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Tales 12

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Tales Vol.9

Deep Waters

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Challenge of Love

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Coming of Age

In The Dark II

Breanne's Three - Chicago BDSM

The Society of the Golden Rose

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Michael Alexander Stories

Choose Your Own Destiny - The Club

 

16a – Over A Barrel

With Breanne firmly in your grasp, you head over to the barrel station, fully intending to finish things off with the red haired vixen and release your pent up tensions.  It takes you a moment to figure out the intricate restraint system in place, but Breanne helps by moving into position, her buttocks pressed against the overly large wooden spool.  She spreads her legs without a single command and for a moment you consider punishing her for the transgression.  Instead you quickly attach two metal carabineers to her ankle cuffs. Each metal clip is attached to a thin but strong cord that disappears into the floor.  You can hear the whirl of a pulley, and from the way Breanne's legs are pulled farther apart, it's apparent that there is some serious tension being placed on the line.  Next you push on Breanne, callously placing a hand on her tender breast as you bend her backward over the barrel.  It rolls slightly, but since its sitting in a special trough it doesn't move that far.  Around on the other side you pull out the metal clips for her wrist cuffs, tugging out several feet of tension filled cord, quickly attaching it to Breanne's arms.  The barrel rolls in the trough and in seconds Breanne is bent over it backward, her belly button pointing straight up to the sky, her arms and legs outstretched and wide. 

The small table that holds the various toys of torment has a unique variety of whips and clamps, of dildos and vibrators.  You notice the vibroballs, with their long thin wire leading to an over powered remote.  There is an unopened package containing a small purple butterfly shaped stimulator, designed to be placed over a girl’s clit.  There are ben wa balls, cock rings, and vibrators, yet it is the two telescoping poles, each topped with an adjustable cable, similar to the ones holding Breanne's wrists and ankles, that attract your attention.  Each line ends in vicious looking clamps, perfect for Breanne’s nipples.  It only takes you a few moments to find the appropriate holes in the floor near her head.  Each pole drops into the inset with a clack and you run your hands down the line until your fingers find the clamp.  Each alligator clamp has a thin sheath of plastic around the teeth, but a quick pinch of your finger assures that these will hurt if placed on a delicate enough spot.  With a grin, you place the first clamp on Breanne's breast, enjoying the gasp and cry as she shakes in her bonds.  The tension on the line literally pulls her breast up and outward, strictly in conflict with gravity.  Breanne's head is bent backward and you can't help thinking how amazing she looks.  The other breast quickly follows and your fingers touch her, caressing the undersides of her bosom.

Back at the table you select a thin whipping cane.  For a second you consider going right to your intended target, but instead move down to her feet.  With sharp flicks of your wrist you smack the narrow rod against the soft soles of her feet, especially in the arch between her heel and toes.  She tugs and pulls and you quickly press your foot down on the small red foot button next to the pulley, locking her leg in place.  More strokes quickly turn the bottom of her foot red, with little harsh lines crisscrossing the entire sole.  You move around to the other foot and lock it in place as well.  Soon her cries turn to sob filled gasps as you beat the tender parts of her foot.  Despite the cries you know that you haven't really damaged her, and within an hour she'll be strutting around in her high heels, no doubt tempting another man to repeat this same sort of abuse.  You move up her body with the cane, tapping it against her thighs, then her clit, then her stomach.  Each tap has no force behind it. It is just a friendly beast to tell her where the cane is.  But she jumps anyway.  When you rest the cane against the undersides of her tits she suddenly realizes what you are intending and she tenses.

The stroke lands perfectly and you can hear the slight snick of the impact as the cane cuts across the undersides of both breasts.  A thin line appears immediately and Breanne cries out.  You realize that not only did the impact of the cane hurt, but the tension filled lines, clamped to her breasts, reacted immediately to the stroke.  Her cries punctuate the beating and it's not long before the undersides of her breasts are a mass of scarlet lines.  You move around toward her face.  Her delicate chin is pointed upward and her head tilts back toward the floor.  Her pool of red hair has spilled across the concrete.  In what can only be called callous and spiteful, you lay the cane across her tits, softly of course.  To use the very flesh that you recently were targeting to hold the cane is cruel.  You reach down to your trousers and quickly unbutton them.  In moments your cock is out, hard as concrete and standing at attention.  Her head is almost exactly in the right position and it's nothing to go ahead and ram your shaft into her mouth and down her throat.

She chokes and gags, certainly not used to sucking cock in such an inverted, stretched, and terrible position.  You can see her throat pulsing as she tries to swallow your entire length and you pump in and out of her mouth, skull fucking her, rather than allowing her to do most of the work.  As you move in and out, your fingers reach forward and pick up the cane, tapping it with ever harder flicks against the clamps biting horribly into her breasts.  Her moans and squeals are muted by your shaft and you enjoy the vibrations that come with her cries. 

As good as it feels, it is not enough and you lean forward, lifting your arm, swinging the cane downward.  It strikes her stomach, causing her to tense.  Your next stroke is even lower, the end of the cane impacting almost directly in her spread open slit.  Her cry of agony and ecstasy rumbles through your cock and you see her clit swell.  She is already tender and red, but a few additional light strokes of your cane take her over the edge and she jerks and trembles in her bonds.  Still, through it all, her mouth continues to suck on your cock. 

Finally you pull out, giving her clit a final tap as you move around her body.  You can hear her gasping as you position yourself between her legs.  Her pussy is spread wide, totally wet, and incredibly tender.  The application of the condom is quick.  You press the spit soaked head of your cock against her opening and begin to push, eliciting a groan of pleasure from the tortured and bound beauty.  Sliding in feels incredible, surrounding your cock with a soft wet heat.  Pumping causes the barrel to roll slightly, stretching her limbs even more perfectly and placing more pressure on her clamped nipples.  You settle down into a steady push, loin to loin as you finally screw Breanne with relish.

You are skilled, and your coitus is paced.  Wishing neither to hurry nor to slow down, you repeatedly enter Breanne with regular thrusts, entering at the same speed and depth each time.  At the eighteenth push, Breanne reacts differently, trying to redirect her own body toward you, indicating her desperation.  Grinning, you alter your stroke to minimize her movement, keeping to the steady pace and depth.  There is more to torturing a beautiful woman than just whipping her, or clamping her breasts.  Even such enjoyable pleasures as actual fucking can be used against her, turning her own needs into the vehicle of torment.  It takes great will power, but the delight you experience in watching this girl bound before you become more and more wrapped in the anxiety of need, the more you resolve to prolong it.  Each thrust costs you little, your weight and motion supported and aided by the rolling barrel.  Breanne however feels each thrust as a body tensing whole, her pussy begging for harder and faster thrusts, while each nipple cries out.  She doesn’t even realize that “harder and faster” will only result in more painful tugs on each nipple.  From her soft mewling and mutters of “please” you know she her mind is no longer analyzing her sensations, only responding.

Five minutes, then ten, and then even an incredible fifteen go by.  Each moment brings Breanne closer to the edge of insanity as you keep pounding away.  The steady pressure and gliding movement of her warm and wet well over your cock finally is more than you can take either.  You ram in deeply, changing your thrusting pattern and Breanne moans in response, obviously wanting more.  But you are no longer thinking of her needs, or her body, but your own.  Your hips dance against her as you work yourself harder, coming closer to your own eruption.  Tremors seem to shake your loins as you impale this red haired beauty, her tits tugged painfully outward with each thrust.

When you cum it’s a release like no other.  Your cock shudders inside her, turning from concrete to granite and you pound away.  You feel the ribbons of release, the shuddering flow from your shaft as if fills the condom.  You bury yourself deeply, letting the tension flow out of you.

Breanne’s whimper as you pull out is so filled with anguish and wanton lust that for a second you feel sorry for her.  She is so clearly desperate, her body a taut string close to breaking.  You ponder the possibilities.  You are too spent yourself to give her release, but …

You contemplate leaving Breanne here to stew.  An extra hundred dollar bill will no doubt earn you the attendant’s services.  You could plug her with a set of the powerful vibroballs and a place a butterfly clitoral vibrator on her clitoris and then ask the attendant not to let Breanne up for another half an hour, regardless of however many orgasms she has. (17a)

Real sexual torture is not about release, but denial.  Instead of setting things up for her orgasm, merely release her bonds, not giving her the satisfaction.  You are TRULY wicked. (17b)