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Thank you.
Two in my tight fucking asshole now, and it hurts like hell, oh God, it hurts. But I’m distant from it. Someone’s playing with my sore clit, and it makes it nice, it makes it so nice.
Thank you.
My wrists are pulled high, chains hooked on a winch, and they raise me, my filthy body dangling like meat.
It’s so easy to fuck me here, one at the back, one at the front, and I watch them, I watch them even as my wrists are burning with the pressure. I feel everything, I want everything.
And then there is him. Master.
He spits in my face and I’m so grateful I almost come for him.
“Please, sir,” I beg. “Please fuck me.”
“No,” he whispers, and slaps my pussy. “Dirty girl hasn’t pleased me. She hasn’t given enough.”
It breaks my heart.
“Please,” I cry. “Let me please you.”
He shakes his head and twists my sore tits, even as a fresh cock is filling up my asshole.
“You disappoint me.” His fingers are on my cheeks, wiping my tears. “I was going to take you, sweet bird, I was going to take you and love you, but you have not been good for me.”
“I’ve been trying so hard,” I say, and I have. I have tried so hard.
He shakes his head. “You held back, Magpie, I know you did. Don’t lie to your master, tell me you held back.”
A sob, a desperate sob. “I’m sorry, Master, Vincent. I held back.”
“One final chance,” he says. “For our guests, pretty bird. You have disappointed them.”
“Thank you! I won’t hold back!” And I’m smiling, grateful.
He lowers me onto the bed, and this time I won’t fail. I’m hungry, begging, forcing myself onto fat cocks before they can even position me. I lick and I suck, and I grind and I moan and I beg, and I give everything. Everything. Every. Fucking. Thing.
I give everything until I’m a twitchy used mess, in a slippery pool of filth. My hair is slick and my lips are crusty, my asshole is on fire and my pussy is too sore to touch.
And then it’s over. There is no more.
Vincent approaches and my heart soars to see he is smiling. He takes off my cuffs and kisses my forehead and I could burst with relief and joy.
“That’s my good girl,” he says. “Wasn’t that beautiful?”
I’m nodding, beaming, delirious and full of love.
“Yes, Vincent, Master, it was beautiful. Thank you.”
He holds me tight and it feels so nice.
“I’m so proud, sweet bird. So very proud.” He forces my eyes to his. “Do you know what this means?”
I shake my head, I have no idea what it means.
“It means that all of our lovely guests have already agreed to come back next week. All of them, Magpie, what a perfect treasure you are.” His eyes search mine. “That’s good, isn’t it? Isn’t that wonderful?”
And I nod. I smile. I daren’t let him see my tears, in case he takes his love away.
