Pain and Pleasure

You press a button on the back wall and a hidden door opens. The Toy Room, you think, the name popping into your head the moment you think of it.

The room is not large, but the walls are lined with shelves and hooks from floor to ceiling, and these are filled with tools of pain and pleasure: Whips and canes and paddles hang on one wall. Clamps and suction devices share a wall with needles, electrodes, and many kinds of rope. There’s an entire wall of vibrators, buttplugs and gags.

One wall is bare, but not empty. Shiny steel hooks and anchors protrude from the wall, as well as the ceiling and floor near it. There’s a wooden pony in one corner, a metal cage in the other. The frame of a seatless metal chair rests in the center. All things Aalia will experience over the next five days.

You grab a duffel bag off of a shelf without even looking. Somehow, you knew exactly where it would be. You fill the bag with two glass suction-tubes, a small steel buttplug, and a Hitachi magic wand. After a few moments of thought, you add a red shop rag, a roll of tape, and a bottle of lube.

Returning through the hidden door, you are treated to the lovely view of Aalia’s sweat-glistened backside. Her thighs are still spasming from her last orgasm and her back rises and falls with her labored breaths.

You set the duffel bag down near her feet before reaching into it and pulling out the shop rag and roll of tape. You walk around her toward her face, trailing the fingertips of one hand from the small of her back to her neck. You cup her chin in your palm and turn her youthful face up to meet yours. Her eyes are glossy and exhausted, almost absent.

Starting with a corner of the cloth, you push the coarse material past her pink lips and into one cheek. She grunts in discomfort as you fill her mouth, her eyes regaining focus, but she doesn't actually resist. By the time you finish filling her mouth and second cheek, her jaw is stretched wide open, lips unable to encompass the entirety of the large rag.

You wrap loops of tape around her head to secure the gag. Soon, everything below her nose disappears beneath the tape. Her eyes are wide again, present and more than a little scared. Her nostrils whistle as she struggles to slow her rapid breath. You wonder what she's more afraid of, that you've made it a little harder for her to breathe, or that she can no longer talk? Perhaps you'll ask her later.

Black hair has fallen into her eyes, sticking to her sweaty forehead and cheeks. You gently brush it back before returning to the duffel bag. You grab the lube and buttplug, pouring an excessive stream into the crack of her ass. You watch it run down the folds of her pussy to mix with her own natural lubricant running down her thighs.

You rub your thumb in circles along the tense picker of her anus, delighting in Aalia’s squirms and whimpers. The buttplug isn't particularly large, but judging by Aalia's reaction, anal play is either new to her, or not enjoyable. More lube coats the buttplug. You spin it between your palms to warm it up, then gently press the narrow tip against her anus.

She flinches, recognizing the intrusion for what it is. Slowly, you twist and press and massage the buttplug deeper, one small measure at a time. Her whimpers become a low grunt as the buttplug slips completely inside. She wiggles her bottom as much as her bondage will allow, trying to expel the intruding object. She fails, of course.

Next, you tape the Hitachi to one of Aalia’s inner thighs, positioning the head of the vibrator firmly against her clit. The power cord hangs down to the floor near a conveniently positioned port. You plug it in, and, with a click, fire it up. Alia jerks in surprise, then groans from the powerful vibrations.

In seconds, she’s shaking and moaning loudly into the rag like a woman in labor. The intensity of her reaction climbs until she’s screaming in panicked desperation.

You’ve overloaded her body with pleasure and arousal, but given her no way to release it without your permission. She’s simply held at the frustrating peak of pleasure, so high and intense with the compounding effect of your rules. You wonder how long she can take it before going insane.

“Do you want something?” you mock. Her hopeful eyes find yours immediately “Would you like to cum?”

Aalia nods her head violently, the cords of her neck taut, her face red, the muscles of her body contracting and cramping painfully.

“You can’t,” you say, positioning one of the suction tubes around her hard brown nipple. You twist the end and it pulls her nipple deep into the glass. You continue twisting until her flesh is purple and distended by at least an inch, she grimaces slightly. The pain is barely even a distraction right now. “Only good girls get to cum.”

She’s wailing and jerking hard against her bondage. Tears flow out of her tightly closed eyes. You apply the second suction tube.

You watch her for several minutes before squatting down to bring your face to hers. You stroke her head and hold her face to your chest, your lips close to her ear. “Cum,” you say.

She does. But she does not seem to enjoy it. Her climax is long and intense, and seems more painful than pleasurable. You can see that she’s having trouble breathing so you rip the tape away. “Please,” she says through gritted teeth. “I can’t take it anymore.”