Part Three: Warming up:
He sent me back to my hands and knees. Every move I made now shot a sharp burning pain to my tits. I whimpered as I turned away from him and gingerly brought my hands to the floor. I tried to relax, send my mind away from the pain, let myself begin to float. I felt the thud of the flogger against my back harder and harder he struck. My back warmed as the blood flowed to the surface of my skin, it was marvelous, save for every time the flogger connected my breasts would swing from the chain and the pain would zing through them. It was hard to separate the warmth from the flogger and the pinching burn of the clamps. Then the crop started tapping on my back. Tap, tap. Soft at first, then harder, i moaned in a myriad of pleasure and pain, my mind slowly drifting to another place.
He stopped for a moment, and I took a deep breath, calming myself, as I floated back into the present. He was in front of me holding the ball gag. I lifted my head so that he could buckle it on. He was pleased with my assistance and kissed my forehead as he tucked the gag into my mouth. My jaw was now forced open; the harness that held it was firmly fastened. He reached below me and released the clamps. The blood rushed to the tortured nipple, I groaned in agony as he cupped my heavy swaying breasts in his hand, rubbing and pinching the nipples.
I felt Master behind me he must have been kneeling. The crop had paused in its timpani assault. I suddenly felt pressure in the opening of my box, and a vibrator was plunged deeply down the tunnel. My body flooded with feathery delight with at the invasion of my sex. I moaned, and arched my body. Master’s words became more degrading as he pumped the vibrator in and out of me. Juices poured from my stuffed hole. The rhythm of his strokes was slow to start, but he increased his speed and his pressure. I squealed in delight, feeling my insides tighten to come to a climax.
He stopped, and I felt the crop land cruelly on my pussy. I was so hot, craving some kind of release from this torture of pleasure and pain. Trying to beg him through the gag to please please let me cum. I felt the vibrator tickle my pussy, gently prodding my clit, sending me higher, teasing my tender pearl. The torture of pleasure was as hard to bare and the torture of pain. Controlling my desire to succumb to the electricity that was charging my body, not allowing my release, trying to ease the powerful rushes that flew through me. I wanted to cum. I begged to cum. I pleaded. But permission was not granted. Instead, the rhythm of the crop and the flogger returned, to taunt and torture me some more.
