She is high on the train of thrill, and I am going to ride it with her.
The next time she has it in fully, I let go of the choker chain, grab her head around the back and push the gun in further. So far, her teeth hit the trigger guard.
She gags. Nearly vomits. As she should. She tries to fight me, but there is no getting away. I count to ten, and then I let go, pull the gun out and throw it on a drawer.
She gasps and falls forward on her arms.
I open my blouse.
“Crawl on the bed,” I order her.
She looks up, her eyes burning with fire, and right this moment, I know it. I know I have found my match. Because after all that happened, she does not crawl. Instead, she kneels, gets up, head slightly tilted, a smug grin on her face, walks to me, grabs my face with one hand, and kisses me. Provoking me.
Her lips meet mine, and I am ripped apart. Desire is consuming me, but I cannot let her. I cannot.
I grab her throat, my nails digging into her skin, and push her away. Slowly. Controlling. Dominating. I drag her over to the bed and throw her on it.
“Next time you try something like this, I will fix you and haveyou fucked nonstop for 24 hours with the fucking machine in all your holes.”
She giggles darkly.
“You laugh now,” I say. “Death will feel preferable. You will be so dry your holes will bleed and rip apart with every thrust.”
She giggles again.
“You know what,” I say, “I am giving you a taste.”
I walk over to the drawer, get a strap on, take the biggest dildo I have in girth and length, take ropes, a spreader bar and walk over to her.
I throw everything next to her on the bed. She lies on her belly, presenting me her ass. She’s begging for it.
I smack it.
She moans in the sheets.
I climb onto her and sit down on her back like a rider on a horse.
I make a sling of the rope and put it around her wrists—then, I pull. It closes forcefully around them.
I stand on the bed and slip the end of the rope through a ceiling hook. And pull her up. Just enough so she can kneel.
Next, I take the spreader bar and fix her legs in the leather cuffs.
I take a quick look at my work before I spread the bar.
She arches and grunts.
It hurts, exactly as it should.
I slide down my trousers but leave the underwear on. Strap-ons can be a pain, and a bit of fabric in between is always good.
“Suck it,” I say and hold the dildo for her to lubricate. She stares at it with big eyes.
“I said suck, I am not repeating myself.”
She opens her mouth, and it barely fits in there, only half of it in length, and the corners of her mouth stretch.
She might finally realise what she has gotten herself into.
