How to use your Genie - Sex Stories

How to use your Genie

... bear. "John, please... it hurts."

But John was undeterred. "Just a bit more," he whispered, his voice soothing yet firm. I felt a familiar pressure building, the stretching sensation growing more pronounced as the widest part of the ball approached the entrance.

With one final push, the ball slipped past the tight resistance, settling deep within me beside the first. The relief was palpable, though short-lived, as the combined weight and fullness from the two balls created an even more intense sensation.

Before I could even process the feeling, John was already reaching for a third. My eyes widened in disbelief. "No... no more," I pleaded weakly, my body still reeling from the last insertion.

But John had other ideas. His gaze never left mine as he positioned the third ball, a challenge clear in his eyes. I tried to resist, pulling away, but it was futile. The third ball was being pushed into me, and despite my resistance, despite the tears and pleas, it found its way inside.

The feeling was now almost unbearable, the weight and fullness stretching me to my limits. My body trembled, the combined sensation of pain and pleasure creating a maelstrom of emotions. But even as I cursed and cried, a part of me reveled in the intensity, in the undeniable arousal that this deviant act evoked.

The sensation inside me was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. It wasn't just the feeling of being full; it was a constant reminder of the deviant act that had been ...

... done to me. The weight of the balls shifted slightly with each breath I took, creating a gentle rolling sensation deep within. My inner walls instinctively tightened around them, trying to hold them in place.

Every tiny movement made the balls shift, sending a cascade of sensations rippling through my core. When I tried to adjust, even slightly, the balls would press against sensitive spots inside, eliciting a gasp or a moan from my lips. It was both uncomfortable and strangely arousing, a juxtaposition that my mind struggled to comprehend.

I could feel the cold hardness of the billiard balls pressing against my innermost depths, contrasting starkly with the warm, supple flesh that surrounded them. The sheer weight of them pulled downward, causing a dull ache that was persistent and distracting. Each breath, each heartbeat seemed to resonate through the balls, amplifying the sensation and keeping me constantly aware of their presence.

But more than the physical sensation, it was the psychological aspect that weighed on me. The knowledge of what had been done to me, how I had been filled and stretched in such an unconventional way, played on my mind. It was degrading, humiliating, and yet there was a part of me that was inexplicably drawn to it, a dark corner of my psyche that reveled in the depravity.

I tried to shift, hoping to find a position that would alleviate some of the discomfort. But every movement only intensified the sensation, the balls rubbing and ...