Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Enjoying having your pussy used?” my master asks, and I nod for him.
“Yes. Please, don’t make it stop. Please.”
“Anything but,” he replies, and clears his throat. “Position her ankles,” he says. “Legs up, in the swing position. Let’s have that pretty little cunt spread.”
I moan in protest as the fingers leave my pussy. I need the sensation. I need to be filled.
Strong hands raise me higher, chains jangling as they’re unclipped from my ankle cuffs. Fresh jangles sound from overhead, and my legs are spread wide, chains jangling afresh as each ankle is hung high, positioning me in a spread swing of chains, with my pussy exposed wide.
Yes. This is perfect. I want to be fucked. Stretched. Ploughed. I’m ready for it. I’ll take every dick they can give me.
Oh, how I curse in protest as my master pinches the very top of my left inner thigh, my head lolling back as he pierces more unsuspecting flesh. Holy shit. He’s on sensitive terrain here, laddering my sensitive skin with more needles. Two more lines of metal thorns, one on each thigh, and my tears run freely down my cheeks under my thick fabric hood.
I must look like a butchered pincushion, trembling but willing as I accept my fate. Tensing my muscles only makes it hurt more, so I let myself hang limp in my bonds, accepting every sliver of pain.
This is what being a true hardcorer is.
This is what being a true pain slut is.
This is me.
Every single needle is stinging, a choir of evil thorns when Master is done with my thighs. My tits are such a mess of sensations, I don’t even know what’s what anymore. All I know is they hurt. They really fucking hurt.
But it’s so fucking good, it’s insane.
I’m grinning like mad under my hood, tears still rolling.
“Time to give you a reward,” Master says, and I feel the head of a cock against my sopping slit. The head is nice and thick. Meaty.
That’s what I need.
Meat.
It is one hell of a reward when he slams his big, thick cock right the way inside me. The way I’m hung makes the bounce against his dick fierce and the needles in my thighs feel like they’re on fire. I cry out again as he keeps on fucking me, plunging hard.
Other people’s fingers trail up and down my wounds as he fucks me. Hands test my tits, squeezing until I curse and squeal.
“Take it, slut!” Master barks, and I feel him tense up as he unloads, smacking into me, grunting with every thrust.
I’m grinning in delirium under my hood as my pussy drips with Master’s cum. So proud.
And that’s just the beginning.
The founders take it in turns. A whole host of cocks plunging in my used cunt, one after the other. Hands grip and twist and flick and play with my pin-cushioned body, and I beg for more.
I want more.
The high before the fall is always intoxicating.
My adrenaline is crazily fired up, sending me off the charts of insanity. I’m trembling like a mad thing, but my pussy embraces everything. Every slam and plunge. Every thick round of cum left inside me until I’m nothing but a squelching mess.
I beg and whine for them to let me come myself, my clit still on hyper alert, but they don’t give me that. They only pleasure themselves.
“You’ve done so well,” Master tells me, stepping up between my spread legs after another full load. “You’re so full, you filthy little slut.” I groan at the teasing trail of another pointed needle. “Now, let’s make a true piece of art and seal it in. Do you hear that, Holly? I’m going to seal that cum deep inside you.”
My ears ring as I try to digest his words, but cognition has no place here. Only feeling.
I cry fresh tears as he pinches one of my pussy lips in his fingers. I can’t help but tense up, quaking as he stabs the needle through. But it’s only one of many…
My fucking God, it hurts like fucking hell. It feels like my skull is cracking open and my soul is floating free.
“Six in each side,” he says as he works.
He spears me six times through each pussy lip, and I’m on the ridge of pure terror when he rubs his thumb against my throbbing clit.
“And one for good luck. Are you ready for it?”
My breaths are frenzied.
Can I do this?
I can barely breathe, never mind answer him.
“Relax,” he says, and I hear so many breaths around me. So many spectators watching my master as he works so gently, raising my pleasure through the pain. “Relax and breathe, Holly. Just breathe now.”
I do as I’m told. My cries soften and my body loosens in the shackles as I give myself over.
I focus on the bliss of my needy clit being worked by a master, slippery from all the cum I’ve taken. His thumb is so skilled. Slow but forceful.