“I know, slut…your clit is getting all swollen isn’t it?”
Whimpers answer, ball gag firmly behind teeth prohibiting clear speech. The writhing form on the bed is held open by the ropes around wrists and ankles. The persistent hum comes from the juncture of thighs. The scent of warm cunt fills the air over the bed. Deep male laughter echos in the room that is dimly lit, and empty but for the old metal-framed bed, not much more than a mattress really, and a single wooden chair. His coat is hung on the door knob. Her clothing is folded in a neat pile in the corner.
Her body humps the tool, then attempts to skitter away when He plays with the intensity. The vibrator ratchets up to “high”, then down to “low” with no rhyme or reason other than His desire to torment her.
“Poor little slut wants to cum, don’t you?”
Her head nods violently ‘yes’.
He pulls the vibe away, watching her hips rise seeking that little edge that would have gotten her off. The chuckle comes again. Her body sways, searching for the humming device, her tits bobble. Setting aside the vibe, He grabs the nearest tit, pinching the tip hard. His eyes watch as the skin crinkles, as the miracle of the nipple rises from the flat disk of her areola. Waiting, watching, she feels His breath on her skin. When the bead of her tit is full, His fingers pinch it, rolling it between His fingers. His lips encircle it, sucking hard.
Her hips rise; nipple play always makes her cum, if He does it long enough.
With a loud
His lips release her. Quickly He fastens a clothes pin to the tender bit. Her teeth bite down on the rubber ball in her mouth, eyes clench closed at the sudden shock of pain, yet her clit continues to throb. His voice breaks through the hum of the vibe which is rattling against the floor, discarded for now as He play roughly with her tits.
“Peter–you know Peter–?”
She nods. Knows him, loathes him.
“He wanted me to go out for a beer with him tonight. But I told him I had a date with you.”
He laughed roughly, recalling his friend’s face at the news.
“He told me I was a lucky son-of-a-bitch, having a ‘girlfriend’ with big, fat, juicy, knockers. I almost told him then, slut. You aren’t my ‘girlfriend’, but my fuck-meat. My slut-toy. My goodness, can you imagine that? He’d blow a load in his jeans hearing that wouldn’t he?”
Goose bumps rose against her flesh, her aching nipple squeezed tight within the jaws of the wooden peg hurting just a bit more as a shiver ran up her spine.
“He said he’d buy me a beer someday if I let him suck your titties.”
There was a pause as he picked up the vibe. The hum came close, then pressed against the side of her tit. The wooden peg shook on it’s fat mount, making her cringe. Her clit throbbed at the sudden surge of pain, pleasure mixed with the heady darkness she craved. Before she could cum, the vibe moved away, lower.
His voice came again, low and husky.
“I told him okay. For a beer he could suck your titties.”
She stiffened with shock, but the vibe pressing against her clit drew a deep moan from her throat. His words flowed over her.
“Then I told him, hell, for a bottle of Jamison’s I’d let him slide his stiffy into your fuck-hole. You should have seen his face, slut.”
The vibe slid away from her cunt again. Her hips humped the air, seeing the edge, seeking release. Her fingers opened, then closed into tight fists. A steady moan came from her mouth, sounding splooshy as drool pooled behind the gag.
“His eyes grew huge. And then I said,” Her Master’s voice took on that wicked edge that turned her on, and made her nervous. The vibe flicked on to high, and pressed hard against the swollen center of her sex. “….For two bottles, you could chose her cunt OR her mouth…and if you threw in the beers, you could suck or slap those fat titties you keep oogling.”
His laugh barked out. She was beyond caring, her body beginning to convulse from the intense pressure on her pussy. He pulled the vibe away, holding it just above her cunt. His words pulled her from the edge of the orgasmic abyss.
“His eyes almost popped out of his head, slut, and I almost laughed…I could see him picturing the scene, and having to choose between shoving his cock up your snatch and pouring his juice into your belly, or sliding between your bright red lips, and shooting his babyseeds into your tummy.”
The vibe returned to torture the vee of her pussy. She was close…so close to cumming. Wiggling to get better position, she could feel herself poised on the edge, when he moved the fucking vibe again.
Her tit shook as he pressed the thing against the meat of her breast. The clothes pin jittered and shook and she moaned at the pain and pleasure of it. She hated when he did this, torturing her pussy and her tit. Shamefully, she also adored it.
“When I got home,” he continued, moving the vibe again, pressing it hard against her clit, “there was an entire case of Jamison’s on the front porch. And two beers.”
She came hard when the doorbell chimed.