Oh god, bound and gagged. What would happen next? Rarely does he bind me, and he’s never gagged me before. Nerves race through me as I lie helpless on the metal table. The surface has finally warmed from the heat of my naked body and my breathing is finally starting to calm to a normal level. I look around as best I can but I can’t see much. I hear a pulsing rhythm like an over loud bass reverberating through the table and my ears, like someone has their subwoofer turned up too loud.
He led me in here, ordered me to strip and lay on the table. He then spread me out and bound me with chains and put the gag in my mouth, fastening it behind my head. He knows how I feel about gags but I didn’t fight it. It’s small, like a horses bit; not exactly a gag. I should be able to breath around it just fine. The table is metal and is on locking casters but I didn’t have time to really get a good look at it.
Momentarily the music gets louder, and then muffles again, but I can hear footsteps coming toward me. “How are you doing my whore? Are you all right?”
Unable to do anything else, I nod.
You start lightly caressing my body as you walk around the table. My face, a breast, my belly, down my thigh, the sole of my foot, and then back up the other side. You pause at the juncture between my legs and dip a finger into my folds. You chuckle silently then hold your now wet finger before my face and slowly smear my juices on my lips. Bending down, you whisper in my ear, “My whore, I will be with you the whole time. Do you trust me?”
I look at you questioningly, but answer the only way I can, I nod…because I do.
You caress my face, kissing me briefly on the forehead and then stand up straight. Suddenly there are others around me. I catch only a glimpse of them when you put the blacked out goggles over my eyes. I hear metal catches and then the table is moving, with me on it. The door opens again and the driving bass has been replaced with music that is easier to handle. I’m scared and nervous, but I trust you to take care of me.
We take several turns with the table. At each turn the music gets a little louder, a little more distinct. Finally we stop, and once again I feel a hand traveling down my body and I feel your breath next to my ear, “Show time, my whore.”
Suddenly a door opens before us and the music is louder once again and the table is moving. I start taking deep calming breaths. I can hear and feel people crowding around me. Periodically a hand, or something, touches me. I’m disoriented and nervous, but I know you are beside me. I feel your hand on mine.
The table comes to a stop and I hear the casters locked back in place. I roll my head on my neck, stretch my arms and legs as best I can, and then relax. Suddenly, something is released on the table and I am upright. The table was actually a frame and I am nestled inside of it. The back disappears and I am completely exposed, spread-eagled within the frame.
“Are you all right my whore?”
I am so happy to hear your voice and nod immediately.
“I am right here and will be here no matter what. Do you understand?”
I nod again and relax. I trust you to take care of me.
I feel your lips on mine, even around the bit in my mouth, and I am grateful that you are my Sir.
I suddenly feel a cool air waft over me over and over, and then the blows of the flogger start. Slowly at first, gently; but with each wave of air, they get faster, harder. Then a second flogger matches the first. I am now being flogged both back and front. I relax into the expertise that I feel. There is a rhythm to them. The floggers are using the beat of the music to keep in tune, perfectly matched, but neither hitting me at the same time. First back, then front, then back again. Periodically two blows will land on one side while the other holds off. It is heady stuff and distracting. I never know when or where the next blow will land. Two floggers. That alone is boggling my mind, but then it starts to register that the hits are getting more insistent and I cannot escape or move away from them. While I’m processing the hit on the back, I receive one on the front. They become increasingly more insistent and I find myself lost in the rhythm of it, though I can feel my skin becoming more and more sensitized.
I hear myself moaning and realize that I have started to drool. I’m having a difficult time keeping my saliva in check with the bit in my mouth. This makes me feel more vulnerable and exposed.
The hits continue to ramp up, coming faster, landing more insistently on my flesh. I can feel my body swaying inside the frame as I try to both reach for and get away from the blows when suddenly, they stop. The music has come to an end.
Now things get really strange. Suddenly what was the back of the table becomes the front of the table and it tilts until I am lying on my stomach. I feel a strap holding my head in place.
Then I hear the music start up again and it’s a driving beat. I can only imagine what will come next. I don’t have long to wait as I feel the first blow of the cane, in a light tapping up and down my backside, including the soles of my feet. I was wet before but now I know that my essence will be flowing freely. I cannot help but lift my ass to the blows. They feel so good against my skin. All I can think about is wanting more. I hear shuffling around me but I am focused on the cadence of the blows. Suddenly I feel the table shifting and I am no longer completely on my stomach but at an angle. The rhythm of the cane never ceases, never misses a beat and I just starting to get lost in it again when I fingers on my head.
Drool has been flowing freely from my mouth. I had completely forgotten the bit, I was so lost in the beautiful feel of the cane; but the bit is not being removed from my mouth. Before I can even think to lick the spittle from my lips, I feel something insistent against my lips, pushing my mouth open further and I feel a hand on my head tilting my head back so that a better angle is reached. I recognize there is a cock being shoved between my lips and I greedily suck it in, allowing my saliva to coat it completely as the caning continues. The cane and the cock develop a rhythm with the music, just like the twin floggers did. I am lost in it. The bearer of the cock knows enough to not jam it down my throat. I’m certain I have my Sir to thank for that. Only a certain kind of sadomasochist likes vomit on their cock…and I despise throwing up.
The cock feels good in my mouth. The beat of the cane grows more insistent. I want to concentrate on one or the other but I can’t. When I start to focus on one, the other one grabs my attention with a fierce blow or deeper thrust. I go back and forth until I finally stop trying and just allow myself to be. Lost in the beauty of the blows, my mouth held open by the driving cock. I have no idea how long it continues but the music changes, starts to slow down, and then fade away. The cock escapes my grasping lips. The cane disappears after one last solid blow that causes me to scream.
Then you are there beside me, shushing me, telling me to take a drink of water as you hold the glass to my lips. You kiss my brow, then my lips, your hand caresses my face and I lean into it, kissing your fingers.
The contraption I have been bound to is set upright again and the surface is folded away as I am once again bound within the frame of it and fully exposed. There is silence as someone spreads my pussy lips apart and fastens clamps to them and then places a weight on them. I groan with the addition of the weight and then it is placed in motion, a slow back and forth, pulling on my nether lips.
I hear no music, but I hear something coming through the sound system. It sounds like water and it is relaxing, lulling me…and then I feel the first hot spray hit my body, then another and another. I don’t know for sure, but I think people are pissing on me. Someone is getting creative. I can feel someone almost drawing on me with the spray of their piss.
As that other time, with Sir, as soon as the piss runs down my body and reaches my pussy, I cannot control it and I start to piss too. I am mortified. I am peeing on myself. It’s running down the chains on the clamps and causing the weight to move more. There is piss streaming all over me, front and back, sides, up and down my body, multiple streams of piss. I can smell it. When one stream ends, there seems to be another to take its place, but finally it trickles out. I can hear moaning and it takes me a moment to realize that it is me. I feel a finger running up the inside of my thigh and then the first clamp is released and I scream. I pant for a moment and then the second clamp is quickly removed and I scream again. I hear your voice in my ear shushing me again, your hand on my head calming me, as you order me to drink more water.
Then I hear music starting up again and wonder what will come next when I hear it; the inexorable sound of the Hitachi. I’m not ready for the sensations to be done, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Who wants piss all over their toys? But I should know my Sir better than that.
When the Hitachi hits my pussy, I feel the driving pounding of a paddle. No more warm up. I buck against it and it drives me onto the vibrator. I back away from that only to get a resounding smack with the paddle. Back and forth, back and forth. I cannot escape either torment, and no matter how much I may want to escape, I also want more. With each blow of the paddle my essence squirts from my pussy. With each drive into the Hitachi, my clit becomes more and more sensitized.
Then the paddle stops, the vibrator removed, and I breathe for a moment but I am not allowed to rest long this time. The table once again is behind my back and I am flipped onto that side. Something small and flat starts spanking my pussy and I groan with the new sensation on my engorged pussy. I start bucking and humping with each blow. I want more, I need more. I feel myself shaking my head back and forth and I hear my own voice, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please just fuck me.”
Suddenly the table converts again only this time it seems that only the bottom part of the table is gone and then I feel a person standing between my stretched out legs and something is being pushed relentlessly into my pussy, fucking me. A rhythm starts and I can tell that someone is actually physically fucking me with their cock. I love the feel of the cock and even though I am mostly immobile, I try my hardest to thrust against it, wanting more. He’s teasing me with it though, going smooth and even. I want driving, forceful thrusts. I want it hard and fast. “Please, please god, just fuck me!” I scream the last two words. I need it so badly. And then the music changes again to a driving beat and the man between my legs starts finally to fuck me in earnest. It feels so good I don’t ever want it to stop, and then I realize that I’m feeling something.
I sense people pressing in around me, around us, and then there is warmth spreading out, landing on my flesh. It takes me a moment but I finally realize that men are releasing their cum all over my body. It’s landing on my face, legs, breasts, belly, feet. And then I hear a roar as the man between my legs releases inside of me (I trust that you have taken care that a condom is used).
I am sensitized beyond anything I have experienced before. My pussy is streaming wet with my arousal. I want more pain but I am actually in a place where I want release more…and then I hear the Hitachi again and hope rises in me.
“You’ve done well my whore; now let’s show them how it’s really done.”
I can hear how pleased you are with how things have gone. I feel your fingers drive inside of me and you chuckle. “Oh this one is going to be easy my whore.”
I realize that you have found my g-spot and that it is seriously engorged. You put pressure on in it as you rub it over and over again. The Hitachi is against my clit and I’m humping it like it is the last time I may ever get to have an orgasm. Back and forth. I feel the pressure building and start begging you to not stop. The pressure builds and builds until I cannot help but force it out of me. I start squirting all over your hand but you never stop the pressure on either g-spot or clit. I lose count of the number of orgasms you rip from my body. I’m laughing and crying all at once and I just get lost in the ecstasy of your hands on my body, in my body.
I have no idea when it ends. I think I might have passed out. I come to in a bathroom, lying on the floor outside a shower. You are sitting there with me, holding me; looks of concern and pleasure fighting for supremacy on your face. When I smile at you, the pleasure wins. You stroke my hair, touch my face, kiss me.
“Such good energy my whore.”
