Two Hours - Sex Stories

Two Hours

... inhale.

I was nearly ready to break into sobs when the quality of the pain changed. The way he was hitting me remained the same, but my body had crossed that invisible line where pain returns to pleasure. Suddenly the screams were punctuated by moans and cries indicating that I was approaching an orgasm, in spite of the horrible burning in my pleasure center. My body bucked and strained against my bindings in spasms of ecstasy, each stripe bringing me closer to the climax I now craved. “Ah! Ah! Oh!” I felt the muscles in my pelvis contract as I peaked through the pain. No longer was I focused on the misery, but on its opposite.

Incongruously, the “Beep!” of the timer cut through my satiated moans and the cruel cuts of the crop ceased. He reached down to remove the wire from my swollen, purple clitoris. The rush of fresh blood to the area was as painful as any of the whipping I’d undergone, and reduced me to howling once again. “Oh, it hurts! Ow! Ow!” I was so mentally focused on the pain in that tiny organ that I failed to notice that my torturer had picked up a different crop, and had moved to my side. The first blow to the left nipple came just as the clitoral pain had receded to a bearable discomfort. “Yeow!”

“Couldn’t leave those hard little nipples out entirely.” And the crop hit the right nipple! Soon, as the colour in my clitoris returned to a near-normal redness, my nipples began to approach that colour from the other direction. The pale pink flesh was ...

... replaced with a turgid crimson, as I yelped at each and every stoke.

My clitoris was not going to receive a full respite, however! The swollen tissue had not retreated fully into its hood, and the crop began to intersperse its sting on the clit as well as the nipples. He then shifted his target area away from my breasts entirely. One hand opened my inner labia to expose flesh that was heretofore untouched. Whack! I yowled as the wet inner lips turned scarlet and flaming under his attentions. The blows returned to my clit just often enough to keep it sore and miserable throughout this volley.

When the next implement change came, I had been reduced to whimpering and cringing at each blow. I was so tender that what came next was painful, even though it was not meant to be. He flicked at my clit tip with the soft brush we use to tease me to a gentle orgasm. It did not take long for the rapid vibration of the brush to override the pain and bring me once again to a state of pleasure, enhanced now by the soreness I was experiencing as a result of the beatings. But the timer interrupted!

I hadn’t even realized that he’d set it. Abruptly, he abandoned the brush, leaving me just shy of an orgasm!

“Time for more binding.” How could he be so nonchalant about it!?!?!

The suction was torture this time! I could see that the flesh being sucked into the tube was redder than the first time. And I could certainly feel how bruised I was!

“I believe there is more in here, this time. ...