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“I’ll let you go at your own pace,” he said, “but I expect you to completely seat yourself on the shaft. Take your time. You can do it.”
Oh God, that was easy for him to say. I inched backward, feeling the shaft slide deeper. It hadn’t hurt at first, but as I sunk lower, I felt my ass stretch to accommodate the added width.
“It’s starting to hurt,” I said through my teeth.
“It’s not going to feel comfortable, but it’s not that thick.” His tone was firm and immovable. “You can take it, even if it hurts.”
I pressed down again, feeling my hole stretch around the dildo even as it ached at the invasion. At last my ass cheeks rested against the chair’s base, and I was fully impaled. I could feel the shaft deep inside me, holding me trapped in a way cuffs couldn’t.
I still got cuffed, though. He spread my legs over the chair’s “wings” and secured each thigh with a strap around the top of my knee. My wrists were buckled into cuffs at the sides of the chair. I was bound tight, my tensing ass impaled, my breasts and pussy exposed to his meditative gaze.
“Now…” He picked up the nipple clamps. “Let’s see what we can do to make you squirm.”
I eyed the clamps, already flinching. Sitting still on the shaft was bad enough. Once he made me start squirming… I steeled myself as he pinched my nipples, preparing them to be clamped.
“I’m using more severe clamps than last time,” he said, “since this will be a more severe session. The good thing is that you’re too bound to fight when the pain comes.”
I gave a whine of fear as he opened the first clamp, which was indeed larger and heavier than the previous pair he’d used. He closed it on my nipple and my whole body curled in a wave of white-hot agony. My hips surged upward, the dildo sliding in my ass as I bucked up and down.
“That was just one,” he said as I gasped. “Don’t be a baby. You came here of your own free will, Sparkles. Suck it up.”
He applied the other clamp and my ass contracted again on the dildo impaling me. He gave the clamps’ connecting chain a tug, making me squeal at the added pinch of pressure, then left it to dangle between my breasts.
I wanted to beg him to stop, but I also didn’t want him to stop, because even though it hurt, it excited me. I took deep breaths, trying to process the torturous nipple clamps as my ass squeezed at the pain. So much for being an anal virgin. I already felt like I was being fucked there. A butt plug, at least, had a narrowed neck at the end, before the flange. This dildo-chair arrangement kept me open as wide as the dildo’s base, all the time.
Like being fucked. Because he’s probably going to fuck you there by the end of this hour.
I couldn’t think about that now, because I knew the girth of his cock was more than the size of the dildo. I studied his face, trying to guess what was going on in his sadistic brain. He picked up the crop, a long, braided handle tipped by a wicked-looking leather slapper. “This won’t leave any lasting marks,” he said, running it up my inner thigh. “So don’t worry about that.”
He started flicking my inner thighs with the slapper. It didn’t hurt an excruciating amount, but it hurt enough to make me jump, and yes, squirm. As I pressed back from the pain, I felt the shaft slide deeper in my ass. When I threw my head back, gritting my teeth, the crop attacked my breasts. I shifted from side to side, trying to evade the stinging blows, but my arms were bound and each jerk made the clamps bite harder.
“This is awful,” I cried. “It really hurts.”
“Poor baby.” He smiled as he said this, enjoying my distress. He returned to my thighs, flicking them hard, repeatedly, not hard enough to leave bruises but hard enough for a searing heat to build between my legs. My thighs turned pink, then scarlet as the torture continued.
“Ow, ow, owww.” I barely felt the shaft anymore, the pain in my thighs was so much greater, but the smallest shift increased the clamps’ pressure and made my nipples scream. I tried to pull my legs together, but the straps over my knees prevented me from moving them more than an inch or two.
“No,” he said, tapping the crop beneath my chin. “Look at me. Legs stay open, exposing yourself to me. You’re mine.”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied with tears in my eyes. “But it hurts.”
“I don’t care. Let me see your pussy.”
I obeyed, arching my hips as far forward as the straps would allow. He paused to slide his fingers through my pussy lips. I wasso wet. I must have been soaking his chair, my juices as shiny as the lube he’d put on the shaft.
“Ah, you want this,” he said, sounding satisfied. “You love to be hurt.”
I shook my head, grimacing through tears, but my body obviously loved it on some level. He shoved two rough fingers inside my pussy, plunging them in and out as I bobbed on the shaft in my ass. Just like that, I was about to climax. He must have known because he shook his head with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“No, you’re not allowed to come yet. I’m not done with you.”
He took his fingers away, stood, and replaced his caressing digits with a prod of the crop against my slit. “What are we learning about Juliet today?” he asked. “That she’s an anal slut? That she likes anal better than getting fucked in her cunt?”
I shook my head. I didn’t think that was true, but he only laughed, then he flicked my pussy three times with the crop. Left, right, middle. With each flick, I tossed on the impaling dildo, trying to escape the punishment. Then he crossed to my other side and grasped my neck with one hand, making me hold still. More force, more dominance, and then agonizing slaps of fire on my pussy. He swung the crop hard, catching my pussy lips and my clit, making them burn. When I tried to twist away, he held my neck harder, running his hand across my throat.
“Take it,” he said in a low, encouraging voice.
Whack. Whack. Oww, oh my God, I can’t. Whack. Whack. Whack.
