My Mentor - Part 7
My cunt was creaming. The thick dildo wedged up into me kept my body erect. That, along with the tight posture collar part of the sensory depriving hood, and the way my wrists were tied together and pulled straight up over my head. The balls of my feet touched the ground. I’d pulled my legs as close together as I could, taking the dildo inbetween my muscles and trying to clench down. The longer they left me like this, the wetter I became. My cunt juices were running down the intruder. I was picturing it, a big dildo on a pole stand, set between my legs, so high that my cunt devoured it and couldn’t escape.



I tried humping but couldn’t lift myself enough. The tiny bit I could take I did, fucking the dildo futility. I felt His hands on my tits. First they rubbed my nipples, almost too softly, almost painfully. Then, the touch was harder. Rougher. Then squeezing. I grunted. Helplessly turned on and unable to do anything about it.



When He touched my clit with his fingers I was alive again. I moaned. He ran his finger around the pointed hard dark pink clit and He spoke again. “Now look at her. Now she’s My whore. Now she’ll do anything for Me, craving Me. Now I can torture her, I can do anything I want to her, and she will endure it begging only to be allowed to cum. Now she wants to please Me, instead of escaping Me. Isn’t that right, whore.”



I nodded. I could feel Him moving into me, pressing against me from the front. My tits crushed against His chest, His face near my shoulder and the nape of my neck. His hands worked me, squeezing my shoulders, tickling down my upper-arms, pressing up and into the sides of my tits, down over the curve of my hips, to the top of my thighs. I was aching for Him, I was wet. Flowing. His fingers found my clit and I moaned.



I was so into Him, so desperately and completely His. I was dizzied in his arms, stretched and beaten, impaled in my pussy and masked for humility, I was still so completely and utterly His.



And then I heard Him whisper over my shoulder, “Go ahead.”



As I wondered if he meant for me to go ahead and cum I felt the sting on ass cheek. And again. Each strike driving me forward into him. It was different than before. It wasn’t a whip, but it wasn’t a paddle. It was some kind of thick strap. And whoever was beating my ass with it knew what they were doing.



But so did He. He pressed His knuckles backward against the mounted pole impaling my vagina, and used His two fingers to catch and hold onto my throbbing clitoris. Steadying it, clamping it firmly, then rubbing His thumb on to the tip, just the tip. Stroking it with His thumb.



I grunted again, the mouth piece restricting anything human, as was the whole point of that slave’s hood. He let me press against Him as my body reacted to the strikes of the belt on my ass. It was more important to me to absorb them, and not move, not pull away or interrupt what He was doing to my poor and begging clit, than to get away from the pain.



His face was in the nape of my neck, His other hand squeezing my tit up against Him, steadying me with the grip He had on it as if it were a handle to my body. My cunt sucked the dildo and began to convulse. I was taking in sharp short breaths, trying not to faint.



And then He did something I wasn’t expecting. I could feel His lips on the top of my shoulder, just at the base of my neck. Just below the stiff collar. And He kissed me. Gently, and again. And again. Kissing my neck, holding me still by my titmeat up against Him and squeezing my tortured clit in His fingers.



I think the belt was still smacking me, but I was past it. I had pushed past it. I wanted to cum, while He was kissing me, and I would have done anything for that privilege.



In sensory overload I had stiffened, trying not to move. Grunting uncontrollably like a wild animal, caged and forced, captured and milked.



I was trembling Actually, it was more like a full bodied shudder. He lifted his mouth from my skin long enough to say, “Stop now. Let her cum in peace. She earned it.”



As His lips touched my skin again, I began begging, muffled into the bit, begging him to press his thumb into my clit and let me cum.



He released my tit from His grip and ran Jis hand around my backside, roughly running down my ass cheek which felt like it was on fire. With no regard for what the belt had done, He separated my ass cheeks with his fingers, pulling me against him harder, and dig his dry fingers into my asshole. It felt like 3 fingers, but it may have only been two, I have no idea. I gasped, and my feet went out from underneath me for a moment. I was impaled and helpless, on that dildo in my cunt, so far up into my cunt that I could feel my pussy muscle closing in on it from the top.



He dug His knuckles back farther, pinning my clit to the stabilizing pole in my pussy, and I could feel His fingers in my ass pushing forward, until it felt like they were also pinned to the pole. I felt completely filled. Every hole. Even my mouth was stuffed.



I grunted as He pushed His hands together inside of me, against me, letting my weight fall forward onto His strong body. I opened my bound hands, and then clenched them into fists again as I began to whimper.



I began to cum, but it was like no other orgasm I’d ever had. It wasn’t my clit and I don’t even think it was like a G Spot orgasm. It was something combining, something higher. I stiffened, and shook, and hollered out uncontrollably. He steadied me as I did.



And then He released me. My body was like a rag doll. I went limp. He quickly released some kind of locking latch on the pole, I could hear it snap and then the slobbering wet dildo slid down and out of me. I hung by wrists, barely able to get my feet underneath me.



He had moved away from me, I could feel the emptiness in the air around me as two others let me down, releasing me from the pully that had held me upright by my bound wrists, and let me lay on the cold cement floor on my side.



They began to take my strapped slave hood off of me, but I heard my Master’s voice stop them. “No. She sees only Me. Remember what I’ve taught you about imprinting.”



I could hear His footstops returning to me. I could feel Him kneeling next to my exhausted body and I felt His hand stroke my face over the leather encasement. “It will only be My face she can see in her mind. Even now, as we take our turns with her.”


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