Illegal

The orgasm enveloped her like none ever had. It was barely comparable to the majority of her previous experiences, the late night rubs in her bed at home: rubbing her clit for a while, accompanied by her favorite fantasies, all vanilla and nice, until the warm glow in her belly welled up into a trickle of well-being and gratification, before subsiding quickly again, like a passing gust of wind.

This orgasm resembled a storm that rocked the blinds of the comfy home she had built over the years, and menaced the safety it had provided for her to the core. She panicked when she submerged in it, when she fought and lost the battle for control over her own body. She felt like she would suffocate, as if this gale of lust, anger, fear, pleasure, shame, would disallow her breathing and her heartbeat to remain operative. She had no control over the spasmodic jolting of her loins, only barely held in place by the bar extending deep into her slit, nor of the long weeps, crying to heaven in an incomprehensible mix of terror and pleasure. Indeed she didn’t even realize these responses, as the long wrenches of ecstasy seemed to break down the bedrock of her entire nervous system.

She had no idea how long it took before she finally regained some sort of composure. The room hadn’t changed. The tiger girl was still curled up on her cushion, and Caesar was still standing in front of her, holding the remote control of the bar in his hand. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, as he watched her as an interesting subject of scientific study, rather than an object of lust.

”He has seen me like… that!”, it raced through Hannah’s head. He knows that I’m no different… just another girl to be tamed, and trained, and cast into the mold of a performance girl… the shame of it! Nothing but a toy you could simply switch on and off with a button in her pussy, for the men to play with when they liked, or discarded when they got bored with it!

And worst of all, she could see the outlook… no matter how violent and humiliating her… Kemiri… had been, she felt the immense power of it. She could easily see how she would desire it, like he had told her. How she could be turned into just that… a happy and desirous pet, controlled by her own lust, her own addiction to be rocked by this storm he had just shown her. It was… disgusting. It was… enchanting.

“Afterplay” had always meant to her: turning on her side in the bed, cuddling up under the blankets, and fall asleep in the warm glow of the receding gratification. But apparently, Caesar didn’t completely agree with that scenario. He hadn’t touched the remote after he had led her through her ravishing ecstasy, leaving the buzz at the level that had invoked her to cum for him, and she became distinctly aware of it when she gradually came down from her high. It prevented her from falling very deep, like a safety net it caught her excitement, making sure it didn’t drop very far; and once it had caught her, he twisted a knob on the remote, and the net just grabbed her and started lifting her up again. It was almost as if she was an external observer, watching her own responses. This observer noticed with a bit of surprise: Yes, this can be done. Yes, there is no need for withering and decay. Yes, I can bloom again and simply rise back to that same place… She noticed her own breathing going faster and deeper and the blood being pumped to all the right places. She heard a slight moan escape her lips, then a second, and a third, each one faster and louder. She noticed the broad smile on Ceasar’s lips, as he was getting all the responses exactly like he expected them to come. She detested that arrogant smile. Who was he, anyway? Whatever had given him the power to control her deepest desires in this way?

But she had no way to defy him, to wipe that stupid smile off his face, to tell him to fuck off with all his devious schemes… she could only float there, upward, driven by nothing but his aficionado fingers on a stupid electronic device in his hand… new juice welled in her pussy, and viscosity could only keep it inside for half a minute; then long, sticky drops started running down along the insides of her thighs.

The heat of passion just took hold again of her loins, her heart, her throat. She was unable to resist it; her body just told her brain that this was what it needed, and it overrode all arguments of reason, shame, and pride.

Yet this wasn’t enough for Ceasar. He turned the knob all the way down, and the buzzing stopped. A yelp from Hannah’s mouth almost sounded disappointed; but it didn’t last very long. He pressed a different button, and the rod itself came to life. It retracted from her pussy slowly, allowing her to feel the sensation of how stuffed she had actually been. She sighed in a strange mixture of relief and despondency.

But it was premature. Before the bar had entirely left her slit, it turned, and started pushing back in again. The space which had just been vacated was simply reclaimed again, as the shaft kept pushing with a mechanical, unfeeling **** into her, filling her up with its compelling size. When she thought she was going to explode and there was absolutely no room inside her to take any more, it still kept pushing for another inch. Then it held still, allowing her to appreciate the full pressure and unyielding determination to occupy every corner of her slit. She panted quickly and squeezed her eyes tight as her body tried to accommodate the alien presence deep inside her.

Before she succeeded doing that, the bar withdrew again, a bit faster now, offering her the slightest bit of respite as its compelling presence was removed, but when it had almost completely exited her, it turned again, for another full-power thrust into her cavities. She squealed as the full power stuffed her up completely again, but it didn’t take any pause before pulling back again this time, yet faster again. When it almost came out it turned again, going faster and faster, gradually turning into an encompassing series of long, hard thrusts.

“I’m not a slit girl! Really, I’m not!”, a voice shouted in her head. Even then and there, she realized her moral plunge. She had always felt like clit pleasure was somehow more sophisticated, more dignified, more justifiable somehow. Slits and penetrations were vulgar, crass, a man’s thing. As if there was highbrow sex and lowbrow sex, somehow.

But if that was true, it turned out right now that she was just another vulgar girl. The unrelenting fuck flooded her pussy and drove her back into ecstacy without any effort at all. Her body betrayed her yet again. In an almost animalistic way, it adjusted to the ruthless invasion, yielding to it, accommodating it. Her hips started involuntarily bumping back to the rhythm of the shaft as a red cloud descended on her brain, telling her to stop resisting, go with the flow. She felt her resistance fade to the pleasure of submission to the mesmerizing ride. It only took a minute before she was back on the edge, ready to cum for him at his command.

But it didn’t come. He stabilized the machine fuck to a breathtaking speed, then lay the remote aside and lit up a cigarette, watching her squirm at the mercy of the relentless machine fucking her top speed with apparent satisfaction, every time she opened her eyes for a fraction of a second.

It was much harder to hold on to the edge than it had been the previous time; the power of the fuck just kept pushing her harder and harder to fall off the edge. But she wasn’t allowed! He had explicitly forbidden her… cum on his word alone. She had no other option… she just had to go there. She needed to. If only he could have mercy on a poor, over-excited girl…

The words left her mouth without a conscious command from her brain: “Please… Sir… can I… cum…?”

His smile turned even broader, and he replied to her in that strange language: “Nada!”

There could be no doubt about the meaning. She was supposed to just take this merciless pounding of her pussy without the escape of release. Get worked up, harder and harder, higher and higher, confined in the crammed little space of her lust and obedience.

She couldn’t. The power of the shaft just laughed her in the face, and plunged her off into the cascade of orgasm. It was even more powerful than the previous one, as the mad rush of the shaft kept pounding her throughout. She wept and jolted and screamed as it exploded in a lightning bolt of hot fire in her belly.

It took a while for her to recover. She only vaguely noticed that the rod had ceased thrusting, and removed from her pussy. She fell over to the floor, panting and heaving with closed eyes, completely off the world.

When she finally managed to open them again, Caesar’s face was only inches away from her. She hadn’t thought that his smile could have gone any broader than it already was when he watched her ride, but apparently it was possible.

His voice was soft when he spoke, but it didn’t disguise his ominous words: “Now that, my dear, was an illegal orgasm. “