Continues from 10. Surrender
Tied and spread-eagled on the bed, I waited and my hunger grew insatiable. I writhed captive to a desire that was constant and relentless. I craved the sensual touch of bare flesh on mine. My pussy thirsted for tongue, fingers, cock – hard burning cock – pounding me, beating me, whipping me inside, bursting its boiling molten lava seed deep within me.
I wanted to be enslaved. I wanted to be possessed, a tool, an instrument of pleasure forged on an anvil of desire and beaten into shape by a pounding, scorching hammer that brooked no mercy.
God, was I hot and ready…
Why didn’t they come for me? I pulled on the restraints but they held me tightly captive. I could hear the murmur of voices downstairs. I waited but no one came. Where were they?
I was burning hot and time seemed to have slowed. Was I in a fever or had I been drugged? I felt I was about to descend into a fantastic nightmare replete with hellish torments designed specifically to deliver me to the cruelest of agonies.
Disembodied moans and cries rose menacingly from below and I could hear angry shouts and cold mocking laughter. I sensed approaching menace. Distant voices conspired in whispers against me and footsteps became threatening portents of violence.
The footsteps were getting closer.
They were coming for me.
They were in the room.
I smelt sweat and sensed rage. Men? Were they the same ones who had attacked us this morning? I braced myself but everything happened with such speed that I had no time to think or react. One of them immediately sat on my chest and held me by the throat while the other removed my restraints and cuffed me. I was then picked up and thrown me on the bed face down. While one held my arms stretched out in front of me the other one shouted at me to spread my legs and took me from behind
His hard cock bore into me and pounded a deep brutal rhythm quite indifferent to my pain or pleasure. I submitted willingly enough – I wanted him to take me – but I sensed it was all empty bluster. He alone could not feed my enormous desire. He couldn’t even extend his own pleasure for very long and finished way too quickly. The two men then changed places and the other also took me from behind and yanked my head back by my hair. While he fucked me the first one slapped and whipped my breasts. I love having my breasts whipped but it was still no good – the second guy was even worse than the first – a half-hearted sham of desire that felt flabby and full of gas.
I didn’t care. There was very little pain and it was soon over. Their petty lust born of rage and frustration just seemed sad. Was this all there was to them? I wanted more.
I wanted possession and fire.
They made me kneel and slapped me around a few times and then one of them put a leash on my collar and I was led downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs I was uncuffed and, still blindfolded, made to crawl on all fours while one of them whipped my ass. I heard people around me and I knew I was being paraded and humiliated for their benefit. There were cheers as someone poured water or some other kind of liquid on me and then I was smacked and whipped again.
Still blindfolded I was led on all fours into a noisy room which sounded as though it was full of people. After my entrance there was a noticeable quietening and I knew I was being presented as the humiliated slave – the evening’s prime entertainment. But I also sensed the enormous power I had over them. I held their attention and their lust. It was me they were looking at, wanting, desiring. Me.
And I loved it.
I was their fantasy. I was their sun. They were mere planets held captive by a gravitational force so strong escape was impossible. I was the heat they so desperately craved and I was the light which would heal them. Silvie said bring out the inner slut and Madame said there was no shame. Well, I thought, here I am. Your shameless slut star. Take me and use me. But if you do, you become planets sucked into an orbit from which you may never break free.
Amongst the laughter and chatter I also heard occasional whip cracks and cries of pain. I was obviously not the only slave in the room – others were also being humiliated with me. I thought of Silvie. I so wanted to be with her. If she was being whipped I wanted to be whipped with her. I knew there were further torments in store for me but the thought of being whipped with her aroused me and I was ready for whatever Madame had planned for me. She knew what I wanted but I also knew she was going to make me earn it.
I was ordered to stand up and was then pushed backwards on to a hard wooden table. My arms were quickly stretched behind my head and my legs were forced apart and chained to the table leaving my pussy fully exposed.
I was then whipped all over my body by at least three or four different people. There may have been more. I couldn’t tell as I was still blindfolded but I felt the whips come from all directions. It was a firestorm of pain. I felt like I was burning alive. I screamed at them to stop and someone laughed and then I felt something being thrust into my pussy. It started to vibrate and, just as I began to feel the pleasure of it, the hellish whipstorm descended again and whatever solace the vibrator offered was lost to the conflagration and I shrieked and writhed in burning agony once more.
Suddenly it stopped and apart from the occasional slap or caress, they left me in peace for a few minutes. But of course that didn’t last long. I was abruptly pulled up from the table and my hands were raised above my head and attached to a rope or chain from which I was then suspended. My feet left the ground and I was left swinging for a few moments and they began playing a cruel game of throw and catch with me. I was tossed from one player to another and, while I was swinging to and fro, they would grab my pussy and tits and beat me.
This seemed to go on forever and left me gasping and winded. I didn’t know how much more I could take. I started to feel dizzy and sick. Maybe I looked like I was losing consciousness – I don’t know – but the game was stopped.
After another brief pause, they pulled me by my feet so that my arms and torso were agonizingly stretched at full length. I was held like that while they slapped and pinched my skin. Countless hands and fingers crawled all over my naked flesh. They were like insects biting and stinging me. Fingernails clawed and scratched and I felt like I was being eaten alive.
I can’t tell you how long all this went on. It could have been minutes but it felt more like hours.
And I’m only recounting here the most outstanding parts. There is probably a lot I don’t remember and the events of the night, as I recall them now, seem to me to have the blurred and disconnected quality of a fevered nightmare.
For the most part I was treated like a cheap toy, not even as a slave – a slave is at least a person – I was just an inanimate object to be picked up, passed around, used and then tossed aside.
At times I felt genuinely scared. There seemed to be real malice and cruelty in much of what was done to me yet there was an air of merriment to my tormenters which seemed out of place and bizarre.
The women were often the worst. One woman, intoxicated by too much alcohol and power, and who seemed to think it was all the greatest of fun, kept torturing me by pulling off my nipple clamps. She’d reattach them and then very slowly pull until they snapped off – again and again – and every now and then she’d yank the chain with such violence I thought my nipples were going to be ripped off. It was agony and I begged her to stop but that just seemed to encourage her more and she laughed drunkenly every time she did it.
And yet, much as I was adrift on this sea of random cruelties, if my utter humiliation was their intent, it was not working. I still felt strong. I knew that Madame, and hopefully Silvie too, were watching me and this gave me strength. I knew I was being tested.
How much pain and humiliation could I take? This may be hard to believe but all this was something that excited me and aroused me very deeply. I wanted to find my limits and go beyond them. There was that point where the pain and pleasure combined into an overwhelming feeling of intense exhilaration. And I wanted it.
I loved the thrill of having my breasts whipped. It didn’t hurt. Well, it did hurt but it was the kind of pain that really turned me on. I felt so utterly alive as each scorching lash fell on my breasts and sometimes I would even get a high off it and laugh out loud and demand more.
Believe me, it’s the monster of all adrenaline rushes.
I also adored the cool hard grip of the clamps on my nipples. I really love it more than anything else. It is in my nipples more than any other part of my body where I feel pain and pleasure become one glorious ecstasy.
And I’m getting wet as I write this just thinking about someone (Silvie) clamping me now, softly stroking the tips of my erect tightly clamped nipples, pulling at them, teasing them, caressing the pain and making me beg for more.
I love the symbolism of it too. I am a proud beautiful wild horse that has been captured, broken and now lives devoted to my rider. And I am led by the reins – my clamped and chained nipples – by my beautiful rider who whips me and spurs me to race for their pleasure.
I am a true masochist.
I want to suffer for your pleasure. For in your pleasure I feel no suffering. Only love.
I submit to you and I give you only love – for that is my purpose and my power.
And love is the highest power.
Finally, I was made to stand over a pole on which someone had attached a vibrator. I was told to fuck it but on no account should I come until I was given permission. People applauded and cheered as I fucked it – which really turned me on – I felt like I was fucking everyone in the room.
I was whipped more gently now, as a reward, and my nipples were lovingly licked and caressed. A man kissed me and told me what a good little slave I was. He told me I was the most beautiful object in the room and that he wanted to possess and own me. I began to surrender to his sensual and reassuring voice – it was like an oasis of peace after a desert storm – and I moaned with pleasure as the vibrator hummed inside me. I tried to hold off the inevitable for as long as I could but the terrible prohibition was now becoming yet another torment.
I badly needed to come. Then I made the stupid mistake of begging for it. Madame had warned me not to speak. The vibrator was abruptly removed and I was slapped and given a hard pussy whipping as punishment.
Then, after a brutal double flogging on my ass and breasts to test my silence, the vibrator was replaced, and I was ordered to come.
At that moment I sensed the consciousness of the entire room focusing on me. All the hunger, lust and frustration in the room were pinned on me. I knew I was being devoured, not by one person or even a small group of people, but by a whole multitude, all of whom, right at that very moment, were fucking me in their thoughts, dreams and with their eyes and hands. I was a conduit, an escape, an idol and I willingly and yes oh so gratefully made myself a slave to their fantasies.
I sank deeper onto the vibrator and held it clenched tightly between my legs. I shifted my pelvis and danced with it – silently beseeching its purring bliss to pierce and penetrate me.
In my darkness I felt a hot breeze – like that of an approaching subway train in the metro– it blew all over my naked skin and then I felt a blast like a door bursting open and my blood and heart raced as I felt the enormity approach and overwhelm me and I surrendered to the clamor and roar of the waves which soaked my skin and drowned me and I stretched and stretched and pulled and pulled and there was no pain at all now only elation and time slowed and my body and mind were living
as a gift
and I screamed and screamed… yes… please…. yes… yes…
Continues 12. For Your Pleasure (II)