“Your punishment is almost over, little girl. You will come for me three more times. Each one will be harder than the last. I want them to be so hard that your tight little bottom squeezes my cock. I want to feel every last one. Do you understand?” he ordered, and I whimpered. I did understand. I understood very well.
It was going to hurt. I could already feel myself fighting back tears. My body was awash in sensation, so overstimulated that even the brush of a finger felt painful. Every last orgasm he was going to wrench from my exhausted body was going to be brutal, but I was going to do it because he expected it of me.
These last three orgasms were going to make me cry.
“Are you ready to come for me?” he asked. He had stilled, his cock deep in my bottom, his fingers resting against my clit.
I drew in a breath and nodded.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.
His fingers started pinching my clit gently first, coaxing my pleasure back to the surface despite the fact that my next few orgasms weren’t for pleasure but for punishment. I licked my lips and gently rocked my hips. He ground his pelvis into mine, slapping his flesh against the marks from the strap, and I cried out at the reminder of it.
The first orgasm slammed over me like a sudden storm. I hadn’t been prepared for it and it ravaged me senseless. Every inch of my body trembled and shook from it. My core collapsed in on itself and my clit grew incredibly sensitive as my release tore its way through me. I moaned with pleasure while Vane wound his hand around my throat, holding me firmly against him while he fucked me harder.
His rough use of my bottom hole hurt but I knew it was supposed to.
This was a punishment and he was going to use me as hard and as roughly as he pleased. When my first orgasm eventually ebbed away, he teased my clit more fervently and I found myself trying to break away. I couldn’t though.
I was going to come for him two more times and I didn’t have the slightest choice about it.
“Please,” I begged.
“Come hard for me,” he answered.
I was going to receive no mercy from him.
He fucked my bottom hard and I could feel the fiery pull of my next orgasm pulling me into its blazing heat. I tried to fight it. I tried to hold it back but the cruel edge of pleasure bit through me once again. I broke into a billion pieces as the painful sharpness of bliss tore me apart from within.
“No more,” I pleaded. My voice sounded ragged.
“You have one more orgasm before your punishment is over. I know it hurts, little girl, but it’s almost over. This last orgasm will remind you that you’re mine and that when you defy me, I will always be here to put you back in your place,” he said firmly.
I began to cry. One tear after another fell from my eyes as my desperate plea. Until now, I had never thought orgasms could be considered a punishment. I was so very wrong.
Every single part of me hurt.
His fingers teased my clit once more and even as I lay against him weeping as I came for him, I could feel the pleasure he demanded rising once more.
My hips rocked of their own accord. I moaned as my nipples hardened into painful little pebbles. My clit throbbed with even more pleasure even after I’d come so many times already. I squeezed my eyes shut as his cock used my tight little ass harder than he ever had before and I could feel that last orgasm building just beyond my reach.
I feared it. I wanted it. I hated it. I adored it.
“Please. Don’t,” I begged.
He didn’t listen.
My arousal built within me. It became more terrifyingly complete.
I knew it wouldn’t be long now.
“Come for me,” he demanded, and he pinched my clit hard.
I came. I sobbed. I lost all semblance of rational thought as my world became white hot with pleasure. It hurt. It was bliss.
Agony. Desire. Pain.
I didn’t know one from the next as I came for him. I was only vaguely aware of the tears dripping down my cheeks or my own wetness drenching my thighs. None of that mattered though.