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She removed the blade from his genitals and gripped his hair, pulling his head back. She patted more clay onto his exposed throat, then skinned it off once again with the blade. Slow, letting him feel the pounding of his pulse beneath the press of the knife.
"She'd need to fuck him before she sent him off into the world, to leave her mark upon him, wouldn't she?"
He nodded vigorously. God, he wanted that. Wanted to ram into her soft, wet cunt, feel her grip him with those strong, internal muscles.
He let out a groan and snarl of frustration when the tip of the strap-on nudged his rear entry. No. He wanted--
Her fingers wrapped around his throat, holding him fast, restricting his breathing.
"You belong to this goddess. You submit to her will. She can keep you a slave forever, make you crawl on your hands and knees, make you climax over and over. You control nothing, because your loss of control is what pleases her, what turns her on so much. You want to fuck her, bring her to climax, but no. You haven't earned, learned, or accepted, what that desire is. You tell yourself you're taking, but only a goddess takes. A servant serves, gives, submits. He cuts himself open and lets her take it all. That's how he finds his salvation."
She drove in, hard, and he strangled on a curse. She chuckled, a sound of lust and heat. "So tight. Lucky for you, this goddess believes in lubrication. She's going to bring her newest creation to life, over and over, until he understands. Even when she at last cuts him loose to wander the earth, he belongs to her."
"Want inside you..." The words were muffled by the gag and she disregarded him anyway. She thrust, teased him, brought him to the cusp of climax, took it away and started again. The clay dried on his skin where she hadn't scraped it free. She stayed buried deep within him when she used her blade on it and pressed harder, both within and without, making him flinch. His body was twisting in the chains, hers moving with him. He was groaning against the gag, the cloth saturated with his saliva.
She took him up and nearly over, such that he snarled like a crazed animal when she pulled out. Yet she'd aroused him so much, he didn't have time to rally and strike back before she'd set him off balance again. She gripped his cock in a blissfully firm grip.
"Stay very still so I don't hurt you. Can you stay still for me, Marius?"
He nodded, though he had second thoughts when a hard, thin rod began to slide into the slit of his cock. She paused.
"Okay. Nod again for me. Tell me you're going to stay still or I'll remove it."
She had an implacable, stern voice in this mode, yet the way she mixed care with it messed him up. He found himself nodding again.
She slowly let the rod invade him, sending tendrils of that weird not-good/good mix of arousal and trepidation through him. He'd done sounding once or twice with mediocre results, but submitting to it with her had him stiffening further in her gentle hands.
"Lovely. To bring a creation to life, one needs lightning. Electricity."
Christ. He jumped at a crackle of sound, right next to his ear. A fucking violet wand. But she wasn't done. Something cool and sharp slid along his shoulder, a prick in the pocket of his collarbones.
"It's amazing, what putting together a knife blade, electrode pads and a cock stuffed with a urethral sound will do. At a certain point a man will feel like he's having a climax even when he's not. Wave after wave, pounding him against a brick wall that never gives way, never relents a bit. And then, when the climax does come, it's overwhelming."
Her breath was against his ear, her body against his back. "It destroys his fucking mind. All his walls are knocked down, so there's nothing between him and his Mistress but his overwhelming need to do everything for her."
She applied the electrode pads with tantalizing touches on his genitalia, and then ran the wand along his cock before he could figure out any kind of defense. It was an invasive, crazy feeling, impossible to describe.
His groans had words, lost against the gag, but Christ, this was... He bucked and convulsed as the wand danced over his cock, again and again. She lifted it away to alternate the sensation with the grip of her hand. Sometimes she played with the sound, sliding it out an inch and then back in. She rubbed her pussy, clad in satin, against his ass. Then she was back to using the wand on him. Not just on his cock. Nipples, a tingling path over his abdomen, then back to his dick. Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck...
She was right. Suddenly it was like he was coming, only he wasn't, and the feeling was going on and on, like a torture that he wanted to stop yet didn't.
He was thrashing in his bonds, crying out, kicking, but she was too nimble, moving around him and keeping the wand going over his cock as he screamed for release, for mercy. He was enraged, needing to do violence. Yet he also wanted to beg. To do anything for her.
"Please, please...fuck..."
She t
ook the wand away, though it felt like the metal rod was still vibrating. Probably the throbbing of his cock. He hoped like a lost man in the desert when she removed the electrodes, but then groaned in despair as she pushed the strap-on inside him again. She'd put everything else aside to wrap her arm around his waist and hip to give her more leverage. Christ, she fucked like a man, shoving into him so he was pushed up onto his toes. She didn't touch his cock, and it was slapping against his abdomen from the force of her thrusts, giving a whole new meaning to the term beating off.
Her breath rasped and he suspected there was a clitoral stimulator on the strap-on to get her off. But she didn't go over either, pulling out and stroking his chest, his sides again. She loved playing with him this way, and nothing he did swayed her from her course or rushed her. She would not be moved. She was the wall itself.
Like a goddess who had all eternity to play with her creation in her workshop.
He was panting, his body quivering. He'd stopped trying to tell her what he wanted to do to her. She removed the gag, her fingers deftly slipping the strap and plucking out the ball wrapped in the soaked kerchief.
"What do you want?" she asked in a voice that gave nothing away. It was full of emotion, but he couldn't latch onto a single one to identify and use it.
"Please. Let me give you pleasure. Please." He couldn't handle her doing it as she'd done it before, driving him to climax and then handling her own needs, denying him the right...the privilege.
