The scenario we discussed earlier continues to evolve and extend in my mind...
I think of you already gagged, blindfolded, bound to the bedposts, the eggs churning at low power deep inside you, your bowels filled with the ten anal beads. I need not guess at the sheer pleasure you feel at the triple-penetration, the security of the cuffs wrapped snugly around your ankles and your wrists, the softness of the flannel sheet beneath your nude body, the sensitive fleshy pebbles adorning your breasts. I envision your tongue brushing the fake phallus in your mouth, your dripping sex trembling around the rumbling eggs, your bowels clenching tightly around the invading beads, your arms and your legs all pulling forcefully against the bonds as, of its own volition, your body slithers upon the bed like an excited snake.
As the power to the eggs slowly increases, I can envision your whimpers turning into moans, and as I carefully pull a few of the beads out of you and then gently push them back past the tight ring and into your forbidden passage, I can hear your voice rising, becoming louder despite the phallic invader in your mouth, ultimately screaming as each of the beads is nudged back inside your body, each bead sensually jolting your sphincter, each one producing a new sensation of pleasure which cascades through your loins and melds perfectly with the shockwaves produced by the churning eggs. I can definitely smell the musky scent of your passion as it fills the air and permeates the room.
And as you shriek and squirm and soak the bed, I pick up the black heavy leather flogger, spend a few moments caressing your sweat-covered back with its long wide tails, then take a fistful of your hair in my free hand and pull hard while I beat you with the flogger, purposely hurting you, causing your screams to change in tone and in volume, each vicious strike across your shapely buns sending additional tremors along the string of beads and deep into your bowels while turning your flesh to several beautiful shades of pink.
Then, releasing your hair, I set the flogger aside and turn down the power to the eggs. Slowly, your body begins to calm, still triply-penetrated, still shuddering as the aftershocks of pleasure continue to course through your being. I wet a washcloth and glide it across your skin, cooling you and wiping away the sweat. Retreating, I turn on the fan near the foot of the bed, allowing for cooled air to blow over your body.
In time, the anal beads are slowly extracted from you, removed with care and set aside. Immediately, more lube is applied to your tight rosebud, pressed deep inside you, and a well-lubricated anal plug gently pressed between your sultry cheeks. Slowly, carefully, the plug is worked into you, causing you to moan anew around the fake phallus, and once it is fully inside you, I untie the ropes connecting the D-rings to the bedposts, then use a double-ended clip to attach your leather wrist cuffs together behind your back.
At last, I am able to hold you. As I again slowly increase the power to the eggs nestled within you, you move against me, writhing sensuously. I stroke you with one hand, focusing on your sensitive breasts, admiring how your body instinctively jerks and twists against me, rolling to my back you that your gentle, constantly-shifting weight presses me further into the mattress. I fondle you, wondering how you feel with your body so full, the anal plug slightly larger and definitely more solid and weighty than the beads. I wonder if you can feel how hard I have become, or if you are so focused on the triple penetration and the incessant buzzing within you that you are oblivious to everything else.
