My wrists are secured in ropes, arms pinned to my sides and fastened to the ceiling beam. My legs are spread, ankles tied to floor rings so I can’t close them. An anal plug sits thick and heavy inside me, stretching my shithole without mercy. A wand vibrator is being pressed directly against my clit.
Master sits at the table eating his sandwich. He watches me while my hips jerk and my pussy spasms around nothing. The vibrator hums on its lowest setting, just enough to keep me on the edge without pushing me over. Every few minutes he reaches over and clicks the remote up one notch until eventually the first orgasm rips through me without warning, sudden and sharp. My cunt clenches hard, juices dripping down my spread thighs. I moan, loud and broken.
He doesn’t stop eating. He just watches the wet spot grow on the floor beneath me.
Another click. The vibrations intensify. My clit throbs, swollen and oversensitive. The second orgasm hits faster, my whole body seizing. I scream this time. My hips buck wildly, trying to escape the relentless buzzing, but there’s nowhere to go. The anal plug shifts inside me with every spasm, pressing against the thin wall between my holes.
I beg for him to turn it off, to give me just the smallest reprieve, but he ignores me. The third orgasm builds before the second fully fades. My clit feels raw, every pulse of the vibrator like an electric shock straight into my nerves. My pussy gushes again, a fresh flood running down my legs. My vision blurs. I’m babbling now, begging, promising anything if he’ll just give me a break. He ignores every word.
When his plate is empty, he reaches for the half-full glass bottle of ice-cold coke on the table. He drains the last few swallows, then stands and walks over to me. He presses the rounded base against my entrance, and I flinch. He doesn’t give me time to adjust. He pushes.
The bottle is wider than any cock I’ve had. My pussy resists for a second, then yields with a wet sound. I cry out, the sensation alien and overwhelming. It’s not warm, not soft, not alive. It’s just hard and practically splitting me open. He works it deeper, hitting a sensitive spot inside me. My cunt flutters around it, trying to adjust.
He starts fucking me with it until the neck is almost disappearing, then pulls it back until only the rim catches at my entrance. Each thrust forces a wet, squelching sound from my soaked cunt. My walls clench involuntarily, trying to grip the smooth surface, but there’s no give.
He leaves the anal plug in. Every time he drives the bottle deep, the plug shifts too. The stretch is almost too much. My clit is still buzzing, the vibrator still in place, and another orgasm crashes over me before I can brace for it. My pussy spasms around the glass, trying to push it out, but Master just pushes it back in harder.
I’m sobbing and begging him to just give me a break, but he doesn’t answer. He just keeps fucking me with the bottle, watching me while my cunt convulses around something that has no business being inside me. My thighs are soaked. The vibrator hasn’t stopped.
Another orgasm builds, cruel and inevitable, and I know he’s not stopping until he’s decided I’ve had enough.
