#MasturbationMonday – Into the STOCKS #BDSM

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Hello and welcome to the Monday with slightly more zing in it. Well, a lot more zing in it, if I’m honest. You’re here. We have stocks, whips and chains. A bit of tea tree oil, too, so what more do you want? Happy December…

Masturbation Monday

A heavy black blindfold covered her eyes. It was tight to her face and not even a chink of light escaped to filter inside its dark folds. That was sight taken care of. Trying to feel for her ankles, she moved them to and fro, finding that movement was restricted to around half an inch. Rotating them around, she felt a thick circle imprisoning each, but they were at least a metre apart, so her legs were spread wide and her sex exposed. Wriggling her hands, fingers and trying to move her neck, she found them all enclosed in a similar fashion. The thick collar had been removed because she could flex her neck. Both knees and the backs of her feet were on the floor, pressed into what felt like grass. So, that meant she was probably outside and in a set of stocks, similar to the ones she had seen in the dungeon. Her back was at a 90 degree angle to the floor and for the umpteenth time that day she felt lust,  intense and intoxicating, course though her. What was it about being restrained and peeled open that incited such longing within her body? She felt like an over ripe peach, about to burst open with the delicious taste of late summer. Trying not to think about the growing state of her arousal, she decided to be grateful that Spartacus had omitted to paint her nether regions.

When Mark had finished his masterpiece, he stood behind her and surveyed his work of art with pride. She was stunningly beautiful. Her deliciously pink ass cheeks quivered as she fought to control the prickle of the oil seeping into her skin. Her sex was prominently on display and glistening like the sun’s reflection on a calm, deep blue ocean. Her whole body gleamed like a freshwater pearl.

He mused that the life of a submissive would not suit her, but there was no question that it set her on fire. If she was left here for too long, it was quite possible that one of the trainers would break her. He’d seen it happen. Losing the ability to talk and your free will, proved exceptionally hard for some, and he had a feeling she’d be one of them. She’d been spoilt and coddled to such a degree that this little interlude would mess with her head. If he was honest, he felt a tiny bit sorry for her. Yes, she was a little horror and could do with being put in her place, but there were other ways to go about it. He made a mental note to try and keep her sane whilst she was here. Usually he only made it up to the stables a couple of days a week, but a few minutes with her on those days would be enough, he hoped. Seeing such spirit broken would be a travesty of justice. Redcliff was an utter devil for sending his daughter here. What was the old guy thinking? Finally, containing his thoughts for the moment, he decided to stand back and allow the games to begin, whispering, ‘Courage,’ in her ear before he silently slipped into the crowd. It was all the encouragement they needed. A torrent of raining hands poured down upon her from every angle.

Jenny was immediately swamped with sensation. Some of the hands applying themselves to her tacky skin were gentle and offered smooth, soft strokes with the tips of their fingers. Others, by contrast, were unbearably indelicate, tweaking the tender skin of her nipples and kneading her breasts with unnecessary force. Emboldened fingers forced their way past her lips and slipped inside her mouth, fingernails traced patterns all over her inscribed flesh and there were plenty of pinches, nips and squeezes upon the twin, reddened globes of her ass. The fingers weren’t in the least bit shy. They delved and dived everywhere. They reached under the leather straps of her harness and bridle, rubbing and caressing her oiled skin. Sometimes one, but more often two, plunged inside her pussy and when they pulled out, there were a queue of others waiting to take their place. Sliding down the fold of her ass cheeks, others skated along the slick surface and twirled themselves around the plug embedded in her ass, pumping it up and down rhythmically to some age-old priapic beat. In the space of a few seconds her body was as hungry as the proverbial wolf, dressed in his woolly sheep outfit.

That wasn’t the worst of it. The acidic oil was now being worked into every nook and cranny that the fingers could find entrance to. Mark hadn’t needed to apply it to her sex, he had known that these people would do his work for him in half the time. It was being worked into her lips, mouth, pasted along her tongue, trailed down her labia and being diligently thrust inside her core at every opportunity. The effect was a slow and all-encompassing agony as the caustic liquid performed its magic. Jenny had started to wriggle and writhe like a woman possessed. She couldn’t keep her ass still. Unable to stop herself making lewd, gyrating gestures with her backside, which was swishing to and fro with erratic abandon, she could only pray to be doused in a large bath of ice water. That was how bad the burning sensation had become. Her mouth was filled with scalding heat, her sex was on fire, the tender skin around the butt plug burned and her ass screamed for relief.

‘Eeese op,’ she screamed through the bit.

The fingers abruptly stopped what they were doing and she was rewarded with a sharp slap to her behind. The pain took her breath away.

‘Ponies do not talk,’ said a crackling, raspy voice which must have belonged to an old lady.

‘Ever,’ said another, male, virile one and she was given an even heavier slap. Jenny choked around the bit.

‘Look at that fancy locket she’s wearing,’ a young female voice giggled.

‘Where is her tail?’ another voice asked.

There were a few titters and Jenny felt the chain wrenched from her neck. A moment later she felt the chain being hung and retied over the back of her plug, the locket dangling between her thighs. As she continued to buck her hips to and fro, it swung wildly from side to side.

‘Prettiest tail I’ve ever seen,’ said an older man.

‘Pretty filly for that matter,’ said the elderly lady. ‘She’s going to be in demand. Just look at that hip action!’

‘Is it time to let the pony-boys loose?’ asked an amused male voice.

‘Go on, Dusty,’ said the elderly lady. ‘Do your thing.’

Jenny didn’t think she wanted to know what Dusty’s ‘thing’ was. She heard the sound of tiny, tinkling bells before something pressed itself into her wriggling backside. What on earth? Then there was a long stroke up the inside of her thigh, but not with fingers. It was something soft, something wet. Oh, no. A face was pressed into her behind and it was a tongue licking at her. He administered tiny little licks, flicks and swirls as he made his way up her left thigh, stopping tantalisingly shy of her pussy lips. He then began to repeat the process on the other side, again stopping just before he reached the promised zone. Jenny’s hip-swaying was increasing in intensity. There were more laughs from the crowd.

‘Should we let Dusty have a little suck?’ the elderly lady said.

The crowd sniggered. Jenny could tell by the volume of the gathering that more people had come to watch her predicament. Her cheeks flooded the deepest crimson and then, all thought fled as Dusty began to do as his owner had bid. His warm, velvety tongue began to thrust inside her, transferring yet more of the tea-tree oil mixture. Jenny’s body began to leak the tell-tale evidence of her arousal in response. He lapped it up neatly, before it could slip down her legs. His tongue danced on her pussy, teasing each little crevice and fold into fullness. When his tongue found her clit and started to lap her up like a chocolate-fudge ice-cream sundae, it was nearly her undoing. She wanted to arch her neck as pleasure began to spiral through her, wanted to push her backside out and grind it into his face, wanted to scream at him to press his tongue into her a little bit harder and all she could actually manage was a mewl of frustration.

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Need more naughtiness? Try these delicious little snippets for more tasty treats!

 

1. Megan Michaels 2. Jaye Peaches
3. Normandie Alleman – Handcuffed, Spanked, & Forced 4. Do You Think of Me?
5. Double Agony 6. Touching My Body

3 thoughts on “#MasturbationMonday – Into the STOCKS #BDSM

  1. Reblogged this on Domine T and commented:
    You’ve had an exceprt of one of mine, now for an exceprt of Chris Mandara’s. I must say, the BDSM elements in her stories do have an appeal to me.

    ~T~

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