He allowed me a short reprieve to re-center, not nearly long enough to catch my breath. Before I knew it, I was bent over the bed, still kneeling, ass pointed toward him as he finally removed my soaked panties. I could hear his approving murmurs as I tried to breathe my way to center, clamps digging into my nipples as I pressed into the mattress. The pain in my nipples dissolved as his finger entered me; my body sighed in relief as he penetrated me, gentle yet demanding. His fingers curled into my G spot, building a sizzle deep inside me that begged to be set free. I begged him to cum again, dutifully following his protocols, craving his praise for my obedience. He granted my wish easily, and my body bucked against him roughly before I pushed off the mattress, lowering my body further onto his fingers as he continued to pull my orgasm from me. I felt wetness squirt out of me, finally collapsing me back onto the mattress, the faint tug of the nipple clamps no match for the ecstasy that I felt.
Before I could get my senses about me, I heard him rummaging in his bag. I then felt the cool pressure of a glass dildo rub my slippery slit as he warmed me up for another round. I mentally applauded his relentlessness despite the apprehension that I felt in gearing up for another orgasm. When he slipped the glass inside me I shivered head to toe- it felt exquisite. He angled it just right, having felt his way with his fingers just moments before. It wasn’t long before his repeated strokes had me on the edge again. He chose to edge me a few times, delighting in my moans of protest and desperation. As I begged him to cum, he challenged me with a “Why should I? I don’t think you thanked me for the last one.” I groaned, irritated by the fact that I forgot my manners- and that he picked up on it. He let me stew in that for a while as he kept me on the edge. I quickly fixed my mistake, begging for forgiveness. He then told me that I was going to be allowed to cum, but as soon as I had I would need to show my appreciation and apology for my lapse in manners to his cock. I eagerly agreed, and my pleas were finally heeded. I came hard and fast- the dildo coaxed another wet stream out of me, making a mess of his hands as he fought to keep the dildo inside me.
As I came down, the throb in my nipples became more acute with each breath. He allowed me a moment to sit back up, while I made sure that my posture was straight despite my overwhelming desire to curl up into a ball. The chain from the nipple clamps dangled, and he pulled on it slightly to elicit something between a scream and a moan. He removed his pants, my eyes hungry for the first glimpse of his cock. His tall frame put his cock at exactly mouth level, and I got right to work showing my gratitude.
I started gently, licking him from tip to shaft, tasting the salty precum before wrapping my lips around him. I ran my tongue along him as I sucked, taking care to flick and swirl the tip of his cock as I moaned with enthusiasm. I felt him harden in my mouth, giving me the opportunity to take him deeper in to my throat, holding him until I needed to breathe. I made sure not to forget his balls, taking them into my mouth, soaking them in spit and feeling them contract in my mouth as I sucked. His hands tangled in my hair, not forcing my mouth onto him, but also not letting me pull too far away. His quiet expectation fueled me as I enthusiastically sucked him until he pulled me back by the hair.
He praised me, and then pulled again on the clamps, asking me if I wanted them to come off. I immediately answered yes, but then remembered that the removal would hurt ten times as much as leaving them on. Then again, the longer they remain on, the more the removal was going to hurt. I was stuck in a sort of purgatory, damned if I do and damned if I don’t. I finally repeated my consent with more assertiveness, and he removed the first one while I screamed in agony. The second one came off directly after, the rush of blood to my previously clamped nipples far too much for me to bear. I gasped and breathed through it, trying to re-center myself as his fingers gently stroked my screaming nipples. Each touch of his finger was like a flame- red hot and burning all the way through me. His touch eventually became comforting, coaxing the blood to fill my now swollen and delicate nipples.
I thanked him profusely, and in response he gagged me with a ball gag before pushing me back onto the bed, bent again at the waist with my ass pointed toward him. I worked my tongue around the gag, finding it to be tight and restricting, spit already pooling at the sides of my mouth. I laid my head on the mattress, steeling myself for another assault- and he did not disappoint. I felt the familiar glass dildo, smiling at the pleasure that it dealt. He didn’t let me enjoy it, though, instead opting to thrust it inside me a few glorious times, and then abruptly stop before he found a rhythm. He did this again and again, teasing me with what could be, never letting me realize it. The ball gag prevented me from adequately expressing my frustration, so I was left to inarticulate moans while I tried to grind myself onto the unreliable thrusts. He then stopped altogether, turning my moans into whimpers.
He went back to his bag of tricks, busying himself while he ignored my garbled pleas for stimulation. I finally felt the relief of the glass dildo back inside me, followed closely by the sound of him turning on my magic wand. I shivered in excitement, then gasping as I felt a second dildo enter me, this one vibrating. It took me far too long to deduce that he had attached the wand to the second dildo and was now penetrating me with two. My orgasm-addled brain finally caught up, and I was moaning in…agony? pleasure? both? I felt impossibly full, particularly when I felt the squirt of my orgasm before I had even asked permission to cum. Whether the ballgag relieved me of that expectation, or he was trying to cut me some slack in the punishment department as a new partner I don’t know, but mercilessly he didn’t elect to punish me for my failure to ask permission. My orgasm ripped through me, the sound of my squirt muddling the steady hum of the vibrator, intensifying an already electric moment.
I expected him to lay off on the sensation, giving me an instant to catch my breath, but he didn’t. He continued thrusting the two toys inside me, stretching me around them and filling me up to the point of overflow. I felt him sit on my back, leaning over my ass to get more leverage to keep hammering the toys into my soaked hole. My body was pure sensation, unable to process any other thoughts or feelings. I belonged to him in that moment, fully and completely.
From there, I honestly can’t tell you how many orgasms I had- frankly, I am surprised I was able to recount the moments so far so accurately. I became a cum-soaked (literally) blur of a person, unable to discern between sensations and orgasms. At some point I felt him stuff my panties inside me, adding a roughness to the thrusting as he pressed them into me with his fingers and the toy. The dildos were relentless, his strong arms keeping an impossible pace. The vibrator hit my clit every now and then with expert precision, adding an entirely new layer to the torture. I don’t know what made him stop, or even when he stopped, but finally at long last it was over.