by Sky Corgan
A soft sigh leaves my throat as some of the pressure is taken off of my chest. I impale myself on his dick willingly, now able to take his full length into my mouth without even a fraction as much effort as I used when I had the brace on. He fills my mouth completely, and I moan in approval, happy to finally be able to orally stimulate him the way I wanted to.
My enjoyment is short lived though. He places his hand on my head and forces me to sit lower, which makes the chain resting at the base of his shaft tighten on my nipples. Soon, I'm crying out around his cock, and he's moaning in ecstasy. We're like the yin and yang of pleasure and pain. What I'm giving to him, he's taking from me.
“I didn't say you could stop sucking.” His hand leaves my head, and he assumes parade rest again, allowing me to rise enough to sooth the pressure on my abused nipples. I can feel my pulse in them right now. I never even knew it was possible to feel your pulse in your nipples.
Trent allows me a few moments to blow him as I see fit. My focus is more on avoiding my own pain than anything else though. With the chain looped over the base of his dick, I have to be extremely careful with how I move my head. He quickly grows tired of my apprehension and brings his hand back around to assist, bunching my hair up behind my head and holding it in place.
“How about you try deep throating me again?”
I can tell by the tone of his voice that it's not a suggestion. He's going to angle me to where the chain pulls on my nipples. It's rather apparent that it gets him off to see me in pain. This is what he warned me about. This is why he told me I shouldn't come down here with him.
As predicted, the second my mouth is on him, he's pushing me down beyond my limits again. The feeling of my gag reflex triggering accompanied by the blinding pain from the pressure of the nipple clamps has me feeling overwhelmed. He doesn't let up either, fucking my face until I'm all whimpers and shallow breaths around his cock.
“Are you enjoying the little bites of pleasure and pain?” His fingers slip from my hair as he gives over control again, and I try to straighten myself so that the chain isn't pulling so hard. “I asked you a question,” he warns.
The answer is that I'm not sure. What comes out of my mouth, however, is, “Yes, Sir.”
I pick up where I left off, trying to redirect my attention to pleasuring him instead of to the pain radiating through my chest. He has other plans though. As I continue to suck, he goes up on his tiptoes, and thanks to the restraints holding me in place, there's a limit to how much I can follow. The chain tightens, and the fine line I've been teetering on that borders unbearable pain is crossed. I pull off of his cock just in time to scream.
In an instant, the pressure is gone. He's kneeling in front of me taking the clamps off of my nipples, which only makes me hiss as blood rushes back to them. “I told you I'd make you scream.” It's not the kind of screaming I had been hoping for. My image of that moment was with him between my legs, bucking until my body couldn't take it anymore. “Close your eyes.”
I do as I'm told, praying we'll shift back to pleasure. My body jerks a bit as I feel his fingers on my skin, brushing my hair over my shoulder. He laughs shortly from my fear. Maybe he gets off to that too.
“I bet they're sensitive now.” He gropes one of my breasts. They are sensitive, but not anywhere near as bad as when the clamps were on them. “Does that hurt?”
“A little, Sir.” I whimper as he squeezes a bit too hard.
He rubs and kneads my breasts, his face so close to mine that I can feel his breath on my cheek. I know he's watching me again, soaking in every little reaction that I give him. It's clear to me at this point that he's a very visual guy, possibly more interested in what he's doing to me emotionally than physically.
After a few minutes, he grips my jaw and turns my face toward him. “Are you ready for me to fuck you?”
“Yes, Sir.” More than ready. Been ready. The foreplay was nice, but this is what I've truly been waiting for.
He leans in to give me a chaste kiss on the lips, another sweet reward. I don't think he understands how much his kisses mean to me. It seems like he's so sparing with them. That makes the simple affection all the more special.
Trent stands and gazes down at me. Then his eyes dart across the room, and for a moment, I worry he's looking at the duffle bag again. It makes me think about what other instruments of torture he might have in there. “Did you peek beneath the sheet when I was gone?”
The question catches me off guard. Panic races through me as I wonder if he has cameras set up in the basement. If I lie to him, will he know? It wouldn't exactly be lying. I didn't really see anything. He came back before I had a chance.
“No, Sir.”
“You weren't at all curious about what was under there?” He eyes me suspiciously.
“I was, Sir. Just a little. I didn't want to look though, because I thought you would get mad at me.”
“You would have been right.” His expression is stern. “Do you want to know what's under the sheet?”
“Yes, Sir,” I reply hesitantly.
“Good, because you're about to find out.”
CHAPTER SIX
Out of the frying pan and into the fire. The mobility I gained when I was kneeling on the floor sucking Trent's dick is completely stripped away when he pulls out the piece of furniture that I can only describe as...what the fuck. A mess of bars and padding and metal bondage rings. It looks like a modified bench press built with BDSM in mind.
I don't even have a clue how the thing works until Trent gives me instructions on how to get in it. Before I know it, I'm laying on my stomach with my hands bound beneath me and my legs spread and secured in place. It's like an effortless doggy style. My body is in the position, but all the weight is on my chest and knees. Oh, and he put the ball gag back on me, which kind of sucks. I can't help but wonder what I'm about to be in for.
Now I'm completely at his mercy again, bound and confused and horny. He goes back to his duffle bag of doom, but when he returns, the item in his hand arouses me more than it frightens me. It's a vibrator, and not one of those cheap crappy ones. I'm admittedly surprised that he has a Hitachi magic wand in his arsenal. When he plugs it in, and I hear the familiar humming, it's like music to my ears, and my body instantly responds, heating up with anticipation.
I moan shamelessly as he traces my folds with the head of the massager, sending teasing vibrations to my clit that feel amazing but aren't quite strong enough to send me over the edge. It's a good prelude to the earth-shattering orgasm that I'm sure I'll be having soon.
He moves behind me so that he has a good view of my pussy. Then I feel the toy whisper across the seam of my sex again before he starts searching for the spot that will drive me overboard. His usage of the toy is a lot more aggressive this time. He presses it firmly against my clit until I'm crying out from overwhelming pleasure, though he never leaves it there for more than a few seconds, knowing that I won't last long. I'm so damned wanton that when he pulls it away, I arch my hips back, searching for it.
“Stop moving,” he tells me, and I acquiesce, trying my best to stay stable as he continues to tease my clit. The vibrations are absolutely delicious, and it won't be long before I can't handle anymore. Just before I'm on the brink, he withdraws from me. “You know what, I think I'd rather feel you come all over my hand again.”
His fingers press between my legs, zeroing in on my clit, and it only takes a few skillful strokes before my body gives in to him completely. My climax comes on so rapidly that I don't even have time to warn him. I simply shatter, moaning and gasping and feeling myself unravel from his touch.
“I think you're ready for a bit more.” He slides his index finger inside of me, and my body reflexively clamps around it, though I quickly relax when I realize what he's doing. “Your body is nice and tight. I can't wait to put my cock inside of you.”
“I can't wait either, Sir,” I groan shamelessly around the ball gag.
He adds another
finger next to the first, spreading me even wider before he begins probing in and out of me. Surprisingly, his movements are slow and gentle.
For being bound to the point that I can't move anything but my hips, I'm actually enjoying this. Not having to do any work. Just laying there and feeling him pleasure me.
“Does it feel good?” he asks, his voice strangely intimate sounding.
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper.
“Do you think you can handle my cock inside of you?”
“Yes, Sir.” There's no question in my mind about that. The thought of having his dick in me is the ultimate grand finale, as far as I'm concerned.
He pulls his fingers out, and I lay there and breathe softly as I listen to a foil packet tearing. A content grin spreads across my lips as I realize he's putting on a condom. I'm finally going to get what I came here for.
The first thing I feel is his hand on my ass, his thumb dipping down closer to my sex to pull my lips apart as his glans presses against me. My entire body tenses when he bucks his hips forward to fill me, and I let out a soft moan of complete unadulterated satisfaction. He's inside of me. The moment I've been waiting for for what feels like forever has finally happened.
He stills briefly, and I hear the rustling of clothing. When I look back at him, he's removed the muscle shirt, shed the last bit of fabric that left anything to the imagination. He's every bit as cut and beautiful as I thought he would be. Tan and perfect and... “Ahhh, oh God.” He presses deeply into me, and I rest my cheek on the padded bench in front of me and drool a little. It feels better than I could have fathomed.
Trent puts his foot up on the bench next to my stomach and angles his hips for depth, but he doesn't pound into me. Instead, he moves slowly, so that I can feel every inch of him. So that he can feel every inch of me.
He presses himself balls deep and holds himself there before he picks up the pace with short thrusts. It's incredibly intense, like he's occupying all the space inside of me. Never before have I felt this full. My body is absolutely intoxicated by it, the way he doesn't let up, not even for a moment.
All I can do is lay there and moan and cry out with the delicious surges of biting pain that I feel. I try to imagine what we look like from behind. No space between us. His cock completely engulfed by my warm wetness.
Trent crawls up on top of me, and the pressure grows even more intense from the angle at which he's penetrating me. It's almost more than I can handle. The guy definitely knows how to use his dick for both pleasure and pain. He's all about pleasure and pain, a fine mix that pushes me towards sexual oblivion.
Tears roll down my face as he takes a fistful of my hair and pulls my head back. He slips his other hand beneath my throat, and I can feel his breath on my cheek as he pumps into me. The friction of his cock makes my cunt feel incredibly hot.
“Does it hurt?” he purrs sadistically into my ear.
“Yes, Sir.” It does hurt, but I like it. I definitely won't be walking straight tomorrow. I haven't been able to say that about a sexual encounter since I was a virgin.
“Good,” he whispers, slowing down to tease me with leisurely thrusts that are far more pleasurable than painful.
Even though he seems to enjoy hurting me, I've noticed that he backs off immediately if things get to be more than I can handle. Not completely, but at least enough to make it bearable. That means he's not a complete heartless asshole. It means that he cares, even if he's trying to pretend like he doesn't.
He lets go of my hair and climbs off of me, moving back behind me to get between my legs. When he slides his cock inside of me this time, the mood has changed. I cry out from an unexpected slap to my ass. Then he grips my hips and takes my breath away by beating into me so quickly that we're both all moans and panting. The friction that builds between my thighs is exquisite. For all the slow torture he bestowed on me earlier, this is all about the release.
We climb up that hill together. Higher. Higher. Higher. Surely, he knows he's driving me insane. Hopefully, this isn't just another tease. As if to answer my question, he says, “I want you to come all over my dick.”
All it takes is that extra bit of verbal stimulation to send me over the edge. “I'm coming,” I practically scream.
He doesn't reply. He simply continues drilling into me. The room is filled with pleasure cries and the sound of skin slapping together and the scent of sex. I dig my teeth into the ball gag as he ravages my cunt until the last of my contractions have wrecked me. Then he slams into me a final time before stilling, pushing himself so deep, deep like he was before. He lets out a series of grunts, and then it's over.
I lay there with my eyes closed, catching my breath. Exhausted isn't even the right word for how I feel. He was everything I'd hoped he'd be plus more in the pleasure department, though I admittedly would have preferred things gone a bit differently. The BDSM stuff was kinky, but a little too intense at times. And I'd give anything to have been able to see his face while we were having sex. I was denied the pleasure of seeing what he looks like when he comes. I just got to feel it, which I suppose is better than the alternative—not getting to have sex with him at all.
As soon as he's regained his composure and pulled out of me, he takes off my ball gag and begins unfastening my bondage. I don't move, wondering what happens next. This entire time, I've been completely out of my element, but I think I adapted well. I've always been good at adjusting to different situations and dealing with various personality types.
When I'm completely unbound, he goes to put his pants back on. I frown as I watch him. Now he's probably going to kick me out. After what I just experienced with him, it's not hard to come to the conclusion that he's one of those kinds of guys.
“May I get dressed now, Sir?” I ask timidly.
He turns to me with a soft smile. “No. Not yet. Come upstairs with me.”
Apprehensively, I pull myself off of the bench and follow him up the stairs, glancing back at my pile of clothing before we disappear out the door. For as much as I loved having sex with him, I hope he doesn't want a round two unless it's going to be in his bed, and I don't have to do any work. I'm way too tired for much of anything else. It's amazing how sex can wear you out so completely.
When we get upstairs, he takes me into the living room and sits down on the sofa. I try not to stare too lecherously at his gorgeous broad chest. The thought dons on me that I never actually got to touch him. Not really. It's a bit disappointing.
“Sit.” He pats his lap. A much better seat than the sofa.
I try not to seem too giddy as I lower myself onto him and lean against his chest. He's so warm, and although we both smell like sex, I can still catch the scent of his cologne, and it's rather soothing. Now I'm in my happy place.
“Are you alright?” he whispers softly into my ear before nuzzling my cheek with the bridge of his nose.
“Mhm.” I nod absentmindedly, quickly falling into the unexpected cuddlefest.
His hand reaches up and sweeps down my chest before he gropes one of my breasts and kneads it. Looks like there might be a round too after all. While I was dreading it a moment ago, my body has already warmed up to him again. I don't want to go back downstairs though. I want to stay right here, warm in his arms, feeling this affection from him.
A soft moan escapes my lips, and I crane my head slightly to look at him, trying to entice him to kiss me. His eyes are hooded, but there's no lust behind them. He lets his hand fall to his lap before wrapping his other arm around my waist to better support me. “Was that too intense for you?”
“Sometimes,” I admit, thinking of the nipple clamps and the intense pain they caused when he looped the chain over his cock and pressed my head down until they pulled.
“Did you enjoy it at all?”
“I did. I had several orgasms.” I rest my head on his shoulder. It's strange to see him so insecure all of a sudden. There wasn't even a trace of this side of him downstairs.
“I'm glad.” He
brushes my hair aside and kisses my forehead. “I know I hurt you. I know it wasn't all pleasant.”
“I'm not sure what I was expecting,” I confess. It wasn't that though. Maybe an incredibly hard dicking, which he did end up giving me, but not that.
“I don't get off any other way.” His body tenses. He inhales a short breath before saying, “You won't tell anyone about this.”
“I won't.” I bite my bottom lip. It was a demand, not a request. There's darkness in his voice—warning.
“You should go.” He gives my hip a soft slap to get me moving. I stand, expecting him to follow me downstairs. Instead, he just sits there, looking up at me coldly. “It's time for you to take the walk of shame.”
His words slice through me. No man has ever said anything so bluntly horrible to me right after sex. It's like the sweet guy I was just cuddling with completely melted away and left an ungodly asshole in his place.
I know that the smart thing to do is to ignore the comment and walk away. The truth of the matter is that I came here for sex. There's no love between us. He doesn't owe me anything. I can't leave knowing he debased me like that though.
“So I guess that means that sleeping with you is shameful.” I don't bother trying to hide the displeasure from my expression.
Trent stands, and I don't back down. He's trying to intimidate me. I expect him to say something nasty in return. Instead, he steps around me, pausing when he's at my side. “Perhaps it is.”
CHAPTER SEVEN