Her current situation was quite precarious. She found herself bent over a spanking bench, tethered in place by clamps and chains. At her ankles and wrists, cuffs were chained to O-rings in the dark floorboards, limiting her range of motion. The pain, however, was centered much higher up, in her nipples, which were strung with a pair of clamps and a small connecting chain. The real problem being that the clamps were attached to a much larger chain that went down to the floor in front of her and connected with another O-ring. Chained as she was, she could not climb forward over the bench and to move backward meant torture on her already hypersensitive peaks.
Behind her came a sultry, honey-coated voice that sent shivers straight down her spine and to her core. "What are you going to do?" There was a pause that seemed to float through the room to caress each of her already excited nerve-endings. "It seems that you're trapped, baby girl. Laid bare for all of my most cruel intentions."
He did not wait for her response. "Here is how today is going to play out. You, my dear, are inextricably chained to that red bench. If you'd like to try to escape, be my guest, but I suspect that it will hurt you dearly." A large hand swept appreciatively across the exposed skin of her ass, and a rumble issued from the depths of his throat. "If you decide to stay and play, I will be here to guide you. As always," he continued in his most authoritative tone, "you have safe words. If you need them, please use them."
She couldn't see over her shoulder because to move her body even a centimeter meant tugging on the clamps at her breasts, and the pain was growing the longer her body suffered under the pressure. The electrical pings that pulsed through her flesh seemed to travel straight down between her legs, making her moisture flow. She moaned when her master slowly slid a long finger between her folds and rubbed. "You're already very happy to be here, I see." She could hear the smirk in his voice at these words. "So responsive, my little one. I love that you soak yourself just at hearing my voice."
She felt the bench shift underneath an added weight. Her peripheral vision told her that it was a man who was now seated beside her, someone all too familiar. He greeted her with a sharp slap to her ass and a devious grin. "Hello, gorgeous."
Her master's voice was a smirk and she heard his boots echoing across the floor as he paced away from her. "My sweet, naughty little one. Shall we tell Ryden what you wrote about him in your lascivious little journal?"
She squeaked at the feel of someone tugging quickly but roughly on the clamps attached to her battered pink peaks. "Oh."
"Oh?" her master cooed. "Oh well, let's read a passage for him and let him decide where your mind has been at, little slut." He paused to clear his throat and then she heard pages turning—presumably the pages of said journal.
"'I dream of his best friend Ryden sharing our bed, fucking me roughly down into the mattress. His beautiful body dominates me with its size, and I'm overcome by the passion of his movements. He thrusts slow, deep and hard, and I cannot breathe. There are moments where I'm able to look into his brilliant brown eyes and I see the world that he holds back; I see his soul.'" The smirk on her master's lips is obvious. "You want Ryden to fuck you hard, huh?"
Seated beside her, Ryden was now rubbing the tips of his fingers gently over her folds, barely touching her skin. The result sent electrical shocks racing across her sex and she felt her toes curling at his touch. She mewled. "I'd say that's a yes," he laughed.
Her master's voice was a proud chuckle. "I would agree. Well, who am I to disappoint my little one? If she wants your cock, then your cock she shall have."
Ryden's calloused fingertips paused above her clitoris, and he moved with a torturous slowness as he pressed the pad of his fat thumb down onto her most sensitive bud. He circled once at that painfully languid pace and then leaned over and pressed his bearded face to her exposed backside. He set a delicate kiss onto her right cheek. "Such a naughty little thing," he chastised her in his smooth, rich baritone. "Do you think dirty things about my cock?"
"Yes, sir," she cooed and tried to move her hips to force more contact with his thumb.
"Do you sit up late at night writing dirty things about me in your journal?" he whispered as he pressed another kiss onto her flesh. "Do you go to sleep dreaming of being fucked by my cock?"
"Yes, sir," she cooed again, growing more moist with each of his questions. Her body felt like it was on fire, overcome by the myriad sensations that she was being forced to undergo—from his caresses to her clit to the clamps still dangling painfully from her nipples.
She was utterly shocked when he spanked her roughly, her body jumping forward and causing the clamps to jiggle and tug harshly at her very sensitive breasts. She screamed, and this greatly pleased her master. "Are you sore already, my little pet?"
Unable to speak as she lost herself in all of the synapses that were firing across her flesh, she merely mewled like an injured feline. Her master's voice was a Cheshire cat grin prancing through the room. "Tell our guest how it feels, baby. Use your words."
"It's a sharp burning and throbbing that pulsates straight to my pussy," she explained to the silent man seated beside her.
"And when someone shakes the chains?" her master inquired as he leaned around her and did just this.
She bit her lip to stifle a cry. "It adds pressure that tugs so painfully, and it hurts. Sparks shoot down my spine and straight to my core. It hurts so bad, sir."
