The Cam

They had a play date on Tuesday. Because they were apart, he set up the computer for her before he left. The instructions were as explicit as the acts he demanded of her. Do this. Move like that. Press this button. Turn the cam that way. Bend over and show me.

Somehow it was all the more humiliating to be having an inspection with him via the cam, she thought. It was dehumanizing to bend and posture in front of the screen. She could hear his heavy breathing through the open mic, and knew he was pleased. And truthfully, she was soaked. She shook her head. She was such a fucking slut. And he knew just which of her ‘buttons’ to push to make her wet. Wanting. Wild. And to confirm his ownership of her.

She needed to cum so bad! The pain of her clamped nipples was racing at breakneck speed to her head, even as her cunt  pulsed with the rhythm of her dildo.  As he instructed her to ‘hammer down’ on herself, she arched, whining. Begging. Pleading. Gawd the pain! She felt tears sliding down her face, knew her dark mascara was smearing lines down her cheeks. How he loved that. Visible proof of the pain she suffered for him.

“PLEASE!” Her voice, wavering and soft, was a scream in her head.

“What does my little fuck toy want?” His voice was husky, deep with his desires.

“Please, please, Master, your slut needs to cum. Your slut needs to cum so badly, Sir. Oh GGod! God…it hurts, Master, it hurts so bad, please, Sir, please may your slut cum for You?”

Perhaps it was the phrasing, perfectly delivered. Perhaps it was his mood, cum boiling in his balls. Perhaps it was cosmic alignment, beyond explanations.

“Cum for your Master,  my fucktoy! Cum hard for me NOW!”   He barked out this last, even as his own release rocketed from his hard throbbing cock, held tightly in his own hand. He envisioned pumping it deeply into her, cunt or bowels, it mattered not. It only mattered that she fueled his release, fed his desires, sated him.

He watched her, fluids leaking from her pink and swollen cuntlips.  The large black dildo, buried to the hilt inside of her body, her pink painted nails clutching the base, paler than the surrounding flesh. Those nails caught his attention for a moment, and he imagined them digging into the flesh of his back, scoring him with those  innocent-looking weapons of passion.

His gaze returned to her nipples. Swollen and painful looking with the clamps biting hard on the tender flesh there. Biting through the bruises he’d left there earlier in the week. He imagined the pain of that. Imagined her face when she removed them.

She was staring at the cam, begging written clearly on her face. Tears still tracked down her face, winking like quicksilver in the dim  light. The wavering lines, black-smeared, wetly gleaming made his cock lurch again. HIS slut. His paintoy. She took what he ordered. Took it, transformed it. The evidence of that transformation was even now staining the duvet cover on her bed.

“Release my nipples” he ordered.

Although it was what she desired most just now, having reached her orgasm, the pain was appalling. And yet. She hatedlovedhatedneeded it so badly. And how much it would fucking hurt to remove his toys. She pulled the first off, quickly. The pain took a moment to bloom, and he watched as the expression in her eyes changed, from immediate relief to shock and pain. The nipple swelled, filling the dimples left by the clamps. The whitened nub became pink, then reddened as blood returned. He knew she wanted to rub at it, seek the relief of that caress, but she didn’t ask, and he didn’t offer. Her hand poised over the second clamp. Hesitated.

He watched her tits rise and fall with her deep breath. Then again. She was brave, but she was also willing to procrastinate just a little bit.

“NOW” he thundered.

Her hand, driven by his voice alone, snatched at the remaining clamp and took it off. Her moan ran from her mouth to his balls. Nevermind the thousand miles that separated them just now, the sound of her submission drove a nail of lust straight through him.

“Rub, play, squeeze those buds for me, slut,” his voice had grown husky again. She knew what that meant.

Playtime was far from over.