Ally’s yelps, whimpers, and occasional screams were surprisingly effective at drowning out the sound of the drill actively bringing the flog across her clit. They were much less effective at tuning out the slapping sounds of several leather straps coming down onto her reddening flesh. I had given her the option of the electric screwdriver, but she was in an incredible state of desperation and need today – no doubt a product of me allowing her to play with herself but not cum for the two days we were apart. Our schedules had misaligned, and while I usually let her play however she wants (with the occasional caveat that allows me to maintain control from a distance) I had denied her requests for release. See, the thing is, Ally HATES being teased for extended periods, so I knew this was going to drive her crazy. But, I also knew that if I promised a masochist that I would hurt her, she’d be more than happy to oblige me. I unplugged the drill, slowing the spinning leather straps to a halt, as I inspected the artificially heated skin of Ally’s pussy. Ally’s eyes were glazed over in a daze, as I placed my fingers gently upon her vulva. After tearing up her flesh, my fingers were more than enough to continue to inflict pain. Ally began to moan as I massaged the pained area. Before she could fully recover from her surface wounds, I withdrew my touch. Ally’s hips bucked towards my fingers as much as the restraints that bound her would allow. “I’m sorry, my little pain slut. Master’s not quite done breaking you.” Ally’s eyes shot open, pleading, desperate, but not for relief from the pain. “Please, master. Please break your pain slut. Make your whore desperate for more intensity.” I rubbed my thumb along Ally’s cheek, reassuring her that her pleas would be answered. A peck on her lips, before I moved onto the second phase.
Ally was completely enveloped in the act. Her ass had a vibrating plug inside, keeping a separate rhythm to the crop I brought down upon her voluminous breasts. The rythm of those two forms of pleasure were different still to the flogging that was keeping her clit on fire. I felt bad torturing the beautiful brunette so harshly. My only solace was the moans mixed into her cries of pain – the smallest reminder that the pain only served to bring her deeper into subspace. I wasn’t torturing her needlessly. This was, in fact, exactly what she needed. The variety of the sensations and the impact they brought with them – that was what turned her into a mindless mess, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. I prayed her orgasms would come quickly and overwhelm her in new sensations, so that I could finally hold her in my arms – finally release her from the pain she secretly desired. As much as I enjoyed making my slut completely wanton, I wanted my girl back.
*disclaimer: these stories are based on real scenarios between me and my slut. She even insisted I add this disclaimer to our stories.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/vqwu26/from_passion_to_pain_part_14_mf_age_gap_bdsm