Page 13 of Tormented Dreams

A delicious pressure snaked from those three points and encompassed her body. Pulling. Tightening. But subtly, without the coarse blaze of a yank, and Grace guessed that he must have added strategically placed weights to the chain. She wiggled her body experimentally and was rewarded with the contraction of the clamps in return.

"Don’t move. I'm not finished," Xavier growled, and Grace immediately stilled.

"I want you to bend forward," he instructed in a voice laced with pure demand. "I'll release the chain secured to your wrists enough to support you, so you don't topple. First, bring your elbows to your sides."

Grace followed his clipped directions.

As she bent over, the weights attached to the three clamps that adorned her body swung forward freely, imparting, first, a bite and then a slow building force as she remained inclined.

Xavier swirled his warm hands across her presented buttocks, carefully reigniting the residual sting from the healing welts that were now on display before his fingers crept closer to her puckered rosette.

Slick with lube, he glided his fingers past the crinkle of her bottom hole, and Grace revelled in the pressure that built as he forced the persistent digits past the tight ring of muscle, stretching inexorably into the confined space beyond.

He wasn't gentle. She didn't want him to be, and the sensations that showered through her sparked the orgasm that had finally been in retreat, right back to life again. She gritted her teeth as she battled to hold it back.

Behind the blindfold, Grace became aware of a burning sensation around her sensitive back passage and realised that Xavier must have used some special kind of warming lube to open her up with. The feeling was quite delicious, but she hadn't finished enjoying it before a second, more prominent impression forced its way to the fore. Stark, bitter cold! Against the prior heat, its contrast was twice as distinct.

Grace gasped as Master X pushed what felt like a metal butt plug into her ass. The harsh pumping action had her abdomen tightening with need. But it wasn't until he forced it further and settled it inside her with a silent pop that she realised that there was a far more diabolical contradiction at work here.

As sensations swirled and built in her back passage, Grace realised that the metal plug had been frozen, and right now, the slow burn from the frigid rod was building and magnifying, pitting itself against the juxtaposed sensation of the warming lube in a silent war that had her gasping and completely unbalanced.

"What colour are you?" Master X demanded.

"G-green," Grace stuttered, barely able to push the words past her lips.

"The plug has been covered with a condom to prevent any freeze burn to your tissues, but if it gets to be too much, you say so immediately," Master X ordered.

Before she managed to regain her equilibrium, and without any warning, the chain that secured her arms was wrenched back upward, causing the weights on her nipples and clitoris to bob and sway, tightening the clamps, searing forcefully into those most delicate of places. The bright blaze of sensation wrenched a guttural sob of joy from a throat tight with pleasure.

The globes of her buttocks tightened around the frosty plug, and she would have danced on her toes if they hadn't already been extended past where it was comfortable.

There was still more to come.

As Grace tried her best to rationalise all of the conflicting stimuli, she felt flickers of sensation, this time on the fleshy skin of her breast. Was it a tongue? No, it was wet but not warm. A finger perhaps…except it tickled more.

A brush! She was just congratulating herself on a guess she would have bet was correct when more sensations overlaid the ones already battling for supremacy.

What now? Her areolas were cold, like the butt plug, but there was nothing covering her breasts apart from the clamps. That was when the distinctive smell of menthol hit her nostrils and she knew without doubt that somebody—two somebodies—had painted her skin with the cooling oil. A moment later, and she felt the same sensations on the exposed tips of her nipples as they poked through the grip of the clamps. Not menthol this time, though. Oh, no, this had the feel of the same warming oil as had been used to lube her back passage.

The conflicting incitements warred with each other, never letting her ease from their grip on her psyche which, withoutthe distraction of sight, was focussed unerringly on every one of those other stimuli, with outrageous consequences.

Once she was focussed on them, she couldn't pull back, and the very act of concentrating on each of the opposing forces only served to magnify their intensity. Alongside, the unrelenting burn from the butt plug heightened and magnified, swelling inside her rectum.

Logically, she knew that meant that the plug was warming, the metal which had contracted during the cooling process expanding to fill her even fuller. Of course, any actual warmth was incremental. In reality, the searing cold was painting layer upon layer of bitter iciness along her tender inner tissue so that all she felt was the building pain of unceasing, unremitting cold.

Her body shuddered uncontrollably, all of her senses feeling as if she were being wrenched in opposing directions, like a human tug of war. All the while, the pinnacle of completion hovered enticingly within her grasp.

"Do not come!" Master X reminded her harshly as he wound his fingers into her hair and gave it a vicious, delicious yank, adding yet another layer of pain to her confused, overwhelmed mind. "Not until my next command!"

Grace struggled to obey, but the sensations were beginning to overwhelm her. She fought for control and almost lost it completely when she felt the bright, familiar sting of a pussy flogger thrashing upward onto her pouting labia lips. The tempo was unrelenting, and Grace grunted through tightly gritted teeth as she battled to keep her forbidden orgasm at bay.

Then, suddenly, she almost felt as if she was airborne. Floating. Her world tipped into the horizontal and she was aware ofstrong hands gripping tightly around the tops of her thighs, hard enough to leave bruises. She had never felt so thoroughly encompassed in sheer delight.

And then she was pierced. The warm, blunt tip of a cock plundered her depths in a single, unerring thrust.

Grace could barely suck in enough oxygen to breathe. The air was driven out of her lungs with the force of that first, relentless plunge, and the sensations which pulled her every which way were preventing her from drawing another.

She stuttered and wheezed, desperate to draw breath, but no sooner than she had managed it, a single word pierced her fractured consciousness, "Now!" Xavier demanded.

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