Ladies Prefer Champagne Alpha Male Romance Mega Bundle (43 page)

 

“This… I have no idea…” I mumbled as I turned it over in my hands. I had to put myself in Chad’s frame of mind—what would he want to do to me? How would he want to see me tortured and pleasured? What kind of sick things would he have done to me?

 

And then I realized exactly what it was.

 

“It’s, uh, a device to spread my cunt—isn’t it, Sir?” I asked, still turning it over. “These clamps go on my pussy and you can tighten the straps to pull me open… And then it just kind of sits there. Suspended by the clamps and the straps on my pussy. Right?”

 

Chad grinned. “That’s exactly right, my dear… Well done. Now, lie back.”

 

I took a deep breath and obeyed as he plucked the spreader out of my hands. This was going to be a wild ride.

 

~

 

I laid back, spreading my legs wide. God, the thought of that monstrous thing, looking more like some sort of hideous inverted spider or a spider’s web rather than a sexy toy—the thought of him, my Chad, my master, latching it onto my sensitive, swollen lips… It was terrifying.

 

“Now, I hope you’re ready for this…” Chad cooed softly. He clipped open one of the clamps and ran the teeth of the clamp along my lips. I grimaced, shuddering in pleasure and pain.

 

“Oh, master, it’s so good…” I managed to moan.

 

“Well, we’ll have to fix that,” he said with a grin, letting the clamp clip onto my pussy. I threw my head back and shrieked in agony as the teeth dug into my sensitive flesh.

 

“Oh, Sir!” I squealed. It was the most exquisite pleasure and pain I had experienced yet—and after everything he had just put me through, that was most definitely saying something.

 

Chad raised an eyebrow.

 

“I think you’re a little… Too free right now. One moment.”

 

And he stood. He glowered at me suddenly.

 

“Don’t touch anything. Don’t move a muscle.”

 

I nodded obediently, my eyes once again full of tears. I felt like I was getting better at controlling them, however—felt like I was somehow now able to keep my body from convulsing in agony, keep my face from collapsing into a shower of pain and tears… Or at least, I hoped I was getting better.

 

The moments after his departure were agonizing. My pussy was leaking like a broken faucet, all over his nice couch. It throbbed and pulsed in agony and it was everything I could do to resist the urge to touch myself, to rub my clit and at least try to get some release from this exquisite torture… But no, I resisted.

 

I was a good girl. Yes, Sir, aren’t I a good girl?

 

He returned with two more toys. One was a brink pink sphere with holes in it, vaguely like a whiffle ball—you know, those little plastic pseudo-baseballs you hit off a stand when you’re a kid? The pink whiffle ball was attached to a thick, serious looking leather strap. The other item was more unambiguous: leather shackles.

 

“So, I think you can guess, my sweet little Kenya…” he said affectionately but not without a hint of malice and danger. “What this is…”

 

He grabbed me hard by the hair and forced me forward. I yelped but offered no resistance. I was learning to submit—oh, yes, I was. He grabbed my right wrist and latched it into the shackle. Then, he linked it to my other wrist, and like that, my arms were immobilized, my wrists forced behind my back. I couldn’t tell if there was a way for me to get out… If there was a fail safe mechanism, I couldn’t find it as my hands glided around my bonds, learning their curves and their cruel leather strictures.

 

“But this one might be a little more mysterious to you. This is called a ball gag. And it’s used to shut up stupid whores like you.”

 

My eyes widened. He grinned, pleased by my horror.

 

“Now, open up, sweetheart.”

 

I hesitated. The thought, somehow, of having that thing in my mouth, it terrified me. I didn’t know why, after all—he had already made me choke on his cock and I was about to allow him to torture and destroy my most sensitive area. But there was something primal, something terrifying and unnatural about being forced into silence, about having that children’s toy turned sex object forced into my mouth… Something unnatural and horrifying about the way I’d drool over it and moan through it unable to articulate words and phrases—just sounds.

 

Like an animal. That’s what it was designed to do—to reduce me to an animal.

 

He raised his hand. It crashed into my face, and hard, striking the welt from before. I yelped, my hips bucking involuntarily, my cunt lips rubbing into the clamp. It hurt bad and I loved it.

 

“Yes, master,” I said quickly, opening my mouth as wide as I could. Chad grinned.

 

“That’s a good whore.”

 

He fit the ball into my mouth, wrapped the leather restraints around my head, and buckled them in the back. I gagged and gasped on the thing. I tried to say something but the ball completely immobilized my tongue. I could only moan and groan and gasp into it.

 

“It doesn’t shut you up entirely, of course…” Chad said, raising an eye brow. “But I don’t necessarily want that. And besides, the only way to shut you up for real would be duct tape and I’m out of that. My last girl needed a lot of duct tape.”

 

His last girl? What the fuck?

 

Of course. He used girls like me like disposable playthings. I couldn’t forget that. I couldn’t forget what this relationship was. We weren’t equals. He wasn’t my boyfriend. He was my master. My sugar daddy, perhaps. But who was I to say he couldn’t have more than one girl? I couldn’t forget what this was.

 

I couldn’t fall in love with him. I couldn’t fall in love with those smoky eyes, that cruel grin, those playful lips, those powerful, teasing finger tips…

 

I just couldn’t.

 

“Now, where were we? Ah. Yes. Disciplining your cunt.”

 

~

 

Now, he attached the second clamp to the opposite side of my pussy. I threw my head back and shrieked. My shriek was transformed into a disgusting, guttural moan in the ball gag. Chad just cackled viciously.

 

“That’s it. Let it all out. Let me know if it hurts, Kenya. Let me know how bad it hurts.”

 

Tears were running down out of my eyes, ruining whatever remained of my mascara. I was a mess and I loved it.

 

He applied the third clip and the fourth. I had thought maybe these wouldn’t feel so bad, since I was already used to them… But I had thought wrong. Each one was like a million little knives cutting into my hot, needy flesh giving me that agonizing, lacerating pleasure that I so desired, that I so demanded.

 

“Almost there…” Chad whispered, his face suddenly softening ever so slightly. “You’re doing great, sweet heart. Just great. You’re my little slave princess.”

 

I looked up at him with shining eyes. I took a deep breath and nodded, not even trying to form the words of a thank you.

 

He applied the fifth and the sixth. Knowing how proud he was, knowing how much I was pleasing him, how I was performing for him and doing exactly what he wanted—it gave me a great sense of pride, a profound desire to keep going, to keep debasing myself for him, for my master, for Chad. I wanted this. I wanted to submit to him.

 

I wanted to be his.

 

“Now, the fun part,” Chad said with a wicked grin. He began to pull on the little pussy straps, clamping them into place. I watched in agonized, pained amazement as my cunt spread open, the claws digging into my flesh and all but tearing my swollen lips open. I didn’t even realize that I was moaning, emitting a low, impassioned moan of pleasure and pain.

 

And then, there I was: my pussy lips splayed open wide, my hole completely bared to Chad, ready to accept whatever he wanted to do to me—no matter what it was.

 

“What a beautiful sight…” he whispered, sliding a finger along my stretched out cunt lips, pressing his fingers inside. I whimpered, struggling involuntarily against my restraints. He pressed two, then three fingers inside of me and my hole almost involuntarily contracted around them, holding them tight before releasing

 

“Perfect.”

 

Now, he took up the huge dildo. My eyes widened. I had all but forgotten that there would be more parts of my torture yet to come…

 

He pressed the thick, bulbous tip to the entrance of my cunt. I whimpered, feeling how huge it was, the weight pushing against my abused, pained pussy hole.

 

“Please, Master…” I tried to moan through my gag but it just came out like a disgusting, guttural animal groan. Chad laughed.

 

“What was that? Try to enunciate, Kenya.”

 

I tried again, knowing damned well that it wouldn’t work and he wouldn’t understand anything I was saying—that no one could possibly understand what I was moaning.

 

“Fuck me… Fuck me, Sir… Please, Sir…” I moaned, throwing my head back in agony. “Please, Sir, put it in me…”

 

“I think I heard ‘Fuck me’? Was that ‘Fuck me, Sir’?” Chad said, teasingly, gliding the head of the huge black dildo over my wet lips. I was getting dizzy from the pleasure and the pain and the sight of his well-muscled chest, almost like a body builder’s but more compact—maybe more like an Olympic swimmer’s—glistening with sweat in front of me.

 

I nodded, my eyes teary and begging.

 

“Then so be it,” Chad declared. He placed his palm on the base of the dildo and gave a single, hard push.

 

I screamed into my gag as I felt the huge cock invade my tight hole. I felt like he was gutting me. And it was incredible. It impaled me with a single stroke and I found myself squeezing my eyes shut, shuddering and groaning and crying as he fucked it in and out of me, the huge cock stretching my tight cunt wide, driving me wild. My hips bucked and with each movement, my pussy spasmed and the spreader cut deeper into my flesh, making me cry, making me scream and beg for it harder.

 

I wanted to see how much I could take. I wanted Chad to push me.

 

I wanted him to push me to my breaking point… And beyond.

 

“Harder!” I tried to moan into the gag but of course, it game out gargled and incomprehensible.

 

Fortunately for me, Chad was on the same page. He tilted his head down, a grim smile on his face as he pistoned the cock in and out of my spread, bonded and tortured pussy. Each stroke of the cock filled me up, taking me deeper than I had ever been fucked before… Not that I had much experience, of course. But this was insane. I had no idea how I was even still conscious as the huge, thick cock drove itself deeper and deeper into my tight canal, spreading me wide, lewdly.

 

“And now, let’s add the final ingredient,” Chad whispered, lodging the dildo deep inside of me, my tight muscles keeping it in place. I nodded tearfully, knowing what was coming next. I shifted uncomfortably in my bonds, involuntarily straining against them. Of course, I knew it was to no avail. Of course, I knew there was no point in struggling, that I was bound and bonded and would be until Chad decided to set me free…

 

I was his slave, his possession, his toy, and that was how I wanted it.

 

He picked up the termite and pressed it against my clit. I was gasping for breath now, panting manically. I couldn’t even fathom what was coming next. I was terrified but still, I wanted to know what it would feel like. I wanted to experience everything he had to offer me. I wanted to experience, at the same time, everything I could offer him.

 

“Are you ready?” he whispered, his eyes twinkling. I realized he was asking me. I realized he wanted me to pull the trigger. He wanted me to take responsibility for my pleasure, for submitting to him, for pleasing him and showing him what a good slave I could be. And he also wanted my consent.

 

It was one thing to dominate and take what you want. Any thug can do that, of course. It’s another thing entirely to dominate on the level of the soul, to force your prey to want its destruction. And that’s what Chad had done. He was the spider and I was the fly, caught inextricably in his sticky, deadly web.

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