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First Meeting with a Sadist.
Part 6
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Barefoot, he quietly approaches her sleeping form. Still spread wide in the gyno chair, he notices a thin layer of sweat shimmering on the surface of her flesh. Her features are pulled tight into a scowl as the swelling tide of lust churns violently within her. Her eyes are opened wide and directed at the ceiling. A large mirror is secured above her and cruelly reflects her tortured image. Pitiful cries are heavily laden with anguish. Even when she manages to steal a few minutes rest, her body shamelessly writhes in search of fulfillment.
She wakes with a start, momentarily forgetting her new station in life. As realization dawns, her mind grapples with all that has been done to her and all that is left to be done. Although securely tied down, her limbs shake, hips thrash, and breasts quiver, all in an effort to silently seduce him into fucking her.
She teeters on the edge of madness, held hostage by a profound despair that leaves her unable to focus on any single thought beyond her need for pleasure. He silently retires to his bedroom, satisfied in the knowledge that she will most likely simmer as the night hours slowly pass.
The basement is pitch black, damp, and cool. Chill bumps speckle the surface of her flesh. Devoid of windows, she has no idea of the time of day, for that matter, what day of the week and how long she has been alone in the room.
She is fully immersed in his world, first and foremost, to satisfy his needs and secondly, to become the epitome of a masochist to please him. Her unmet needs are of no concern to him. It seems like a match made in heaven for both of them, him coming four or five times a day; she being the quintessential pain slut … relentlessly craving cock to suck and fuck.
He is neither comfortable nor happy with even the smallest hint of “vanilla” in his daily life. His financial situation leaves him comfortable, but that could change in the blink of an eye should he become “soft” while training his personal slave. Her reason for living is to serve him. And serve him she will.
The overhead lights edge up a few notches just enough to keep her from a sound sleep. She has time, plenty of time, to wrap her head around her new role in life as his sex slave and pain slut. Fate, like waves crashing into shore, has dealt her a hard blow, at least from her perspective. His perspective, well, he seems immensely satisfied owning and keeping her locked in his cellar.
An intense throbbing seethes within her sex. It seems as though her brain cannot process this new unmet need. The good doctor made sure that she would always crave cocks by customizing her body to better satisfy men and keep her womanly areas exposed and sexed up.
Desire festers within her like an infected oozing wound; her cunt a leaky faucet constantly dripping her essence with no end in sight. If only she could masturbate and satisfy herself maybe then she can get a good night’s rest, or at the very least, satiate her sexual hunger.
The sun rises and a spring breeze gently flaps the drapes in his bedroom. Stretching and taking deep gulps of fresh air, he slowly wakes. His cock is rock hard and his balls are heavy with unspent juices. He rises and gets coffee started then pads lightly down the cellar steps to his slave. He wakes her with splashes of icy cold water and laughs as she sputters and coughs up the water she inhaled.
He motions for her to take his cock into her mouth and she does willingly. Perhaps if she gives him a really great blow job, he will allow her out of the dark, dank room and take her upstairs to his bed. As her lips closes around his harden cock, he once again is surprised at how wonderful her mouth feels.
She teases the long hard stem as though playing a symphony with her tongue. Her mouth mimics thousands of musical notes and like a wunderkind, her cock-sucking expertise is flawless. As he nears eruption, she squeezes his cock tightly and draws it to the back of her throat. Sucking huge swigs of air and swallowing quickly, she is able to coax semen upwards to his tip.
Pressing her tongue inside his slit, she draws the boiling semen to his tip. He clutches her head with both hands and slams her face into his groin. Pumps of steamy cum fills the back of her throat and she swallows every drop until he is completely spent.
A dreadful ache creeps into her arms and legs as she trembles with unrequited arousal. At last, when her body is unable to accept him depriving her of an orgasm, he relents. Circling around her body, he allows the tension to mount and glares at her. He lifts the two-prong leather splitter and slams it into her enlarged and extended clit.
Four, five, six times, each stroke comes fast and hard-hitting and creates a devastating inferno between her spread thighs. Her body literally swells and aches for more, anything, just as long as he touches her. Wide-eyes clearly depict her pain but deceptively so. Yes, it hurts badly, but she craves that pain and welcomes each brutal stroke as it connects with her flesh.
When he finishes his unwarranted cunt whipping, she is strung out, writhing, and gasping as she waits for him to turn his full attention back to her. He fondles her freshly beaten cunt, reveling as she cringes with the additional layers of pain.
Soon, tears fall unchecked down her cheeks and follow the contour of her throat before collecting on the chair beneath her. Her near-silent whimpers are music to his ears. He knows, absolutely knows without a doubt that fresh cunt juices are seeping between her spread thighs.
Her belly quivers as she remains lewdly splayed out, her sex clearly exposed, while her breasts swell with milk and her nipples harden with desire. Waves of pleasure overpower her as she reaches the high tide of her lust and rides the upsurge. Contractions shake her body ruthlessly. Tears flood her eyes. Saliva drools from her mouth. And her liquid, the very essence of her womanhood, spews in all directions with impressive force. The mind-blowing surge of orgasmic pleasure fills her mind and soul as she revels in the sensations.
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