Laurel was particularly proud of the manner in which she had trussed Jessalyn up to the bed. The redhead was on her knees, leaning forward at not quite a forty-five degree angle. Her calves were bent back behind her, each ankle encased in leather cuffs and secured to its respective bedpost with a thin chain. Her arms were pulled back behind her in a leather binder, which was secured to the crossbeam above and behind her. Her hair, conversely, was secured to the lower crossbeam, this having the delicious effect of tilting her head back while pushing her breasts forward, held as they were by the cupless corset she was still wearing. A thick leather belt around her waist, secured to the bedposts from d-rings on either side, provided lateral support. Finally, a trainer gag wrapped around her face and head. Thin rivulets of drool were already dripping from around the red vinyl ball that was pushed deep into her mouth.
The pressure on Jessalyn's shoulders and hair was certainly uncomfortable, if not exactly painful yet. Still, the discomfort added to her growing desire. But mostly the utter hopelessness of escaping from her bonds triggered her excitement. There was absolutely nothing, she realized, that she could do. If Laurel chose to leave her there, there she would stay. She could hardly even struggle; doing so just pulled her hair that much harder, although she did from time to time, enjoying the pain this brought her.
"You look," Laurel said, "absolutely delicious." She grabbed her cellphone and took several pictures of the trussed-up redhead from various angles. Then she sat on the bed in front of Jessalyn and took one of the younger girl's large nipples into her mouth, running her tongue over it, nibbling at it with her teeth, feeling it grow harder. Jessalyn moaned through her gag. But tender sucking was not what she wanted, and both women knew it.
With the nipple about as erect as Laurel thought it could get, she let it fall from her mouth and placed a heavy clover clamp on it. Pain shot through Jessalyn's chest, and she made a high-pitched gurgling noise in her throat. Laurel repeated the whole process on the other nipple, and, when both sides were secured, gave the chain a sharp tug to make sure the clamps were tight enough. Finally she placed a pillow just below Jessalyn's exposed pussy.
"Slave!" she called. Jared, waiting just outside in the hallyway, entered instantly. Jessalyn could barely see the bed below her, with her head being pulled back, but rolling her eyes down as far as she could allowed her watch Laurel place leather straps around his prone body, starting at his ankles and working up, although Jessalyn lost sight of him somewhere around his belly button. She could feel his breath, though, between her legs, and knew his head was down there somewhere.
Indeed it was, just an inch or so below her pussy. Jared looked up at the girl's quivering labia, visibly slick with moisture, his cock growing ever harder in anticipation of her taste. Satisfied with his bonds, Laurel climbed off the bed and retrieved a small pillow from the window seat, shoving it underneath the pillow on which his head already rested and pushing his face further up, his nose now pressing into the folds of her cunt, close enough now that his tongue with only minimal effort could press hard up against Jessalyn's clit—which is exactly what he was commanded to do just seconds later.
Jessalyn, drool dripping down her chin, couldn't believe the sensations she was experiencing at the touch of his tongue. Mark had never shown much interest in going down on her; she could recall maybe a half dozen times in their almost three years together, and never with any skillfulness. The slave's tongue pushed and flicked and ground up into this little button of pleasure she had so long ignored. Just when the sensations were almost too much, and she found herself wishing she could pull away, he would lessen the pressure, licking gently around it along the inner edges of her labia. She could feel his nose pressing up against her hole, actually penetrating her ever so slightly.
The young redhead was clearly enjoying herself; the whimpers and moans escaping from her gag betrayed her pleasure. Laurel looked on contentedly at the tableau before her; a voluptuous, lingerie-clad woman and her beloved slave, both delightfully and hopelessly restrained. Her own desire, which she had kept simmering but controlled throughout the day and the evening, suddenly exploded. Though it had not been part of her original plan, she unzipped the crotch of her catsuit, clambered onto Jared's erect cock, and impaled herself. She could tend to Jessalyn soon enough, and in any case, this little detour wouldn't take long.
In fact, watching her leather-clad boss grind and buck her hips onto the man whose tongue was mashing up against her clit only served to deepen Jessalyn's arousal. It didn't hurt that Laurel made a point of staring directly into Jess's eyes while she pleasured herself on the stiff cock of her slave. As she began to feel her climax building, Laurel reached out and grabbed hold of the chain that dangled between the bound woman's breasts, pulling it taut.
"Nrrrggghhhh," Jessalyn grunted through her gag, the intensified pain from her nipples lending a new spike of pleasure to the sensations emanating from her sodden cunt. A little corner of her brain wondered what was wrong with her that pain made her pleasure feel that much better, but most of her didn't care—she just wanted more.
"Oh, Godddddddddd fffffucccckkkkk yessssssssss," Laurel cried as the wave of her orgasm crested and pleasure wracked her body. She pressed Jared's cock as far up into her as she could, her involuntarily closed eyes the only thing that had broken her gaze from Jessalyn's lovely ball-gagged face. As the throes of her ecstasy faded, she smiled at the helpless redhead before her.
"That, my dear, is what you have to look forward to," she said, climbing off the bound man underneath her. Jessalyn could see his cock was still rock hard, and glistening now with Laurel's juices. As Laurel had ridden him, the ministrations of his tongue had never ceased or slackened; all his focus had been on his commanded task. Of course, for him, the pleasure of Laurel's tight pussy had been exquisite; even more so had been his mistress's orgasm. Her pleasure was, for him, the pinnacle of sexual excitement, and though of course he looked forward to his own inevitable release, nothing brought him greater joy than Laurel's cries of bliss as she came.
Laurel hesitated over whether she should use the soft leather flogger or the crueler riding crop. Jessalyn obviously responded quite nicely to pain, and, from the way she was handling the nipple clamps, appeared to have a decent tolerance. Still, Laurel didn't want to overwhelm the poor girl. Later, her limits could be tested, but for now, she thought, the flogger would do—particularly with Jared's expert tongue working at her clit. Laurel honestly thought Jessalyn must be pretty close.
The first blow landed heavily across the redhead's round, pale ass cheeks with a satisfying "thwap." Laurel knew it was not a hard blow, and to an experienced recipient it would feel like little more than a firm pat on the butt. She waited to see if Jessalyn would make any sort of reaction, but she just hung there in her bonds. A second blow came harder. Again, no apparent reaction. Jessalyn, of course, felt the thongs of leather striking her, but they offered much less pain that she was hoping for, indeed much less than she was already experiencing from the clamps on her nipples, her bound hair, and her strained shoulders.
Laurel began to strike harder and in rapid succession. This was better; Jessalyn began to tense up her pelvic muscles as the blows landed, the repeated clutching and releasing adding to the warm pleasure of the slave's tongue. But still she uttered no sound. Laurel was swinging the flogger vigorously now, putting her weight into it. It would hurt now, she knew. As the thongs continued to fall, the pain did indeed begin to build as Jessalyn's pale flesh reddened. Still no muffled cries, though. Finally, Laurel heard something, mistaking it at first for a whimper of pain. She struck again, and the sound was repeated, more loudly this time. Still not recognizing what the younger girl was communicating, Laurel once more struck home. This time Jessalyn screamed it with all the breath she could muster, silently cursing the gag that filled her mouth: "HRDR!"
Finally Laurel understood. She unleashed the most savage blow she could, and again came the muffled scream: "HRDR!!!"
"My, my," Laurel said. "You are a little pain slut, aren't you? I think I'd like to hear you more clearly." She removed the gag from Jessalyn's mouth; as she did so a large dollop of saliva poured out onto Jared's chest below.
"You were saying?" Laurel asked.
"Harder," Jessalyn said, more quietly now that she could make herself understood.
"Did you forget how to address me, slut?"
"Harder, Mistress."
"Beg."
"Please."
Laurel, riding crop now in hand, flicked it lightly at the bound girl's ass—hardly a blow at all.
"Please, Mistress. Please hit me harder."
A second flick of the crop, just slightly harder, still not enough to hurt even sunburned flesh.
"What are you going to do for me if I hit you harder?"
"Anything, Mistress. Please, I'll do anything you want."
"Anything? That's a dangerous promise."
"Anything, please, please oh God just hurt me."
Almost instantly, Laurel unleashed a vicious blow across both cheeks. Stinging pain tore through Jessalyn's body and she let loose a high-pitched wail.
"Fuck! Yes!" she cried, the burning still coursing through her nerves.
Another blow, just as hard, another scream even louder.
"Do you feel it building inside you, Jessalyn?"
