Kendra at the Next Level
Author's Note: This story builds on "Kendra Fulfills Some Fantasies," but these stories aren't intended to be chapters in a continuous narrative. Rather, they're intended as more or less stand-alone vignettes, featuring the same cast of characters but with their own story arc. If you like this one, by all means go back and read the previous Kendra and Kev story if you haven't already -- and if you also like rough non-con
sex, my Theo stories. Check out "A Slave in Steel" for more on T'Jalla. But you don't need to ferret them out in order to understand this one.
It was a leisurely Saturday, early evening. I was relaxing in front of an old sitcom on Netflix -- I can't tell you which one. It was pretty forgettable, and anyway I wasn't paying a lot of attention to it. My mind kept wandering back to what was waiting for me when it was over. I was just killing a bit of time to draw out the experience.
Since Netflix doesn't show any commercials, the original half-hour show was over in about twenty-three minutes. I felt that was plenty of time to leave Kendra alone, considering her current situation.
I put my empty chip bowl in the kitchen sink and walked downstairs. I came into the downstairs spare room, and there was Kendra, just as I had left her. She looked up at me and said, "Mmmm," which I interpreted as meaning something like, "Hi Kev, I'm glad you're finally here." She couldn't have said much more than that since her mouth was blocked by a wide red leather panel gag with a built-in stuffer. Aside from the gag, she was wearing -- for now -- nothing but a lacey black bra and matching panties. They nicely set off the light brown skin that resulted from her biracial heritage.
She was strapped firmly at the wrists, elbows, knees and ankles in a bondage frame that kept her immobilized on her hands and knees. The device had a wide padded collar that encircled her neck and prevented her from moving her body forward or back, her long, tight black braids hanging almost to the floor. About all she could have done would have been to wiggle her ass a bit, but even that was prevented. We had the frame's optional dildo holder installed, and it was currently holding an enormous butt stretcher firmly in her anus, the panties pulled aside to let it in.
The stretcher wasn't the usual butt plug, shaped like an elongated turnip with a narrow snapback to be held in place by the wearer's sphincter. Rather, it was a cone that expanded along its entire twenty-five-centimetre length from a narrow insertable tip to a fearsome ten-centimetre diameter. The dildo holder had a small crank that allowed the user to push whatever it was holding as far up as they desired, and right now it was holding all but the last few centimetres of the cone up Kendra's asshole, which was stretched tightly around it.
Normally I would never have dared to push something that extreme into someone wearing a gag, but we had experimented with the stretcher beforehand, ungagged so she could report on what she was feeling, and I knew exactly how much she could take and still experience pleasure rather than pure pain. I had even drawn a circle around the cone with a Sharpie to indicate the "no-go" line, which had not yet quite been reached during the current session. It would be a long-term goal for Kendra to be able to take the cone past that line.
We had agreed to change up our usual routine by having a long, drawn-out bondage session for a change, which was why I had left her by herself to stew for a while. Knowing that she would get pretty bored, I had left my laptop open in front of her, playing a video that featured extreme bondage sex. I doubted that she would require any additional inspiration, being already a confirmed bondage slut, but I knew it would pass the time.
I could tell by the way she squirmed on the stretcher cone, and also by the "Mmpphs" that were coming from behind the gag, that she was horny as hell from having been left with her ass over-stimulated and no way to reach her pussy to do anything about it. I don't believe in pushing edging very far -- just far enough to ramp up the orgasm when we get to it. I took her at her word that she wanted a really long session this time, so I didn't release her, and with the dildo holder in the way there was no very good way to get my cock into her pussy, but I knew that she didn't need it to get off.
I knelt down and pushed more of the panty material aside, reached under her and slid two fingers into her soaking-wet pussy, curling them to press against the front wall of her vagina where her G-spot was hiding. The stretcher was creating such a big bulge in her rectum that I had to use quite a bit of force to get my fingers in, but she didn't seem to mind. She just made what sounded like a grateful "Mmmmm" as I slid them slowly in and out and circled my thumb on her clit. I paused occasionally to massage her labia, then slid my fingers back in and started moving them more vigorously in and out. Her hands clenched into fists and she started thrashing a tiny distance forwards and back, the collar preventing her from moving any farther. If it hadn't been heavily padded, she would have ended up with painful bruises around her collarbone, but as it was, she was able to use it as a welcome source of resistance as her orgasm grew rapidly, punctuated by increasingly loud "Mmpphs" as I picked up speed. It wasn't long before the "Mmpphs" merged into a prolonged "MMMGGGGHHHH" as her orgasm swept over her entire body and she went totally rigid in the frame.
That was enough for now. Despite the discomfort of my rock-hard cock, I didn't want to use up the scene all at once, so I withdrew my fingers and let the panties slip back in place over her well-used pussy. I wiped my fingers off on a towel, but I didn't wash them -- I wanted to be able to enjoy the musky scent of female arousal that clung to them like the most erotic perfume ever invented.
I started a new porn video and began to head upstairs for a beer and another installment of my sitcom. As I left, I gave the crank another turn, forcing an additional couple of centimetres of stretcher into her and spreading her sphincter by another centimetre or so. She grunted loudly at the additional tension, but she didn't make any pain sounds, and I hadn't gone past the no-go line, so I knew she would be all right as I headed up the stairs.
**
Taking the story back a little: after we had been dating for a few months, with each date ending in a session of glorious bondage sex, we decided together that Kendra would give notice on her tiny apartment and move in with me. I wasn't sure I could handle that much mind-blowing kinky sex, but after a few weeks we settled into a more reasonable schedule of two or three times a week, the other nights filled with equally blissful but less exhausting snuggles.
We spent some time with our "starter set" of bondage equipment as recommended by T'Jalla, the helpful sales rep at our local sex shop, but after a while we decided to change it up, especially as we were spending a lot more time together. We decided to go shopping as a couple, thinking that it would be exciting to compare notes on kinky stuff together, and also that this would ensure that we bought things we both liked.
Owing to the pandemic, we wore masks as we waited outside in our physically distanced lineup waiting in the cold of a Canadian winter to get in -- stores were limited to fifteen percent capacity to make distancing easier. We had toyed with the idea of Kendra wearing a gag under her mask, thinking that it would be a thrill for her to be gagged in public without anyone knowing. But we ultimately rejected the idea, realizing that it would make it impossible to compare notes and chat about the equipment we were looking at, which was the whole point of the couple trip. We compromised on her wearing a butt plug during the visit to add a discreet dose of extra kink. To keep her company, I had one up my ass too. I've never been much for anal myself, as a recipient I mean, but watching how great Kendra found it, I was beginning to come around. Maybe in a while I'll let her peg me one day. But not for a while: Kendra is the anal slut in this relationship, and I'm very much a novice.
We searched out T'Jalla and waited a discreet two metres away while she finished with her current customer. When she finished and turned to help us, I saw that her black cloth mask had an appropriate picture: a kneeling woman, naked, bound and gagged. Not something you'd wear to the grocery store, I thought, but perfect for here.
"Kendra, it's great to see you again," she said immediately -- despite the mask, T'Jalla had obviously gotten very good at recognizing the tops halves of faces, and Kendra's long begemmed braids hanging below her winter tuque must have really narrowed down the possibilities. She wasn't as certain with me, whom she'd met only once, pre-pandemic and without the mask. "Is this Kev? I think I remember working with you on some beginner equipment a few months ago."
"That's right," I replied. "And Kendra here is the person I've been using it with. It's a great selection of equipment. We're an item now, and we're back for some not-so-starter products. Can you show us what you think would be interesting in terms of restraints, gags, anal and vaginal penetration, that sort of thing?" After being with Kendra for a while, I had lost any shyness I might once have had regarding discussing sex and bondage.
Kendra added, "I'm still not much interested in pain, so you can skip that section, but show me some interesting restraints."
T'Jalla remembered that we already had leather handcuffs, a stuff gag, spreadeagle straps, and a spreader bar, so she asked some questions. "Kendra, how's that stuff gag working for you?"
"I love it. It really keeps the bubbles in the champagne, and you're right, it's comfortable enough to wear for a long time. Doesn't make my jaw hurt like a regular ball gag. But I think I'm ready for something stricter."
"Penis gag?"