His other hand began fingering me forcefully, slapping at my clit, roughly shoving his fingers inside me. However, I was so overwhelmed with the sensation of the mat that I could barely feel him touching me. My body had downgraded the rough treatment my pussy was getting as unimportant in the face of the weight of my body on the spikes, every breath digging deeper in. He clocked my meager response to his touching, laughed and said, "Not enough? I'm not surprised, a little pain slut like you. You want to go, well, let's go."
With that, he began forcing his hand deeper in me. Suddenly, my body became VERY aware of the treatment my cunt was receiving. Already soaked, already open, already ready. I saw the tension in his shoulder as he shoved his way into me, just a few short thrusts before his entire hand popped in, and then slid up past his wrist. Without giving me time to acclimate, to breathe, to adjust, he began pumping his hand in and out, twisting his arm as he went, making the only thing in my brain the absolute overload of sensation.
As he pistoned in and out, my body had no choice but to respond to the movement. My hips moved on their own accord, lifting and writhing, my torso jumping with my ragged breath. Which normally would not be a problem, but normally I am not laying on a bed of thousands of spikes. Every tiny movement, every breath transformed directly into the pain pushing in on all sides. I had never felt so much FEELING before. I was only my body, and nothing else. I was only feeling, only sensation. Nothing else existed, except the pleasure, except the pain.
He began squeezing my leg hard, fingers digging into the trigger points along my outer thigh where he knows it hurts the most. Already overwhelmed with sensation of the mat and the pounding fisting in my cunt, I barely reacted to his ministrations. He slapped my leg again, hard and sharp, and I lifted my head his direction, looking into his face, but not really seeing. He looked at me almost clinically, almost detached, then placed his hand directly over my sternum, and then leaned his weight over me and pushed down.
The added force of his body on mine, the spikes digging in even deeper than I thought they could go. The squirming as I tried to move translating into those piercing spikes dragging though my skin. His hand, still fisting me viciously, pumping in and out, twisting roughly against my inner walls. Everything in my vision and mind was black and red; I was completely there while not being there at all. I exploded in orgasm, soaking his forearm, soaking the sheet beneath my cunt.
My cries sounded like a scream, and I began nonsensical begging - 'please, please, please.' Begging for it to keep going, begging for it to stop. I whipped my arms together in front of my face, trying to block out any sight, any sound, removing any excess stimulation so I could handle feeling all of this. The sensation of the skin on my shoulders and upper back feeling like they were being torn from the sudden movement of my arms, but unable to think clearly to make a different choice. He continued to fuck me with his whole arm, bracing - then with the power of his whole shoulder, his whole torso. The weight of his body on mine, forcing me down onto the spikes more forcefully with every thrust, every involuntary movement of my body in response becoming more pain, more pleasure, more sensation - just more, more, more.
After several minutes, and several more orgasms, he slowed, leaving me gasping. He slid his soaking fist out of my sore cunt, dripping on the floor as he exited. I struggled to breathe, as my brain began to tune in again to the world. As I began to register the pain in my body, I called out, and he offered his drenched arm to grab and I heaved myself off the spikes, crumpling to the floor. I lay there, panting, feeling my body coming back to the here and now, slowing my breath, feeling the heat coming off my back like the blast of a furnace. He returned from washing up, and examined my back. Deep red, riddled with thousands of indents, and speckled with tiny scratches and pricks of blood.
Collapsed on the floor, heat radiating off me, he petted my head gently. After several moments, I looked up, with a smile of pure pleasure on my face. He looked down at me again, laughing, leaned down and kissed me on the tip of my nose - saying "Happy Valentine's Day."