Perverted Pleasures (4)

It hurt.

A steady throbbing rhythm — her heartbeat — beat in her asshole. She sat, a fat, black cock buried to the hilt in her cunt, while a new, bigger thing…Mr. Blue…filled her anus.

“Just working to stretch out that asshole. It will be filled with other things before the end of the day.”

His cock was bigger than the dildo in her ass. A shudder trembled through her when she realized he intended to fuck her in the ass. Before now the only thing she’d ever had in her ass was shit. Despite all the play times she’d had, anal had been on her “no” list. It was one of the advantages of not having a permanent Dom…there was no one who would be “pushing her limits”.  Kink without the commitment had been her rule of thumb. But here she had signed away all “no way’s” –there were only a few “hard limits” that were allowed by the House. No tattooing. No blood-play unless she was menstruating and then all bets were off. No breath-play. Everything else had been left as an option. She remembered going over all the boxes on the form, then reiterating them during her phone interview.

Despite the pain in her ass, or perhaps because of it, her excitement level grew. Her nipples were hard, still held in his fingers. Her clit was hard. Any movement would make her cum again.

“Master–I…”

“You must wait until I give you permission to speak.”

“Sorry. Yes Master.”

She waited but he did not speak again. His hands rose, lifting her tits, and she rose along with them, to avoid having her nipples ripped off. She shuddered as his thick shaft scraped along her pussy, touching and teasing all the areas that made her wild.

Eyes watched her like a hawk. His gaze was so intense that she couldn’t hold it any longer. His fingers dragged her down, and her trembling thighs lowered until he was fully seated. The tip of his cock pressed against her cervix, a mix of hurting and pleasure. He was serving her that dish repeatedly, the intensity of the pleasure growing with each dose of pain.

In the interview she’d been asked if she was a painslut.

“A little,” she’d responded.

Obviously that was way off, the logical part of her mind said, as his fingers twisted her nipples. Bending forward to relieve the pain, she moaned, which rubbed her clit against his hairy groin. Gods, the shocking stab of lust that engendered! Lost in the ecstasy, she came again.

“Tsk. What a naughty slut.”

Sir’s voice came from behind her, a vague noise amongst the roaring furnace of her orgasm.

“The cane?”

He spoke to Master. At the word ‘cane’, she tried to sit up, but Master’s fingers were still holding her nipples tightly. Sir’s hand at the back of her head pushed her even lower, until her head rested against Master’s chest. The blessed relief of freed nipples as his arms came around her, holding her tight, was quickly ameliorated by the intense pain of blood filling them.

“Oh! OH! It hurts worse…” 

Twin chuckles filled the room.

“She has much to learn,” spoke Sir.

There was a sound, a whooshing. She understood the sound the moment the cane connected with her exposed bottom. When she would have jolted and tried to rise, the arms around her tightened, holding her fast. The cock in her pussy grew even harder, stretching her. The ache of  Mr. Blue seemed to grow as each blow crossed her bottom.

“Twenty?”

“Oh, at the least,” came the rumbling reply from under her ear.

Twenty? How would she survive twenty of those when five had hurt so much? She moaned, croaked out a “please…Master…please” as the cane continued to lash along her curvy ass. Each wiggle drew more pleasure for her, yet more whimpers of hurt. The cane moved quickly, not giving her time to anticipate the next blow before it fell again. Left cheek, right cheek, both cheeks, he moved around her. Two fell on her lower back, two in the center, two across her shoulders, all carefully avoiding Master, but easily striking her.

When it was over, his shirt was soaked with tears, her hair plastered to her cheek with them. He stood suddenly, her body still impaled with him. He moved across the room, only stopping when he had her plastered hard against the wall. Her arms gripped him to keep from falling, her ankles rose to cross behind his waist. He grunted, and fucked her roughly, pressed between the wall and his massive body. His hands grasped her tits holding her up by them, hurting her so intensely that she wondered if she’d actually survive this fucking, let alone the week.

When he came, he roared like thunder, grinding his pelvis into hers, as he roared for her to come.

“Pour your fucking pussy juice on me, you fucking whore!”

She exploded, her orgasm running freely as he withdrew. The sound of his cock filling her was audible, squelching with the dousing from her convulsing cunt. Her last conscious thought was ‘oh fucking wow’, before her mind slid away into the ether.

About vanillamom

For over 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
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6 Responses to Perverted Pleasures (4)

  1. ytysreloaded says:

    Myyyyyyy goodness holy moly donut shop.

  2. Damn hot indeed, well worth waiting for.

  3. Nice Anon says:

    yes please!

  4. Wordwytch says:

    And she signed up for how long??? Hot stuff!

  5. Pingback: Perverted Pleasures (5) | Vanillamom's Blog

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