I still myself when I feel his thumb lining up. I suck in breaths, awaiting the glorious doom.
“This is going to stretch,” Master says. “It will make the ribbon pull tight, and the needles bite those tender pussy lips. It’s going to tear you a little. Do you understand?”
I nod for him.
“Answer me, Holly.”
“Yes, I understand.”
He pushes in, right to the knuckles.
“Is this what you want, Holly? Do you want to tear for me?”
I find the fire of hardcorer in the depths of me. My speared clit is singing as I answer my master.
“I want you to make my pretty laced cunt hurt so fucking bad for you, Master. I want you to make it as beautiful as you can.”
“That’s our girl, Holly. That’s our girl.”
It’s like the gates of Hell bursting open when my master pops his fist in my ass past the knuckles. He sinks in to the wrist, and my cry is so loud, echoing all around me. It really does make my cunt strain.
Everything is savage.
Everything is beautifully grotesque as he fist fucks me until I’m a used up fucking wreck.
His mouth drops to my laced-up cunt and he laps the ribbons, digging his tongue in to tease my speared clit, and even through the agony, it works. I come for him all over again.
I come for my fucked-up master like I’m in dreamland.
And then the cycle reverses.
He tugs his hand out of my ass and takes his gloves off. He unties the bow on my cunt and takes off the ribbon.
Every needle is a slice of cutting pain as it’s pulled free.
I wail like a banshee when the one is pulled from my clit, and Master gives me a gentleshh, getting to work on my thighs.
Other hands join in to help. Both ladders on my ribs being pulled out in sync, two needles at a time, until it’s only my throbbing tits remaining. Master gives me a countdown from five until the needles are taken from my nipples, and I’m still reeling as the rest are pulled out. Circle after circle after circle.
My legs are unshackled and lowered before my tits are set free of their bindings, but my bandy thighs are useless, so strong hands hold me steady. I grit my teeth under my hood, and curse obscenities as the final twine is unravelled, and my tits are allowed to fall free.
Jesus fucking Christ, it’s agony when the blood starts flowing back into them. They are going to be fucked for days. Bruised for fucking weeks.
“Time’s up now, Holly,” Master says. “You’ll be escorted out now and helped with the aftercare. Then you’ll be driven home.”
“Thank you, Master,” I manage to say, and my shackled wrists are undone.
I’m lucky enough to be able to hold on to two strong elbows as I’m guided from the room. My legs are still bandy when I hear the original voice of the night sayingthank you, I’ll take it from here.
“Are you ok?” he asks as he guides me down onto a soft seat.
“Yes, thanks. I mean, kind of.” I have the post subspace giggles, as I struggle for words. “Yeah. I’m ok.”
“Let’s get you a drink.”
He hands me an open bottle of water, and loosens my hood just enough to let me take a sip from inside.
“I’m going to be using some antiseptic wipes now,” he tells me. “They might sting a little.”
