A special toy, for a special kind of torture.
With many thanks to softprincessdenied.bdsmlr.com, although I can’t find a link to the original story now.
All chapters of this story can be found here.
I hung my purse on the hook, which itself was attached to the only wall made of post and beams in the house. The rest were two-foot thick adobe.
A memory filtered through my brain. A text, one of earliest I had sent him: Do you have a space where my screams won’t be investigated?
I blushed, remembering it. He had answered in the affirmative, of course. The mud walls absorbed all the sound I could throw at them.
I felt the presence of him behind me; his energy prickled along my skin.
“I made some changes to your code.”
“You what?” I spun around, my eyes wide. Oh, hell no. I had enough trouble at work with men messing with my work, assuming — stupidly — that just because I had tits that I couldn’t be trusted to write decent code.
A feline grin spread across his face. “Don’t worry, I made it better.”
I struggled to keep my voice even. “How did you ‘make it better?’”
“Come and see.” He wrapped his hand around my wrist and pulled me into the front room.
The sybian was set up on the floor, restraints spread from the four attachment points. I looked at it, and looked up at him, and frowned. It looked exactly the same.
“Get on.” The Cheshire smile still smoldered on his lips.
I felt my eyes go soft, looking at the curve of those lips. Heat flushed up my cheeks, as I imagined him dragging them across my ribs and down to my needy pussy.
This man was impossibly distracting.
“What have you done?” My voice was breathier than I would have liked.
He brought his mouth to graze the side of my neck, as he reached around the back of my dress to unzip it. “Get on, and you’ll find out.” My dress puddled on the floor.
I shivered under his delicate touch. “Does the… the algorithm still work… correctly?”
I was so close already. Damn him.
“Get. On.” His voice held that knife-edge of threat, as he unhooked my bra and pulled off my panties.
“But…” I whined.
His fingers wrapped around the back of my neck, not-so-gently guiding me over to the machine. “You don’t listen very well, do you?”
No, no I did not. He was right about that.
I let him push me down to my knees, so that I straddled the sybian, the bumpy attachments settled into their respective places between my legs, yet still. “Should I unhook my garters? Where are the pulse leads going to attach?”
He busied himself attaching the cuffs around my ankles. “I told you, I made it better. And I want the stockings on for tonight.”
“You said you made the code better.” I pulled at the restraints, because… well, isn’t that what you do?
He pulled my wrists behind my back and bound them together with the other set of cuffs. “Is that what I said?”
I looked up at him. And granted, that was more of an effort than I was comfortable admitting to myself. From his low-slung jeans to his button-down shirt — the top artfully unbuttoned, of course — to the perfectly disheveled curls falling across his forehead, the man looked delectable. I wanted to rub my cheek against the stubble that lined his jaw, and run my tongue over those soft lips.
And that wasn’t nearly the only place I wanted to put my mouth.
The man looked fine.
And suddenly, I had no idea what he had said earlier.
What had he said? Something about the code. …Wasn’t it?
He took out his phone and started typing. The machine buzzed to life.
It started out hopelessly soft, teasing. The motor gradually built up intensity, and it took my body along with it. Up and down, again and again, until I was panting on the edge of orgasm. I could feel the flutter of my inner muscles, and I closed my eyes, anxious for the crash of my climax.
And then it stopped.
The only sound in the room was my ragged breathing, as I felt the promise of orgasm fade.
He had seated himself opposite me, his head resting in the crook of his palm. That intoxicating smile was still spread across his face.
I whined as the machine started up again. The ache in my core blossomed.
I was already so close.
I knew there were questions I should be asking, I was sure of it, somewhere deep in my brain. But as the AI took me on another wave of pleasure and denial, and another, and another, those questions floated further and further out of my reach.
I remembered dimly that there used to be sensors.
…Attached to my thighs, maybe?
As the algorithm wound me tighter, more desperate, it was so hard to remember. So hard to think.
“Stop trying to think,” he said, as if it could see my internal conflict.
I blinked. He made it sound so easy.
He leaned back and spread his legs. I knew the movement was calculated, but it still made my mouth water.
“Please,” I begged, as the vibrations began to ramp up again. “Please, let me suck you. I want you in my mouth.” My tone was thready.
“Mmm.” Noncommital.
I bowed my spine as much as his restraints would allow, just to have the delicious sensations dim and vanish. I screamed my frustration. “Please…”
He worked the end of his belt, slowly, slowly, through the buckle. Every small noise of it seemed magnified to my ears. The clicks and slips made my cunt clench involuntarily, and I nearly cried as the motor geared down. I ground myself against it, helplessly, watching him. Any moment now, he was going to unhook the button on those jeans and slide them down his hips.
The machine increased its teasing, gently — tentatively — as if seeing how close it could get me. A eager little sound escaped my lips.
I needed his cock in my mouth. “Please,” I asked, trying and failing to keep my voice even. “Please.”
He stood up and walked toward me, and I held my breath. I couldn’t move, so I could only watch his lascivious swagger as he closed the distance between us. He still held the ends of his undone belt.
He stepped just close enough that I could press my lips against the bulge of his cock through the rough denim.
Fucking tease.
I looked up at him, held on the edge of my orgasm by this damned machine, watching him grin down at me. I opened my mouth and dragged my tongue over him. “Please. Please fuck my mouth.”
“Hmm.” Again, infuriatingly noncommittal.
He took a step back, and pulled his belt completely off. As he looped it back on itself, I had fractions of a second to contemplate how exposed my body was to him.
I felt my eyes go wide and my breath shallow.
The first stroke landed on the top of my breasts, leaving a stinging pink stripe across my chest. I moaned and clenched my pussy. I should have been surprised that the algorithm did not react accordingly, but any hope of critical thinking was squashed by his next stroke.
And then they came in rapid fire sequence, back and forth against my breasts until my skin was pink, and then red. I should have noticed the machine was still screaming me toward orgasm.
I should have noticed.
But my mind was so fuzzy, it was so hard to think. I was drowning in pain and pleasure.
“I love when you push your tits out to meet the belt. So eager to be abused.” There was a note of laughter in his voice, something lyrical, but the base was low with his own dark excitement.
I had a moment of lucidity, and I recognized the curve of my spine. He was right; I was offering my beaten breasts for more pain. I blushed and moaned. Fuck, I was so close.
The next stroke landed brutally across my hard nipples, and every thought in my brain evaporated. Time slowed to a crawl, as white hot pain erupted through my body. Faintly, I registered the tell-tale pulse of my cunt. The feeling was so primal, so deep and practiced that I couldn’t ignore it.
I was going to cum.
He broke my goddamned code.
I felt my mouth drop open, but he took a step back, still with that smile playing on his lips.
My pussy contracted once more, twice… and then an agonizing pain exploded between my legs, stealing my breath and any hope of coherent thought. It felt like searing lines of fire through my clit and up through the dildo impaled inside me.
I could hear some sort of sound, and then I realized it was my own scream.
My hips jumped and the restraints creaked as I desperately tried to escape this scathing, cruel torture of my most sensitive places.
I don’t know how long it went on; time lost its meaning. I felt my body submit to the pain. It was pitiless, inescapable. There was nothing I could do. I was trapped, and my mind leaned into this new, agonizing reality. Lines of fire licked their way up my nerve endings, burning through any semblance of thought.
It took me moment to realize when it had stopped; in fact, the machine lay totally still. My breath was ragged, afraid. He reached to push a piece of hair behind my ear, and I recoiled as far as the cuffs allowed me.
I felt empty, broken. Adrenaline scraped along my veins.
“I didn’t break your code. I made it better,” he said. His voice was soft, almost soothing.
Icy tendrils of fear wound themselves around my lungs. “What… what have you done?”
He shrugged. “Couple of e-stim inserts.”
Electricity. I shivered.
He dragged his finger along the line of my jaw and captured my chin against his palm, so I was forced to look up at him. “Now, every time you get close, you’re going to get a little shock.” His grin widened.
I felt my eyes go very round. A little shock?
“That was at about 30%,” he said, threading his belt back around his waist and rearranging his collar. “Now, I’m going to go meet this new chick at the bar. You can stay here and… explore… your new toy.”
“You’re leaving me here?” I said, uncomprehending. He couldn’t just leave me here.
He smiled, and it was that patronizing expression that liquefied my insides. “Don’t worry, I’ll get a notification every time you get to the edge.” He showed me his phone, for effect. “Fuck, she’s going to think I’m so popular.”
If I had been thinking clearly, I could have rolled my eyes. But trapped against this infernal machine, I couldn’t swallow past my own fear.
He laid a perfect, soft kiss to my lips.
“Plus I set the camera up to catch all of your begging and screaming,” he said. “And if you’re good, I might bring her home later so you can eat my cum from her pussy.” He ran his fingers through my hair, and squeezed. “You can give her that orgasm that you’ve being trained to fear.”
I heard the door close behind him, and the sybian’s motor vibrated to life.
Parallel tracks of pleasure and terror raced through my mind, as I sat there, totally restrained and helpless.
Two foot thick walls.
I was so fucked.
Photo by Dollar Gill on Unsplash