Two Hours - Sex Stories

Two Hours

... His hand reached for something; he raised it so I could see the thin wire before he lowered it to its intended place. It constricted the distended flesh, nearly breaking the suction as he carefully arranged it, then twisted it to tighten it. I emitted a squeak of mild protest as it neared the point of maximum compression. The suction abruptly stopped and the tube slid away from my body.

Looking down along my body, I could see a misshapen clump of flesh protruding above the wire. I could distinguish the rounded tip at the top as the portion of my clitoris that was exposed simply by parting my lips. The additional part was clearly protected mucus membrane, and all of it was rapidly turning purplish with engorged blood.

“Twenty minutes right now. Can’t have this area lose blood flow for too long.” He set the little kitchen timer as he spoke.

His fingers brushed lightly over his target, producing a delicate wave of pleasure throughout my genitals. He grinned, and we both knew that pleasure was not what I’d be feeling, shortly. Indeed, the next item he removed from his toolbox was a wooden ruler. The first swat was light, but still hurt! This produced another squeak from me, but he continued to hit his little toy against my tender flesh. I struggled against the pain, then gave in to it, absorbing the sting and adjusting my breathing to accept this treatment. As I got deeper into this semi-trance, he increased the force he used, until the blows were quite sharp, and I was ...

... able to remain still. The only sounds were the sharp crack of the wood against my body and the forced exhalation of my response. Finally, he increased the force enough to cause the pain to break through to my consciousness. “Ow! Ow! OW!” I yelled as the ruler continued to fall.

He stopped briefly; the next blow I felt was of a different calibre. “Yeow!”

My eyes flew open to see the heavy double slapper on its descent—whap-whap! “Ah!” A steady rain of blows fell, all in the same place, each hurting more than the last. I stopped fighting them but never reached the point of not responding verbally. My reactions were not as strong, but the “Ow”, “Ow”, or “Ah!” came with each and every swat. This hurt, a lot! And I got no breaks, only more pain to the same tiny, swollen, sore bit of me!

Just when I thought I couldn’t stand one more stroke with that heavy leather, it stopped. But he wasn’t done, only changing implements once again. This time, the thin crop landed on the target. The sharp sting cut right through the center of the target flesh. The crop was thinner than the mound of tissue he aimed it at, so I felt like a knife was cutting through me each time that infernal crop hit! This time, he varied the angle, so that the stripes all crossed near the center of the clitoris, but the peripheral areas that were struck varied. It didn’t make it any less painful! Forget “Ow!” My voice degenerated into a continuous scream, “EEEEEEEE!” The scream was broken only by my need to ...