Bondage story - The Phantom of the Roxy - 43

Jessica was unaware of this calculated caution, in fact she was aware of very little at all. She was slipping in and out of that frame of mind where there was only sensation, where the crack of the whip against her naked, helpless body was like waves washing against the shore, lapping and receding, and the tormenting demons of shame and guilt were not even a memory. There was no distinction between pain and pleasure, and the blazing agony of the whip blended with the pressure of the thick dildos that flled her, building an increasing ardor within her. Again and again the burning sting of the lash striking a new place on her body would snap her out of that dreamy state for a few moments, re-awakening her to the pain of her ordeal, but then the endorphins would blanket her nerves in warmth and her instinct for submission would return her to her inner nirvana. Her body still reacted to each blow, jerking and clenching involuntarily as the whip seared her fesh, and her sensuous writhings were continuous. She still cried out with each whipstroke, as well, but sometimes her moans and squeals were sharp with urgency, and sometimes soft with desire. Her streaked body glistened with sweat, but the tears had ceased to fow from her eyes. She was beyond thought, unaware of the passage of time, foating in a sea of sensory overload.

She rose slowly, reluctantly to herself to fnd that the whipping had ended. The Whisperer was standing close in front of her, his hands stroking and squeezing her thighs and bottom, his hot breath on her wet pubis. His huge, erect cock was hot and naked, brushing against her fushed cheek and slack lips. Without being told, she opened her mouth wide, and the fat cockhead slipped inside. It felt good to have it inside her mouth once more, and she sucked and laved it lovingly.

Strong gloved hands smoothed her welted, glistening body, stroking her intimately in all the places the whip had kissed. Her outrage had vanished, her shame fed, and every touch brought only contented moans from her. Then she felt his hot tongue against the stretched, drawn fesh of her cord-bound pussy, and the sensation made her shudder with shocked pleasure. He licked her tormented pink hood for several long moments, then moved to the trembling pinkish- white pearl of her clit. The ultra-sensitive bud had been separated from its protective cowl by the pull of the tight cords, forced to stand naked and exposed through the entire whipping, but it had not been touched. Now, as the Whisperer’s tongue wrapped around it, the tiny nub fooded her with sensation so intense it bordered on pain. Her body shuddered and convulsed, and a muffed wail rose from her full mouth.

While Jessica did her best to pleasure her master’s cock with her mouth, his hot, cruel tongue tormented her captive clitoris with agonizing ecstasy. Never had the tiny button been laid bare like this, and forced to endure such direct and intense stimulation. The teasing lashes of his tongue were like strokes of the whip, so intense it was agony to her, and yet the pleasure was there, all the same, driving her inexorably toward orgasm. Her desire soared, and she sucked the massive cock in her mouth for all she was worth, even gagging herself on it as she tried to force it into the back of her throat.

The Whisperer denied her the orgasm that had seemed so inevitable. He could tell when she was nearly there, perhaps by the rising whimpers and groans that she couldn’t control, perhaps by the way her swollen clit throbbed against his tongue, and he lifted his mouth from her, only resuming his licking torture when her climax had receded once more. So intense was the sensation of his tongue against her bared clit that soon it only took two or three licks to bring her to the brink, and then he would wait before taking her there again. Over and over again he brought her almost to the culmination of ecstasy, then denied it. After ten minutes of this teasing torment Jessica was in tears, but still he wouldn’t let her come.

She sucked and slurped his cock ravenously, flling her senses with its thick, meaty mass, trying her best to pleasure it despite her own need. Had it not been flling her mouth she’d have begged him to let her come, but since it was there, hard and demanding, her instincts drove her to try to satisfy her master frst.

She felt as though he had brought her to the edge of orgasm a thousand times when at last the cock in her mouth swelled and pulsed like a fre hose when a hydrant is turned on, and then it began to spurt, flling her mouth and throat with hot, sticky cream. She swallowed for all she was worth, but it was hard to do upside down, and a gout of semen escaped her lips to trickle down her cheek. Above her, the Whisperer groaned hoarsely. Even as he came he had no voice.

When his orgasm was done, he stepped back and stood panting, momentarily exhausted. The dark cowl that hid his lower face was once more in place, though his torso glistened with sweat. Jessica gazed beseechingly up at him, reluctant now to beg, but hoping he would take pity on her and fulfll her need.

He didn’t. When he moved to her again, he unsnapped and removed her wristcuffs, then lifted her body in his arms. Unsnapping the ankle cuffs from which she’d hung for so long, he freed her from bondage and laid her on the mattress against the wall. She’d suffered no ill effects from hanging upside down for so long, but still it felt good to let her body re-orient itself. She was still intensely aware of the dildos inside her pussy and ass, but she made no move to untie the cords that held them there.

When the Whisperer approached her with her clothes and shoes in his hands, she rose abruptly onto her knees. Clasping her hands together behind her back and thrusting her whip-streaked breasts forward as he’d made her do the frst time she’d knelt here, she gazed up at him with wide, supplicating eyes.

“Please, Master,” she said in a sincere, pleading voice, “don’t send me away yet! Please, I… I want to… I- I’m so sorry I ran away! I wanted to go to you, but I… I just couldn’t do it! Please let me make it up to you. Please…”

The Whisperer’s eyes crinkled above his cowl, revealing that he was smiling, though there was little warmth in his gaze. He tossed aside the bundle of clothing and stepped closer to her. “You plead with me only because you desire what I have denied you,” he whispered.