by Golden Angel
“I have a surprise for you, love.”
Movement, which she could hear but not immediately interpret. Then something hard closed around her nipple, pinched as tightly as his fingers ever did… and held. Tighter than any of the clips he’d used on her before. The pressure was intense, painful, and yet fed the ache of her arousal, the height of her pleasure. The process was repeated on the other nipple, making her gasp and writhe at the twin bites of pain, the exquisite agony that left her shuddering and wanting to beg for the pressure to be released. Something light but hard rested along the underside of each breast, attached to whatever was tormenting her nipples.
“What are they?” she asked, shuddering as Benedict’s fingers glided over the tip of each trapped bud. The sensation was shockingly intense, startlingly pleasurable against the backdrop of sexual pain and excitement.
“Stop thinking,” he said, rather than answering her question. Hands lifted her up and turned her over, settling her on her knees and forearms so that her breasts hung low beneath her. Whatever was on her nipples tugged as gravity pulled at them, like weights, sending another hot flash of pain and pleasure through her. “Just feel.”
Fingers traced down her spine, into the cleft between her buttocks and over her tiny rosebud. Christina shuddered, the little hole automatically clenching as he teased it. The pad of his finger rubbed, sensation tingling outward from the small, sensitive star, her pussy pulsing beneath.
His finger moved away, hands pressing open her bottom cheeks, and he licked her there. She cried out in shock. It was a hot, sensual assault, a height of depravity she’d never dreamed of, and it felt so wickedly good. Her body jerked in response, making her breasts sway, her nipples tugging and sparking with pain at the movement.
Pressing her face against the mattress, she moaned, shuddering, losing herself in the perverted sensations as Benedict’s tongue probed her forbidden hole, his hands kneading her bottom all the while. She desperately wanted his touch a few inches lower, and yet she didn’t want him to stop what he was doing either.
When he did pull away, she mewled in disappointment, her bottom wagging as cool air drifted over the wet little hole. Was this it? Was he going to plunge his cock into that dark aperture, the way she knew he desperately wanted to?
A sharp pinch on the left lip of her pussy, shocking in its unexpectedness and the harsh bite, made her cry out with shock and pain. Immediately, a matching pinch followed on her right pussy lip. It hurt, but it felt good too as her pussy swelled in response. Fire lanced through her. More pinches followed and her body was caught somewhere between heaven and hell, so she didn’t even know any more if she was experiencing pain or pleasure.
******
The new spring-clothespins were everything Benedict had hoped for and more. He’d first heard of their possible use in the bedroom from a friend, the Earl of Spencer who had a reputation as an utterly depraved rake. The man had reformed in some respects - his proclivities were now confined to his wife - but he was still quite open among his friends about new inventions which could be used in bedroom sport.
The springs allowed him to tightly clamp the rosy buds of her nipples without completely crushing them. The light wood, tightly gripping those darkening pink tips, looked sinful. Even more so, the darkening pink of her swelling pussy lips as he lined the outer lips with clamps, starting from the back of her pussy near her glossy anus and moving towards the front where her clit was poking through her damp curls.
He left a little space between each pin on her lips, allowing her darkening flesh to swell between them. With each one placed, he swore he could see her clit actually grow a little more. Between her folds, her cream was flowing freely, turning her pink petals glossy as the sweet scent of her musk wafted through the air.
Speech seemed to have deserted her as he tormented her succulent, sensitive flesh; the unholy noises she made were completely incoherent, soft ululations, whimpers, and sharper cries as he practiced his sadistic urges on her submissive form. Every sobbing sound wrung from her sent another surge of blood flowing to his cock, which was rampantly hard again, eager to plunge into her decorated pussy.
When he reached her clit, she finally used real words again as he positioned the clothespin on the little bud and very, very slowly began to let it clamp down.
“No! Oh god… Benedict… nooooo… please… I can’t take it… I can’t… I can’t…. ooooAAAAHHH!”
Her shrill scream as the clothespin finally pinched closed around her sensitive organ was caught somewhere between ecstasy and anguish. She sobbed, she shuddered, and she was nearly insensate, caught right on the edge of orgasm but too wracked with the pain of having that tiny bundle of sensations so tightly gripped.
Benedict loved to draw out his sensual torture, to wind her tighter and tighter until she exploded. What he’d done in the carriage, while enjoyable, hadn’t been quite enough for him. This was infinitely more satisfying. Reducing her to a quivering, submissive mass of need, completely vulnerable to him, completely under his control, satiated the dark need which had gripped him tonight as he’d watched her dance with man after man.
Tomorrow, no matter whom else she spoke with, whom she danced with, she would feel the after effects of tonight - the imprint of Benedict upon her body.
As she struggled with the sensations coursing through her, shivering and shuddering, tugging at her bound wrists, Benedict took the opportunity to swiftly divest himself of the rest of his clothing and take out the next box of surprises from his nightstand. A small vial of olive oil and a box of Dr. Young’s Rectal Dilators were something he’d been holding onto for a while. While they were intended to be used medically, he knew he wasn’t the only gentleman to have other designs for them.
After using her hairbrush to prod that tender orifice, and her amorous response to it, he’d decided it was time to move beyond his fingers to the dilators. The sturdy rubber bullets came in four different sizes, the largest of which was just as wide in girth as his cock, although it was an inch or so shorter. Picking up the smallest, which was about the size of her hairbrush handle, Benedict spread the oil over its hard surface, watching Christina as her shivers slowed, her whimpers quieting. She had adjusted to the grip of the clothespins, even that most devilish one, although her panting breath indicated she was by no means entirely sanguine about it.
When he pressed the cool, slick tip of the dilator to her anus, her body jerked, and she cried out as all the clothespins wobbled, tugging at her flesh.
“Hold still, love,” he said, practically crooning the words, enjoying watching her struggling with all the sensations assaulting her. “The more you move, the more they’ll pull.”
She moaned, low and almost mournful as he pressed the dilator in a little before drawing it back, working the rubber bullet in a little deeper with each insertion. The tiny opening stretched, and she quivered with the effort not to pull away nor to move towards it. Watching the prod slowly disappearing into her virgin hole, Benedict’s cock throbbed, imagining the slick tightness, the incredible heat.
Her pussy glistened wetly, the curls soaked, her lips nearly red now as the flesh bulged between the clothespins lining her slit. Benedict firmly pressed the dilator into her anus completely. The bullet curved in just before flaring out again at the base, keeping her body from swallowing the dilator whole, and the flange now rested between her slightly pinked cheeks, its black base a stark contrast to her creamy skin and juicy, reddened pussy.
Moving quickly, he began to open and remove the clothespins clinging to her lips. Starting from those nearest her anus, he tossed them to the floor, out of the bed and out of the way now they were no longer needed. The compressed flesh began to swell, the indents puffing out, and Christina let out another strangled cry as he neared the one on her clit. From his own experiments, Benedict knew the tingling sensation as blood returned to pinched areas could be quite intense… he could only imagine how it would feel on Christina’s most sensitive areas.
******
She was lost in a maelstrom of pain, so close to climax she could practically taste it on her tongue, and yet she hurt… oh god, she hurt. Her pussy was on fire - not immediately as each pinching thing was removed, but a few moments later every area she expected to feel relief started to tingle and sting and burn. It felt like stinging nettles, and yet she was so fraught with arousal some part of her gloried in the torment.
When he removed the pinch on her clit, the tiny bud seemed to tremble, and then utter agony ripped through her as it came to life. She screamed, sobbed, and then screamed again as Benedict’s cock suddenly pierced her, stretching open her inner muscles, his body smacking against all the sensitive flesh he’d just tortured. The sensations were keen, sharp, and her nails dug into the sheets as she was pinned down on her knees, his hand pressing down on her lower back to hold her in place as he mounted her.
Her climax exploded without permission as he began to thrust, pain and pleasure melding together in a chaotic symphony, pounding through her with all the force of a freight train. Her entire world dwindled, focused, blackness clouding her mind - or was that still the blindfold, blocking her sight? She didn’t even know whether her eyes were open or not, she was just lost…
Lost…
Sensation ruled.
Her senses roiled, Benedict’s every movement creating havoc.
He was not gentle.
He rode her, fucked her, ravaged her.
She was so full of him she was choking on it.
The slight burn in her ass was nothing compared to that of her swollen, abused pussy, and yet the feeling of fullness - stuffed to the brim in both of her holes - held as much sway over her as the throbbing, burning, agonizingly pleasurable pulsing of her overly sensitive clit.
The thing in her ass moved, jostled, as her inner muscles squeezed. Every thrust Benedict made into her body smacked against the thing’s base, pressing it into her.
As often as he’d dominated her, as often as she’d given up her control to him, she’d never felt so submissive to him… so completely overwhelmed by him, as she did in this moment. She was entirely his, his to play with, his to conquer, his to claim. Her body throbbed, ached, and reacted to his manipulations, to his dictates, completely at his mercy.
When his hands slid beneath her to cup her breasts, knocking the clips from her tender nipples, she screamed again as another wave of orgasmic bliss rose within her, taking the pain and turning it into that secret, special ecstasy her body produced. She sobbed as he massaged her soft mounds, his hot palms searing her sensitive buds, which felt swollen to three times their size after having been so tightly crushed for so long.
Benedict withdrew and Christina started to slump… but he swiftly turned her over onto her back, her arms still over her head, her distended nipples pointing towards the sky. They burned as her breasts jiggled.
“Oh no….” She cried out as Benedict’s cock slid home again, his body pressing firmly against her, his crinkled chest hair abraded her nipples even as the stiff curls round his cock did the same to the poor, abused bud of her clit. Christina writhed, her pussy clamping around him in spasmodic response, her body arching beneath him. “Benedict… oh please… it’s too much… I can’t… I can’t…”
“Hush love, you haven’t a choice,” he said, groaning as he began to move again - more gently than he had been, but still with firm, sure strokes into her battered pussy. She let out a strangled cry as his mouth pressed against her neck, his teeth nipping at the delicate skin. The tide of her orgasm was already rising again, her body answering his assertion with ecstatic abandon rather than outrage. “Keep that dilator in your pretty ass, or I’ll have to put in the next size up.”
With his threat delivered, he began to ride her again.
She clenched down, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes at the utterly overwhelmingly intense passion running through her and the sensitivity of her body as he moved his cock powerfully within her. Trying to keep the thing - the dilator - inside her now that his every thrust no longer pressed it in forced her to keep herself tight, her muscles taut… and doing so heightened the sensations of his cock splitting her open, the hot friction of his thrusting, the quivering of her channel around him.
“Oh please…” she begged, writhing, tightening, desperately trying to keep the thing inside her. She could feel Benedict’s cock hardening, a steel spike impaling her, his body pressing against her tortured, sensitive parts. It was excruciating. “Oh please, oh please… Benedict please!”
He thrust. Pressed. His body rubbed against hers. Abraded her pussy. The pressure on her clit was immense. His hips circled. Ground against her. And white lights sparkled across her vision as her body was wracked with an all-consuming euphoria.
******
The incredible tightness of Christina’s pussy, made even tighter by the dilator filling her ass, was an assault on Benedict’s self-control. If he hadn’t already availed himself of her mouth, the intense sensations of her muscles rippling around him, holding him so snugly, might have had him spilling his seed like a callow youth.
She was a sensual goddess, an irresistible houri, writhing and sobbing with sexual ecstasy. With her red nipples and pussy lips, and the swollen red tip of her clit peeking through her folds against her creamy skin and dark curls, she was a sight to behold… the kind of sight which compelled a man to drop to his knees and worship.
And she was his. All his.
She wouldn’t allow him to inflict this manner of pain and pleasure on her bound body unless she truly trusted him.
Completely.
As Christina screamed out her orgasm, her body shuddering beneath him, pussy pulsing around him, Benedict barely had the willpower to pull himself from the hot, shuddering clasp of her willing cunt and wrap his fingers around his cock. Frothy white cum shot from his cock in long ropes, spraying her stomach and breasts, decorating her front with his cream. The sight stirred something primal in him, no matter that he desperately wanted to release inside of her. Seeing her covered in his seed…
A smile curved his lips as he also saw the black dilator, standing out starkly against the sheets between Christina’s legs. At some point, during the vigorous pounding, she’d allowed it to slide from her anus. Studying her limp form, her slowly heaving breasts with their red tips, the glisten of sweat making her skin appear pearly, Benedict decided he could probably wring one more orgasm from her this evening.
Picking up the dilator, he didn’t say anything, just stood up from the bed and went to where the box was resting on the nightstand. Christina’s head turned, following the sound of his movements even though she couldn’t see him. A dreamy smile wreathed her lips. She probably thought he was getting up to fetch a cloth to clean her with… which he would - eventually. But he rather liked the idea of taking her to the heights of ecstasy with a dilator in her ass and his cum still on her body.
A new level of depravity for them to explore.
Quickly spreading oil over the dilator the next size up, Benedict returned to the bed, between her legs. A little frown wrinkled her brow, her lips turning down, as Christina blindly turned her head towards him, her elbows bending as she pulled at the cravat tied round her wrists and to the headboard.
“Benedict?” she asked, her voice uncertain.
Between her creamy thighs, her abused pussy was vermilion, still swollen, her clit still erect and brightly colored from its torture. Benedict grinned.
“I told you to keep the dilator in your ass, love,” he said, his stern tone at odds with the expression on his face - since she couldn’t see him, he needn’t worry about hiding the physical signs of his enjoyment.
“But - oh! Oh no…” She groaned, her hips lifting slightly as the dilator pressed to her ass and began to push in. “Oh… Benedict! It feels bigger!”
“It is bigger love,” he said wickedly, pushing it in deeper. Since she was already stretched by the previous dilator, he needn’t b
e quite as gentle. Her body accepted the invader, although not comfortably. He could hear the strain in her whimpers, her tired confusion.
Very slowly, he began to fuck her ass with the dilator, inserting and withdrawing nearly the full length of the thing with every stroke. Christina moaned and arched, squirming as the artificial act of sodomy began to stimulate her. When he began to lick at her creamy pussy and she realized his full intent, she begged him to stop, swearing she couldn’t possibly climax again.
Fifteen minutes later she was begging him not to stop as he used the dilator to ream her, thrusting mercilessly, his tongue laving her swollen clit, as he proved her wrong.
Chapter 8
“Oh…” Christina whimpered as she lowered herself into her bath.
She was so tired of whimpering, but she couldn’t seem to stop.
Every muscle in her body hurt. Muscles she hadn’t known she had hurt. The carriage ride home had been acutely uncomfortable, even after Benedict had hauled her onto his lap and set about soothing her… and she’d only been half-awake at the time. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to accompany her inside - if any of her neighbors saw him dropping her at home at dawn there would have been far too much talk. As it was, no one could be sure she hadn’t just stayed out very late at Daphne’s.
Christina had dropped immediately into her bed, still completely exhausted, and slept until noon. Such a late hour wasn’t unusual for a tonnish lady, especially not after a major ball, but she rarely rose so late in the day. Today she had slept like the dead until her household finally took it upon themselves to rouse her. She was grateful, as she hated to spend the entire day abed.
Although today she almost wished she had.
She was so tender. She couldn’t move without remembering the previous night.
The sensual pain.
The perverse pleasure.
Her violent climaxes.
When Benedict had used the dilator to abuse her rear channel, suckling at her clit all the while, she’d thought she might actually die from the overload of sensations. Indeed, she eventually had - le petite mort, as the French called an orgasm. Christina had practically fainted after he’d driven her to her third orgasm of the evening.