Eighth

Except that it doesn’t. I’m not leaning on the poles anymore, yet the clonking banging in my ass continues. I’m so confused and impeded by the sensation that it takes a full minute to figure out how this is possible. When I stepped away, the electrodes came off their place in the pole, and some sort of glue made sure they pasted to the skin of both my buttocks. I can no longer escape the pulse, it just follows me when I step away from the pole now.

The incremental increase of the volume ceases, though; the shocks stay just short of the pain threshold. The banging that is delivered to my ass remains tolerable; and when it does, there is no denying that is it is working, that my arousal levels keep increasing as the pulse deliberately grabs my ass in a tight grip.

Suddenly, the entire pulse is gone. It feels as if a big silence falls, and I finally have room to breathe normally again. But he doesn’t give me the opportunity to recover more than a few seconds. In another flash instant, it is back again, delivering sharp blows to my buttocks. There’s only seconds of that as well; then the pulse is gone again. I know that the man behind the mirror is watching my every move and that he enjoys himself, playing around with the controls to the waves into my ass. The way he controls my sensations is deeply humiliating, of course. My response is even worse, though. Riding up and down those waves has a profound effect on me, it captivates my lust into his control. And lust it is. Sure, there’s still fury, and shame, and rebellion. But they don’t really matter. They all simply merge into a great symphony of desire, into an unmistakable thrill of being grabbed and **** into an inevitable deluge of pure thrills. And I can’t even turn them off; the nodes stick to my ass now and can’t be silenced by stepping away anymore.

It opens new possibilities, of course. Now that the pulse follows me, and keeps holding me down in deep arousal, I can move about the room, and I can descend on a different toy. I can hardly wait, and straddle the nearest hitachi, adding the quivering in my clit to the thudding in my ass. It works like a charm. I barely have to press the half-sphere to my clit for ten seconds before the orgasm overwhelms me. The sheer presence of the thumping in my ass turns the intensity of the orgasm up a notch or two. I moan and convulse as the merciless thumping just keeps driving me deeper into lust. I try to form a word in my inarticulate trip across the waves of ecstasy: “Eight, eight, eight…eight… eight…”