Chapter 6: The Punishment Continues
Christine lay trembling beneath him, her wrists bound to the headboard, the blindfold soaked with tears of pleasure against her cheeks. Her chest heaved, the nipple clamps tugging at her swollen peaks with every gasp. The aftershocks of her orgasm still rippled through her cunt, clenching around his cock where he remained buried inside her.
Zack stayed still for a long moment, letting her ride the waves, feeling her inner walls flutter and grip. Then slowly, deliberately, he pulled out. The wet sound of his cock leaving her body made her whimper. She felt the sudden emptiness like a hollow ache between her legs, and her hips lifted instinctively, chasing him.
"No," he whispered. "Not yet. We're not done."
Her breath hitched. "Please, Zack. I'm so close to coming again. Please."
He hushed her with a finger pressed to her lips, then slid off the bed. She heard his footsteps on the carpet, the soft creak of the nightstand drawer opening. Her blindfolded head turned toward the sound, straining to make sense of it.
Something brushed against her ankle. She gasped as he lifted her leg, bending it at the knee, and she felt the cool weight of a wooden pole pressed against the inside of her calf. The spreader bar. He clamped the first leather cuff around her ankle, snug and firm, then the second on her other leg. She felt her thighs being pushed apart, forced wide, her knees lifting off the mattress. The position left her completely open, her pussy exposed and glistening wet, her asshole tightening and loosening in little pulses of anticipation.
"Perfect," he murmured, smoothing a hand up the inside of her thigh. "You're so goddamn pretty like this, baby. Spread wide and waiting."
"I'm always waiting for you," she breathed.
"Tonight you wait for him too."
He moved away again. She heard another drawer open, and then a small, expensive click, like a jewelry box closing. Her heart hammered. "Zack? What is that?"
He didn't answer. The mattress dipped beside her hip, and she felt his presence settle between her spread legs, his weight pressing the bed down. Warm breath ghosted over her wet slit, but he didn't touch her there. Instead, his fingers traced up the crease of her thigh, brushing over the firm mound of her shaved pubis, then lower, spreading her outer lips.
Her clit was swollen, aching, a hard little pearl peeking out from its hood, throbbing with a hunger that had been building for hours. He blew on it softly and she shuddered, her whole body jerking.
"Please," she begged. "Please touch me. I need to come."
"Not yet. I have something for you first."
She felt the faint tickle of something metallic hovering over her skin. A small, cold ring pressed against her clit, and she flinched, trying to pull away, but the spreader bar and the bound ankles held her open and vulnerable. Her hips bucked, but his free hand pressed down on her belly, pinning her.
"Hold still, baby. This is going to make you feel so good."
The clamp opened with a tiny, soft click, and dark anticipation flooded her body. It was a clitoral clamp, something they'd used years ago, but tonight it felt different. Tonight it felt like a promise.
He guided the curved jaws around her engorged clit, the metal cool against her feverish flesh. She felt the gentle pressure of the clamp settling over the swollen nub, and then, with another soft click, it closed.
Sensation exploded through her. Not pain exactly, but a sharp, piercing pressure that radiated from her clit straight up through her belly. Her entire body seized, her spine arching off the bed, and she screamed, a raw, guttural sound torn from the depths of her chest. Her cunt pulsed violently, slick fluid gushing from her slit as the clamp squeezed down, holding the sensitive pearl in a vice that was both agonizing and exquisite.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god," she sobbed, her hips grinding against nothing, trying to find relief, finding only more friction against the clamp. Every tiny movement sent another jolt of that sharp ache through her. "Fuck, Zack, that's so much. It's so much."
"I know." His voice was low, approving. "But you can take it. You were made for this, Christine. Your body was built to handle everything."
She was still trembling when she felt something cold and slick press against her asshole. Her breath caught. He circled the tight ring of muscle with a finger, coating her with lube, and then the wide head of the glass plug pushed against her entrance.
"Breathe for me, baby," he murmured. "Take it slow."
He eased the plug inside her, inch by thick inch, the cold glass sliding past her sphincter and filling her deep. She felt the stretch, the pressure spreading her open from the inside, the weight of it resting heavy in her bowels. Her ass clenched around the shaft, and she moaned, the sensation mixing with the throb of the clamp on her clit to overload every nerve ending in her pelvis.
"There," he said, pressing the plug fully home with a satisfying pop of her muscles. "Now you're full of me in one hole, and filling my place in the other."
He shifted, positioning himself between her spread legs again. The head of his cock pressed against her slick, drenched cunt, and she was so sensitive that the mere contact made her cry out. The clamp pulsed against her clit as his skin brushed it, a sharp flash of painful pleasure.
"Look at you," he breathed. "Clamp on your clit, plug in your ass. You're a goddamn masterpiece."
Then he pushed inside her.
Her cunt was already so wet that he slid in to the hilt in one smooth thrust, and the dual sensation was staggering. The thick glass plug filling her ass, his cock stretching her cunt, the space between them so thin that she could feel his shaft pressing against the plug through her walls. She felt impossibly full, stuffed to bursting, and her thighs trembled around the spreader bar.
Zack began to fuck her slow and deep, each stroke pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in, grinding against the plug inside her. With every thrust, the clamp bounced against his pubic bone, sending jolts of sharp, desperate pleasure through her clit. She was drowning in sensation, tears streaming down her face under the blindfold.
"Oh god, oh god, that's so deep," she gasped. "You're touching everything. I feel you everywhere."
"That's the idea," he grunted, driving deeper. "But Thursday, baby. Thursday there's going to be another cock inside you. Joaquin's cock. He's going to fill this tight ass while I fill your cunt, or maybe the other way around."
She sobbed, her hips meeting his thrusts, her body rocking between the two sensations. "Yes. Yes, god, I want it. I want his cock so bad. I want both of you inside me at the same time."
"You'll have it." He picked up the pace, harder now, the slap of his hips against her thighs echoing in the candlelit room. "You're going to be the perfect little whore for us, aren't you?"
"Yes," she screamed. "Yes, I'm your whore. I'm his whore. Fuck me, Zack, please, I'm so close."
He drove into her with everything he had, and the orgasm crashed over her like a wave. It started in her clit, the clamp amplifying every pulse until the pressure built past the point of bearing, and then it exploded, flooding through her whole body. Her cunt clenched around his cock so hard he had to fight to keep moving, and she screamed Joaquin's name again, her hips bucking wildly against the spreader bar.
Zack kept fucking her through it, slow and grinding, until her body finally went limp beneath him. Then he leaned over her, his lips brushing her ear, his voice a warm whisper against her skin.
"This is only a taste of what Thursday will bring."
She shuddered, the clamp still throbbing on her oversensitive clit, the plug heavy and hot in her ass, his cock still buried inside her. And she knew, with a certainty that ached through her entire body, that she wanted every single second of it.