I looked up skeptically at the apparatus Mike the Hardware Guy had rigged to the rafters of the warehouse. An electric winch was bolted to the steel frame and I have to admit that it looked insufficient to lift fifty pounds, much less the one hundred and seventeen that I weighed. The chain, and the oversized hook attached to it, dangled down almost fifteen feet, just a few inches off the plush carpeted floor.
Nearby, Julie stood with her arms crossed, patiently waiting, her eyes flitting back and forth between me and Mike. She was dressed simply; blue jeans and a tee shirt, just like Mike. The man himself was busy laying out another set of chains, connected to a eight foot long steel bar. Mike was a large guy, with broad shoulders, and looked like a cross between Bob Villa (of Time Life Home Improvement fame) and a linebacker for the Houston Texans. His well trimmed beard framed a warm smile and I could testify as to his physical prowess on a number of levels.
He finished attaching the unusually thick bondage cuffs to the spreader bar and then turned his head to look at me.
“You ready?” He asked, the tone of his voice both wicked and sensual, as if he was looking explicitly forward to the coming predicament I would shortly be in. I was about to say “no” when Julie interrupted.
“Of course she is,” declared Julie. She looked at me and gestured me forward. I took a deep breath. There aren’t exactly options when your mistress gives you a lawful order. I took a few steps toward Mike, feeling less than sure about the whole thing. What if it gave out? What if I weighed too much? Could it really hold me?
He grinned. “Good. Just sit down there, with your feet up here,” he said, pointing to the spreader bar. His eyes dipped down to the wet, shaved, and quite pink slit between my thighs. I wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing, which was par for the course when it came to an official submissive in the meeting rooms of the Society of the Golden Rose. Julie was a member, or mistress, which meant she could use the meeting rooms for the occasional, off-the-books torment session. Me? I was allowed access at any time, provided that I understood I’d be stripped naked, whipped, clamped, and fucked stupid by all the various mistresses. While that may sound somewhat extreme, please bear in mind that I didn’t have to pay the three grand a month in dues.
Besides, the Society had paid for the winch and I suspected that what was about to be inflicted upon my person was more of a test run than a one time adventure. I sat down, giving Mike an even better glimpse of my sweet goodness, but he ignored the prize before him and took hold of my right foot. My butt slid across the shag carpet, but I moved with it, until my ankle was where Mike wanted it. The bondage cuff was heavily padded, three or even four times the usual size of the restraints I’m accustomed too. It wrapped around securely, Mike’s deft fingers tightening the straps until there wasn’t a chance in hell that I could free myself. I just hoped it was enough to keep my foot from slipping free.
“Spread your legs,” he said perfunctorily, already wrapped up in the mechanics of what he was doing, rather than the sexual nature of it. I did as asked though. I’m used to it. “Spread your legs” is probably the most common order given to a nympho humiliation pain slut. After all, that’s where most of the fun happens. Right? I lifted my left leg, stretched it out as far as I could make it go, and Mike moved over to the other end of the spreader bar.
It was a process, getting secured, and my thighs ached with the stretch of it. “I don’t understand why I have to be spread so wide apart,” I grumped, to no one in particular, as I ended up flat on my back. An eight foot wide spreader bar puts an impressive distance between one’s feet. Quite the wide… uh… whatever. I’d say stance, but do you have a stance when you’re lying on your back or upside down? Gait? Bearing? Carriage?
Ah,,, who cares. My legs were spread, the chains connecting the cuffs to spreader bar were taut, and there must have been a four foot clearance, providing impressive and open access to my pussy. I propped myself up on my elbows, looking down as Mike lifted the electric remote control. “I’m starting to have…” I began, but then the electric winch started up, pulling the chain, hook, and spreader bar up way faster than I was prepared for. My feet started to rise and I gasped.
“Second thoughts!” I spluttered. My bottom came up off the carpet and I felt my body getting pulled along the carpet. I skittered forward, using my hands, trying to keep my back from getting rug burn, and mostly succeeded. But then my butt was up in the air, the bottoms of my feet pointed up toward the ceiling. I hunched my shoulders as my weight moved and then I gasped as I swung free, my long, red hair pulled along the carpet. A moment later I dangled, the winch stopping and I realized that I couldn’t even touch the ground while stretching my arms out.
Oh. Oh fuck.
For ten seconds I felt somewhat disoriented as up became down and I was given a rather unusual perspective of the Society meeting rooms. My head was still lower than Julie’s, so I looked down at her, fighting gravity’s best efforts to make me look up. She was grinning, her eyes bright with both excitement and arousal.
That's when the blood started rushing to my head.
The human body was designed specifically to be upright, and while the risks associated with being upside down were minor, at least for a girl my age, it wasn't comfortable. I felt the pressure first, in my neck, along the jugular, then behind my eyes. I blinked, and was about to say something snarky, and maybe a little sarcastic and derogatory, when I felt Mike's hand on me. It slid down the inside of my thigh, almost to my pussy, and I felt the heat of his touch combine with a slick wetness. For a second I tensed, hoping he’d push his fingers into my well. I wanted him to touch me. I admit it. Even upside down. But instead he denied me, pulling away and running his hand back up my leg, leaving me to gasp in delight as little shudders of pleasure shot up… down… my spine. Then Julie hurried forward, hand extended. Mike gave her something and then she too was touching me, using both hands to spread and smear the clear grapeseed oil on my legs. Except… she didn't stop when she got close my pussy.
I gasped as she touched, caressed, fondled, and then spread my folds, working her oil slick fingers into my slit with prurient focus. Her fingers set me quivering and suddenly being upside down didn’t seem like such a bad idea. My own weight and the rigging kept my legs open, giving her both access and an angle unlike anything I was used to.
“Oh… oh yes,” I breathed, my hips already starting to twitch. Then Mike distracted me from Julie's digging, questing fingers, by squirting a fair amount of the oil over my ass, back and stomach. Rivulets of grapeseed oil streamed down… or up… my body, heading toward my head. I couldn't help it. “Isobel is going to be pissed if you stain the carpet,” I warned them. Hands moved fast to catch the runnels streaking down, or up, my body. Then Mike tapped the bottle of oil against my tit.
“Here,” he said. “Hold this.”
I took the bottle. It was weird. It looked like I was holding it upside down and that the contents would pour out. I had to resist the urge to tip it, and frankly, had Julie not been thrusting three fingers deep into my well, working to get a fourth in there, I might have been more eager to investigate the warping of my reality. So while Julie fingerfucked me, Mike oiled every other inch.
It felt good, that's for sure, and I was panting in moments, the internal sexual pressure intense and visceral. Julie's thumb kept rubbing my clit and I continued to thrust my hips as Mike suddenly knelt down, wrapped his arms around my body, and began kneading my breasts. Oil made his hands slick and the upside down position made my full, 36C sized breasts fall… uh… downward, toward my chin, making them look fuller, larger, and admittedly more fantastic than usual.
Clearly, gravity is not a woman's friend in most cases.
I almost lost it right then and there, the combination of sensations too much for me to handle. Julie's fingers were dancing in and out of me, pushing me toward the brink of climax, while Mike squeezed, pinched, and massaged my breasts. Waves of pleasure streamed through me, shooting up… uh… down… my spine toward my head. I moaned, whimpered, then made it very, very clear that I was about to cum. By asking politely, for permission.
“May I cum, please?” I panted strenuously.
The effect of my question was immediate from both Mike and Julie. A verbal response might have been kinder, but instead Julie yanked her fingers out of my cunt and began slapping my pussy, spanking me with hard, stinging blows that changed the dynamic significantly, what with Mike’s hard, twisting pinches. I swear, it felt like he was trying to rip off my tits. Pain shot through me, minimizing the immediacy of my arousal, and pushing off the orgasm.
For a bit.
Mike let go of my breasts and came around to my front, practically pushing Julie out of the way. It didn't seem to bother her though as she moved around my outstretched leg. My attention was suddenly diverted to Mike’s zipper, which had come down rapidly. A quick motion exposed his rock hard cock, and then he thrust it toward my face.
I opened my mouth instinctively, taking as much of him in as I could. I also grabbed hold of Mike by the pants, my free swinging hands providing some leverage. That's when I realized that sucking cock upside down is not as easy as doing it right side up. It was hard to swallow and spittle seemed to stream down my face. Some of it got into my nose and I gagged. Mike seemed understanding as I pushed him away enough to get my breath, and when I pulled him back, he moaned. I loved the scent and feel of him, so wrapped up in what I was doing, I never once considered where Julie was, or what she was getting.
Until I heard the swish. And felt the stinging hot blow over my entire cunt.
I squealed, which when you think about it, was a neat trick considering my mouth was full of cock. The scary part was that she'd hit me hard enough between the legs to make me want to grit my teeth. Pretty sure Mike wouldn't have liked that. I struggled as the bite turned into heat, surging through me, and it was everything I could do to keep my mouth open and sucking.
Julie hit me again and evidently my response concerned Mike enough that he pulled himself out of my mouth, leaving me panting and hissing. His cock bobbed and weaved a few inches away from my nose. Another blow sent streamers of fire burning on my loins.
“Oww!” I blurted out. I reached down, (or was it up?), to my pussy, bending slightly to cover my sex as another swing from Julie's cat-o-nine-tails bit into the soft gash between my legs. I yelped, covered my sex, and got slashed across the knuckles as a reward.
That hurt. “Oww! Fuck!”
“Mike! Her hands?” Julie snarled in frustration, clearly wroth that I was impeding her efforts to beat my slit into mash. She swung the whip again, letting my fingers have it again. It hurt enough this time that I let go, as if I'd touched something that scalded me. I swung my hand around, hissing, and possibly expressing some choice cuss words, only for Mike to grab my arm roughly. The thick leather cuff Julie quickly wrapped around my wrist went on easily. Then they did the other side. I didn't technically fight them, but I sure as hell tried to make it difficult. Hard even. My hands were clipped behind my back and I heard the rattle of a chain against something metal.
“Here,” Julie said. I twisted round, trying to see what she had, but I felt, rather than saw the D links being attached to the cuffs. Then my arms were pulled down (or up. Fuck this directional shit!) toward my ass. I felt something cold, hard, and rounded press into my back door and I squealed like a stuck pig as the anal hook was inserted. Julie cinched the chain and the weight of my arms pulled the hook in deeper. I groaned. Loudly. I hate things being in my ass.
I expected Julie to pick up her whip again, but instead she put her hand between my legs, caressed my perineum, and then pushed her fingers back into my slit. Instantly I was back at the edge, hips twitching as pure, unadulterated bliss streamed down - uh… up - my body.
“Yes! Oh yes!” I blurted out. The pain of the whip was instantly forgotten, relegated to “prep work” on my sexually charged body.
Then Mike filled my view, coming around to my front. His cock was still out, still hard, and I strained myself, trying to reach him with my outstretched tongue. Without my hands, I had no way to grab him, or do more than twist and swing. I wanted to suck on him. Badly. But instead he dropped down, raising his hands to my right breast. My eyes widened in alarm as he positioned the steel clover clamp behind my nipple piercing. It was one of the ridged ones, to prevent slippage. But the true perfidy was the weight. At least a pound. I didn't think my tit could fall upward - fuck... downward - any more than it already was. My nipple twisted painfully and agony shot down… erm… up… my spine.
I sucked in a ragged breath, my brain trying to cope with competing sensations. Agony and ecstasy. Julie's fingers swirled and dipped, rubbing and creaming me, while Mike attached the second vicious clamp across from the first, onto my left breast. The tips of my bosom seemed to burn horribly, the twisting of each, round, pink nipple adding a bitter edge to the pleasure. But it also made me want to cum even more.
Mike grabbed me by the head, his fingers wrapping in my scarlet locks, and stuck his cock back in my mouth. There was no finesse to it, no delicate mouthing of his member. Still, it wasn’t like I had options. I did my best to slurp on him, at first eager, my body tightening even more, wriggling to get the right bobbing action. That's when I realized that jerking your head back and forth, while suspended upside down, with your tits weighted, was a really, really dumb thing to do. The steel on my breasts swung, smacking me uncomfortably on the collarbone, but more importantly, they made the twisting of my nipples ten times worse. I screamed around Mike's cock, a muffled shriek as my brain tried to report my nipples being torn off my body. I froze then, trying to hold still, cock in my mouth, fingers in my pussy, as Mike continued to skull fuck me.
Yeah. Right.
Mike pumped his shaft into my mouth, obviously worked up, but I was in too much pain to ignore it. The second his grip wavered I jerked my head back, spitting, saliva dripping down my cheeks.
“Please! They hurt too much! Medical out!” I shouted.
You should have seen them. The fingers in my pussy jerked loose and Julie knelt down almost as quick as Mike. Tears streamed down (up?) my face along my temples and then I screamed again, this time as the clover clamps were released. Blood rushed back into the crushed tips of my breasts and the throbbing hurt pulsed in time with my heartbeat. Julie bent down and suckled one nipple into her mouth. It hurt, but it also felt good. Mike had stood back up and I felt his cock against my chin. I opened my mouth and swallowed the thick, long dick.
Mike groaned and Julie let go of my breast to rise. I have expected her to push her hand into me again, or to get the whip, but instead something soft, firm, and very cock-like was pushed firmly and gently into my gaping, wet gash. I stiffened, impaled in every hole, my ass clenching around the hook as Julie turned on the vibrator. I sucked on Mike the Hardware Guy even harder, my body now surging with pleasure. I couldn't control it. Worse, the sex toy Julie had chosen had an arm, an offshoot of the main shaft, which pressed tightly to my clit.
My vision blurred and my hips pumped violently, even upside down. Mike thrust himself into my mouth, his balls literally smacking me between the eyes with every thrust. Spit soaked my cheeks and streamed down my face making a gooey mess. Then, just as I reached my limit, Mike yanked himself free, grabbed his cock, and began ejaculating on my face. White cream exploded out of him, splattering my chin, mouth, nose, and cheek. It dripped down into my hair. I spluttered, cum going up my nose. All this was going on at the same time Julie jammed the vibrator in and out of my sex, stirring the pot so to speak. Then my own orgasm hit. I swung my head back and forth, screaming. But not in pain. Oh God no. Every muscle in my body screamed with absolute, undying pleasure. Utter bliss. I exploded.
I don't think I blacked out. But it was close. My vision swam. My heart thudded. A million amazing chemicals blasted their way through my bloodstream. Pure adrenaline flared through me, endorphins blazing through my brain. Oxytocin and dopamine, all natural and encompassing swamped my intellectual boat, rendering me nothing but a mindless, cumming animal, a sex doll in the process of blowing up. It was pure, sweet bliss.
When my brain started working again I was no longer upside down. My legs were still in the spreader, hauled half way up to the ceiling, but my back was on the soft pile of the carpet. Julie stood above me, now naked from the waist down, wearing just the thin tee shirt. Her narrow waist and taut belly made me want to touch her. My hands had been freed from the ass hook (which had been cruelly left in my butt by the way) and my arms were loose, positioned above my head. The vibrator had been removed, leaving my pussy empty.
“Was that a nice cum?” Julie asked sweetly, stepping over me. The light wasn't good from this angle, but her pussy looked delicious and wet. I nodded, still too lost in the euphoria of climax. It's like a drug. Julie knelt down above my head and the scent of her made me lift my head. I got a close-up look at her slit. It was pink, and wet, and lovely. She lowered herself until her petals were almost within range. I realized that I was already straining, lifting my head, tongue extended, to get to her.
“You have to be punished now, for cumming,” she said. “Mike is going to spank your pussy.” It came out simply, like a fact of life, rather than a threat. A plus B equals pussy whipping.
“With a sap,” she added. She came even closer and now my tongue touched her. The salty tang of her sweet syrup filled my taste buds and I licked, almost frantic now to eat her. Still, the idea of the coming punishment, the striking blows of the leather sap, filled me with trepidation. I sensed Mike behind me. Julie's pussy blocked my view, but my spread open legs made for an inviting and perfect target. I imagined the leather paddle beating out a dark, wet rhythm on my sensitive folds.
“H-h-how many strokes?” I blubbered, my words caressing Julie’s soft slit.
Julie twisted and looked down at me, eyes sparkling. “Until I cum,” and with that she mashed her cunt down onto my face, fucking my nose and chin with her dripping snatch. I wrapped my arms around her legs, lucking and sucking, literally drinking her juices. Her hips rocked violently, fucking my face just as passionately as Mike had a few minutes before. Fluids poured out of her, down my chin and onto my neck. I heard a smacking sound, a series of sharp snaps, and marveled at how loud they seemed. They sounded wet and intense. A nanosecond later came the stinging pain, bursting between my outstretched thighs. I jerked, but Julie's pussy kept me pinned and the brutal sapping of my pussy went on. And on.
I am a nympho humiliation pain slut. A masochist. My fucked up brain mistranslates sexualized pain incorrectly as pleasure. Or something. So as I licked and tongued my mistress, the heat and fury of the paddle smacking my pussy, the pain and pleasure, the spark of arousal, reignited. And flared. And burned. Hot and wild.
The sap paused for a moment and Mike’s mouth came down to my seared, swollen clit, sucking and licking it, even as I chewed on Julie's matching nub. My body shook as passion exploded within me, the three of us rocking in orgasmic rhythm, me bound between them, a hot wet mess, meant for their sadistic pleasure. Julie cried out, grinding hard, and Mike raised the sap to my pussy again, tapping out a staccato measure as my mistress arched her back, yanked off her shirt, and began pinching her own meager breasts. My toes curled above me, my feet still secured to the spreader bar. All I could hear beyond Julie’s panting moans, was the wet, muddy snap of the paddle as it struck my sodden pussy and the beat of my heart, pounding in my head.
Then Julie cried out. Her body shook and I suddenly couldn't breathe as she pressed herself into my face. I didn't care. I was so close myself. I licked. I tongued. I held on for dear life as she shuddered and shook. And then, as the dark spots threatened my vision, she fell over to the side, giving me air. I looked and saw her twitching with orgasm, her chest heaving with passion.
I looked back up between my legs. Mike knelt behind me, his face positioned in the middle of my thighs, his chin wet with my juices. The sap was raised over my dark pink, well beaten slit, and my swollen clit begged for it. Our eyes met and I nodded, just a little. A thousand words would never have conveyed what that look did, but if I could sum it up, it would have been, “yes. Do it. Spank me. Use me. Hurt me. Beat me there. I need… no… have to cum.”
The leather sap came down hard and fast, spreading my folds and biting into my cunt with eager violence. I screamed, hips thrusting upward into the repeated spanks, as Mike brought the sap down ten, twenty, thirty times. I was only vaguely aware of Julie rolling over my top half, using her body to hold my arms back, her mouth on my left nipple, sucking and biting. My vision blurred and for the second time I came. Heat and cold and pain and pleasure fried every neuron in my brain and as I went limp, I closed my eyes and smiled.
Movement. I was moving. My eyes snapped open as I was dragged across the carpet. My feet rose fast, followed by my still hooked ass as the winch lifted me into the air. The blood began rushing to my head again as Julie grabbed my flailing wrists and clipped the cuffs together behind my back. Again. I whimpered as I felt the pull on the hook, the weight of my arms driving it deeper into my butt.
“But… but… I came,” I managed to splutter, my voice strained and exhausted. “We all exploded!” I twisted, hanging there like a piece of meat. I felt tired.
“Yes,” Julie replied from behind me. “But I haven't flogged your titties yet.”
I turned my head, trying to see her. Instead Mike blocked the view, standing right behind me. That's when the vibrator was pushed back into my squelching pussy. He jammed it deep, the protruding arm smashed against my clit. Then he turned it on. I gasped and began twitching. So intense… holy fuck. I blinked, trying to sort out the sensations, my body inverted, blood pooling in my head. My loins twitched as my pussy tightened rhythmically around the violently buzzing shaft. Could he possibly make me cum again? Mike kept a hand on the vibrator, moving it up and down through my slit. Within a minute, it was like I hadn't even exploded before.
Julie sauntered into view, her narrow form sensual and exotic. She was still naked, her tiny breasts mere points on a flat surface. She stood to the side of me, at an angle, the flogger swishing back and forth, its strands brushing the floor. She looked both lovely and menacing.
“Are you ready, my love?” She asked me, shaking out the cat-o-nine-tails. I shook my head, teeth clenched, but she only smiled as she moved into the position. She flicked the flogger at my tits, and the ends of each strand smacked the soft undersides of both breasts. I gasped, the sting cohesive and strong. Between my legs, Mike pumped the vibrator. Julie didn’t stop, or reset. She coasted on the back swing, letting the whip strike my breasts again. This time it was more centered, catching both nipples. I yelped, the pain just enough to make me tighten. The third stroke came and I heard it impact, more than just the swish, and I gritted my teeth as the high pitched whine escaped my lips.
Back and forth she struck me, never too hard, never too soft, almost in time with Mike’s solid, forceful fucking. My body shook and I began twisting, struggling to get away from the non-stop blows. My tits stung, then became hot, over and over with slashing pain. My nipples swelled under the constant abuse and attention, until I was yelling with each new slash. Tears welled up in my eyes and I blubbered.
“Now, your ass,” Julie said in satisfaction. She moved around me as I blinked, trying to get the tears out of my eyes. I looked upward, toward the ceiling and my hanging breasts. They were flushed pink. There were a few welts, the thin narrow stripes of the leather strands. I’d be colored this way for at least a day, maybe two. My skin felt hot and tight and my boobs heavy. I sniveled, only to realize that my pussy was going absolutely crazy around the vibrator. The pleasure hit me like a brick, swiping much of the hurt away. I groaned, overwhelmed, shaking. Then Mike came around, knelt down by my head, and grabbed my breasts with both hands. He didn’t pinch, but it was a solid grip.
No words were spoken. There was no warning. Not even a barest “brace yourself Bridget.” The flogger flashed, striking my rump from left to right. It caught and tug at the hook and my lower… uh… upper… half tightened, threatening to push the vibrator, which was still vibrating on high, out. Julie brought the whip back again, striking from the other direction, aiming for the other buttock. Back and forth, just like my breasts, she attacked my backside, never striking anything other than my butt. The prickling impacts began to burn, heating up and I knew she was hitting my ass with much more force than she’d used on my breasts. I twisted, trying to get away, to spare my burning rear, but Mike’s deathgrip on my tits kept me in place. Slash after cutting slash sliced into my flank until I was screaming again, crying out with the pain.
Julie suddenly tossed the whip away and embraced me, her cheek against my ass. She began kissing my abraded flesh and I felt the winch move, lowering me. My head got closer to the carpet, but I stopped right before I touched. I dangled. Then Julie pulled the vibrator from my depths, turned it off, and began kissing my labia.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
The kisses were the butterfly kind, tingly and light. I panted, the dichotomy of hurt and bliss wreaking havoc on my mental state. I wanted down. I wanted up. I need her to fuck me again. I needed to hurt more. I couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Do I beg? Plead? Endure? Her tongue came out, lapping at my pussy, then dipped into my well. My clit came under her mouth, suckled and licked. Her head was buried in my pussy. I clenched again, my ass, my sex, my entire body as she drove me banana fucking nuts crazy. She held me, caressed me, and ate me.
Mike came around to my front and the massager he pressed to my right breast only felt good. Spasms began to rock me, shooting up and down my body like lightning across the sky. I burned and froze, rocked and held still. Then, as her tongue darted, snakelike, at my clit, I couldn’t hold off. I stiffened, a grinding, clenched moan of utter desire coming out of from between my teeth.
“Do you want it?” Julie asked me softly.
“OH GOD YES!” I practically shouted.
She let out a soft chuckle. “What would you do for it?”
“PLEASE! ANYTHING!” I said, thoughtlessly.
“Would you hang here for the next hour, letting me torture you?” She teased, rubbing my clit with her still oily finger.
I nodded frantically. “YES, OH GOD YES! PLEASE JULIE! PLEASE LET ME CUM!”
Her fingers swirled across my pussy. “Of course I will,” she said softly, pushing two fingers into me and curling them. I felt her nails on my insides and quivered. “But there is a cost,” she said warningly.
I gasped. My eyes widened, and for a brief moment my mind cleared. I thought precisely, analyzing the risks, the sensations, the effects. I thought about the weight of my internal organs on my lungs, making each breath harder. I thought about the blood pooling in my head. I thought about my heart laboring to push fluids upward, against gravity and nature, to keep circulation going to my toes. I thought about my resilience and whether I could take it.
Then I nodded. “Yes. Do it.”
Julie pulled her hand out of my pussy, stepped back, and picked up the whip. Mike’s eyes widened as he looked around my torso, then he let go and moved back. Julie brought the whip up, and then brought it down, overhand, so that the middle of each strand landed right where the ass hook was embedded. The loose ends curled, cutting and splitting my folds, until my pussy was flayed open. The ends, bit at my pudenda, finding my swollen, hurting clit. Pure anguish shot through me, hot and hurting. She swung again, almost as hard. Then a third time. And a fourth. And a fifth. On and on, blow after blow. Searing heat lashing at my loins.
I screamed. I shook. And then… well…
I’m a nympho humiliation pain slut.
I came.
