can’t, she whimpered. Her head thrashed from side to side, the only part of her body free to move.
His voice was implacable. His will be done, she knew but she was going to die.
hell of a way to go, her brain said, as her body jerked. Fluid jetted from her swollen vulva, her pussy red from the beatings of hand and toys. Her clit throbbed, her nipples tightened. Again.
He rested the vibe against her slit as she whimpered, and leaning over her, snapped a tiny elastic over her nipples. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this, and her nipples radiated pain. Her pussy flushed a deeper red.
The vibe slipped inside her pussy and pumped hard and fast.
nooo i can’t, i can’t i caaaaaannnnn…”
Her body arched against the ropes that held it down, open, accessible to his every touch. Her mouth opened in a high keening nnnnnnnn sound that drew a smile from him. It was the sound of ultimate surrender. She could not control what happened to her. She’d wanted orgasms, not pain.
He just did what she wanted, he reminded her as she sagged back against the mattress. Orgasms and not pain. Orgasm after orgasm is what he gave her. His gift, his acceding to her desires. He wondered if she thought it was a gift still.
Her head moved, perhaps a nod of agreement. Sweat matted her hair to her forehead. Her nose and eyes were slick with other fluids, including his come.
She’d been so pretty when she’d come into the room, hair long and loose and softly curled, makeup just so, skirt and shirt tidy and sexy.
Now she was a wreck, a ruin of a slut, broken and weeping and coming again. Covered in sweat and come and tears, she’d gone from pretty to something else entirely. She was his. And he made her come apart.
And she was beautiful.