Love by the Numbers By Ladyvet Trickles of sweat ran into my eyes, stinging them, blurring our reflections in the mirrored wall. I couldn't wipe them. All I could do was blink and wait for my tears to soothe them. I was tightly restrained between the pillars, shoulders aching, arms stretched straight out from my sides. I studied our blurry reflections, intrigued by the contrast between His muscular black nakedness and my slender, half dressed pale blondeness. I looked into His reflected eyes and nodded. The whip slammed against my back and curled around my ribs, tracing a line of fire just below my breasts. I bit down on the ball gag and screamed silently in my head. The welt turned crimson immediately. I still felt only pain but I knew the pleasure would follow once the pain became intense enough. He waited patiently for me to nod again, requesting another blow. He shows me the whips he's selected before we begin a scene and tells me how many lashes he'll inflict with each so I can pace myself. It could be over quickly or take hours; it's up to me to determine the timing of His blows, how long my pleasure/pain will last. The only exception is a thin cane, which He sometimes uses on my breasts. He may strike them many times or just a few. I dread even a single blow from it. More even than the physical pain, I dread hearing Him tell me He's punishing them for being ugly. He'd already used the horsetail whisk, a crop, a cat and a buggy whip on my naked torso, ignoring my sweaty, still-clothed lower body. I'd counted the lashes to my back and stomach. I knew the next would come from a different, heavier whip, one that would really hurt. I felt the first, faint stirring of pleasure in anticipating the pain. He worked my tight, sweat soaked jeans and panties down to my feet. I hate the humiliation of being restrained with my clothes around my ankles but He likes me this way. My useless clothing emphasizes my helplessness and confirms His complete dominance over me. I spread my thighs as far as I could and moved my hips, begging Him to caress me. He pressed His hardness against my ass, reached around me and touched me just above my clit, where the top of the barbell stud protruded from my flesh. I moved against His fingertip, trying to get Him to rub the slick, hot flesh around my clit. I could no longer stand to have it stimulated directly. The thick, rough-textured stud running the length of my clit inside the hood keeps it raw, supersensitive, a little trickle of excitement ready to turn into a torrent of pain at even the lightest touch. It made me think of a rabid dog, obsessed with water but unable to approach it. The ring bumped His hand and drowned my pleasure in a flood of agony. I couldn't bear another touch! I thrust myself back, away from His finger. He wasn't ready to let me experience the last whip. Andre lifted my breasts by their rings and jiggled them until my nipples darkened and contracted. Satisfied that my attention was focused on my breasts, He picked up the dreaded cane and slashed the air with it like a rapier, dashing my hopes that He would spare me. The cane was unbearable before I developed a tolerance for it. Now it was merely excruciating. My breasts had always been sensitive. Andre's discipline had made them much more so. Having them fondled and sucked had given me incredible pleasure on the rare occasions when I let a boy do it. I got even more from slapping and squeezing them ut I couldn't ask a boy to abuse me. I had enough trouble getting dates with my thin, too-long legs and boyish hips. Who'd date me if the word got around that I was some sort of freak as well? Andre's touch intensified the ever-present ache in the centers of my breasts and started my arousal! He flexed the cane and let me anticipate the pain before He smacked the upper contour of my left breast. Unlike a whip which burned the surface of my skin, the cane instantly thrust its energy deep into the tissue to form a pulsing, aching knot. I looked down at my breast, surprised as always that the cane hurt so terribly while leaving such a slight mark on my skin. The bruises took a while to surface. He smacked it twice a bit lower, spreading the ache downward to fill my nipple. I flinched and pulled back from the third blow. It hit my nipple ring with a loud click. "You know better than to move around!" He admonished. "Stand properly!" I took a deep breath, arched my back and thrust out my chest. "That's better. Act like you're proud of your pitiful, ugly little saggers." That stung as much as the cane. I had never been proud of my tiny breasts but they had at least been perky and pointed. Now I hated the way they looked. Andre commanded me to hold still while He give me the extra discipline my flinching had earned. The next four blows landed at the top of the areola. I remained as still as I could but the pain was so intense I couldn't help moving around. He waited between blows for me to stop so He could place the cane precisely where He wanted it. The final blow landed squarely on my nipple. The ring amplified the pain, which overflowed my breast and soaked into my chest. Andre paused to let me catch my breath before He caned the right side. Tears flooded my eyes, ran down my cheeks and splashed my breasts. I felt every drop that landed on them. He put aside the cane and stood behind me with the whip. My upper body pulsed with agony but I needed still more pain to get where I needed to be. I needed enough to fill my lower body, too. I nodded, asking Him for it, praying that it wouldn't take too long to turn to pleasure. The sharp hiss of darting leather sliced the silence. This blow fell across my ass. The supple leather wound itself around my body and cracked loudly against my mons. It was hard enough to have split the skin if I'd been shaven. The gag muffled my scream almost completely, allowing only a hissing groan to disturb the quiet of the room. The pain crawled upward to join the throbbing in my breasts and diffused through my abdomen, fanning the embers between my legs. I nodded again. The whip struck my upper back and wrapped around my chest. A new layer of pain flared through my breasts. I watched the crimson welt spring up above my nipples. My breasts felt like drops of liquid fire were running down them. The rings seemed to thicken as my nipples contracted harder around them. Wetness began to ooze between my labia. My clit still hummed like a tuning fork from His earlier touch. The pain mixed with an intense tingling. I looked at His strong, beautiful body and yearned to feel Him inside me. I squeezed my thighs together and surrendered to the overpowering urge to rotate my hips. I needed Him so desperately now that I couldn't have Him! He needed me, too. His hardness proved that. He needed me, but not as much He needed to dominate me. He derived great psychological pleasure from keeping me aroused until He was ready to grant me release in a storm flying leather and terrible pain that turned to pleasure only after it became nearly unbearable. The ready warmth of my mouth and hands satisfied Him physically. Our initial passion had cooled after several years of marriage. We were still in love and committed to one another but we needed some variety to spice up our relationship. Bondage had been my idea. It came to me while I lay beside Him reading a very graphic bondage scene in a novel. I enjoyed having Andre hold my wrists over my head while we made love. The thought of having sex with my hands tied while His were free to do as He wished was a real turn on. I asked Him if He'd ever tried bondage. He put down the brief and looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. "Isn't that sort of thing for sickos?" "Not necessarily," I replied. "I'm not one, am I?" He mumbled something and went back to work. I put the book away and lay there for a while but I was too aroused to sleep. I rubbed His thigh. He ignored me. I'd given Him head that morning so I was the only one who was horny. I got up, took a couple of silk scarves from the dresser, went into the bathroom and tied them around my wrists. He didn't even look up when I returned. I slipped under the covers, took Him in my mouth and sucked Him to hardness. That got His attention! He loved to finish in my mouth. I stopped when He tensed and started to tremble, put my head on the pillow, smiled at Him and said "good night." He pushed the blanket down and gripped himself. "Come on, Catherine, quit teasing me. Finish what you started." I shook my head. "Not tonight. I'm not in the mood." I put my hands behind my head so He could see the scarves. "You were serious about wanting me to tie you up, weren't you?" I wrapped my fingers around the headboard and said "that's the only way you're getting any tonight, Lover!" He tied the right scarf under the knob near the top of the bedpost, looped the other one around the left bedpost and pulled it so hard He dragged me sideways, stretching my arms so tightly that they didn't even touch the bed. He knotted the right scarf and asked me how I liked it so far. A wave of delicious excitement surged through me when I tried to move my arms! I was totally helpless! I squirmed beneath Him, pulled Him against me with my legs and begged Him to make love to me. He did, so long and hard I was sore for a week. I got hot all over again just looking the purple-green bruises on my wrists during the next few days! I was sorry when they faded. I loved the entire bondage experience; surrendering myself, allowing Andre to have me, control me and yes, even hurt me if He wished. He loved it even more. The nipple rings were also my idea. Andre was a self- proclaimed leg man but He never missed an opportunity to ogle a well developed chest. It really got on my nerves one day when I caught Him soon after we were married. I confronted Him. "Can you explain why you married me if big tits are such a turn on?" He laughed and replied (only half jokingly, I thought) that my legs made the rest bearable. I was happy that He liked my legs but "the rest" felt left out. It made me jealous when He admired other women's breasts. I wanted to do something to make Him pay attention to mine. Augmentation surgery was definitely out. Andre said big plastic ones would turn Him on less than my little, flat ones did. It hurt my feelings but I understood the problem. How could I expect Him to be turned on by my breasts when I hated the way they looked, too? We saw a woman with pierced nipples in a video. Andre commented on how sexy they looked. It was worth a try. We both loved the way they looked and the way they made my nipples stand out. We jumped into bed as soon as we got home from having it done. He accidentally pulled one while we were making love and to our surprise, the pain gave me an instant, intense orgasm. It wasn't lost on Him. Andre got hooked on body jewelry as quickly as He had on bondage. We had two rings placed in each of my inner labia a month later. Andre had a chain chastity belt made for me that circled my waist, passed through my labial rings and locked to the ones in my nipples. It made masturbation difficult and wearing a bra and using tampons impossible. He reveled in the endless discomfort and embarrassment it caused me and forbid me leave the house without it. I padded the chains where they pressed into the tops of my hip bones with strips of silk. Andre forbid me to put anything between the chain and my clit and labia. I resisted when He told me that He wanted me to have my clit hood pierced but He was adamant that we commemorate our first anniversary that way. I wanted a small ring which would nestle unobtrusively in the folds of my labia. He chose a barbell stud with a small diamond pattern like a nail file positioned so that it lay along the top of my clit with one ball against the head and the other exiting at the top of my labial fold. It hurt constantly for the first few weeks, then the pain subsided to wait coiled and ready for a touch to awaken it so it could sink its needle sharp fangs into me. Even worse, the stud caused an insistent tingling, which goaded me to brave the pain and touch myself. The rings and stud kept me terminally horny. The stud stimulated me when I walked or sat. Every activity was an erotic adventure! I was always ready to make love and I always climaxed when we did. Unfortunately, Andre wasn't nearly as anxious to have sex. I bought a vibrator and used it each afternoon after work. I couldn't always achieve a climax by holding it against the chain through my labial rings but that was all I could do. My clit was too sensitive to stimulate directly. Andre came home early one day and caught me. He seized the plastic phallus from me and dropped it, still buzzing, on the rug next to the bed. I opened my legs and begged Him to unlock me and make love to me. He wasn't in the mood. He lay down beside me without touching me and asked, "what's the matter, Catherine? Couldn't you wait until I got home?" Very funny! He knew how incredibly aroused I was all the time and that I needed a lot more attention than He was giving me. Even worse, He'd gotten heavily into having me satisfy Him with my mouth, after which He expected me to make do with His hand. It didn't satisfy me as completely as intercourse even when I managed to come. It was the sexual equivalent of Chinese food; I was horny again an hour later. I told Him so, ending with "This isn't working for me. The stud and chastity belt are driving me crazy and so are you! I want to get rid of them and go back to the way we were." He listened impassively. I nuzzled His neck and wrapped my hand around His cock. "I need this and a lot of it!" He took my face between His hands and shook His head. The vibrator's faint, mindless buzzing accentuated the silence between us. Damn Him! I let Him go and pushed His hands away. "Fine, Andre! You can damned well get used to getting yourself off, too!" He put my hand back on His cock and held it there. "No, Catherine, I like things just the way they are. I want you to need me all the time and be ready for me whenever I want you." He jerked the chains in my nipple rings and kissed me with fierce intensity. "I mean it! You'll stay as you are!" His cock twitched in my hand. The smug, self assured SOB! Of all the men in the world, I had to love Him! He always got His way and we both knew it! I returned His kiss and nodded. He removed the chastity from my nipple rings and pulled it free of the ones in my labia. I climbed on top of Him with the tight waist chain still in place. He cupped me with His thumbs through my rings so He could squeeze my breasts and stretch my nipples at the same time and demanded "Agreed?" "OK, you bastard," I conceded. "I'll put up with it but only for a while." I maneuvered Him into me and slid down His cock until He filled me. He used to love it when I rode Him but He wasn't in the mood that day. It took Him a couple of minutes of stretching and contortions to fasten the restraints around my wrists and tie them tightly enough so that all I could do was lie on top of Him with my knees beside His thighs. He used the waist chain to hold me still while He moved in me. Even then, I was so horny I came before He did. He stayed under me for a while after we finished and let our wetness run out around Him to soak His stomach and balls. Even soft, He felt wonderful inside me and it was great to be satisfied for a change. We lay connected in silence until He squirmed out from under me. Andre ignored me when I asked Him to free me to use the bathroom. He picked up the still-buzzing vibrator and dropped it on the pillow next to my head. He left the bathroom door open so I could hear Him urinate. He returned with the shower curtain, shoved it under me, pulled my legs straight out toward the corners of the bed and restrained my ankles so tightly I couldn't move. I turned my face away from the sex toy and spent the night fighting to control my bladder. I lost the battle the next morning. He dialed my office and held the handset for while I told them I was ill, then He stood next to the bed, arms folded, waiting. I could only cry in humiliation when my hot urine splashed against my thighs and pooled under me. He left me there for a few more hours to make His point; He was totally in charge. I was sure that He'd get over His obsession with keeping me chained, aroused and unsatisfied and move on to other sex play. I was only right about the first part. He refused to let me ride Him again. In fact, He stopped making love to me for over a month, withholding himself, at first, to punish me for my impudence but later because He got completely into oral sex while watching me rub myself off. We didn't even really make love when He started having intercourse with me again; He just masturbated inside me. He'd restrain me spread eagle, jerk off until He was almost ready to finish, then he'd fuck me just long enough to come inside me. Once He was satisfied, he'd finger me until I was half out of my mind then free one of my wrists, lie back and enjoy the show. I refused to do it the first time. "OK, Catherine, suit yourself," He said agreeably and retied my wrist. "Let me know when you change your mind." I lay there feeling sorry for myself for a while, then I called Him and surrendered my last shred of self respect. Anything was better than lying there until I wet myself again! I actually enjoyed masturbating for Him once I relaxed and let my horniness overcome my modesty. I brought myself to a wet, noisy, climax, mixing my juices with His, after which He retied my wrist and fucked my mouth. He used a cock ring during oral sex to prolong His pleasure and make it harder for me to get Him off. That was our routine until He decided to explore my need for pain and His to inflict it. We bought our first whip, followed closely by a dozen others which He quickly learned to use with skill and finesse. We completely submerged ourselves in our respective Dominant and submissive roles. As newlyweds, we had enjoyed long sessions of oral sex, then made love until we experienced simultaneous orgasms. Now He restrained and whipped me before He entered me to have His first, fast climax only to withdraw, leaving me desperate for satisfaction. I longed to come while we made love but He wouldn't permit it. Andre got more pleasure from leaving me hanging on the edge than He did from coming himself. He now left me in restraint after His first orgasm, refusing to stimulate me with His mouth or hands, getting high again on my thwarted desire. He'd lie with His body against mine and play with my rings until my arousal kindled His passion again. When He was finally ready to enjoy another climax, He'd free my hands so I could masturbate with one and massage Him with the other until He was ready to finish in my mouth. I always tried to make myself come at the same moment He did. It was more satisfying. It made me feel closer to Him. My life changed completely on the night of our fourth anniversary. He was so attentive and sweet that I knew He had something special planned. He made me wait all evening before letting me in on it. He whipped me more cruelly than ever, then He freed me, laid me on my back on the cool, comforting silk sheet, restrained me with my hands over my head and legs spread wide and brought me to the brink with His tongue. It had been a long time since He'd done that and I came incredibly hard as soon as entered me. He kept on making love to me, slowly, tenderly, withholding His own climax while I enjoyed wave after wave of ecstasy. It was the best sex I'd ever had! I lay back afterward, still in restraint, sipping champagne from a glass which He held to my lips, basking in the afterglow and looking forward to the prospect of more lovemaking. The tight cock ring had done its job. He was still rock hard. "Happy, Baby?" He asked, patting me between my legs. He looked at my wetness on His hand and laughed. "Get enough?" "God, yes! That was so good!" I replied and licked His chest. "That's what I've been needing all this time!" I thought we were back to normal. "That's great. Now its time for our anniversary present." He held two ornate, circular gold locks in front of my face. "We're going to start the next phase of our lives tonight," He said softly and kissed me. "Do you love me enough to submit to me completely?" "I already have," I replied, tugging at the tight restraints for emphasis. "What else do you want me to do to prove it?" He pulled my nipple rings and squeezed and kissed my breasts, rekindling my passion like lightening striking a tinder-dry tree. "Accept these as a symbol of your submission." "In place of the damned chastity belt?" I asked hopefully. "You might say that," He replied. He turned the locks over. They had no keyholes. "I'm going to close you permanently, Catherine." "What are you talking about? That's crazy! How can we make love if you do that?" I demanded fearfully. I tugged futilely against the restraints. Andre ignored my fear, kissed my nipples, put a finger inside me and rubbed the bumpy, swollen place above my urethra which had replaced my clit as my primary erogenous zone since the clit hood piercing. He loosened the ropes on my ankles, retied them with a couple of inches of slack and said "I'll let you move around a bit for an anniversary treat." Andre lay on top of me and sank into me until He pressed hard against my cervix. "Make the most if this, Catherine," He whispered and began to move inside me. "Because you're right. We'll never be able to do this again." I pulled my knees up as far as I could, braced my heels against the bed and moved with Him, meeting His thrusts, matching His rhythm despite my rising panic. He had to be teasing me! In the meantime, I needed this! "You enjoy keeping me hot so much you don't want me to be able to come? Is that what you want?" I had to concentrate on each word to form it. My head was spinning from the mixture of fear and lust. He stroked harder. Drops of His sweat fell on my face. He was close to coming. "Hold still now, Catherine," He whispered hoarsely. I raised my hips, tilted my pelvis and stopped moving. He liked me to remain completely still when He was this close to His orgasm. He enjoyed feeling my vagina clench around him, milking him. He could control His climax better if I didn't move. He smiled down at me, enjoying my trembling struggle to please Him. His body slapped against mine as He rammed himself into me. "I'll train you to come while I whip you," He said "but if you can't learn to, I don't want you to come at all!" He jammed himself tight against me and stopped thrusting. I couldn't stand it! I had to move even though He didn't want me to. I was so afraid that He wouldn't let me finish! I fought the ankle restraints. If I could only free my legs, I could wrap them around Him and hold Him inside me. The ropes mocked me. I clamped down on Him as hard as I could and pumped furiously. I had to show Him how good making love with me could be. Maybe He'd change His mind about closing me if I could make Him come. He teetered on the brink of His orgasm and commanded me to hold still again. I couldn't even if I'd wanted to. "You don't really want to close me, do you?" I pleaded desperately between gasps. "You can't tell me you aren't enjoying this!" He trembled and started to pull back. I tried to hold Him with my knees but He withdrew just as I feared He would! I kept moving under Him, searching desperately for His hardness but it was hopeless. His mind was made up and He was too strong willed to give in. He lay on top of me with His cock just touching my labia and squeezed my breasts. "Don't stop making love to me, Baby," I pleaded. "I need you!" "I need you, too" He replied and kissed me with a delicious mixture of passion and tenderness "and I love you but from now on I only want you to serve me with your hands and mouth. Will you do that for me?" Unsatisfying as my love life was, it was still a lot to give up. A lot, I decided but not too much, because I loved Him. I closed my eyes and nodded. He made me hold the locks while he removed my labial rings. My unsatisfied passion burned like a jagged, white hot meteor in my stomach. I was half out of my mind! He took one lock from my hand, pushed it through the piercings where the top set of rings had been and locked it. The click sounded as loud as a pistol shot. Oh, God! He was actually going through with it! "Please don't leave me this way, Andre!" I screamed in desperation. "You can't be this cruel!" He shook His head. "At least finish making love to me before you put the other lock in," I pleaded. I raised my knees and rotated my pelvis. He ignored me and took the other lock from my hand. "Then let me use my hand! You like to watch me do that!" "No," He said with finality. "The next time you come, if there is a next time, it will be by my whip!" He forced the second lock into my burning, slippery flesh and closed it. The locks pinched me so tightly I wondered if I'd be able to urinate. I looked at His cock through my tears, wanting Him terribly despite the pain of the locks and the impossibility of making love to Him or, perhaps, because of them. "Damn, they look great!" He exclaimed. I raised my head and tried to sit up to see them but I couldn't. I felt them, though! They felt incredibly heavy and thick! He freed my right hand, pressed my fingers tips against them, then He put my hand on His cock and commanded me to jerk Him off while He admired His handiwork. He ordered me to masturbate to orgasm after He splashed His come against my closed passage. I spread His slick come on my aching, swollen labia and around my clit and rubbed myself but I couldn't achieve an orgasm despite my need. "One other thing, Catherine," He said as I trembled on the brink. "Never touch yourself between your legs without permission." It had been over five years since the night we made love for the last time and He closed me with my unsatisfied passion still burning but I could still recreate every sensation of our lovemaking and relive them in my mind. I nodded and concentrated on the memory of His thick cock filling me, stretching me, pressing against my cervix as we strained against one another. The whip smacked against my upper thighs, searing them like a red hot iron. I pushed my ass back toward Him and nodded again. I was only dimly aware of the pain the next time it bit into me. It submerged almost completely in the rising tide of liquid heat bubbling and churning in my lower belly. My body was lubricating heavily now, mindlessly preparing to receive what I needed so terribly but could never have. Wetness trickled down the insides of my thighs. I ground them together and rotated my hips, concentrating on the sensation of the thick, tight circles of gold moving in me. He had dealt me three blows with the last whip He would use tonight. If I failed to come during the remaining seven, He would punish me by leaving me there until morning, painfully stretched, desperate for satisfaction, half out of my mind with desire. His greatest thrill was making me come this way, writhing in pain and ecstasy while He whipped me. He sometimes came Himself just by doing it. I seldom failed to have an orgasm that way now but the prospect of failure was so awful I hated even thinking about it. Memories of endless nights of anguish and frustration between the pillars were terribly vivid. I nodded twice. He crisscrossed my ass with a burning X. I couldn't hold still. My entire body trembled with the strength of my needs. He knew how close I was to coming and would bring me to the very brink, then force me to wait until I thought I couldn't without dying. He walked around in front of me, draped the whip around my neck and let it hang down my back. The lights reflected from His ebony skin, burnished with sweat and oil. His cock stood out defiantly, mocking me with its readiness to enter me if only I had been able to accept Him. He studied my face while I looked at it, enjoying my longing and lust, then He smiled and massaged himself. I turned my face upward, inviting His kiss or slap. I never knew which it would be, nor did it matter since the effect was the same. I moaned and moved my head from side to side, pleading with my eyes for Him to remove the ball gag. My jaw ached from being forced open for so long but my mouth ached even more for His probing tongue to explore it or His cock to fill it. Sucking Him off was a substitute for intercourse for both of us. Having Him come in my mouth intensified my physical need for Him but it partially satisfied my psychological need to have Him inside me. He let go of Himself and unbuckled the leather strap behind my head. Instead of removing it, He pulled it tighter, forcing it into my cheeks, pulling back the corners of my mouth. Saliva seeped around the straps and ran down my chin. He licked my parched, swollen lips with the tip of His tongue then He dropped the straps. They hung from the corners of my mouth like a bridle. I tried to force the ball out of my mouth with my tongue but it remained lodged behind my teeth. Andre massaged my aching shoulders, then ran His hands up and down my sweat-slick ribs from hips to armpits, just grazing the outer edges of my breasts. I moved around, trying to get Him to massage them. The hard caning had left them bruised and swollen. The ache had been joined by tingling warmth. They felt like they were full of champagne bubbles. I desperately needed Him to touch them. "Are your ugly little sacks extra sensitive, Catherine?" He asked. I nodded. He slipped His fingers under them and rubbed my ribs. The light touches on their undersides only made my longing worse. "Do you need them rubbed?" I mumbled "Please!" but He kept His hands on my ribs, letting me burn in vain for the feeling of His mouth and strong hands on my breasts. Other than caning them, He seldom touched them except to pull and twist my rings or swat them with a horsetail whisk, nor did He allow me to fondle myself. He only caressed and enjoyed them through the rings, whips and cane. The constant, deep ache inside them and the stimulation of the rings were a permanent itch which I was forbidden, and He refused, to scratch. He fastened a pair of chains with heavy balls on their ends to my nipple rings, stretched them out to the sides and let them drop so they bounced off one another sending vibrations deep into the centers of breasts to resonate in my womb. I spread my knees and nodded frantically. I'd be able to come more easily if He'd take off my clothes so I could move my legs. He pulled off my jeans and panties. I spread my legs and ground myself against Him, savoring the sensation of His thick, rough chest hair on my breasts and His hardness pressing against my thigh. He penetrated my anus with a finger tip, then a second. I relaxed and He slid His fingers in. I moved on His hand without permission, unable to remain still. I knew He didn't want me to come that way but I nearly managed to before He removed His fingers. He would allow only the fiery caress of His whip to grant me release. I spread my thighs and maneuvered Him between them, trapping Him. He hugged me, crushing my aching, tingling breasts against His hard chest. We moved in slow imitation of intercourse, rubbing my locks against His hardness. I locked my ankles behind His knees and grapevined Him, pressing against His spear of flesh. I forced myself down on Him, trying to tear myself open so He could slide into me. He let me rub myself against Him while He kissed my throat and whispered softly in my ear. "That's it, take my cock, Catherine," He urged. I pushed down so hard He bent a bit. He kissed my ear and reminded me that I was forbidden to have anything inside me. "Besides, you usually manage to come this way and it's much more interesting for Me." I savored the sweet torture of His hardness against me, knowing I'd never be able to make love again no matter how much I needed to. The only things He allowed to stimulate me between my legs were a whisk or crop on those rare occasions when He punished and rewarded me for something special or my own careful, anxious fingers when He allowed me to masturbate for Him. The pressure of His cock was at once incredibly exciting and horribly frustrating! Andre pulled away before I could come from the stimulation of His cock rubbing against me. He attached restraints to my ankles. I shook my head and begged "No, please don't!" against the ball. He ignored me. He pulled my legs so far apart that tendons stood out in the hollows of my inner thighs, then He fastened the chains to rings in the bases of the pillars. I turned my ankles in and pointed my feet down to try to support myself. My toes barely touched the floor. He knotted my hair to an overhead rope and tightened it, pulling my neck straight. He liked to make it as hard as He could for me to move while I fought to come. The additional discomfort and difficulty made my orgasms especially intense, as did the fear of failing to attain one in such an awkward and painful position. He put His palm against my mons just above my clit and massaged the softness above my pubic bone with His finger tips. I tilted my hips and moved on His hand. The stud slid painfully back and forth on my clit. An electric current coursed through my entire body. His cock bobbed a few maddening inches away, its head wet with my secretions. It was tantalizingly near yet impossibly far away, denied to me forever by His metal and will. He massaged my inner thighs, spreading the wetness of my excitement over their softness. I trembled uncontrollably. He tugged on the wet locks, savoring their hardness and my body heat in them with one hand and held His cock with the other. "I wish we could make love tonight, Catherine! You'd be incredibly tight after doing without for so long. I'd love to put this inside you!" I stared at it and tried to rotate my hips. I couldn't catch my breath; I was smothering with desire. "Rub me around my clit!" I begged with my eyes. "Let me finish!" He knew exactly how I needed to be stimulated from watching me do it to myself. "Hold still and don't let yourself come," He warned. "Shake your head to let me know when to stop." He pulled my labia apart above the first lock to expose my clit and rubbed the red, wet skin around it. Bolts of electricity sizzled into my womb and nipples. The area around my clit was extra sensitive now that I couldn't penetrate myself or touch the hard little lump of nerves itself. I stared at His bounding cock, clenched my vaginal muscles and shivered with uncontrollable desire. "You want to finish against my fingers, don't you Catherine?" He teased "but what you really need is this!" He pressed His cock against my labia, dug His fingers into my ass cheeks and pulled me against Him. I struggled to spread my legs wider, instinctively trying to open myself to Him despite the utter futility of it; no matter how far apart my legs were, the locks would never permit me to have Him. They burned as though they were suddenly red hot. I screamed against the gag and moved on Him. "That's it, Catherine, try to take me." I screamed again and struggled harder. My whole world consisted only of His cock and my throbbing need for it. A little contraction started in the tight, muscular ring in my lower vagina and rippled upward into my womb. I was right on the edge! It took all my willpower to shake my head. "Hold back," He demanded and pulled away. "Don't let yourself come!" My orgasm receded to wait like a coiled spring, leaving behind an aching void. He held His hand in front of my face so I could see my wetness on His fingers, then He spread it on my cheeks. Hot tears coursed out again. I screamed in helpless agony and fought the restraints. That was what He'd been waiting for. He stepped back so I could watch Him masturbate, tantalizing me with His own release while denying mine. He smiled at me as He skinned His cock back to expose the bright purple head. Andre squeezed His heavy sack and stroked himself slowly and deliberately, enjoying my agony. "Watch me come," He commanded, as if I could tear my eyes away! Andre pressed a hand against His stomach and pumped His cock until His first thick jet splashed onto my stomach. He pulled me against Him, imprisoning my trembling, straining body in His powerful arms. We ground against each other while His cock twitched, pumping out His sticky passion between our bodies. He crushed me to Him while He came, then backed away to look at the milky smear on the blackness of His skin. He gathered it in His hand, then He massaged it into my blond pubic hair and said very softly "I remember how good it felt to be inside you, Catherine; how it was when we came together." His smile was tinged with sadness. "I really miss making love with you. Sometimes I'm sorry I closed you." He touched my locks again and shook His head. "But that's over. Are you ready to try to have your orgasm?" I moaned in desperation and nodded, pleading for the searing pain which would, hopefully, catapult me to ecstasy. I had to have my climax now or go mad! Andre had a special surprise. He took the weighted chains off my nipple rings and attached the loose gag straps to them, forcing me to stretch my nipples each time I moved my head. He pulled the whip off my shoulders and stood behind me. I fought against the rope in my hair and kept nodding my head, causing the blows to fall in a hail of fire. I clenched my inner muscles as hard as I could and jerked my head back. The straps pulled my nipples just as Andre's sharp teeth used to, sending bolts of pleasure all the way into my womb. A wrenching spasm wracked my body each time the whip bit into me. There was no pain now, only a sudden flash of heat that fanned the consuming flames. "Yes!" I screamed against the gag. "Yes!" Time slowed down. Reality receded like the earth viewed from a rocket ascending into space. I floated out of my body to study my tortured, straining reflection from a comfortable, almost clinically detached distance. My eyes were completely feral, devoid of intelligence or any emotion except lust. I no longer tried to support myself on tiptoes. I hung by my wrists and hair, oblivious to the pain and struggled to spread my stretched legs even wider. I could even see inside my head! My conscious mind had disengaged, relinquishing control to the primitive reptile brain buried deep beneath the more highly evolved structures that usually controlled me. I knew what it wanted. I'd ovulated a few days before and my egg was ready. The reptile brain flooded my body with hormones to make me ready to breed and conceive. The little ball of ancient tissue was wired to ensure survival of my line by making me pass on my genes. It equated orgasm with the act of breeding. After all, millions of years of evolution said that was how it worked! Excitement, sexual tension and the hope of pleasure were a means to an end; to make sure I wanted to, had to breed. It had no way of knowing whether or not sperm were swimming inside me but how else could I have an orgasm except through penile stimulation? An orgasm would be the reptile brain's proof that I had bred successfully. Sinews stood out in my neck, arms and legs, forming little shadowed hollows. I'd need incredibly intense stimulation to overcome my discomfort and have the orgasm it awaited but the reptile brain wasn't concerned about it. I was already as aroused as it could make me. It was happy to have me splayed, helpless to resist a male or to retreat from Him. My immobility and widespread legs would make penetration easier. I studied my reflection, pleased by everything but my small, pendulous breasts. My legs were slender now rather than skinny. My stomach was firm and flat. My hips and ass were pleasantly rounded. Despite my mother's assurances that they'd "come in," my breasts had never really developed. I'd always been embarrassed by the way they looked and the teasing I'd gotten in school (the girls were even crueler than the boys) and the intervening years and abuse had made them look even worse. They drooped more now from being caned and from years of play rough enough to make my nipples wet. Except for my nipples, they hardly even looked like breasts. They were just pouches of skin that lay flat against my ribs, nearly invisible beneath my clothing unless I wore a padded push-up bra. They were prominent now, though, with the straps yanking them up into points. My wrinkled, dark pink nipples were knots of jangling nerves. The reptile brain was pleased by that, too. It approved of anything that would increase my excitement and make me more inclined to breed! Several drops of lubricant oozed out, collected on the locks and fell sparkling to the floor. The reptile brain knew nothing of locks and closing and unsatisfied longing. It lived in a world of chemicals and minute electrical signals which told it the job was nearly done. It congratulated itself. As far as it was concerned, I was ready to take a male deep inside myself and accept His sperm! I drifted back inside my body. Andre waited patiently for me to request the final blow. I met His reflected gaze and nodded. He drew the whip back and sent it soaring slowly toward me. It changed into His cock as it came to me, black, beautiful, fearful in its strength. The whip/cock floated lazily up between my thighs and exploded against the rings in a fearful burst of pain and ecstasy! I would feel the pain of that final cutting blow for days but now it only heightened my pleasure. I pulled as hard as I could against the restraints and pumped my hips, obeying the overpowering orgasmic urge to move in coital rhythm, to milk my male; make Him bathe my egg with His sperm. Another little trickle oozed out, propelled by my contractions. I felt hollow and full at the same time! The clit ring massaged me like a fiery little tongue with each desperate thrust of my hips. A final, fierce paroxysm seized my straining body, squeezed out my breath and pulled my breasts and womb together in a white-hot knot. It felt as though every muscle in my body contracted at the same time! I fought the rope in my hair to pull my head back, stretching my nipples enough to nearly tear out the rings. My vaginal muscles strained to clamp tighter on the cock that should have been filling me. I screamed against the gag and fought the restraints to escape the terrible tension threatening to tear me apart. It dissipated suddenly, leaving me suspended peacefully in space, enveloped in a swirling gray cloud. The bite of the restraints and the fierce sting of physical longing ebbed away. His voice seemed to come from a great distance even though He had His arms around me, lovingly supporting my limp body. "I love you, too!" I replied, forming the words in my mind just before I surrendered to blackness. Somehow, I knew He heard me.
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