Cumming and Crying

Charlie Forde walks in already wrecked, but Eli Cross straps her wrists and ankles to cold metal pipes anyway. Leather bites into her skin while he swings a slab of wood, then the cane, then the crop across her body until every impact makes her breath hitch. Weighted clamps drag on her nipples, tugging each time she flinches, and Eli keeps beating until she is gasping and glassy-eyed. The vibe hits her clit next. She jerks against the pipes and sprays hard, cunt pulsing, thighs shaking. Eli doesn’t slow down. He bends her over the pipe frame and goes after her ass with his hand, the flogger, then the thick leather strap. Each slap lands louder than the last until her cheeks glow red and tears spill down her face. She hates the sting, but she pushes back for more. The lead-filled trucker’s beater comes out. It lands with a heavy, brutal thud that knocks the air from her lungs. Charlie sobs through the pain, wet and desperate, while Eli swaps the beater for The Slink. He sinks the long toy into her ass, clicks the Hitachi on, and she cums again—loud, messy, knees buckling. Finally he lays her on her back, cinches the straps tight, and picks up the cane once more. Pink lines stripe her ass as she twists and strains, unable to roll away. Eli spreads her cunt with clamps, stuffs a fat dildo into her ass, and presses the vibrator to her swollen clit. She comes so hard her mind blanks, the week forgotten, body strung out and trembling under his hands.