercely. She breathed rapidly through her nose as her eyes watered. She opened her eyes with real effort to find Don directly in front of her. He was studying her face intently. She concentrated on him, calming her breathing as the pain receded.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are right now?" Don asked quietly. A drop of liquid slid from the corner of her left eye, and Don caught the tear with his thumb, wiping it away. "Your eyes are wet, and your cheeks are flushed. And the clips ..." Don lifted the chain that hung between her breasts and tugged gently on it. Burning pain made her groan out loud. "They look wonderful on you."

Still holding the chain, he moved his other hand down under her skirt and trailed lightly over her curls, and between her legs.

"You're wet," he whispered, his breath passing over her cheek.

"Please," she husked, shifting her hips forward. She wanted more friction to balance the pain.

"Please what, Ash?" Don asked, moving his hand away.

"Don," she pouted, suddenly shifting forward. He stepped back, and she kicked out at him in annoyance.

When he turned away and walked over to his desk she was a little surprised. When he picked up his magazine, and sat down on his desk chair, she was startled. When he put his feet up, and started to read Ash let out an inarticulate half-snarl, half-shriek of frustration.

Ash stood and watched as Don calmly turned a page. If she were free of these chains, she would smack him in the head with that fucking book. She stamped one of her feet on the floor. He didn’t so much as glance in her direction. "Bastard," she muttered. As far as she was concerned, she could hang in these chains all day. She glanced at the clock on Don’s bedside table, and then glared daggers at the back of his head. He turned another page, and she ground her teeth together. Another glance at the clock showed that an entire minute had passed.

This was fucking torture. Don knew that the one thing Ash could not handle was being ignored.

"Don," she called. He didn’t look up from his article. "Don, come on." Nothing. Ash bit the inside of her cheek. She would not beg. Under no circumstances would she plead with that irritating, self-important, pompous, demanding, bald … turtle.

"How long?" She asked.

"Ash, I’m trying to read," Don responded, turning another page.

When she got loose, she would set fire to his entire bookshelf. She would pour gas on every copy of Scientific America, and dance around the blaze. Naked.

He turned another page.

"Don," she called again. He sighed in response.

"It’s only been about seven minutes, Ash. Do you have no patience at all?"

Was he kidding?

Don moved his feet off the desk, and set down his magazine. He stood up and walked back over to her. He considered her carefully. She wasn’t the slightest bit repentant. He reached out, and opened both clips. Blood flowed back into her nipples and she gasped like a fish at the sudden return of sensation. The pain was blinding. Her fingers tightened around the chains so tightly her knuckles whitened. She panted through the agony. This was worse somehow than when he’d put them on.

As soon as she had calmed, Don slipped both clips back on again. Ash howled, and threw her shoulders forward, trying to protect herself. Don wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed a restraining hand to her lower back. His other hand slipped between her legs to cup her, putting pressure on her clit with the heel of his hand.

"Submit," he responded, his tone firm. He moved his hand back a bit and slid his thick finger back and forth in a taunting rhythm. Not hard enough to bring her to release, but not gentle enough to ignore.

"Mmm," Ash moaned, through her closed lips. She wrenched at the chains desperately. Don shook his head, and removed his teasing hand from between her thighs.

"So stubborn," he noted. He pulled steadily on the chain, and her nipples stretched out.

"Oh, God," she sobbed, throwing her head back. The pain was enormous, and for a moment she couldn't breathe through it. He eased the pressure, and she took in a great gasping lungful of air.

"You know, if you just give in, then you get what you want," Don stated coolly. He fingered the delicate chain and watched Ash carefully. Her head rolled forward again, and she glared at him through a curtain of hair. "You always have to be that little girl that would never cry uncle. Not even when the bigger kids pinned you down and wouldn't let you up."

"Fuck you," she hissed.

He smiled, and leaned his face close to hers. "No, but I will fuck you when you give in," he promised, running a finger over her forehead, trailing through the perspiration that had gathered there. "I will fuck you right here in the middle of the room, and I will take off those clips. All you have to do is say two words, Ash." His voice washed over her, cooling her and setting her limbs to trembling at the same time. "I submit. Or, if you need fewer syllables, I give."

She shook, the chains clinking faintly, as her pride and her desire warred within.

"Two words, Ash," Don offered, twisting the nipple chain in nimble fingers. He didn't pull it again. He waited. The fans in the machines around them whirred softly. Don sighed, and dropped the chain.

"I give," Ash whispered, her voice barely present. "Don, I gi ..." She was cut off by a bruising kiss. Her head rocked back, and Don caught her skull with one of his hands in a strong grip, holding her steady as his tongue searched her mouth greedily. When he moved back, his eyes were bright and sparkling.

"Good girl."

Don whirled around behind her, his movements quick and efficient. He placed his hands on her hips and tugged her back, forcing her to step away from the hook in the ceiling. Bent at an awkward new angle, she clung to the chains and tried not to tip over. Don nudged her feet further apart until she was balanced up on the balls of her feet.

"Now," he growled, sliding a thigh between her spread legs. She felt his cock rub against her ass, and bowed her head forward. A strong hand pressed against her belly, holding her in place as he slid just the head in, and then back out. Gently, teasingly, he fucked her with only the head. It wasn't enough.

"Please, please, Don," she begged, completely lost in her submission.

"Since you asked nicely," Don responded, rocking against her, moving further into her with each forward motion. She threw her head back, and tried to meet his thrusts, but she had no leverage. Unable to control the pace or the depth, she groaned as he moved too slowly for her taste.

"Please," she gasped. He knew what she was asking for, because his next thrust was harder. The speed increased, and Ash started to feel the pressure coiling low in her abdomen. The pain was forgotten, overshadowed as the pleasure took over. Don suddenly slammed into her with real force and only his steadying hand and the cuffs around her wrists kept Ash on her feet.

Ash clung to the chains, unable to keep any sort of balance as Don increased the pace. "Don, I'm going to ..."

"Yes," he snarled in her ear. His free hand snaked around and caught the chain between her breasts and he tugged sharply. Ash shrieked as the pain ripped through her, triggering an intense orgasm. She cried out again as the clips were released and blood flowed back into her nipples. Gasping and sobbing, she hung weakly in the chains as Don held her tightly to his plastron, his motions more gentle now as she rode out her release.

Coming back to herself a bit, she squeezed, using hidden muscles to clamp down on him. His cock jerked within her, and she felt his fingers dig into her flesh as he found his own completion.

Finished, he wrapped an arm firmly around her middle for support. Don reached up and undid each of the cuffs. Ash brought her arms down gingerly. Her shoulders and arms ached deliciously, and she was wobbling on her rubber legs. She felt his cock slip out as he stepped back and moved to her side. He slipped an arm under her shoulders, and walked her carefully over to the bed. He eased her down to sit on the mattress and she winced as new muscles awoke to indicate their abuse.

"What do you say?" Don asked, picking up a small towel from the bedside table. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, and then used the towel to clean off his cock.

"Thank you, Master Don," she replied, giving him a tired, but cheeky grin.

"Difficult," he chastised, shaking his head in mock sadness. He dropped the towel on the floor. "Always so stubborn and difficult. What am I going to do with you, Ash?"

She yawned, and stretched out on the quilt. She would have taken off her ruined clothes, except that she was too exhausted to move. "You’ll think of something. You always do."

Don sat down on the edge of the bed, and brushed her tangled hair out of her face. "Happy anniversary, Ash," he said, smiling at her sleepy and satisfied expression.

"Two years," she sighed, as Don caressed her cheek. "Love you, my mad scientist."

Don bent down and pressed a soft kiss to her mouth as her eyes slipped closed. "Love you, too, Ash."

Finis.
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Edge