I reached into the top drawer of my desk and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. I clipped them on each wrist and tightened them down until they nearly pinched. “Have at it, sinning doll. Work for your end.”
She didn’t wait.
As soon as I gave her the word, she started grinding herself against my thigh, moving her hips, pushing herself down, leaning back, her hands finding her right breast and squeezing hard.
I tried to return to my work, I truly did, butfuck.
Instead, I leaned back and watched her. Watched as she moved and lurched and sped up her own rhythm. For a woman who was never given anything her entire life, she learned about herself very quickly. She knew how she liked it, what her body needed the most to enjoy the feelings she got. She craved the attention, the pain, the rush.
She wanted it all.
And who was I if not a doting husband?
After a minute, she started whimpering, her body shaking, her feet stretching up on their toes. She had pulled her dress down to reveal her breasts, squeezing and twisting, even going as far as to find the bruises I had left before and pressing into them.
I could feel her arousal and the lube soaking my pants around the straps, my cock fighting to break free, my nails digging into the arms of the chair as I watched her unblinkingly cum just for me.
She shook and writhed, moaning softly into the room before she collapsed.
But before her body even fell into mine, I was shoving her up and into the desk.
I threw her dress up and tore my belt out, wrapping it around her neck and cinching it down.
She whimpered again, her hair pooling over her tits and the desk, her pussy dripping wet.
I pulled my cock out and leaned over her, pressing her hips hard against the edge of my desk. “You’re not done yet, my divine little whore.”
I leaned back and pushed my cock into her, watching it disappear into her tight cunt.
She shook in need, shoving her hips back the best she could only to be shoved back painfully, my cock sinking into her far quicker than I wanted.
She panted and I tightened my hold on the end of my belt, pulling her head back, cutting off her air.
I grabbed onto the desk just beside her hips and started fucking the energy right out of her. I forced myself balls deep, knowing that she still wasn’t used to it. I tightened the belt, knowing that she couldn’t breathe. I slammed into her without remorse, knowing that it would leave bruises on her hips.
And she cried tears of joy.
She spread her legs, begging for me to go deeper.
She pushed her hips up.
She removed her blindfold, pulling at her own hair, and looked down, watching her tits bounce while she held onto the desk.
She groaned while her face turned cherry red.
“That’s it, Scar, this is what you get when you beg.”
Present Day
I wondered if she had put together by now that my cock had a few modifications to it. Pearls embedded into the entire length of the top of my shaft, an apadravya, and a deep shaft. I was a slut for pain too.
She had gauze wrapped around the small cuts I had made on her arms and legs. The upside down cross on her chest was scabbed over now, but still a little red around the edges, so doctor Manson was staying an extra night to keep an eye on it, although I didn’t think it had an infection. It was difficult to keep her skin from looking red and blotchy when I had her shackled, chained, and pressed up against every surface in this place.
I was ready for another session, but I had other things to deal with before church tomorrow, and she needed the rest.
Two hours later, I was driving up to the building I had once called a place of dwelling.
Red was waiting for me at the top of the stairs, frowning. “Where have you been for the last week?”
