1. Playful Puppy


    Date: 7/8/2015, Categories: BDSM, Author: Kiss34, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    bl**d in my mouth. His hand on my elbow steadied me. I thanked him in a breathy whisper. Impulsively, wanting to please, I begged him for the other. And screamed with the pain once both my nipples were clamped. Clenching my jaw, I rocked and moaned my way through red waves of sensation. The metal teeth were efficient and very tight. It was agony. Not the exquisite pleasure of pain that Master usually gave me. No. Those clamps were discipline and the hurt was horrific and not sexual at all. I was on my knees then; unsure of how I got there. Gasping and panting, with my wrists behind my back, the tension between the two clips was unbearable. I tried in vain to bring my shoulders forward and ease my suffering. His calm words and sure hands soothed me through the worst of it. Calling me his bitch, his whore, his pain slut, stoking the flames of my devotion until I accepted his correction. Rubbing my face against his familiar thighs, I felt the slick plastic on my cheek instead of his jeans. My thank-you was high and breathy, and sincere. Sweet god, I love when he hurts me beyond what I think I can bear. Back on my feet, I stayed bent slightly at the waist. It eased the ache some. Master would have none of it though, and chastised me about my posture. When I stood straight; trembling and sweating, He tugged slightly with the leash and invited me to shake my tail outside. Hissing and whimpering, I took a few tentative steps. One foot in front of the other, that was all I could ...
    think… step, step. Not the tearing at my nipples or the burn in my shoulders. I didn't think about the humiliation of standing in the backyard with a flogger shoved up my ass and a leash attached to my pussy and that hot, nasty bag over my face. I could not think of anything except obeying Master with one foot in front of the other. Worshiping him with my obedience. His hands f***ed me to my knees, and grasping my hips, he made me move forward until there was a tension on the leash. The other end had to be attached to something. No matter how I held my head, I couldn't see what that was. The grass itched under my knees. I was vaguely aware that my nipples had adjusted to their particular torture if itchy grass had my attention. &#034Open.&#034 And then more insistent, &#034Open.&#034 Confused at first, I opened my mouth wide. The thin whip slid across my tongue. I licked and kissed the leather. And then it sliced like a razor across my ass. There was nowhere to go and no way to resist. The leash jerked back each time I moved. It held me as surely as an umbilical cord while Master laid his stripes on me with a maddening thoroughness. He had the patience of an artist. Each brush stroke was a searing thread leaving a delicate line of bl**d red. He ruthlessly prepared his canvas; moving up my back in increments until he reached my shoulders. My arms and hands were indiscriminately marked as well. In the end, he would break me. Then, from raw flesh Master would create a beautiful work ...
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