by Naomi West
Because, as I sucked on his cock, as he pistoned his manhood in and out of my lips and made me gag till tears streamed down my cheeks, I realized that, yes, he was angry. But he didn’t hate me, not like I’d feared. He wanted to torture me, sure, but he also wanted to pleasure me like no man ever had. To open me up till I was like a raw nerve capable of experiencing only pleasure. This was payback, albeit a very bizarre form of it.
Not that I was complaining, even as the tears continued to roll down my cheeks, and his hot, hard length continued to push to the back of my throat. I looked up, loving the way his eyes were half-closed as he plundered my mouth as I kept . . . servicing him. I wanted him to cum for me, I realized, wanted to pull every drop from his body, to savor it for my own.
“Good girl,” he groaned, his fingers tightening painfully in my curls. “You’re taking that like a champ. How about now?” He turned the vibrator back to a higher setting.
I screamed around his cock, and I could feel his meat vibrating as I cried out one of the most powerful orgasms I’d ever experienced. My body seemed to dissolve into a puddle of sensations, the pleasure swimming through my veins and every fiber of my being. But I wanted more. I didn’t want this to stop.
He turned the vibrator back to a lower setting, but continued to fuck my mouth, his girth stretching my mouth to its limits.
I locked my lips around him and tongued the underside as he slid past my lips and back again. And then I felt it, felt his hips pick up speed, felt him being to seemingly grow in my mouth.
“Such a good slut,” he panted, grabbing my hair tighter, thrusting faster into my now more than willing mouth. “Such a good girl, taking it all.”
I wanted him, wanted to drain him of every drop possible. No other woman, I realized, should have this privilege; this right that belonged only to me. Maybe it was just the endorphins from the pain on my backside talking, or the adrenaline from being stripped and tied to this cruel device, but I wanted him like I’d never wanted another man. This cock in my mouth was mine from here on out, no matter what.
I felt him begin to pulse, to grow, and I began to suck. With a guttural moan of pure manly release, he exploded in my mouth, his seed flowing over my tongue.
I wanted him desperately, and here, I had him. My eyes turned up to watch his twisting, scrunching face. I swallowed him down like it was the most natural thing in the world. God, even the way he looked as he came was somehow sexy. His eyes tightly squeezed, his lips turned down, his teeth clenched as he tried not to show his emotions by gasping out.
Sensitive and panting, he pulled himself from my mouth and stuffed himself back in his slacks.
“Please, sir,” I said. “Please, I wasn’t finished.”
He half-smiled, but didn’t answer. He stroked my hair. “You’re turning into a good little girl, aren’t you?”
I bit my lips and batted my eyelashes, nodding. “Yes, sir. Anything you want.”
He just flicked the remote vibrator to its highest setting yet and walked away.
My pussy and my abs, all my muscles, in fact, contracted like I’d just slipped a live wire deep inside me. I fought against my bonds by instinct, my whole body tensing as I screamed out in unexpected pleasure, rocking back and forth on my knees as I thrust my hips back into the air. “Oh, sir!” I screamed. “Oh! Oh God!”
I didn’t know how long he left me like that, writhing in pleasure on the bench. Time seemed to stretch, to become a long, thin stretch of thread that went from here to eternity that I couldn’t walk if I tried. Instead, I fell off the thread into a dark abyss, one where only the pleasure of my body seemed to have any hold. My vision went dark; my mind went blank. The only thing that existed was the blackness around me, and the white heat within me, pulsing through me.
And then, suddenly, it stopped the immediate stimulating pleasure getting turned off like a light, leaving behind only the after effects, the rolling waves of insanity-causing rapture. My body continued to shake, and I felt the dampness on the inside of my thighs as I continued to drip and shudder in ecstasy.
He took the remove vibrator from within me and unlocked first one ankle cuff from the table, then the other, but kept the leather manacles still attached.
Clearly, we weren’t done yet. I didn’t know how much longer I could handle, but some part deep down inside of me wanted to find out. Wanted to push itself to the limit of pleasure, of experience.
Ford slipped an arm beneath my waist, picked me up from the bench like I was just a feather, and set me down on my wobbling legs. He steadied me with a hand on my shoulder, his lips just at my ear as he stroked a hand up and down my lower back, my ass. “You like being punished like this, don’t you?”
I didn’t say anything, just nodded.
“I needed to show you I was serious about punishing you for what you did,” he explained, his blunted nails trailing up and down my back. “I know Williams probably has cameras down here, but I bet he wants to see more.”
I nodded again. “Yes, sir, I understand.” As the whispered words left my mouth, I realized I was still keeping up the act even when I knew it was all just part of the show. Something inside me, though, wanted to keep it going. I yearned to be punished by Ford, especially for taking the ring.
“Good girl,” he said, squeezing my ass lightly. He reached up and, just like before, took hold of the collar circle at my throat and led me over to another spot in the room, a spot with just a low hanging chain. “Turn around.”
I obediently turned, feeling him take hold of the chain connecting my wrists. He pulled them up behind me, connecting them to the chain hanging from the ceiling.
To keep myself comfortable and able to breathe normally, I had to push my shoulders back like before, but I also had to keep them raised behind my back. The only problem was that my arms were exhausted. I found though, that if I leaned forward and stuck my ass out, I could manage it.
He came around in front and hooked his fingers in the waistband of my sopping, drenched panties. He pulled them down over my legs without saying a word and kissed my hip bones as he stooped down to pull them over my heels.
I shivered a little at the sudden moment of tenderness. I knew it would be the last I’d feel for a while, and my mind and heart seemed to latch onto it.
Ford left me there and went back over to the wall of toys and devices. He picked out a long metal rod, and my heart stopped. It shone cruelly in the dim light, its chrome features reflecting what little illumination there was.
Oh, shit. This escalated.
He came back over and must have seen my trembling lower lip or the frightened look in my eyes. He glanced down at the bar in his hands, a small smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. “This is a spreader bar. For your feet.”
I sighed in relief as he bent down in front of me and ordered me to readjust my stance. I spread my legs wider for him, and he attached the bar to both ankle cuffs he’d left on from the bench just moments ago. With him still kneeling in front of me, I gave into the urge to test my bonds, and realized I could move my legs a little, but there was certainly no way to close them. I groaned, knowing I was fully at his disposal.
He smiled a little, sliding his hand up and down the inside of my thigh. “Just like it should be,” he growled, his nails scratching across my skin. He rose to his feet. “Do you like this, slut? Do you like knowing I’m going to have all of you now?” As he spoke, his hand slipped back down between my legs and found my still-dripping pussy, beginning to play with my lips and clit. The other stroked my breast lightly, tracing the areola of first one breast, then the other.
As he stroked me and teased me, I bit my lip and nodded. “Yes, sir,” I groaned, my hips grinding against his hand, my back shoving my breast into his palm.
“Good,” he growled, taking his hands away. He walked away again, leaving me whimpering, and went back to the wall. My eyes followed his every move as he picked out an array of new devices and brought them back, went around behind m
e, and set them on a small nearby table.
He came back around, a thin and lightweight metal chain dangling from one hand. Two clips were attached to it. He held it up in front of me. “Do you know what these are?” he asked.
Timidly, I shook my head. “No, sir.”
He arranged them in hand, opened one of the clips. “Nipple clamps.”
My eyes went wide in surprise, but he just smiled and stroked a hand down my cheek. “Do you want to be a good girl? Or a bad girl? Because bad girls get the lash again.”
I groaned. “Good girl, sir.”
“That’s what I thought,” he said, attaching the clamp to my nipple.
I screamed as it latched down on my erect, hypersensitive tit. It was like the worst pain I’d ever experienced, at first, and I had to bite my lip to quiet my screams down to a whimper. Soon, it went from sharp and excruciating, to a dull, throbbing pain unlike anything I’d ever quite imagined. A tactile, sensuous pain that seemed to have a life of its own.
And then he attached the second one, heightening the feeling.
I didn’t scream out on this one, just sucked in a sharp breath, my knees weakening a little. “Oh God, sir. Oh God, that’s just . . .” I trailed off, not knowing how to speak the words to him.
“Wonderful?” he asked, before lightly tugging the chain he still held, making my nipples scream, and myself whimper, in renewed sweet agony.
I cried out again, and he let the chain drop to my chest, circling back around behind me. I lay my head back, gasping for breath. Soon, he returned, the leather strap from before now in hand. I sucked in a breath, in anticipation.
Without warning, he lightly struck the inside of my thighs, sending a bright light of pain through my mind that seemed to intertwine with the pain from the clamps. Then, I felt a cool liquid squirt onto my ass.
My eyes went wide. “Ford?” I bit my lip just as the word leaped from my mouth, realizing I hadn’t addressed him properly.
He cracked my ass hard with the lash, and I let loose a muffled groan. “What did I tell you? You broke rule one—” he struck my ass with the lash again, “—and two.” The second time, he got me good, and I knew I’d feel it in the morning.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I whimpered.
“Good, slut,” he growled and began working the cool, slippery liquid up and down the crack of my ass. “Good. You should be.”
“Please, sir, I don’t want—”
“Have you tried it before?”
I shook my head. “N-n-no, sir. But, it just seems so . . .”
“Dirty? Naughty? Not what a good girl from a small town should enjoy?” As he peppered me with his questions, his hands slid over my ass and pussy, rubbing my clit as the cool lubricant mixed with my own sopping juices.
I groaned involuntarily, pushing my hand back into him. “Please, sir,” I begged. “Will you please fuck me?”
“You want me to slide my cock into you? Is that what you want?”
I nodded enthusiastically, the movement sending a new set of wonderful pain through my arms as I pushed back into his. “Oh,” I moaned, “yes, sir. Please.”
“Then tell me.”
“I want your cock in me, sir,” I whimpered. “I need it, please.” God, did I need it, too. There was nothing else I could think of at the moment. Not running to LA, not being a star, nothing.
I heard the distinct sound of the zipper of his slacks again and felt the heat of his hot flesh as it pressed against my gaping, aroused lips. He began to trace the massive head up and down my sex, teasing me.
I groaned low, deep in my throat and chest. This was what I needed. This right here. I pushed back against him, trying to swallow him, but he held my hips in place.
“Eager, aren’t you?”
I nodded, straining my arms again.
“Good,” he said, almost sighing, and slipped the whole of his cock into me. There was no easing, no stretching. He just sheathed himself entirely within me in one go. I was so dripping wet I took him with ease, his cock sliding all the way into me till the little zipper tab and the cloth of his slacks pressed against my naked body.
The pleasure was so intense, especially when combined with the constant pain from the clamps, from the restraints and the awkward stress positions. I screamed, trying to give myself a little relief, screamed in a gurgling, keening wail as Ford put his hands on my hips and began to fuck me hard.
He held me up, his fingers pressed hard into my hips, hard enough that there’d be bruised indentations in the morning. My legs were so wobbly, my thighs so sore, I would have dropped if he hadn’t held me up like that. He used my pussy, used my body. I felt like a toy in his hands, a piece of sex that he literally had tied up in the basement. And all of it on camera.
It felt so dirty. So wrong. So awful. But so very wonderful. My whole body arched as I threw back my head as far as I could and, pushed back into him, matching each and every one of his powerful, teeth-clicking strokes.
He slapped my ass hard with his bare hand, and I felt another orgasm roiling through my body like a wave from the depths, pushing its way to the surface, dragging me onto the shore and throwing me onto the rocks.
I screamed, my body crying out with more than just my voice, my insides twisting, every cell of my body feeling like it was about to explode as another orgasm crashed to the shore right behind the first.
I was dripping down my thighs, screaming Ford’s name, panting and yelling like a dirty whore. And then he did it; he pushed the finger into my lubed backside.
God, it felt wonderful, especially with his cock buried to the hilt inside me. I realized as he did it that I’d never let a man touch me there before, not because I didn’t want to try it, but because I didn’t trust them. Something about Ford, though, with his strong hands on my hips, with the corrective pain he was giving me, it just felt right to submit to him. To allow him this little extra bit of control.
“Sir?” I groaned. “Don’t stop.”
I realized then, that it wasn’t a finger. It was something else. He slowed his hips, stroked my back, and eased whatever it was deeper inside me. “Just relax,” he said, his fingers trailing up and down my back. “Just relax, Micah.”
I tried to follow his advice, to do what I was told.
It kept coming, kept stretching me around it. It went deeper, stretched me wider, filled me more completely than I’d ever even imagined possible.
I groaned low, the pain and wonderful sense of fullness so intense combined with Ford’s rock hard member still buried inside me. I breathed deep, flexed myself around my master, and tightened my hold on him.
He slid it deeper, stretching me more fully.
I panted, gasping and moaning as I tightened around his member again, feeling every vein, every ridge of his manhood. I came again, screaming out, my back arching violently, my fingers desperately stretched as they searched for him.
He began to fuck me then, as hard as before. Somehow, each of the movements allowed the plug in me to push out, and he would push it back in with each thrust. He reached around me, his hand snaking up again to my throat, his thumb and fingers closing over the sides of my neck. Ford fucked me hard and fast, grunting as I pushed back into him with my wobbly knees, the world darkening the more he squeezed.
I was a toy for him, then, and I knew it. I cried out again, my orgasm still going. I’d never felt so completely used, or so cherished. It was contradictory, I knew, but I realized I could hold both feelings in my heart at the same time. I screamed again, my sex spasming around Ford’s cock.
“Cum inside me, sir!” I gasped, begging, gagging in the darkness as his hand kept its grip on my throat. “Please, sir, please.”
He picked up his pace, his length slamming into me as deep as it could, the dildo in my ass stretching me even wider till I felt like a gaping slave of a woman. He dropped his hand from my throat and pulled lightly at the chain connecting the clamps on my nipples.
I screamed at the sudden pain
, marveling at how it pushed me further into the deep blue of pure pleasure. I was in orbit suddenly, drifting over our entwined, tied up, bodies, watching as he, still fully dressed, plowed from behind into me, naked except for my heels.
Soon, his whole body tensed, and I could feel his cock seem to grow again, to fill me even more fully. And then he exploded, his cock filling me with his seed.
I cried out again, my legs shaking as he drained himself inside me, grinding myself on his length, milking him.
He gasped for air as he continued to pump into me, his cock slowly going soft. Each thrust was slower than the last, and I knew he was savoring the feel of my velvet glove. And, as he pulled himself from me and took the toy from my ass, I knew I’d never be the same.
The emptiness, the absence, was as equally intense as the fullness had been. Where there had been heat and pleasure, now there was want and need. There was no other man for me after Ford. No other way I could possibly sleep with someone else and have it be this amazing. Though I’d turned down the leash earlier, I knew I’d allowed him to metaphorically put one on me anyway.