Love by the Numbers
By Ladyvet
Trickles of sweat ran into my eyes, stinging them, blurring our reflections in
the mirrored wall. I couldn't wipe them. All I could do was blink and wait for
my tears to soothe them. I was tightly restrained between the pillars, shoulders
aching, arms stretched straight out from my sides. I studied our blurry
reflections, intrigued by the contrast between His muscular black nakedness and
my slender, half dressed pale blondeness. I looked into His reflected eyes and
nodded. The whip slammed against my back and curled around my ribs, tracing a
line of fire just below my breasts. I bit down on the ball gag and screamed
silently in my head. The welt turned crimson immediately. I still felt only pain
but I knew the pleasure would follow once the pain became intense enough. He
waited patiently for me to nod again, requesting another blow.
He shows me the whips he's selected before we begin a scene and tells me how
many lashes he'll inflict with each so I can pace myself. It could be over
quickly or take hours; it's up to me to determine the timing of His blows, how
long my pleasure/pain will last. The only exception is a thin cane, which He
sometimes uses on my breasts. He may strike them many times or just a few. I
dread even a single blow from it. More even than the physical pain, I dread
hearing Him tell me He's punishing them for being ugly. He'd already used the
horsetail whisk, a crop, a cat and a buggy whip on my naked torso, ignoring my
sweaty, still-clothed lower body. I'd counted the lashes to my back and stomach.
I knew the next would come from a different, heavier whip, one that would really
hurt. I felt the first, faint stirring of pleasure in anticipating the pain.
He worked my tight, sweat soaked jeans and panties down to my feet. I hate the
humiliation of being restrained with my clothes around my ankles but He likes me
this way. My useless clothing emphasizes my helplessness and confirms His
complete dominance over me. I spread my thighs as far as I could and moved my
hips, begging Him to caress me. He pressed His hardness against my ass, reached
around me and touched me just above my clit, where the top of the barbell stud
protruded from my flesh. I moved against His fingertip, trying to get Him to rub
the slick, hot flesh around my clit. I could no longer stand to have it
stimulated directly. The thick, rough-textured stud running the length of my
clit inside the hood keeps it raw, supersensitive, a little trickle of
excitement ready to turn into a torrent of pain at even the lightest touch. It
made me think of a rabid dog, obsessed with water but unable to approach it. The
ring bumped His hand and drowned my pleasure in a flood of agony. I couldn't
bear another touch! I thrust myself back, away from His finger.
He wasn't ready to let me experience the last whip. Andre lifted my breasts by
their rings and jiggled them until my nipples darkened and contracted. Satisfied
that my attention was focused on my breasts, He picked up the dreaded cane and
slashed the air with it like a rapier, dashing my hopes that He would spare me.
The cane was unbearable before I developed a tolerance for it. Now it was merely
excruciating. My breasts had always been sensitive. Andre's discipline had made
them much more so. Having them fondled and sucked had given me incredible
pleasure on the rare occasions when I let a boy do it. I got even more from
slapping and squeezing them ut I couldn't ask a boy to abuse me. I had enough
trouble getting dates with my thin, too-long legs and boyish hips. Who'd date me
if the word got around that I was some sort of freak as well?
Andre's touch intensified the ever-present ache in the centers of my breasts and
started my arousal! He flexed the cane and let me anticipate the pain before He
smacked the upper contour of my left breast. Unlike a whip which burned the
surface of my skin, the cane instantly thrust its energy deep into the tissue to
form a pulsing, aching knot. I looked down at my breast, surprised as always
that the cane hurt so terribly while leaving such a slight mark on my skin. The
bruises took a while to surface. He smacked it twice a bit lower, spreading the
ache downward to fill my nipple. I flinched and pulled back from the third blow.
It hit my nipple ring with a loud click.
"You know better than to move around!" He admonished. "Stand properly!" I took a
deep breath, arched my back and thrust out my chest.
"That's better. Act like you're proud of your pitiful, ugly little saggers."
That stung as much as the cane. I had never been proud of my tiny breasts but
they had at least been perky and pointed. Now I hated the way they looked. Andre
commanded me to hold still while He give me the extra discipline my flinching
had earned.
The next four blows landed at the top of the areola. I remained as still as I
could but the pain was so intense I couldn't help moving around. He waited
between blows for me to stop so He could place the cane precisely where He
wanted it. The final blow landed squarely on my nipple. The ring amplified the
pain, which overflowed my breast and soaked into my chest. Andre paused to let
me catch my breath before He caned the right side. Tears flooded my eyes, ran
down my cheeks and splashed my breasts. I felt every drop that landed on them.
He put aside the cane and stood behind me with the whip. My upper body pulsed
with agony but I needed still more pain to get where I needed to be. I needed
enough to fill my lower body, too. I nodded, asking Him for it, praying that it
wouldn't take too long to turn to pleasure. The sharp hiss of darting leather
sliced the silence. This blow fell across my ass. The supple leather wound
itself around my body and cracked loudly against my mons. It was hard enough to
have split the skin if I'd been shaven. The gag muffled my scream almost
completely, allowing only a hissing groan to disturb the quiet of the room.
The pain crawled upward to join the throbbing in my breasts and diffused through
my abdomen, fanning the embers between my legs. I nodded again. The whip struck
my upper back and wrapped around my chest. A new layer of pain flared through my
breasts. I watched the crimson welt spring up above my nipples. My breasts felt
like drops of liquid fire were running down them. The rings seemed to thicken as
my nipples contracted harder around them. Wetness began to ooze between my
labia. My clit still hummed like a tuning fork from His earlier touch. The pain
mixed with an intense tingling. I looked at His strong, beautiful body and
yearned to feel Him inside me. I squeezed my thighs together and surrendered to
the overpowering urge to rotate my hips. I needed Him so desperately now that I
couldn't have Him!
He needed me, too. His hardness proved that. He needed me, but not as much He
needed to dominate me. He derived great psychological pleasure from keeping me
aroused until He was ready to grant me release in a storm flying leather and
terrible pain that turned to pleasure only after it became nearly unbearable.
The ready warmth of my mouth and hands satisfied Him physically.
Our initial passion had cooled after several years of marriage. We were still in
love and committed to one another but we needed some variety to spice up our
relationship. Bondage had been my idea. It came to me while I lay beside Him
reading a very graphic bondage scene in a novel. I enjoyed having Andre hold my
wrists over my head while we made love. The thought of having sex with my hands
tied while His were free to do as He wished was a real turn on. I asked Him if
He'd ever tried bondage. He put down the brief and looked at me as if I'd lost
my mind.
"Isn't that sort of thing for sickos?"
"Not necessarily," I replied. "I'm not one, am I?" He mumbled something and went
back to work. I put the book away and lay there for a while but I was too
aroused to sleep. I rubbed His thigh. He ignored me. I'd given Him head that
morning so I was the only one who was horny. I got up, took a couple of silk
scarves from the dresser, went into the bathroom and tied them around my wrists.
He didn't even look up when I returned. I slipped under the covers, took Him in
my mouth and sucked Him to hardness. That got His attention! He loved to finish
in my mouth. I stopped when He tensed and started to tremble, put my head on the
pillow, smiled at Him and said "good night." He pushed the blanket down and
gripped himself.
"Come on, Catherine, quit teasing me. Finish what you started."
I shook my head. "Not tonight. I'm not in the mood." I put my hands behind my
head so He could see the scarves.
"You were serious about wanting me to tie you up, weren't you?"
I wrapped my fingers around the headboard and said "that's the only way you're
getting any tonight, Lover!" He tied the right scarf under the knob near the top
of the bedpost, looped the other one around the left bedpost and pulled it so
hard He dragged me sideways, stretching my arms so tightly that they didn't even
touch the bed. He knotted the right scarf and asked me how I liked it so far. A
wave of delicious excitement surged through me when I tried to move my arms! I
was totally helpless! I squirmed beneath Him, pulled Him against me with my legs
and begged Him to make love to me. He did, so long and hard I was sore for a
week. I got hot all over again just looking the purple-green bruises on my
wrists during the next few days! I was sorry when they faded. I loved the entire
bondage experience; surrendering myself, allowing Andre to have me, control me
and yes, even hurt me if He wished. He loved it even more.
The nipple rings were also my idea. Andre was a self- proclaimed leg man but He
never missed an opportunity to ogle a well developed chest. It really got on my
nerves one day when I caught Him soon after we were married. I confronted Him.
"Can you explain why you married me if big tits are such a turn on?" He laughed
and replied (only half jokingly, I thought) that my legs made the rest bearable.
I was happy that He liked my legs but "the rest" felt left out. It made me
jealous when He admired other women's breasts. I wanted to do something to make
Him pay attention to mine. Augmentation surgery was definitely out. Andre said
big plastic ones would turn Him on less than my little, flat ones did. It hurt
my feelings but I understood the problem. How could I expect Him to be turned on
by my breasts when I hated the way they looked, too? We saw a woman with pierced
nipples in a video. Andre commented on how sexy they looked. It was worth a try.
We both loved the way they looked and the way they made my nipples stand out. We
jumped into bed as soon as we got home from having it done. He accidentally
pulled one while we were making love and to our surprise, the pain gave me an
instant, intense orgasm. It wasn't lost on Him. Andre got hooked on body jewelry
as quickly as He had on bondage. We had two rings placed in each of my inner
labia a month later. Andre had a chain chastity belt made for me that circled my
waist, passed through my labial rings and locked to the ones in my nipples. It
made masturbation difficult and wearing a bra and using tampons impossible. He
reveled in the endless discomfort and embarrassment it caused me and forbid me
leave the house without it.
I padded the chains where they pressed into the tops of my hip bones with strips
of silk. Andre forbid me to put anything between the chain and my clit and
labia.
I resisted when He told me that He wanted me to have my clit hood pierced but He
was adamant that we commemorate our first anniversary that way. I wanted a small
ring which would nestle unobtrusively in the folds of my labia. He chose a
barbell stud with a small diamond pattern like a nail file positioned so that it
lay along the top of my clit with one ball against the head and the other
exiting at the top of my labial fold. It hurt constantly for the first few
weeks, then the pain subsided to wait coiled and ready for a touch to awaken it
so it could sink its needle sharp fangs into me. Even worse, the stud caused an
insistent tingling, which goaded me to brave the pain and touch myself. The
rings and stud kept me terminally horny. The stud stimulated me when I walked or
sat. Every activity was an erotic adventure!
I was always ready to make love and I always climaxed when we did.
Unfortunately, Andre wasn't nearly as anxious to have sex. I bought a vibrator
and used it each afternoon after work. I couldn't always achieve a climax by
holding it against the chain through my labial rings but that was all I could
do. My clit was too sensitive to stimulate directly.
Andre came home early one day and caught me. He seized the plastic phallus from
me and dropped it, still buzzing, on the rug next to the bed. I opened my legs
and begged Him to unlock me and make love to me. He wasn't in the mood. He lay
down beside me without touching me and asked, "what's the matter, Catherine?
Couldn't you wait until I got home?"
Very funny! He knew how incredibly aroused I was all the time and that I needed
a lot more attention than He was giving me. Even worse, He'd gotten heavily into
having me satisfy Him with my mouth, after which He expected me to make do with
His hand. It didn't satisfy me as completely as intercourse even when I managed
to come. It was the sexual equivalent of Chinese food; I was horny again an hour
later. I told Him so, ending with "This isn't working for me. The stud and
chastity belt are driving me crazy and so are you! I want to get rid of them and
go back to the way we were." He listened impassively. I nuzzled His neck and
wrapped my hand around His cock. "I need this and a lot of it!" He took my face
between His hands and shook His head. The vibrator's faint, mindless buzzing
accentuated the silence between us. Damn Him! I let Him go and pushed His hands
away.
"Fine, Andre! You can damned well get used to getting yourself off, too!" He put
my hand back on His cock and held it there.
"No, Catherine, I like things just the way they are. I want you to need me all
the time and be ready for me whenever I want you." He jerked the chains in my
nipple rings and kissed me with fierce intensity. "I mean it! You'll stay as you
are!" His cock twitched in my hand. The smug, self assured SOB! Of all the men
in the world, I had to love Him! He always got His way and we both knew it! I
returned His kiss and nodded. He removed the chastity from my nipple rings and
pulled it free of the ones in my labia. I climbed on top of Him with the tight
waist chain still in place. He cupped me with His thumbs through my rings so He
could squeeze my breasts and stretch my nipples at the same time and demanded
"Agreed?"
"OK, you bastard," I conceded. "I'll put up with it but only for a while." I
maneuvered Him into me and slid down His cock until He filled me. He used to
love it when I rode Him but He wasn't in the mood that day. It took Him a couple
of minutes of stretching and contortions to fasten the restraints around my
wrists and tie them tightly enough so that all I could do was lie on top of Him
with my knees beside His thighs. He used the waist chain to hold me still while
He moved in me. Even then, I was so horny I came before He did. He stayed under
me for a while after we finished and let our wetness run out around Him to soak
His stomach and balls. Even soft, He felt wonderful inside me and it was great
to be satisfied for a change. We lay connected in silence until He squirmed out
from under me. Andre ignored me when I asked Him to free me to use the bathroom.
He picked up the still-buzzing vibrator and dropped it on the pillow next to my
head. He left the bathroom door open so I could hear Him urinate. He returned
with the shower curtain, shoved it under me, pulled my legs straight out toward
the corners of the bed and restrained my ankles so tightly I couldn't move. I
turned my face away from the sex toy and spent the night fighting to control my
bladder. I lost the battle the next morning. He dialed my office and held the
handset for while I told them I was ill, then He stood next to the bed, arms
folded, waiting. I could only cry in humiliation when my hot urine splashed
against my thighs and pooled under me. He left me there for a few more hours to
make His point; He was totally in charge.
I was sure that He'd get over His obsession with keeping me chained, aroused and
unsatisfied and move on to other sex play. I was only right about the first
part. He refused to let me ride Him again. In fact, He stopped making love to me
for over a month, withholding himself, at first, to punish me for my impudence
but later because He got completely into oral sex while watching me rub myself
off. We didn't even really make love when He started having intercourse with me
again; He just masturbated inside me. He'd restrain me spread eagle, jerk off
until He was almost ready to finish, then he'd fuck me just long enough to come
inside me. Once He was satisfied, he'd finger me until I was half out of my mind
then free one of my wrists, lie back and enjoy the show. I refused to do it the
first time.
"OK, Catherine, suit yourself," He said agreeably and retied my wrist. "Let me
know when you change your mind." I lay there feeling sorry for myself for a
while, then I called Him and surrendered my last shred of self respect. Anything
was better than lying there until I wet myself again! I actually enjoyed
masturbating for Him once I relaxed and let my horniness overcome my modesty. I
brought myself to a wet, noisy, climax, mixing my juices with His, after which
He retied my wrist and fucked my mouth. He used a cock ring during oral sex to
prolong His pleasure and make it harder for me to get Him off. That was our
routine until He decided to explore my need for pain and His to inflict it.
We bought our first whip, followed closely by a dozen others which He quickly
learned to use with skill and finesse. We completely submerged ourselves in our
respective Dominant and submissive roles. As newlyweds, we had enjoyed long
sessions of oral sex, then made love until we experienced simultaneous orgasms.
Now He restrained and whipped me before He entered me to have His first, fast
climax only to withdraw, leaving me desperate for satisfaction. I longed to come
while we made love but He wouldn't permit it. Andre got more pleasure from
leaving me hanging on the edge than He did from coming himself. He now left me
in restraint after His first orgasm, refusing to stimulate me with His mouth or
hands, getting high again on my thwarted desire. He'd lie with His body against
mine and play with my rings until my arousal kindled His passion again. When He
was finally ready to enjoy another climax, He'd free my hands so I could
masturbate with one and massage Him with the other until He was ready to finish
in my mouth. I always tried to make myself come at the same moment He did. It
was more satisfying. It made me feel closer to Him.
My life changed completely on the night of our fourth anniversary. He was so
attentive and sweet that I knew He had something special planned. He made me
wait all evening before letting me in on it. He whipped me more cruelly than
ever, then He freed me, laid me on my back on the cool, comforting silk sheet,
restrained me with my hands over my head and legs spread wide and brought me to
the brink with His tongue. It had been a long time since He'd done that and I
came incredibly hard as soon as entered me. He kept on making love to me,
slowly, tenderly, withholding His own climax while I enjoyed wave after wave of
ecstasy. It was the best sex I'd ever had! I lay back afterward, still in
restraint, sipping champagne from a glass which He held to my lips, basking in
the afterglow and looking forward to the prospect of more lovemaking. The tight
cock ring had done its job. He was still rock hard.
"Happy, Baby?" He asked, patting me between my legs. He looked at my wetness on
His hand and laughed. "Get enough?"
"God, yes! That was so good!" I replied and licked His chest. "That's what I've
been needing all this time!" I thought we were back to normal.
"That's great. Now its time for our anniversary present." He held two ornate,
circular gold locks in front of my face.
"We're going to start the next phase of our lives tonight," He said softly and
kissed me. "Do you love me enough to submit to me completely?"
"I already have," I replied, tugging at the tight restraints for emphasis. "What
else do you want me to do to prove it?"
He pulled my nipple rings and squeezed and kissed my breasts, rekindling my
passion like lightening striking a tinder-dry tree.
"Accept these as a symbol of your submission."
"In place of the damned chastity belt?" I asked hopefully.
"You might say that," He replied. He turned the locks over. They had no
keyholes. "I'm going to close you permanently, Catherine."
"What are you talking about? That's crazy! How can we make love if you do that?"
I demanded fearfully. I tugged futilely against the restraints. Andre ignored my
fear, kissed my nipples, put a finger inside me and rubbed the bumpy, swollen
place above my urethra which had replaced my clit as my primary erogenous zone
since the clit hood piercing.
He loosened the ropes on my ankles, retied them with a couple of inches of slack
and said "I'll let you move around a bit for an anniversary treat." Andre lay on
top of me and sank into me until He pressed hard against my cervix.
"Make the most if this, Catherine," He whispered and began to move inside me.
"Because you're right. We'll never be able to do this again." I pulled my knees
up as far as I could, braced my heels against the bed and moved with Him,
meeting His thrusts, matching His rhythm despite my rising panic. He had to be
teasing me! In the meantime, I needed this!
"You enjoy keeping me hot so much you don't want me to be able to come? Is that
what you want?" I had to concentrate on each word to form it. My head was
spinning from the mixture of fear and lust. He stroked harder. Drops of His
sweat fell on my face. He was close to coming.
"Hold still now, Catherine," He whispered hoarsely. I raised my hips, tilted my
pelvis and stopped moving. He liked me to remain completely still when He was
this close to His orgasm. He enjoyed feeling my vagina clench around him,
milking him. He could control His climax better if I didn't move. He smiled down
at me, enjoying my trembling struggle to please Him. His body slapped against
mine as He rammed himself into me.
"I'll train you to come while I whip you," He said "but if you can't learn to, I
don't want you to come at all!" He jammed himself tight against me and stopped
thrusting. I couldn't stand it! I had to move even though He didn't want me to.
I was so afraid that He wouldn't let me finish! I fought the ankle restraints.
If I could only free my legs, I could wrap them around Him and hold Him inside
me. The ropes mocked me. I clamped down on Him as hard as I could and pumped
furiously. I had to show Him how good making love with me could be. Maybe He'd
change His mind about closing me if I could make Him come. He teetered on the
brink of His orgasm and commanded me to hold still again. I couldn't even if I'd
wanted to.
"You don't really want to close me, do you?" I pleaded desperately between
gasps. "You can't tell me you aren't enjoying this!" He trembled and started to
pull back. I tried to hold Him with my knees but He withdrew just as I feared He
would! I kept moving under Him, searching desperately for His hardness but it
was hopeless. His mind was made up and He was too strong willed to give in. He
lay on top of me with His cock just touching my labia and squeezed my breasts.
"Don't stop making love to me, Baby," I pleaded. "I need you!"
"I need you, too" He replied and kissed me with a delicious mixture of passion
and tenderness "and I love you but from now on I only want you to serve me with
your hands and mouth. Will you do that for me?"
Unsatisfying as my love life was, it was still a lot to give up. A lot, I
decided but not too much, because I loved Him. I closed my eyes and nodded. He
made me hold the locks while he removed my labial rings. My unsatisfied passion
burned like a jagged, white hot meteor in my stomach. I was half out of my mind!
He took one lock from my hand, pushed it through the piercings where the top set
of rings had been and locked it. The click sounded as loud as a pistol shot. Oh,
God! He was actually going through with it!
"Please don't leave me this way, Andre!" I screamed in desperation. "You can't
be this cruel!" He shook His head.
"At least finish making love to me before you put the other lock in," I pleaded.
I raised my knees and rotated my pelvis. He ignored me and took the other lock
from my hand.
"Then let me use my hand! You like to watch me do that!"
"No," He said with finality. "The next time you come, if there is a next time,
it will be by my whip!" He forced the second lock into my burning, slippery
flesh and closed it. The locks pinched me so tightly I wondered if I'd be able
to urinate. I looked at His cock through my tears, wanting Him terribly despite
the pain of the locks and the impossibility of making love to Him or, perhaps,
because of them.
"Damn, they look great!" He exclaimed. I raised my head and tried to sit up to
see them but I couldn't. I felt them, though! They felt incredibly heavy and
thick! He freed my right hand, pressed my fingers tips against them, then He put
my hand on His cock and commanded me to jerk Him off while He admired His
handiwork. He ordered me to masturbate to orgasm after He splashed His come
against my closed passage. I spread His slick come on my aching, swollen labia
and around my clit and rubbed myself but I couldn't achieve an orgasm despite my
need.
"One other thing, Catherine," He said as I trembled on the brink. "Never touch
yourself between your legs without permission."
It had been over five years since the night we made love for the last time and
He closed me with my unsatisfied passion still burning but I could still
recreate every sensation of our lovemaking and relive them in my mind. I nodded
and concentrated on the memory of His thick cock filling me, stretching me,
pressing against my cervix as we strained against one another. The whip smacked
against my upper thighs, searing them like a red hot iron. I pushed my ass back
toward Him and nodded again. I was only dimly aware of the pain the next time it
bit into me. It submerged almost completely in the rising tide of liquid heat
bubbling and churning in my lower belly. My body was lubricating heavily now,
mindlessly preparing to receive what I needed so terribly but could never have.
Wetness trickled down the insides of my thighs. I ground them together and
rotated my hips, concentrating on the sensation of the thick, tight circles of
gold moving in me.
He had dealt me three blows with the last whip He would use tonight. If I failed
to come during the remaining seven, He would punish me by leaving me there until
morning, painfully stretched, desperate for satisfaction, half out of my mind
with desire. His greatest thrill was making me come this way, writhing in pain
and ecstasy while He whipped me. He sometimes came Himself just by doing it. I
seldom failed to have an orgasm that way now but the prospect of failure was so
awful I hated even thinking about it. Memories of endless nights of anguish and
frustration between the pillars were terribly vivid. I nodded twice. He
crisscrossed my ass with a burning X. I couldn't hold still. My entire body
trembled with the strength of my needs. He knew how close I was to coming and
would bring me to the very brink, then force me to wait until I thought I
couldn't without dying.
He walked around in front of me, draped the whip around my neck and let it hang
down my back. The lights reflected from His ebony skin, burnished with sweat and
oil. His cock stood out defiantly, mocking me with its readiness to enter me if
only I had been able to accept Him. He studied my face while I looked at it,
enjoying my longing and lust, then He smiled and massaged himself. I turned my
face upward, inviting His kiss or slap. I never knew which it would be, nor did
it matter since the effect was the same. I moaned and moved my head from side to
side, pleading with my eyes for Him to remove the ball gag. My jaw ached from
being forced open for so long but my mouth ached even more for His probing
tongue to explore it or His cock to fill it. Sucking Him off was a substitute
for intercourse for both of us. Having Him come in my mouth intensified my
physical need for Him but it partially satisfied my psychological need to have
Him inside me. He let go of Himself and unbuckled the leather strap behind my
head. Instead of removing it, He pulled it tighter, forcing it into my cheeks,
pulling back the corners of my mouth. Saliva seeped around the straps and ran
down my chin. He licked my parched, swollen lips with the tip of His tongue then
He dropped the straps. They hung from the corners of my mouth like a bridle. I
tried to force the ball out of my mouth with my tongue but it remained lodged
behind my teeth.
Andre massaged my aching shoulders, then ran His hands up and down my
sweat-slick ribs from hips to armpits, just grazing the outer edges of my
breasts. I moved around, trying to get Him to massage them. The hard caning had
left them bruised and swollen. The ache had been joined by tingling warmth. They
felt like they were full of champagne bubbles. I desperately needed Him to touch
them.
"Are your ugly little sacks extra sensitive, Catherine?" He asked. I nodded. He
slipped His fingers under them and rubbed my ribs. The light touches on their
undersides only made my longing worse.
"Do you need them rubbed?" I mumbled "Please!" but He kept His hands on my ribs,
letting me burn in vain for the feeling of His mouth and strong hands on my
breasts. Other than caning them, He seldom touched them except to pull and twist
my rings or swat them with a horsetail whisk, nor did He allow me to fondle
myself. He only caressed and enjoyed them through the rings, whips and cane. The
constant, deep ache inside them and the stimulation of the rings were a
permanent itch which I was forbidden, and He refused, to scratch.
He fastened a pair of chains with heavy balls on their ends to my nipple rings,
stretched them out to the sides and let them drop so they bounced off one
another sending vibrations deep into the centers of breasts to resonate in my
womb. I spread my knees and nodded frantically. I'd be able to come more easily
if He'd take off my clothes so I could move my legs.
He pulled off my jeans and panties. I spread my legs and ground myself against
Him, savoring the sensation of His thick, rough chest hair on my breasts and His
hardness pressing against my thigh. He penetrated my anus with a finger tip,
then a second. I relaxed and He slid His fingers in. I moved on His hand without
permission, unable to remain still. I knew He didn't want me to come that way
but I nearly managed to before He removed His fingers. He would allow only the
fiery caress of His whip to grant me release. I spread my thighs and maneuvered
Him between them, trapping Him. He hugged me, crushing my aching, tingling
breasts against His hard chest. We moved in slow imitation of intercourse,
rubbing my locks against His hardness.
I locked my ankles behind His knees and grapevined Him, pressing against His
spear of flesh. I forced myself down on Him, trying to tear myself open so He
could slide into me. He let me rub myself against Him while He kissed my throat
and whispered softly in my ear.
"That's it, take my cock, Catherine," He urged. I pushed down so hard He bent a
bit. He kissed my ear and reminded me that I was forbidden to have anything
inside me.
"Besides, you usually manage to come this way and it's much more interesting for
Me." I savored the sweet torture of His hardness against me, knowing I'd never
be able to make love again no matter how much I needed to. The only things He
allowed to stimulate me between my legs were a whisk or crop on those rare
occasions when He punished and rewarded me for something special or my own
careful, anxious fingers when He allowed me to masturbate for Him. The pressure
of His cock was at once incredibly exciting and horribly frustrating!
Andre pulled away before I could come from the stimulation of His cock rubbing
against me. He attached restraints to my ankles. I shook my head and begged "No,
please don't!" against the ball. He ignored me. He pulled my legs so far apart
that tendons stood out in the hollows of my inner thighs, then He fastened the
chains to rings in the bases of the pillars. I turned my ankles in and pointed
my feet down to try to support myself. My toes barely touched the floor. He
knotted my hair to an overhead rope and tightened it, pulling my neck straight.
He liked to make it as hard as He could for me to move while I fought to come.
The additional discomfort and difficulty made my orgasms especially intense, as
did the fear of failing to attain one in such an awkward and painful position.
He put His palm against my mons just above my clit and massaged the softness
above my pubic bone with His finger tips. I tilted my hips and moved on His
hand. The stud slid painfully back and forth on my clit. An electric current
coursed through my entire body. His cock bobbed a few maddening inches away, its
head wet with my secretions. It was tantalizingly near yet impossibly far away,
denied to me forever by His metal and will. He massaged my inner thighs,
spreading the wetness of my excitement over their softness. I trembled
uncontrollably. He tugged on the wet locks, savoring their hardness and my body
heat in them with one hand and held His cock with the other.
"I wish we could make love tonight, Catherine! You'd be incredibly tight after
doing without for so long. I'd love to put this inside you!" I stared at it and
tried to rotate my hips. I couldn't catch my breath; I was smothering with
desire.
"Rub me around my clit!" I begged with my eyes. "Let me finish!" He knew exactly
how I needed to be stimulated from watching me do it to myself.
"Hold still and don't let yourself come," He warned. "Shake your head to let me
know when to stop." He pulled my labia apart above the first lock to expose my
clit and rubbed the red, wet skin around it. Bolts of electricity sizzled into
my womb and nipples. The area around my clit was extra sensitive now that I
couldn't penetrate myself or touch the hard little lump of nerves itself. I
stared at His bounding cock, clenched my vaginal muscles and shivered with
uncontrollable desire.
"You want to finish against my fingers, don't you Catherine?" He teased "but
what you really need is this!" He pressed His cock against my labia, dug His
fingers into my ass cheeks and pulled me against Him. I struggled to spread my
legs wider, instinctively trying to open myself to Him despite the utter
futility of it; no matter how far apart my legs were, the locks would never
permit me to have Him. They burned as though they were suddenly red hot. I
screamed against the gag and moved on Him.
"That's it, Catherine, try to take me." I screamed again and struggled harder.
My whole world consisted only of His cock and my throbbing need for it. A little
contraction started in the tight, muscular ring in my lower vagina and rippled
upward into my womb. I was right on the edge! It took all my willpower to shake
my head.
"Hold back," He demanded and pulled away. "Don't let yourself come!" My orgasm
receded to wait like a coiled spring, leaving behind an aching void. He held His
hand in front of my face so I could see my wetness on His fingers, then He
spread it on my cheeks. Hot tears coursed out again. I screamed in helpless
agony and fought the restraints. That was what He'd been waiting for. He stepped
back so I could watch Him masturbate, tantalizing me with His own release while
denying mine. He smiled at me as He skinned His cock back to expose the bright
purple head. Andre squeezed His heavy sack and stroked himself slowly and
deliberately, enjoying my agony.
"Watch me come," He commanded, as if I could tear my eyes away! Andre pressed a
hand against His stomach and pumped His cock until His first thick jet splashed
onto my stomach. He pulled me against Him, imprisoning my trembling, straining
body in His powerful arms. We ground against each other while His cock twitched,
pumping out His sticky passion between our bodies. He crushed me to Him while He
came, then backed away to look at the milky smear on the blackness of His skin.
He gathered it in His hand, then He massaged it into my blond pubic hair and
said very softly "I remember how good it felt to be inside you, Catherine; how
it was when we came together." His smile was tinged with sadness. "I really miss
making love with you. Sometimes I'm sorry I closed you." He touched my locks
again and shook His head. "But that's over. Are you ready to try to have your
orgasm?"
I moaned in desperation and nodded, pleading for the searing pain which would,
hopefully, catapult me to ecstasy. I had to have my climax now or go mad! Andre
had a special surprise. He took the weighted chains off my nipple rings and
attached the loose gag straps to them, forcing me to stretch my nipples each
time I moved my head. He pulled the whip off my shoulders and stood behind me. I
fought against the rope in my hair and kept nodding my head, causing the blows
to fall in a hail of fire. I clenched my inner muscles as hard as I could and
jerked my head back. The straps pulled my nipples just as Andre's sharp teeth
used to, sending bolts of pleasure all the way into my womb. A wrenching spasm
wracked my body each time the whip bit into me. There was no pain now, only a
sudden flash of heat that fanned the consuming flames.
"Yes!" I screamed against the gag. "Yes!" Time slowed down. Reality receded like
the earth viewed from a rocket ascending into space. I floated out of my body to
study my tortured, straining reflection from a comfortable, almost clinically
detached distance. My eyes were completely feral, devoid of intelligence or any
emotion except lust. I no longer tried to support myself on tiptoes. I hung by
my wrists and hair, oblivious to the pain and struggled to spread my stretched
legs even wider.
I could even see inside my head! My conscious mind had disengaged, relinquishing
control to the primitive reptile brain buried deep beneath the more highly
evolved structures that usually controlled me. I knew what it wanted. I'd
ovulated a few days before and my egg was ready. The reptile brain flooded my
body with hormones to make me ready to breed and conceive. The little ball of
ancient tissue was wired to ensure survival of my line by making me pass on my
genes. It equated orgasm with the act of breeding. After all, millions of years
of evolution said that was how it worked! Excitement, sexual tension and the
hope of pleasure were a means to an end; to make sure I wanted to, had to breed.
It had no way of knowing whether or not sperm were swimming inside me but how
else could I have an orgasm except through penile stimulation? An orgasm would
be the reptile brain's proof that I had bred successfully.
Sinews stood out in my neck, arms and legs, forming little shadowed hollows. I'd
need incredibly intense stimulation to overcome my discomfort and have the
orgasm it awaited but the reptile brain wasn't concerned about it. I was already
as aroused as it could make me. It was happy to have me splayed, helpless to
resist a male or to retreat from Him. My immobility and widespread legs would
make penetration easier.
I studied my reflection, pleased by everything but my small, pendulous breasts.
My legs were slender now rather than skinny. My stomach was firm and flat. My
hips and ass were pleasantly rounded. Despite my mother's assurances that they'd
"come in," my breasts had never really developed. I'd always been embarrassed by
the way they looked and the teasing I'd gotten in school (the girls were even
crueler than the boys) and the intervening years and abuse had made them look
even worse. They drooped more now from being caned and from years of play rough
enough to make my nipples wet. Except for my nipples, they hardly even looked
like breasts. They were just pouches of skin that lay flat against my ribs,
nearly invisible beneath my clothing unless I wore a padded push-up bra. They
were prominent now, though, with the straps yanking them up into points. My
wrinkled, dark pink nipples were knots of jangling nerves. The reptile brain was
pleased by that, too. It approved of anything that would increase my excitement
and make me more inclined to breed! Several drops of lubricant oozed out,
collected on the locks and fell sparkling to the floor. The reptile brain knew
nothing of locks and closing and unsatisfied longing. It lived in a world of
chemicals and minute electrical signals which told it the job was nearly done.
It congratulated itself. As far as it was concerned, I was ready to take a male
deep inside myself and accept His sperm!
I drifted back inside my body. Andre waited patiently for me to request the
final blow. I met His reflected gaze and nodded. He drew the whip back and sent
it soaring slowly toward me. It changed into His cock as it came to me, black,
beautiful, fearful in its strength. The whip/cock floated lazily up between my
thighs and exploded against the rings in a fearful burst of pain and ecstasy!
I would feel the pain of that final cutting blow for days but now it only
heightened my pleasure. I pulled as hard as I could against the restraints and
pumped my hips, obeying the overpowering orgasmic urge to move in coital rhythm,
to milk my male; make Him bathe my egg with His sperm. Another little trickle
oozed out, propelled by my contractions. I felt hollow and full at the same
time! The clit ring massaged me like a fiery little tongue with each desperate
thrust of my hips.
A final, fierce paroxysm seized my straining body, squeezed out my breath and
pulled my breasts and womb together in a white-hot knot. It felt as though every
muscle in my body contracted at the same time! I fought the rope in my hair to
pull my head back, stretching my nipples enough to nearly tear out the rings. My
vaginal muscles strained to clamp tighter on the cock that should have been
filling me. I screamed against the gag and fought the restraints to escape the
terrible tension threatening to tear me apart. It dissipated suddenly, leaving
me suspended peacefully in space, enveloped in a swirling gray cloud. The bite
of the restraints and the fierce sting of physical longing ebbed away. His voice
seemed to come from a great distance even though He had His arms around me,
lovingly supporting my limp body.
"I love you, too!" I replied, forming the words in my mind just before I
surrendered to blackness. Somehow, I knew He heard me.
