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Laurel was particularly proud of the manner in which she had trussed Jessalyn up to the bed. The redhead was on her knees, leaning forward at not quite a forty-five degree angle. Her calves were bent back behind her, each ankle encased in leather cuffs and secured to its respective bedpost with a thin chain. Her arms were pulled back behind her in a leather binder, which was secured to the crossbeam above and behind her. Her hair, conversely, was secured to the lower crossbeam, this having the delicious effect of tilting her head back while pushing her breasts forward, held as they were by the cupless corset she was still wearing. A thick leather belt around her waist, secured to the bedposts from d-rings on either side, provided lateral support. Finally, a trainer gag wrapped around her face and head. Thin rivulets of drool were already dripping from around the red vinyl ball that was pushed deep into her mouth.

The pressure on Jessalyn’s shoulders and hair was certainly uncomfortable, if not exactly painful yet. Still, the discomfort added to her growing desire. But mostly the utter hopelessness of escaping from her bonds triggered her excitement. There was absolutely nothing, she realized, that she could do. If Laurel chose to leave her there, there she would stay. She could hardly even struggle; doing so just pulled her hair that much harder, although she did from time to time, enjoying the pain this brought her.

“You look,” Laurel said, “absolutely delicious.” She grabbed her cellphone and took several pictures of the trussed-up redhead from various angles. Then she sat on the bed in front of Jessalyn and took one of the younger girl’s large nipples into her mouth, running her tongue over it, nibbling at it with her teeth, feeling it grow harder. Jessalyn moaned through her gag. But tender sucking was not what she wanted, and both women knew it.

With the nipple about as erect as Laurel thought it could get, she let it fall from her mouth and placed a heavy clover clamp on it. Pain shot through Jessalyn’s chest, and she made a high-pitched gurgling noise in her throat. Laurel repeated the whole process on the other nipple, and, when both sides were secured, gave the chain a sharp tug to make sure the clamps were tight enough. Finally she placed a pillow just below Jessalyn’s exposed pussy.

“Slave!” she called. Jared, waiting just outside in the hallyway, entered instantly. Jessalyn could barely see the bed below her, with her head being pulled back, but rolling her eyes down as far as she could allowed her watch Laurel place leather straps around his prone body, starting at his ankles and working up, although Jessalyn lost sight of him somewhere around his belly button. She could feel his breath, though, between her legs, and knew his head was down there somewhere.

Indeed it was, just an inch or so below her pussy. Jared looked up at the girl’s quivering labia, visibly slick with moisture, his cock growing ever harder in anticipation of her taste. Satisfied with his bonds, Laurel climbed off the bed and retrieved a small pillow from the window seat, shoving it underneath the pillow on which his head already rested and pushing his face further up, his nose now pressing into the folds of her cunt, close enough now that his tongue with only minimal effort could press hard up against Jessalyn’s clit—which is exactly what he was commanded to do just seconds later.

Jessalyn, drool dripping down her chin, couldn’t believe the sensations she was experiencing at the touch of his tongue. Mark had never shown much interest in going down on her; she could recall maybe a half dozen times in their almost three years together, and never with any skillfulness. The slave’s tongue pushed and flicked and ground up into this little button of pleasure she had so long ignored. Just when the sensations were almost too much, and she found herself wishing she could pull away, he would lessen the pressure, licking gently around it along the inner edges of her labia. She could feel his nose pressing up against her hole, actually penetrating her ever so slightly.

The young redhead was clearly enjoying herself; the whimpers and moans escaping from her gag betrayed her pleasure. Laurel looked on contentedly at the tableau before her; a voluptuous, lingerie-clad woman and her beloved slave, both delightfully and hopelessly restrained. Her own desire, which she had kept simmering but controlled throughout the day and the evening, suddenly exploded. Though it had not been part of her original plan, she unzipped the crotch of her catsuit, clambered onto Jared’s erect cock, and impaled herself. She could tend to Jessalyn soon enough, and in any case, this little detour wouldn’t take long.

In fact, watching her leather-clad boss grind and buck her hips onto the man whose tongue was mashing up against her clit only served to deepen Jessalyn’s arousal. It didn’t hurt that Laurel made a point of staring directly into Jess’s eyes while she pleasured herself on the stiff erzincan escort cock of her slave. As she began to feel her climax building, Laurel reached out and grabbed hold of the chain that dangled between the bound woman’s breasts, pulling it taut.

“Nrrrggghhhh,” Jessalyn grunted through her gag, the intensified pain from her nipples lending a new spike of pleasure to the sensations emanating from her sodden cunt. A little corner of her brain wondered what was wrong with her that pain made her pleasure feel that much better, but most of her didn’t care—she just wanted more.

“Oh, Godddddddddd fffffucccckkkkk yessssssssss,” Laurel cried as the wave of her orgasm crested and pleasure wracked her body. She pressed Jared’s cock as far up into her as she could, her involuntarily closed eyes the only thing that had broken her gaze from Jessalyn’s lovely ball-gagged face. As the throes of her ecstasy faded, she smiled at the helpless redhead before her.

“That, my dear, is what you have to look forward to,” she said, climbing off the bound man underneath her. Jessalyn could see his cock was still rock hard, and glistening now with Laurel’s juices. As Laurel had ridden him, the ministrations of his tongue had never ceased or slackened; all his focus had been on his commanded task. Of course, for him, the pleasure of Laurel’s tight pussy had been exquisite; even more so had been his mistress’s orgasm. Her pleasure was, for him, the pinnacle of sexual excitement, and though of course he looked forward to his own inevitable release, nothing brought him greater joy than Laurel’s cries of bliss as she came.

Laurel hesitated over whether she should use the soft leather flogger or the crueler riding crop. Jessalyn obviously responded quite nicely to pain, and, from the way she was handling the nipple clamps, appeared to have a decent tolerance. Still, Laurel didn’t want to overwhelm the poor girl. Later, her limits could be tested, but for now, she thought, the flogger would do—particularly with Jared’s expert tongue working at her clit. Laurel honestly thought Jessalyn must be pretty close.

The first blow landed heavily across the redhead’s round, pale ass cheeks with a satisfying “thwap.” Laurel knew it was not a hard blow, and to an experienced recipient it would feel like little more than a firm pat on the butt. She waited to see if Jessalyn would make any sort of reaction, but she just hung there in her bonds. A second blow came harder. Again, no apparent reaction. Jessalyn, of course, felt the thongs of leather striking her, but they offered much less pain that she was hoping for, indeed much less than she was already experiencing from the clamps on her nipples, her bound hair, and her strained shoulders.

Laurel began to strike harder and in rapid succession. This was better; Jessalyn began to tense up her pelvic muscles as the blows landed, the repeated clutching and releasing adding to the warm pleasure of the slave’s tongue. But still she uttered no sound. Laurel was swinging the flogger vigorously now, putting her weight into it. It would hurt now, she knew. As the thongs continued to fall, the pain did indeed begin to build as Jessalyn’s pale flesh reddened. Still no muffled cries, though. Finally, Laurel heard something, mistaking it at first for a whimper of pain. She struck again, and the sound was repeated, more loudly this time. Still not recognizing what the younger girl was communicating, Laurel once more struck home. This time Jessalyn screamed it with all the breath she could muster, silently cursing the gag that filled her mouth: “HRDR!”

Finally Laurel understood. She unleashed the most savage blow she could, and again came the muffled scream: “HRDR!!!”

“My, my,” Laurel said. “You are a little pain slut, aren’t you? I think I’d like to hear you more clearly.” She removed the gag from Jessalyn’s mouth; as she did so a large dollop of saliva poured out onto Jared’s chest below.

“You were saying?” Laurel asked.

“Harder,” Jessalyn said, more quietly now that she could make herself understood.

“Did you forget how to address me, slut?”

“Harder, Mistress.”



Laurel, riding crop now in hand, flicked it lightly at the bound girl’s ass—hardly a blow at all.

“Please, Mistress. Please hit me harder.”

A second flick of the crop, just slightly harder, still not enough to hurt even sunburned flesh.

“What are you going to do for me if I hit you harder?”

“Anything, Mistress. Please, I’ll do anything you want.”

“Anything? That’s a dangerous promise.”

“Anything, please, please oh God just hurt me.”

Almost instantly, Laurel unleashed a vicious blow across both cheeks. Stinging pain tore through Jessalyn’s body and she let loose a high-pitched wail.

“Fuck! Yes!” she cried, the burning still coursing through her nerves.

Another blow, just as hard, another scream even louder.

“Do you feel it building inside erzurum escort you, Jessalyn?”

“Yes, Mistress. Please, again.” Again the raven-haired dominant struck, and then 1-2-3-4 four blows in rapid succession.

“Nnnnneeeeeeaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” screamed the curvy redhead, her flesh on fire, each flick of the slave’s tongue now bringing her closer. She started to heave and pant.

“Now, Jessalyn, I’m going to strike you one more time, and when I do, you’re going to come, all over my slave’s face.”

“Yes, Mistress,” she said, already feeling her orgasm about to explode. The crop met flesh, breaking the skin.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” wailed Jessalyn, pain searing her brain, and then wave after wave of the most delightful pleasure, her pussy erupting in spasms, liquid ejaculate squirting out all over Jared’s face, her sharp cry devolving into guttural grunts and moans as her climax pulsed through her, pain and pleasure intermingled, inseparable, every sensation heightened by her inability to move.

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck,” she whimpered, her body still quivering as the orgasm washed away.

“Slave, enough,” Laurel said softly, and immediately his tongue was gone from her still-pulsating clit. Laurel quickly released Jessalyn’s hair, allowing her head to fall forward. She then undid Jared’s bonds before removing Jessalyn fully from her restraints, who collapsed onto the bed, rolling over to reveal a look somewhere between exhaustion and relief. Laurel smiled down at her.

“Well, was it worth the wait?”

“Oh my God,” said Jessalyn. “I had no idea…” Lost for words, her voice trailed off and all she could manage was a grateful smile. “Thank you,” she said after several second.

Laurel quickly picked up the crop off the bed and slapped the tip of it hard onto one of Jessalyn’s exposed nipples. “Forgetting something, my dear?”

“Thank you, Mistress. And thank you, slave,” she added, turning to Jared.

“You’re so welcome, my dear,” Laurel said. “But you’re going to have to do more than that to properly show your appreciation.” She lay on the bed, spreading her legs, and with a sultry gaze, said to the younger girl, “Eat.”

Jessalyn had of course never gone down on a girl—she didn’t even much experience sucking cock. But she was, at this point, game for anything, and she had promised as much besides just minutes before. Without hesitation then, she began to lick at Laurel’s dripping pussy, trying to emulate what Jared’s tongue had been doing to her. Totally anathema to her upbringing, she found the entire idea of licking another woman’s sex to be extremely arousing. The taboo of it, the dirtiness, was so titillating, not to mention the fact that the woman was encased in skin-tight black leather, and a man was just inches away, watching.

In fact, Jared wasn’t just watching. As Jessalyn’s face disappeared between her thighs, Laruel motioned for Jared to penetrate her from behind, an unspoken command to which he brooked no objection. As his cock slid into Jess’s tight, slick hole, she gasped, but didn’t break from her oral activities. Jessalyn made up in enthusiasm what she lacked in experience, and with Laurel’s own level of arousal already at a fever pitch, the older woman was soon coming.

“Slave, lay down,” Laurel said, enjoying Jessalyn’s sweet gaze up at her, her tongue still gliding over Laurel’s wet-slicked flesh. Jared stopped his thrusting and pulled out of the redhead, admiring her plump, round ass as he did so.

“Now it’s his turn,” Laurel said to Jessalyn. Again, without hesitation, she took Jared’s erect cock into her mouth, savoring the taste of her own juices which, she thought, was noticeably different from Laurel’s.

“You may come whenever you’re ready, slave,” Laurel said. Not being particularly adept at fellatio, Jessalyn’s mouth couldn’t take much of Jared’s length. Laurel could sense his orgasm would be along way off at this rate, and, in any case, both for her own sake and for Jessalyn’s she wanted the younger girl to be uncomfortable. She grabbed a fistful of red head and roughly pulled Jessalyn off, dragging her across the bed and onto the floor. Jessalyn crawled along as best she could but the pain from her hair burned through her scalp and coursed down the rest of her body.

“Kneel,” Laurel said harshly, still clutching Jessalyn’s hair, pulling her up now until she was on her knees.

“My new pet requires harsh treatment, slave,” she said. “Get over here and fuck her throat until you come. You, slut, open your mouth.”

Laurel stood behind Jessalyn, keeping a tight hold on her hair with one hand and the back of her head with the other, while Jared stood before her and slowly slid his cock into her mouth until she started to gag. He started to pull back but Laurel, pushing from behind, actually forced him further into Jessalyn’s throat. As she began to cough, Laurel pulled her head back violently, releasing the bursa escort shaft from her lips. Jessalyn immediately threw up a dollop of stringy saliva onto the carpet.

“Fuck her throat, slave!” Laurel snarled, and suddenly Jared’s cock was again sliding into Jessalyn’s mouth, more firmly this time. Jared began to thrust in and out, Laurel pushing Jessalyn’s head back and forth to match his rhythm. Fighting her gag reflex, Jessalyn felt tears welling in her eyes, not from being upset but simply as the result of the assault on her tonsils. After twenty or thirty seconds, Laurel pulled her head away and she took several quick gasps of air. Jessalyn felt like the world’s biggest slut at that moment. No—she didn’t just feel like it, she told herself. She was the world’s biggest slut. And the realization of it only made her hornier. She opened her mouth eagerly now, ready to swallow the hard cock of this complete stranger, and as he slammed away at her, more violently now, she could feel the tightness of her lust welling up in her pussy and clit.

After two or three more brief pauses to breath, Laurel still controlling the movement of her head, Jared’s thick cum exploded into Jessalyn’s mouth. Jared pressed forward as he came, and Laurel pushed from behind, forcing the head of his cock deep into her throat, her lips pressed up against his torso. This actually made it easy for her to swallow the cum; in fact, it simply shot right down her throat into her stomach. This, too, the trashiness of it, ramped up the sensations in her cunt, and as Laurel pulled her mouth off the still-hard phallus, Jessalyn said almost involuntarily, “Make me come again,” remembering at the last second to say “Mistress” but then purposefully neglecting to do so in the hopes of a physical and painful rebuke.

She was not disappointed; Laurel, still clutching her hair, hauled her to her feet, and then slapped her hard across her left breast. “Did you say something, painslut?”

“Make me come again.”

Another slap on her breast, harder. Laurel knew she was being provoked, and found herself moving beyond the parameters of the role-playing they were engaged in, real anger welling up inside her at Jessalyn’s intransigence. Pulling the girl’s head back by her hair, Laurel quickly slid two fingers into Jess’s sopping pussy, and pressed them hard against the front wall, simultaneously lifting up.

“You are forgetting your position, slut,” she said in a menacing half-whisper, leaning in close to Jessalyn’s anguished face. Jessalyn’s eyes were alive with defiance, flaunting her new-found masochism, daring Laurel to take her pain to new heights.

“Please, Mistress, make me come again,” she said.

Laurel pushed Jessalyn down on to the bed without taking her fingers out of the redhead’s pussy, and, once her victim was prone, pushed her entire fist inside without taking any time to let Jess’s swollen cunt adjust. A ring of fire pulsed outward from her suddenly-stretched labia, that, combined with the feeling of fullness from Laurel’s hand, brought Jessalyn right to the edge. Laurel began to move her fist in and out, not retracting it entirely, but making sure she was constantly stretching Jesslayn’s pussy as much as she could. With her other hand she pinched Jess’s clit between her labia, grasping it hard between thumb and forefinger and tugging it up and down.

Pain and pleasure swirled together in Jesslyn’s body and mind and she let loose a series of animalistic groans as another orgasm took hold of her. Laurel looked on with satisfaction as her new pet writhed and moaned at the end of her arm. Jared had come to her fully formed, a perfect slave merely in need of someone to serve. But Jessalyn was different—Laurel felt like she had created, or at least unleashed, her own little painslut. There was something uniquely rewarding to her deeply-rooted inner sadist to have someone who wanted to be hurt for the sake of the pain itself, and not merely as a byproduct of submission. Laurel felt more powerful than she’d ever felt, and she didn’t want it to stop. Jessalyn’s new-found love of pain meant that hurting her wasn’t necessarily an act of dominance—and besides that, there are other kinds of pain than physical pain. As much as Laurel had enjoyed Jess’s spirited taunting, the girl needed some sort of punishment, and if physical pain wouldn’t fit the bill, perhaps some degree of humiliation would.

“Give him your ass, slut,” she said, slipping her hand from the tight grip of Jessalyn’s pussy. Jessalyn had never even begun to think about her ass in a sexual way. She knew anal sex existed, of course, but had never even tried to conceive of it happening to her. But this was a night of exploration, and the breaking of what she had hitherto considered taboos was in large part responsible for her heightened arousal. And she could no more refuse Laurel at this point that she could turn back the clock and undo what had already transpired.

Jared reached for the bottle of lube from the nightstand drawer, but Laurel told him to put it down.

“The slut likes pain,” she said. “She’ll take it dry.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“And don’t treat her ass as tenderly as you did her throat. Fuck it like a goddamn savage, and come at your leisure.”

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