Wheel of Pain

She smiled. With an august gesture, a giant screen appeared on a wall with a wheel depicting various practices, mainly BDSM, degrading, and humiliating.

• I love technology. It will stop on its own when it has set a threshold for the AI ​​to accept. Press the button on the table.

I approached the table as the audience listened. Trembling, I pressed the button, aware that I was about to experience a moment that might push me to my limits.

The wheel began to spin for what seemed like an eternity and finally pointed to a scale.

The audience announced

• the scale, the scale.

Mistress told me

Kneel down, spread your arms, palms facing the sky. I immediately obeyed. Her servant placed a magic wand between my thighs on my clitoris, placed two trays with champagne glasses on them, while her mistress took a heavy whip and began to whip me. The screen counted down to 10 minutes; I would never be able to last ten long minutes.

I felt my desire rising from the vibrations on my clitoris, as I tried to concentrate so as not to upset the balance of the two trays, which were precarious after each stroke of the whip that pushed me forward. Sometimes she pushed me with the sole of her shoe and her stiletto heel against my back.

Her submissive took my chin in her right hand and kissed me in such a fabulous way that I lost my concentration. I had an orgasm that made me lose my balance on one of the trays.

She ended her kiss, smiling and satisfied, spat in my face, and whispered venomously,

• Idiot.