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He gripped my throat from behind, squeezing with one hand as he reached around and slapped my balls with his palm. I struggled, relieved that there was no escape. I could fight all I wanted, but I was going tohurt, and he was going to make me feel it.
“That’s right, you little slut,” he gritted out. “You’re horny for humiliation, yeah?”
He released my throat, knelt, tugged my sore cheeks roughlyapart and spit on my hole. “Fucking whore. Craving cum. Living for it.”
When he shoved the head of his cock into me with just the spit from his mouth, I groaned and bore down, aching for the rest of him to slide in. But he withheld the satisfaction, just fucking the crown in and out, uncomfortably popping past the rim.
I tried to trick him into going deeper by leaning back as he shoved in, but I had no real leverage and not much room to maneuver, chained up like I was.
Sir pulled all the way out, leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Do you deserve my cock?”
I groaned, shaking my head. I didn’t. ButfuckI wanted it so bad.
“I didn’t think so. I’ll let you have this instead.”
He moved away, and shortly I heard something being dragged toward me. Something heavy.
I squirmed and twisted my head around, finally seeing that he’d brought over the machine I’d spotted the first day. It looked handcrafted out of wood with a pump of some kind, and it held a metal arm with a dildo attached.
A hell of a dildo too. Thicker than Sir’s cock, and longer.
I’d heard of this sort of thing, even seen some instructions for building one in the back of one of the porn magazines at Chelsea Station, but until I saw Sir’s dungeon, I’d never known anyone who actually had one.
“You have your ball,” Sir told me. “You can reject this now and end the scene before we start, or if we get going and this is too much for you, then you can end the scene at any time. Just drop the ball.”
I squeezed it even more tightly. When I felt the thing move into position between my legs, I sucked in a long, anxious breath, and tried to let it out slowly.
“This is going to feel so good,” he said, as he shoved it closer to my hole, lined it up and then carefully extended the arm a little longer so that the dildo’s lubed head rubbed against my entrance. “Don’t worry.”
I wasn’t worried. I was excited. But I was here forpain. I needed it. Where was it?
But that thought went out of my head as soon as the dildo breached me solidly. After fitting the head inside me, Luke stepped away to turn on the machine. The first thrust in was slow and steady, but then he increased the rate, and I stood immobilized by the chains as the dildo opened me and worked my hole until I was shaking in pleasure, groaning in need, and dripping a puddle onto the floor from the tip of my dick.
“That’s good,” Luke said calmly. “Look at you squirm. Not as nice as when you squirm on my cock, but it’s a pretty sight.”
I’d reached the place again where I really didn’t want his praise during the scene, but if he was going to let me come on this big dildo, then I wasn’t going to drop my safe word ball just to argue with him about it.
I felt him approach. He had the mean, red whip in hand. “Feels good, just like I said, yeah?”
I nodded in agreement, my eyes on the whip, a sharp worry penetrating my pleasure-fogged brain.
“This, though,” he said, showing me the whip with that sadistic grin that both made me harder and scared the shit out of me. “Won’t feel good at all.”
I groaned behind the gag, shaking my head. He waited to see if I’d drop the ball, but I held tight.
“Let me show you what I mean,” he whispered, and then with a quick snap, he flashed that whip across the back of my thighs just below where my balls were drawn up tight to the base of my cock.
I screamed, the sound muffled by the gag.
“Nice, right?” Then he laughed, and I felt tears slip down my cheek.
“That’s what I like to see,” he said, wiping them away with his thumb and a fake sympathetic pout. “Is the poor little boy crying? Because of a little slap?”
He let the whip draw back and then snap against my chest, right over my nipples. I struggled, the machine still plunging into me, and when I fought, it rammed against my prostate, making me shout for another reason.
“Mm,” he murmured, rubbing his stubble against my cheek and then down my neck, kissing my collarbones and sucking on my now sore nipples. “So fucking pretty when you hurt.”
He stood. “Don’t fight, though. Don’t want the toy to come out now, do you? It’s the only part of this that’s going to feel good. You’ll want that.”
