Two Hours - Sex Stories

Two Hours

Two Hours

Okay so I had lost the bet with Tom; it was no big deal, I’d submitted to him before now and had fun. But this was going to be different; he had boasted in front of my husband and his wife, he could make me give out a ‘password’ to stop within 2 hours of starting. Previously he hadn’t done anything to me that was beyond a mild level of BDSM. Once, I’d lost the bet, I kinda knew he had something extra to do. That had been a week ago, the last 2 days I had been very wet most of the time as I went about my life but thinking of this evening.

So here I was in his special room, naked bar my high heels and stockings. His wife has a big cheesy grin on her face and was seated with Dave, both eagerly awaiting to see what would happen. I could tell Christine’s was already excited her nipples swollen and hard obviously pushing thru the thin material of her braless t-shirt top. My husband was showing his excitement from the bulge in his pants already, but like me he didn’t know what was to unfold, I had a feeling Christine did.

He had me lay across the big oak table and when he finished tying me, my thighs made an angle exceeding 120 degrees, a pillow under me raised my mound higher than any other body part, my hands were above my head, and the strap around my waist limited my torso’s movement to a couple of inches in any direction. I felt completely available to him.

“Relax, you’ll be here for two hours,” he said mildly.

Two hours, and no clue what he might be ...

... planning for me in that time. I drew a deep, cleansing breath, knowing that I trusted him, however painfully he might sometimes treat my body. I relaxed my muscles as much as possible; this wasn’t an inherently uncomfortable position.

The first thing I saw him reach for was the vacuum. It was a small unit, converted to apply its suction to a slender, clear plastic tube. I had felt the effects of this contraption on my nipples, and on my clitoris, in the past. It was stimulating, painful only when the application was prolonged.

A few weeks ago, however, he’d shown me a photo series on the Internet, depicting a woman’s clitoris being tortured. Her tormentor had used a suction device to pull the clitoris out as much as possible, then utilizing a thin coated wire below the tube’s opening to bind the extracted tissue in an exposed posture. The suction device had then been removed, leaving her vulnerable to stimulation beyond the limits of manual exposure. The possibilities were immediately obvious to both of us, and he’d indicated he planned to try this on me at some point. I’d forgotten about it in the interim, until the vacuum appeared. Was today the day?

His fingers probed between my labia, confirming that the vacuum was going to be used on my clit. I felt the cold plastic surround that most sensitive node, heard the switch, and my pleasure button was suddenly engorged and stretched to the utter limits of comfort. I could see the pink flesh standing away from my body. ...