Misc. Erotica Compilation of English stories (Collected)

[Priyanka98]

For once, the machine found some degree of mercy for me. All the settings seemed to settle to a safer mid-range, enough to torture my sensitive nerve endings but not so much that I couldn't breathe or think. Shaking with the intense release, and with the continued sensations on my inflamed clit, I straightened up enough to begin weakly fumbling with the combination lock. The act of sitting up settled my clit onto the sybian at a new angle, and I felt yet another aftershock jolt up my spine despite the overstimulation. I found I couldn't actually stop moaning as I began to attempt opening the lock. One more glance at the clock: 9:21. Not my best, but entirely respectable.

As always, I absolutely fouled up the combination the first time. Turning a dial to an exact number while you entire body shakes is extremely difficult, not to mention while you try and ignore your most sensitive parts crying out for mercy. With a deep, shuddering breath, I attempted to focus as hard as I could. Pressing the dial hard into the lock for stability, I began to turn it slowly and firmly from number to number. The first digit of the combination, then right twice fully. Second digit, then left once...

Tink.

[Priyanka98]

At first, I didn't even understand what had happened. My left hand still held the back of the lock, and my right still firmly grasped the dial. What I couldn't comprehend was why there was suddenly about an inch of space between the two.

I had pressed hard enough to shear the dial completely off the cheap piece of garbage lock. All I could see sticking out from the lock was a tiny, flat piece of metal where the dial should have been attached.

Not since the first incident with the tub had I felt this sudden surge of deep, genuine panic. But unlike that first time, there was no following realization that my panic was undeserved. This time, as I stared at the ruined lock, the only conclusion was that I truly was trapped atop this cruel machine with a will of its own. And I had absolutely no idea how the hell I was going to escape.

And to punctuate the point, the sybian changed patterns once again. It began to repeatedly ramp up from 0 to 100% over the course of a few seconds, over and over.

The change in sensations, combined with the explosive rush of adrenaline that the broken lock had provoked, sent me spiralling into another massive orgasm that I was entirely unprepared for. I cried out, in a strange mix of surprise, terror, and absolute pleasure as my body clenched so hard around the dildo that I could feel its rotation slow. With my head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, my mind raced trying to figure out how to escape this trap I had designed so perfectly for myself. But my thoughts were like wet tissue paper in a storm, and I couldn't hold onto them long enough to form plans. Because at my core, this situation was exactly what I had always hoped for. Here I was, actually trapped against this machine like I had always fantasized about. I had no prepared avenue of escape, no guarantees that this would ever end. If I wanted to survive this, I would have to struggle against my own body to do it.

The idea set me on fire. Part of me was genuinely terrified, that I wouldn't be able to free myself. How long would I be here until someone found me? Nobody visited me, nobody called me. Would I even be able to survive? If I did... would I even still be sane by the time I was rescued? Even if I could free myself, how long would it take? Could I handle it? But somehow, every worry just sent a shock straight to my pussy. The idea of struggling for my life and sanity, the prospect of it being more than my mind could handle, leaving me a moaning ruin... even the fact that this was the dark consequences of my own desires somehow turned me on even more. This is what I had always wanted, and it turned me on so badly to get it.

Reality came back to me in the form of a powerful blast of vibration against my clit. As turned on as I was by my predicament, it didn't make my nerve endings any less sensitive. Gasping desperately, I tilted my hips back as far as I could to give my poor clit some degree of relief. Fortunately, the machine had lowered the intensity of the dildo's rotation for the moment which made this the easiest position on my body for now. While it still did insistently stir up my insides and hum against my clit, I found I could at least focus my thoughts somewhat now. Before I lost the opportunity, I needed to come up with some sort of a plan.

Looking around, I had apparently dropped the dial to the lock and it had rolled out of reach, so it wasn't worth thinking about any further. Reaching gingerly for the lock without leaning forward onto my inflamed clit, I tried to carefully grasp the tiny broken shaft with my fingernails. It became quickly clear that this was a dead end: not only could I not get any grip, I also would have no clue where to turn it to without the dial. Defeated, I dropped the lock against the steel rod. Refusing to give up, I began pulling against all of the cuffs with my full strength; while I had intended for them to be impossible to escape from, I had never been quite as motivated as I was now. Unfortunately, I had met my goals with too much success; the chains were thick, the floor brackets were insanely secure, and the cuffs themselves were too well made to be broken open. I had no leverage to wiggle out of even the ankle cuffs, let alone the thigh cuffs and the belt pinning my hips down.

If escape was impossible, then rescue would have to be the next angle. While anyone walking in on this would be incredibly embarrassing, it would still be better than the alternatives. Unfortunately, my phone was most certainly not accessible, and I had made a habit of disabling the voice assistants because I found them "creepy and intrusive". I scowled up at my phone, sitting smugly across the room recording my plight.

As hard as I was trying to focus, the machine had never truly stopped buzzing away between my legs. In fact, it had slowly lowered itself to the barest of activity, which had the dangerous effect of becoming slowly pleasurable again. So as I looked up at my useless phone, I felt a rush of warmth radiating from my pussy as I considered the video it would contain. All the genuine anguish and raw erotic pleasure I was experiencing, and it would all be there for me to experience again and again. How many times would I watch it, fucking myself to the display of my own helpless suffering? Maybe I'd even set up a screen down here, and watch it while riding the sybian. An endless feedback loop of helplessness and pleasure.

Delicately, I slowly shifted my hips forward. I couldn't help but wince slightly at the feeling of direct contact, even with the soft silicone, but the feeling of need was overcoming my ability to think and I couldn't keep my hips tilted away forever anyway. I'd just let myself enjoy the sensations for a bit, enough to satisfy my growing cravings until the machine ramped up again, and then I'd get back to work looking for an escape. Just a bit would be okay.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the clock. 9:33, a new record. I had also spent twelve minutes on the sybian after cumming, which was a definite record of its own. Despite the electricity that began moving up my spine, I focused my gaze directly on the camera of my phone. The sybian was behaving awfully well, gently pulsing and caressing my tender pussy inside and out. I found my hands beginning to roam my own body again, as pleasure overcame any other sensations of discomfort. Soft moans spilled out of me, teased out despite my situation. My mind began to wander into fantasy once more, tainted by the genuine danger I was in.

In my mind, I never escaped. In fantasy, free from mortal concerns, I was trapped here for the rest of my life. Day by day passed, week by week, year by year, and nobody ever came and found me. I spent hour after hour riding the waves and valleys of pleasure and suffering, losing all ability to think like a human. All I could do was endure as pleasure was wrung from my tortured body, until the only thing I could focus on was the anticipation of my next orgasm.

As my mind wandered, I stared straight at the phone. But not at the phone, past it. I stared at myself, the "me" that would one day be watching this video. She and I, we would lock eyes and share in this fantasy. Every time she watched this, she would remember how much we enjoyed this, enjoyed the rush and the fear and the helplessness. And in my heart, I knew even then, that I would be chasing this feeling for the rest of my life. That her and I, that the "future me" and the "me" trapped on this infernal toy, would only take this further once this was all over. That even if I did get myself free of this situation, I truly was trapped, by my own desires driving me back into riskier and more dangerous situations. I had been trapped ever I began exploring my own pleasure, and I loved it.

Unlike my earlier explosive orgasms, this one built with a powerful inevitability. As I embraced how dangerously addicted I was to all of this, and how much I loved the risk I had put myself in, my body simply unfolded. It started with my legs shaking violently, and I almost looked down to see what was going on but found myself unable to look away from the camera. I was locked in eye contact with the degenerate "me" of the future, the "me" that I was creating right now, and I couldn't tear my gaze away from who I was corrupting. The shaking rose up to my hips, forcing me to grind desperately against the vibrating base. I cried out as I aggressively rubbed my clit (which I had been trying so hard to protect) against the softly humming machine, blinking tears from my eyes at the intensity of the sensation. My hands flew to my breasts without my consent, rolling my nipples between my fingers as my entire body became ravenous for any pleasurable sensation it could experience. A storm of erotic energy played between my breasts and my clit, building up throughout my body. From my toes to my fingers, I had never felt more aware of my skin. The cool air of the basement whispered against my sweat-soaked skin, highlighting every drop as it rolled down my back and stomach.

[Priyanka98]

And then the machine roared into high gear, and I screamed.

I wasn't prepared, and I don't think I could have been prepared. It ripped the orgasm from me, without mercy, from the very bottom of my soul. My entire body locked up, every muscle tensing, which only served to seal my pussy as firmly down onto the sybian as I possibly could. For what felt like an eternity, I screamed as my entire body flooded with aggressive release. I actually seemed to completely disconnect from my body; for a moment, it felt like I was merely witnessing this as something just happening to my body, rather than actually experiencing it. And in that moment, "observing" myself... I felt beautiful. The pleasure pulled me taut, laid me bare and exposed, and I felt like the best version of myself that had ever existed. As if I lived only to reach this state. Tears flowed freely from my eyes, slammed shut as it all became incredibly overwhelming, and my awareness seemed to be sucked back into my body with immense force.

I couldn't breathe. The machine wasn't slowing down, but I couldn't handle anymore. Screams gave way to weak moans and feeble hyperventilation, struggling to draw any air into my lungs that I could. The orgasm wasn't ending, even as my nerves cried out for mercy. I couldn't pull back, couldn't soften the effects, as my legs had locked up entirely around the sybian. All I could do was wait, either for the machine to slow or for my muscles to fail.

Time seemed to lose all meaning. All those days in the gym had given my legs dangerous resilience, and the machine seemed fixated only on the highest settings. Any slight dip in intensity only heralded another long spike, redoubling the tension in my thighs. Leaning backwards pressed the dildo insistently against my g-spot, sending me into uncontrollable full body spasms. Leaning forward ground my tortured clit into the madly buzzing machine, causing my body to tighten even more than it already was. All I could do to withstand it was to try and hold myself perfectly upright, gripping the chains on either side of me to stay steady despite feeling increasingly lightheaded. I had to will myself to breathe, forcing myself between long involuntary moans. Holding myself rigidly, I actually passed out for a few seconds, only for the swirling combinations of rolling orgasms and intense torment to snap me back into focus.

And then, peace. Abruptly, the machine dropped to a low purr, the dildo barely moving. All at once, my legs unlocked and I slumped forward in a heap. My clit protested weakly at the contact, pulling a groan from me, but I was too exhausted to do much about it. I lay there for a while, just taking the opportunity to catch my breath and clear my mind while I could. I wasn't sure how long I had before the assault continued, but I knew I wouldn't survive if I didn't take this chance to recover.

When I finally sat up, shaking the hair dripping with sweat from my eyes, I looked to the clock once more: 10:04. I had been on this machine for almost an hour and a half, half of that time being against my intentions. My body felt exhausted, and my mind was sluggish. If I didn't figure something out soon, I genuinely didn't know if I would ever have the coherency to.

A warning sounded, from the back of my mind. Beneath my legs, the machine had taken on a particular rhythm to its pulsing, even at the lowest intensity. Brr-brr-brrr, brr-brr-brrr, over and over. A shiver ran down my spine, realizing what that meant.

I didn't recognize every pattern the control box had, but I absolutely recognized this one. It was the only one I had a name for: the Big Bang. Over ten minutes, it would slowly build from 0% to about 80% intensity, then silence for 1 minute. And then it would blast full power, for ten straight minutes.

I recognized it because I considered it the "final boss" of the machine, and had never come close to enduring it. The slow ten minute build was a delicious edge, which would always send me over as soon as it went into full power. I would try and hold out, but would inevitably be left scrambling to open the lock in under a minute, and had never withstood the full pattern. Except now, I had no escape. If I didn't get free soon, I would be forced to experience the entire thing. And I knew that there was no way I could withstand ten minutes on full power in my current state.

Real panic set in. 10:06, two minutes gone just spent contemplating the future. I frantically pulled at the chains again, but the last onslaught left me even weaker than I was the first time I tried and failed. 10:08. I grabbed the lock with both hands, shaking it with whatever might I could muster. It did nothing. 10:09, the sensation began to become truly distracting. Holding the lock for leverage, I tried to pull myself up as far off the machine as I could, but my legs provided no meaningful assistance. They gave loose, dropping me back into the sybian with force. I cry out. 10:10, 4 minutes left.

Looking up at the phone, I lose my cool. "You did this! You did this to me!" I'm screaming at myself, a future "me" that I'm not even sure will exist at this point. Maybe I'll never get free, never have the chance to watch the video. So who am I yelling at? In my heart, I still have hope that I'll make it out of this. 10:12, my clit is on fire but I lack the strength to do anything about it. I try to sob, but only moans come out: even as brutalized as I am, the dark part of me still finds pleasure in all this. It's the most resilient part of me, the only part that won't break.

The only part that won't break.

An idea forms, the last chance I'll have. If this doesn't work, there won't be enough left of me to try anything else. I look up at the clock, 10:13. Now or never. I take deep breaths while I can, trying to ignore the protestations between my legs. They're about to suffer a lot worse, so there's no sense in babying them now.

10:14. The machine goes completely quiet.

With one last breath, I reach down to spread my pussy lips apart and lean forward, mashing my clit directly against the machine. Even just touching it causes me to scream, but there's no time to suffer. Bending forward with all my weight, I grab the lock in both hands with the tightest grip I can manage, and close my eyes.

10:15. The machine attacks.

It's not even pleasure at this point, just raw sensation. My body jerks hard as the vibrations begins, but I muster all my will and keep my pussy pressed down against the machine. The screams flow freely, and I don't try and stop them.

My entire body begins to shake, sliding my exposed clit back and forth across the slick ridges of the machine. I lose the ability to even scream, as my body perversely embraces the sensation. My exhausted legs begin to tense, and I try to brace for what comes next.

As before, my legs lock up around the machine. I moan weakly as my body betrays all good sense, forcing me to withstand the maximum intensity. Every instinct in me tries to force me upright, to take the pressure off my clit, but I ignore it. Good sense didn't get me into this situation, and it wasn't going to get me out of it. I clutch the lock as if it were a lifeline, feeling my body respond to the brutality in the only way it seemed to know how.

This orgasm was different than any I had experienced before, more primal and powerful. It felt less like pleasure, and more like an explosion of light behind my eyes. The intensity of it scared me, but there was no other option but to ride the wave. Moans gave way to silent screams, as my body turned itself entirely over to this one release.

The dildo hammering my G-spot seemed to obliterate some barrier in my mind, and my pussy began slowly gushing all over the sybian. I could feel a thick cream lathering up between my body and the machine, sliding down my thighs and up around my clit. As tightly as I held myself down, it still worked its way between me and the machine, and I felt my clit sliding wetly against the endlessly vibrating surface. And despite everything, amidst the torture of my raw nerves, something truly pleasurable began to stir in my mind.

I redoubled my grip around the lock, fighting to stay conscious. What came next came last, one way or another. If I passed out now, I'd lose my opportunity and I wouldn't get another. I looked up one last time at the camera, tears and sweat dripping down my face, and dug deep into the darkest parts of my mind.

I imagined myself watching myself, watching myself literally come apart. I imagined my horror at finding it erotic, even as I touched myself to it. At first I'd resist, I'd tell myself that I should never do this again and that I should be ashamed for watching... but my fingers would still be dancing across my clit. I'd tell myself I had to delete the video, to remove the temptation... but my fingers would find their way into my dripping pussy, slamming in and out. And as my shame at being a slave to my own sexual needs would rise to a peak, I'd look at the video and see my face as it was right this moment, pushed far past the brink of sanity and decency. And I would envy myself for being so dominated by my own needs, and I would cum hard dreaming of how to reach those destructive lows once again.

It was as if I could feel my mind snapping. The physical sensation of orgasm hadn't stopped since the machine had kicked into high gear, but this was a full body embrace of it. My body ceased to obey me, and my back arched in a full body spasm, head whipping back as I screamed in the most self destructive pleasure I had ever experienced.

[Priyanka98]

And I held onto that lock for dear life as it happened, as my body tore itself backwards against my will like a coiled spring. With all the presence of mind I could muster, I tried to pull myself forward with the lock, knowing full well my mind would lose the battle. My body, wracked with pleasure, would surely win.

And it did win, but not only against my mind. As I screamed until my lungs gave out, the metal workings of the cheap lock followed suit. There was no way I would break the thick metal shank of the lock, but the inner mechanisms were obviously of lousy workmanship. Against the involuntary force of my entire body, the lock exploded in my hands, sending me reeling backwards as parts of it scattered across the entire room.

The force of the lock releasing threw me back, the chains straining to keep me from flying off the sybian as it roared beneath me. Unable to keep upright, I could barely hold myself in a backwards arch as my muscles failed beneath me. The release of all that tension, combined with the relief of the lock breaking, had made my muscles limp and powerless. All I had to do to release myself was lean forward, and slip the chains up off the metal rod... but I could not lift myself. Even bent backwards, with my clit as exposed as it was, my entire pussy was still fully accessible to the machine's anger.

Looking up at the ceiling, bent so lewdly backwards for the camera, I let my mind drift once more to escape the screaming of my overstimulated nerves. I had done it. I had escaped this trap of my own accidental making, and I had done it by diving deeper into my own depravity than I ever had before. Closing my eyes, I let myself scream as one final orgasm was torn from my body, trying to blot out the truth that had never felt more satisfied than I did in that moment.

And then, silence. The machine quieted to a dull roar, and my body began to slowly pull itself back together. By the time I could finally throw my body forward, the clock read 10:29. I had survived the full course of the Big Bang, even if not entirely by choice. The chains felt heavier than ever as I pulled them off the anchoring post, the tension leaving the cuffs. Bracing with both arms, I let out one final cry as I lifted myself up and off the still-buzzing dildo, feeling my clit unstick itself from the surface with a softly wet sound. As soon as I was free, I collapsed sideways onto the concrete floor. Before I could think to move any further, I passed out.

I woke around an hour later, aching and cold, to the sound of angry buzzing. My body felt like lead, and the machine had shifted into yet another high intensity cycle while I lay next to it, as if it was still hungry for more. Dragging myself to my feet, I began to disassemble the ceremony to my lust that I had taken part in.

As if in a trance, I went through the complete cleanup routine as if it was any other day. I shut off the machine, pulled the silicone cover off and washed it mechanically in the basement tub. I wiped down the toy and mat, idly marvelling at the sheer amount of mess I had produced. Only after everything was cleaned did I register that I was still wearing the cuffs, dragging the heavy chains behind me. Once unlocked, the trance seemed to break, and I left them on the floor of the basement as I wobbled up the stairs, phone in hand. I couldn't help but look at it, though it seemed to have run out of power at some point. How much did it catch? All of it? None of it? I wasn't sure I wanted to know, and I certainly wasn't capable of processing the answer tonight.

Wandering up to my bedroom, I considered how badly I needed a shower as I fell onto my bed, sideways and on top of the comforter. I fell asleep almost instantly, still sticky from head to toe.

[Priyanka98]

I woke shortly after noon on Saturday, reflexively curled into a ball as I slept. The soreness I felt was immeasurable, and I felt like I had run a marathon. My dead phone sat next to me; I hadn't plugged it in before passing out the night before. The thought of what it may contain scratched at the back of my head as I began charging it, before finally drawing myself a bath that I so badly needed.

While the bath did far less for the soreness than I wished, the Aspirin I took beforehand was far more effective. Besides the pain, simply washing off the evidence of the prior night's activities went far in helping me feel human again. By the time I came out, wrapped in my fuzziest robe, I felt just normal enough to dread what my phone contained. And though it was charged enough to turn on, I couldn't bring myself to watch. In fact, I pledged not to.

But I couldn't bring myself to delete the video, either. To even look at it was a temptation I couldn't handle, and so I ignored it. I spent the weekend recovering, and did my damndest to put the incident out of my mind. Even as I went back into the basement to finish cleaning up, I maintained a sort of mental distance from the memories of what had happened; I just wasn't ready to deal with it yet.

And for that entire week, that was how I continued. Ironically, despite how much I felt like I had been hammered out and reshaped, a number of coworkers made sure to comment on how fresh and rejuvenated I looked on Monday. To which I smiled and made small talk, and refused to think deeply as to what that might imply. (I did, however, allow myself to buy a new combination lock. For the gym, of course. But I also couldn't bring myself to remove it from the packaging.) I threw myself into my work, refusing to give myself a free moment.

But when Friday rolled around and the weekend loomed once again, I found it impossible to put the previous weekend out of mind any further. At the very least, I bargained with myself, I needed to know just how much the video had captured before my phone died. And so I ate dinner, poured myself a large glass of wine, and sat down on my couch to finally look at my phone.

Opening the video, I quickly scrubbed straight to the end to see where it had cut off. Brief frames of the rest of the video flashes across the screen for only moments, but even that was enough to light a fire between my legs. Even though some soreness remained, it had also kept me from relieving any tension for the week, and I felt as if I were on a hair trigger.

Reaching the end, I saw myself asleep on my basement floor, skin shining with sweat. Improbably, the phone had captured the entire experience, only dying once I had already freed myself and passed out. Some part of me had hoped the video had cut out after only a minute, or somehow corrupted itself, just to save me from the temptation. But now here I sat, with the entire thing at my fingertips. All I had to do was press Play.

I finished my wine before making another move, staring intently at that Play button. This was a larger choice than it seemed, and I knew it. If I embraced what this video showed me, I knew I would end up chasing this high for the rest of my life. I had been in genuine danger last weekend, and only escaped through Herculean effort. Would I be able to escape again, if I kept chasing this? Did I even want to? The unopened lock sitting in my purse seemed to throb at my feet.

I slipped a hand beneath my legs, under the pretence of feeling how inflamed the skin felt. What I found instead was that even thinking about this had soaked my panties completely, to the point that running my fingers over the outside pulled away strings of wetness. I shivered at the sensation, my mind slipping back into memories. I had been terrified, I had been pushed drastically beyond what I was comfortable with or what was even safe... and it had been the most thrilling experience of my life.

Wordlessly, I stood up and pulled my dress over my head. Soon the bra followed, and my ruined panties next. A few taps of my phone, and the video was now cast onto my living room television in crisp HD quality. I sat in the center of my couch, spread my legs wide for my fingers, and began the video.

For one hour and thirty-six minutes, I fingerfucked my pussy to the spectacle of my own imprisonment and sexual devastation. When she cried out for mercy, I edged myself in anticipation. When orgasms ripped through her, I softly caressed my own pussy lips to delay my own finish. And when she screamed at me in anger, blaming me for her suffering, I accepted her words as truth and pounded myself relentlessly. I don't let up as she forced herself into one final, awe-inspiring orgasm that shattered her bonds, my cries joining hers as her body went limp and simply endured the final ravishment by the merciless machine. And she she slumped off the toy, collapsing to the ground, I licked my fingers clean with a single clear thought in my mind: I envy her.

As the video ended, I stood from the couch to ready myself for bed, satisfied for the moment. But the hunger that I felt inside, I knew wouldn't be satisfied by anything less that what I had already endured. My whole adult life had been motivated by my endless climb into sexual depravity, and it wasn't going to stop now. Reaching into my purse, I began unwrapping the lock as I passed by the kitchen garbage. Nonchalantly (as if I had someone to hide my actions from), I quietly peeled the sticker off the lock that indicated the combination, shoving it into the wreckage of the packaging. I threw the entire mess into the recycling, leaving the lock sitting prominently on my dining room table to find in the morning.

Whoops.

[Priyanka98]

COLLECTED

He seemed very charming - unfailingly polite, just up to edge of flirting, never quite crossing it. Eye contact always, except when she'd bent over to pick up the coaster she'd dropped. And when she caught him at that, he just winked at her, very secure in himself; never a question there would be any awkwardness in being caught.

When he asked her to come back with him it really wasn't a question. She'd been enthralled by his easy-going manner and was anxious to find out exactly how nice he could be. The hotel was suave and she felt exceptionally glamorous on his arm walking through the posh lobby in her cocktail dress, on the arm of such a handsome suit.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, he turned to her and gripped her firmly, pulling her close against him. She could feel the outline of his muscles underneath the silk suit, and immediately melted into waiting embrace. Fourteen uninterrupted floors later and she collected her thong from the floor where it had fallen; victim to his desperately probing fingers and her complete lack of desire to keep them on.

Before she could straighten she felt his hands all over her behind, feeling every contour, and yet somehow in the firmness she knew she wasn't stand up fully. She drew her head level with her ass, and looked over her shoulder at him curiously. He grinned a very dangerous grin, full of dangerous promises. Promises on which she felt certain he would deliver. She gyrated her ass against his hand, and tried to convey just how willing and ready she was to get to the room.

"Who's my good girl." he murmured, as he gently pushed her forward, giving directions to the room quietly, forcing her to lead. She knew he was looking at her ass, and found herself pulling her dress higher as they walked. By the time they reached the room it was not only obvious but plain she wasn't wearing any underwear. A porter approached from the other end of the hall just as they were reaching the door pushing a luggage cart. She squeaked and tried to drop the dress back down, but his iron grip stopped her before she could do more than flinch.

The porter walked past, pointedly looking away in a way that screamed he knew what was going on. A rush of heat throbbed to her clit and she moaned involuntarily. The porter looked back in reflex, and they made eye contact. The throbbing continued as he looked away, and suddenly, she was desperate and needy in a way that made the walk across the floor seem serene in comparison.

Still in the hallway she unzipped the dress, and let it fall to floor. His eyes drunk her in, and she could see her need reflected on his face. She unhooked the bra, and he stepped forward, and slipped two fingers in her very wet and willing slit. She moaned, a prolonged animalistic sound of pure need. "I'll take that." He murmured to her as he took the bra from her unresisting hands and using his fingers in her pussy as a guide, firmly swung her around and led her into the room.

She was marched in a hold she couldn't ignore to the bed, and pushed firmly so she was lying on her back. She was suddenly struck by how in control he was - she was naked, being led around by her desire in more ways than one; while he was fully dressed and had her very firmly in hand.

He smiled at her sudden uncertainty, seemingly unfazed. He reached into her sopping pussy again and brought his fingers to her lips. "Don't worry darling. I think you're very much looking forward to this."

Face burning red in shame at her uncontained arousal, she managed to stop sucking her juices from his fingers long enough to force out, "Oh god yes. Please." He chuckled softly, which somehow had a very dangerous undertone to it, and leaned in close to her face. "Please what?" he whispered in her ear. "Please play with you? Make love to you? Make you scream? Beg? Plead? Use your words."

She whimpered around his fingers. "Take me." He chuckled again. "Oh, I plan to, don't you worry. But before I do, I need to know you'll be up to the task." With that he pushed her legs back, knelt in front of her, and licked straight up her drenched slit. She moaned and writhed under his touch as he started to work her clit slowly.

Circling it softly with his tongue, rubbing his nose over it, tongue lapping at her wetness, she was beginning to buck against him, exhorting him to do more. "Fuck, yes, please, more, harder!" she cried, and yet he maintained the slow pace, the soft feels. She reached at his head in her desperate need and quick as a flash his hands took hers, pinning them beneath her ass, effectively immobilising her. "Oh no dearest, we want to enjoy this. No interference from you, thank you."

She moaned at those words and wish she hadn't felt her fuckhole quiver at how easily he'd taken her over, removed her ability to have any control over the situation. He kept the slow pace until she was humping against him with abandon, unable to breath in more than shallow gasps. And then he just stopped.

She mewled at him to keep going, but unaffected by her need he stood and swung her around the bed her head was now the closest part of her to him. She heard his trousers unzip, and she was presented with the prettiest cock she thought she'd ever seen. "Suck."

She reached up her mouth and took the hardening member as deeply as she could, filling her vision with his balls, before bobbing up to meet it with all the enthusiasm she could muster. She could still feel her cunt aching to be played with again, and that must have been obvious in the way she was humping the air because she heard him give a very self-satisfied noise deep in his throat. She could feel him reaching for something she couldn't see.

"Now you need to understand something," he started to say as she felt him turn back to her. "You're mine. I come first; your pleasure happens only because I want it, and whether you cum is only because I say so. You do not cum without my express permission, do you understand?"

She tried to nod her head, but given she was upside with a mouthful of cock it didn't work very well. She followed up with trying to verbally confirm, and all that happened was she sounded like she was moaning at the thought. Which as she thought about it wasn't incorrect even in the slightest. Either way it was clear he understood because he made a noise that sounded like acceptance and reached across her.

A buzzing broke the slurping silence she made against his cock, and suddenly her clit was dancing and she bucked against the vibrator. "That's right, do the pleasure dance. But you don't cum, remember? And my pleasure comes first." She moaned, bucking her hips and pressing upwards with her head, trying to engulf as much of his cock as possible down her throat.

He casually played the vibrator across her clit as she worked him over. Rubbing from side to side, taking it completely off her clit; sometimes rubbing it down her dripping cunt and back up again; sometimes hovering it over her, watching her desperately push her hips up and up to maintain the contact. Removing it completely when he felt she wasn't paying nearly enough attention to his cock.

Mewling and needy, she starts desperately humping the vibrator, unable to think, needing the release. As he realises just how close to the edge she is, he removes the vibrator completely and grips her head, and instead of allowing her to bob up and down his dick, he starts fucking her face. Slowly, but going all the way; hitting her gag reflex and holding her firmly in place, until she can breathe. Pull out, back in, all the way. Slowly but consistently; passionless and inexorable.

She starts getting used to the rhythm; her gagging is slightly less with each repetition. So he ups the pace, no less deliberately or forcefully; just faster. And faster. Always in control, never losing his head or his pace; never giving her a chance to breathe except exactly when he wanted. She couldn't work out why being used so dispassionately was still fuelling her desire, her need - she was pressing her hips up towards him with every down stroke, desperately mimicking his actions in reverse.

Eventually she felt him crack; his movements became slightly erratic, no longer able to maintain the careful rhythm. Her cunt gushed and quivered knowing what was coming; he started jack hammering at her face fuck hole well past her gag reflex, still ignoring it, before an extremely powerful final thrust brought his climax, spewing his cum all the way down her throat. She was coughing, gagging; but he was relentless, holding her with his full length as far down as he could go. She tried to swallow what she could through the coughing but it was too much; she just couldn't take it all.

Eventually, after his orgasm had subsided, he pulled out and let her splutter and cough as she needed. The calm demeanour was back; he smiled down on her wracked body. "Good girl." He cooed down at her. "You took that as well as I could have hoped. You'll do very nicely."

Despite the torment of being used that way, her body still responded. Her nipples stiffened again and her slickness renewed down her thighs. She couldn't help it. Even as she panted and tipped her head so the cum she couldn't swallow dripped off her face onto the bed covers, her fingers sought her wetness and began to bring herself to the orgasm she needed. Her eyes closing with the strength of her need.

[Priyanka98]

He watched with a crooked smile, allowed her to get as close as he thought she would still be able to pull away form before pinning her arms to the bed again. She humped desperately, trying to find anything to tip her over the edge. "I haven't given you permission yet, have I? And you haven't asked." She squirmed in his grasp.

"Please, please, sir, let me cum; give it to me, make me feel so good, I've been good to you haven't I? You want it? To feel me? Please?" He chuckled. "You can do better than that." He twisted her around, bringing her to stand on the far side of the bed, next to what looked like a dildo on a stick. "But I'll make you a deal instead. You get on this, and if you can get yourself off without using your hands - in either sense of the word - I'll give you the best orgasm you've ever had."

"And if I don't, sir?" She stared up at him pathetically begging with her eyes. He smiled in a way that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Then you'll be mine, completely. You'll give yourself willingly to me and the you who walked into the hotel will no longer exist; only the wanton whore as you are now. Obeying me completely in all things, desperate for my attention."

She felt his words straight to her throbbing clit; her sloppy cunt aquiver. Already tonight she felt sexier, hornier, more desperate than she ever had - and he hadn't even fucked her properly yet. How would a lifetime of sexual encounters like this feel? As she felt the cold metal of the apparatus slide inside her, she decided she wouldn't even try. This feeling? She wanted to feel it often.

So as soon as he stood, after replacing her heels and locking the device in place, she stared at him pointedly, "Oh no. How have I struggled, and can neither free myself or orgasm without your help." She delivered it evenly and tried to convey just how willing she was for what was to come next. He smiled again, and reached out to grab her nipples, twisting and pulling them through his fingers. "Oh, you like that idea do you? Excellent. Then let's have some fun."

He slapped her across the face suddenly, the unexpected shock flung her head back and she gasped in surprise. "My fun, baby. My fun. And just you remember you basically begged for this, you gave in without even trying." He slapped her on the other cheek, "To keep things even," he told her, before pulling out some purple rope and binding her in a bikini harness with her arms behind her. She stood as upright as she could, holding back the sudden tears, the echo of the blows to her face stinging as she waited to finish being tied.

She'd never been struck before like that, so callously, so obviously designed to make her feel as small and insignificant as she now felt. She remembered of his words - "only the wanton whore you are now." She certainly felt it now, not just the pleasure of it, but the way she'd just given it up to him. The way she'd stood and allowed the second hit to happen. The way she could still feel herself dripping down the metal dildo that was hilted inside of her.

As she shifted her weight unconsciously to try to get some stimulation to her desperate clit, she finally realised the devious genius of the device - there was no way she would have any leverage to get off of it herself; to lift herself high enough to get it out of her she'd need help.

He reached around from behind her once the bind was complete and began to massage her tits; softly at first and she melted; pressing her back into him and purring. Rolling her nipples through his fingers, kneading with palms, quickly turned into squeezing just a bit too hard, fingernails scbanging across the soft flesh. She moaned, still pressed against him, grabbing at his chest blindly with her hands. Feeling him start to nip gently at her neck, and then slapping at her tits. Gently, playfully. Then harder. Harder again, the slaps ringing out across the room, the pain starting to mount, her nipples afire as her grabbed them roughly in between the slaps.

He stopped, and the sudden lack of stimulation made her cry out, needing more. He walked around in front of her and smiled at her. "Don't worry pet, you'll get all you can handle, and then probably some more. Patience is a virtue." She nodded in compliance, and he took a silk scarf and covered her eyes, blindfolding her. She heard him shuffling around and then felt some material being rubbed against her dripping cunt, before being placed into her unresisting mouth. She could feel the lace of them and realised she'd been gagged with her own panties, and as she instinctively sucked her own desire out them, she heard the rip of tape then placed across her mouth.

She moaned, imaging what she must look like now - bound, blindfolded, now gagged, stuck on this contraption with no way of freeing herself. She'd never felt so small, yet so wanted. "It's funny - I really do appreciate the aesthetic of the classic ball gag, even bit gags. Ring gags are fun in their own way, but all they really do is take away your ability to communicate. Tape is so much better for suppressing the noise you make, even if it looks less appealing in and of itself. And I am going to make you scream."

With that she felt the whip crack of something across her ass, and it left a line of fire in its wake. She jumped, or tried to; and let out a squeak of surprise and pain, or tried to. The complete lack of her ability to even react just reinforced how helpless she was; how much control he'd taken of her. The second crack was less unexpected, but much harder; instinctively she knew it would leave a welt. She did manage to control her reaction, breathing heavily through her nose and quivering in place; she had a momentary flash of pride at being able to hold it together.

That was of course until the third strike hit; harder again and with much less time in between. She squirmed and screamed as hard as she could through the gag; and before she'd even finished the fourth landed. She tried to twist away from the blows and while her torso moved, her ass didn't. Several more blows rained down and she lost count; her ass was fire and she was screaming nonstop.

Eventually the assault stopped and she was able to stand, while not still perhaps, at least no longer trying to dodge blows she was unable to. She could feel her whole body shaking with the intensity, the pure pain of it all. After some time, and she had no idea how long that really was, she was able to calm her breathing. The tape had become much less tight across her mouth due to the saliva and screaming, and she was able to gulp gratefully large breaths.

She felt his hands trace up her thighs, and to her surprise he cunt responded instantly; through the pain it was held at bay, but her desire almost instantly sprang back to the fore at his simple touch. She could hear him chuckle slightly feeling at her wetness. "Oh yes, my little slut. You enjoyed that didn't you? Taking all of that for me?"

And she found herself nodding at his tone, the words not really registering in her overstimulated brain. His ministrations on her clit felt too good, and she was still reeling somewhat from the torment inflicted upon her ass. She tried to tell him how good she was; how desperate she was; all that came out was an unintelligible gurgle.

She heard him chuckle again, and felt his other hand grabbed at her breasts, kneading them, tweaking her nipples, while maintaining the constant motions on her clit. She felt herself moan, and he gripped her nipple tightly - too tightly, and she squealed and tried to shake him loose, but his iron grip he had only meant she hurt herself more.

"Your pain and pleasure are mine now. Don't forget that. If you fight it, you're only going to get one. And I'm sure you can figure out which one that will be, even as far gone as you are now."

She whimpered, and did her best to let it roll over her. Deep breaths. She idly felt herself gripping the opposite elbows in the tie in an effort to relieve the sensations; she forced herself let go. And suddenly, she could take it. She was His. Suddenly it crystallised in her head in some way, and she was able to let it all go. Ignore the blazing fire in her ass, ignore the sharp pains on her nipples. Just, let it all go.

And immediately she felt herself cum; all the pent up feelings just escaping through her cunt. She gasped and quivered and shuddered; she felt the pressure release from her nipples, and by the time she finally got herself under control she could hear him talking a few steps away from her.

"She's ready. Even easier than the last one, it's been less than an hour. Yeah, we'll make a packet on her, don't worry about it. She'd responded to everything, so the training will be easy. Yep, see you soon."

Her brain couldn't comprehend what that combination of words meant. She breathed heavily, and leaned in against him as he stood next to her while he groped her ass and felt the fire run through her; shivering in response. "You know, it really is surprising how easy it is to get you cunts in the right headspace, and all packaged up. You're going to go to sleep now and when you wake the you that walked into the hotel won't exist. Only the wanton whore. Just like I promised. Just as you want."

And this time she understood exactly what she heard. Which is why she couldn't understand how she started cumming again just as the sweet smelling rag was pressed over her mouth and nose.


The end