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“A little discomfort is good for your soul, girl. Not too much longer now, and we can get you off your perch. I imagine that tight little bottom hole of yours is getting nice and sore by now.”
If only he knew.
Fingertips delved between the splayed lips of her very wet pussy, and he chuckled as he noted her reluctant, but copious, arousal. “The fence never fails to get you dripping, no matter how hard I whip you beforehand. Makes me wonder if you’re more of an exhibitionist than I thought.”
The top rail of the fence, weathered wood that gave one splinters if you so much as looked at it, dug into the crook of her elbows. Her time on the fence usually consisted of backing her up against it, forcing her to thread her arms over the top rail, then bringing her hands between it and the lower rail. A length of cruel rope linked her wrists behind her back, ensuring her embrace of the scratchy, hard rail lasted just as long as Max decreed.
But he was never satisfied with only that.
Once her arms were out of the way, he’d gone to work on her feet, lifting them up and lashing them securely to the lower rail, the position splitting her bottom wide open, the stress on her entire body steadily worse by the minute, until her muscles trembled with it.
That she was naked as the day she was born, and displayed outside in broad daylight, trussed up for all to see like a prize from a hunting expedition, was the very least of her problems.
Even then he wasn’t quite done.
Cooing at her wordlessly, he wrapped harsh rope around and around each of her breasts, until they throbbed and ached, not stopping until their color began to darken slightly under the stricture. Pinching each of her nipples until she whined, he affixed clamps to both, the bite of the jaws hot pain that took long minutes to be anything less than unbearable.
“Much better,” he’d murmured, flicking the cruel devices crushing her nipples between their jaws.
To finish off her display of degradation, he’d gone back inside the house, returning a minute later with a swatch of fabric clutched in his fist. The scent, all around her, filling her nostrils, confirmed what they were as he stuffed it in her mouth, the taste slightly sour upon her tongue.
They were a soiled pair of her own panties.
He’d grinned at her, stepping back once the thin strap had been affixed across her mouth, trapping the fragrant underwear in her mouth. “Found those in your room. I think you were wearing them the night I fucked your pussy last, too. Especially, uh, pungent, aren’t they? Should do the trick I think.”
The slap of his heavy hand against her helplessly presented ass snapped her back to the present. “Now let’s see if you can do as you’re told from your perch, girl.”
She gasped as his fingers stroked, then splayed the swollen and helplessly displayed lips of her sex. “What a sight for sore eyes,” he murmured. “I love how pink this pussy looks in the bright sunlight. And, my God, you are just dripping, Kels.”
A soft whine escaped from behind her gag, and she closed her eyes against the embarrassment for a moment. Even as he liked to gently shame her for her excitement, the simple act of him doing so, of highlighting her body’s reaction to his treatment, only increased her arousal.
His finger dipped inside her, drawing up, then down within her slit, teasing her. She wanted him to press it deep inside, but she could neither beg for it, nor even push her hips against him. She was utterly helpless to whatever he had planned for her next.
A tractor-trailer roared by on the highway, and she jerked in her bonds at both the jarring noise, and the fright that someone might see her lashed to that fence out in the broad daylight. Yes, up the hill where the driveway intersected with the highway was a decent distance away, but to her mind it was still much too close. All a driver had to do would be to turn their head as they passed, and they’d see the lurid tableau taking place along Max’s fence line at his front yard. Perhaps it would be a bit too far away to make out all the details, but it would be more than enough for them to know exactly what was being done to her.
His strong hands took hold of her hips then, and she tensed, her breath catching in her lungs as his cock pushed inside her pussy. She blew out a long, moaning breath, his thickness stretching her out as it always did.
“That’s my sweet girl,” he murmured. “Doesn’t that feel better? After that nasty whipping? Oh, fuck, all the way in now. Good. You’re so wet, sweetie. You like this, don’t you? Do you like my cock in that pussy of yours?”
She nodded frantically as much as her bonds allowed, moaning again. She didn’t expect he was going to grant her this, and though it was by no means easy to take him in this position, it still felt incredibly good, to be so full of him, to let go; the stricture of her bonds, while cruel, also allowing her the total freedom to let this happen, to give in to the pleasure, the shame, and the animal lust Max’s use of her body never ceased to stir within her.
His jeans pressed against her ass as he settled fully inside her, confirming all he’d bothered to do was unzip his fly. Somehow him being fully clothed, while she was naked, bound, and gagged, lashed to the fence, deepened the degradation for her, the sense that she was his possession whose only purpose was his use, to take his pleasure with.
She shuddered as he began a slow, languid thrusting within her. He angled his hips on each inward lunge ensuring his cock brushed the front wall of her sex, then pressed firmly to her cervix. The former made her shudder in deep pleasure; the latter was wonderful and painful all at once. He knew how to use her body’s reactions like the composer of a symphony, driving her lust, deepening her submission, and strengthening her utter devotion to him with every day she spent under his thumb.
That didn’t make her service to him easy—not at all. But even that was something she wanted, reveled in, even if it was sometimes a trial, and something she would always have trouble accepting as part of her sexual makeup. But he’d helped her there, too, in showing her that he wanted, and loved, all of her, even the dark, twisted parts of her. Perhaps those most of all.
His hand squeezed her ass firmly, the other yanking on the rope linked to the hook spearing her anus. She gasped at the renewed discomfort stirred within her as the broad steel ball moved inside her ass.
Within seconds, he was thrusting away at a crisp pace, his heavy balls slapping against her clit repeatedly, the invasion of the steel ball inside her bottom, and the thick cock plundering her cunt already bringing her close to the edge of orgasm.
“Mmm cohssee!” she groaned through her gag. She was always to tell him when she was about to come, as she was never, ever allowed orgasm without his express permission. Which was only occasionally granted. That she had lost the ability to form coherent speech made complying with that requirement ever more difficult, but she also knew being gagged was no excuse at all for not letting him know she was in danger of tipping over.
“Does my cock feel good, hmm?” he taunted softly, showing absolutely no sign of backing off one bit as he continued to thrust inside her. “Are you almost there already? Do you want to come?” He smacked her ass sharply, pain blooming hot upon her skin. “Such a little slut. You can never get enough cock, can you?”
She mewled through her gag at that. Holding back was getting more difficult by the second, but she willed herself not to come.
Ah, God! So full!
