Page 76 of The Naughty List

I can’t believe this is happening to me.

I can’t believe the fantasies are really real.

“Stay there, Holly, nice and still,” he says in the aftermath, and I nod, sweat dripping from my forehead.

He raises my head and offers me more water from the glass, and I sip with gratitude. I’m so caught up in different sensations, I’m surprised I even know my own name. I have no concept of time, or how long he’s been using me, or how the hell bad my bruises are going to be in the morning, but I don’t care.

Nothing matters but being his plaything.

I squeal, but I’m smiling as he takes the clips from my nipples, tugging them first. I’m still swollen and tit bound, and Jesus Christ, it hurts. But his mouth doesn’t when he lowers his face to my tits, and sucks at them so gently. Oh my fucking God… his mouth doesn’t hurt at all.

The sensations building are intense in seconds, and he knows exactly what he’s doing. He sucks my nipples just right, sending ripples to my clit, and I can’t keep my mind.

I beg, in words that make no sense, just a long stream of bumbling whimpers that he intensifies by sliding a hand down and tugging the clamps on my pussy lips. My second orgasm is building on its own… but just one touch… one tiny touch of my clit would have me in hyperdrive. I’d be screaming from the rooftops.

If I could…

But my Sir pre-empts me.

He slaps a hand over my mouth, gagging me as he tickles my nipples with the end of his tongue, and finally he gives my clit the contact it craves, gentle little taps with his fingers that take my breath. A gentle tap, a nudge, a slow circle, and then… he rubs frantically and I’d scream, but I can’t. His hand is just too solid, so I’m moaning, delirious as I come for him, trembling in bonds, clamps and chains, spent and dripping with sweat and tears.

And then it’s his turn…

“Open your mouth for me, you good little slut,” he says when he takes his palm away.

He takes his cock out of his suit trousers, and I twist my head towards him, legs still open wide and pussy still sore with clamps. My tits are swollen so bad now they’re purple.

My Sir takes great pleasure, fisting his cock, its engorged head up close, so close my mouth waters at the pearl of precum that drips from it.

“Such a gorgeous little slut,” he says and then he takes my mouth, bulging out my cheek before fucking my throat like it’s just a hole for his service, and I’m grinning around his cock like a madwoman, wild with the thought of his cum.

I want to make my Sir come.

I want that more than anything.

He’s standing up tall when he does unload his balls for me, splattering my face and swollen purple tits with long filthy streams. I have my tongue out, moaning and begging, and he gives me his cock when he’s finished spurting, offering me the privilege of sucking him clean.

I’m so grateful, it’s insane.

I’m dizzy as hell when he does finally uncuff me. My tits pulse so bad when he frees them that I cross my arms against my cum-smeared chest, teeth gritted as he does the same to my pussy.

My body has taken a hell of a lot of punishment tonight.

User 109 leaves me on the rack for a few minutes to recover, watching me from the flogging bench with a smile on his face, and I realise again how he’s such a hot looking intellectual. I wonder who the hell he is.

It’s such a bizarre thought to realise I may never know.

I look around the room at the collection of implements we haven’t used yet. The gym horse, and the shackles from the ceiling and the St. Andrew’s cross, and the idea I won’t get to experience them feels horrific. I want to use everything, all with this one same man.

A man I don’t even know the name of.

“I had no idea how much of a painslut you’d be when I sent you the proposal,” he says, and I smile.

“Neither did I. I had my suspicions, but that was, um… quite an intense experience.”

He looks around. “There is plenty more to play with. Such a shame we won’t get the chance tonight.”

“We won’t?”

---