She laid there curled up in my arms, shaking like the
fragile leaf she was. Tears streaking
down her face as the release she felt overcame her entire being. We had used her hard, my boy and I, and she
came through with flying colors.
When she comes over, she always walks in so shy and fearful,
remembering the words we would tell her.
She relaxes a bit as we chit chat and catch up. We push a few buttons with nothing more than
words and watch as her shame comes back to the fore front as she admits what
she wants, what she needs. Her face
turns a light shade of red as she is forced to stand and strip in the middle of
the room as we watch. Her entire body
quivers at first touch and we watch as her mind slowly disappears as we begin
to explore. Just as she is about to completely
lose herself to the pleasures, I roughly shove her down to her knees, then on
to all fours. I watch her body tremble
with anticipation as I step back and just stare. Then it begins…
She is beaten to the edge and sweetly pulled back over and
over again. The tears begin in earnest. The assault of hands, floggers, and my crop
begin to leave their marks. I stuff her
mouth with my boy’s cock to stifle her screams.
Focusing on it, she begins using his cock as a distraction from the
pain. I watch with interest at how her
whole body settles down to the task at hand.
The shaking subsides; the flinching from my blows becomes more
controlled. I slow my strikes to allow
him to thoroughly enjoy her skilled mouth for bit, before launching one last
brutal assault on her ass. When the edge
in her voice lets me know she’s had more than enough, I grab a fist full of
hair and drag her to her feet.
Instructing my boy to stand behind her, locking her arms behind her back
and to hold her still, I continue my assault on her chest. Enjoying the way her large, heavy breast
bounce after each smack, I become almost giddy with pleasure at the site. I take my time, seeing her as nothing but a
toy for my amusement as I beat, pinch, bite and suckle her breasts till I have
had my fill.
After a short break, we drag her up to the bedroom. There she is turned into nothing more than a
thing, an object, the target of our lust and passion. Used until she was sure she couldn’t handle
anymore and then used a bit more. When
at last we finish with her, she has nothing left, but to curl into a ball,
smiling from ear to ear with tears streaking down her face. I wrap myself around her and feel her squirm
into me, needing my warmth for reassurance, her tears falling from her cheeks
onto my breast. That’s my good girl!
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