Lost in Orgasms

Baby Sid waits in latex that clings like a second skin. You bind her wrists above her head, feed a fat ball gag between her teeth, then go to work. Clothespins bite down her breasts in tight, mean rows. A leather flogger kisses her thighs, her ass, the soft mound she keeps pushing forward. Every strike makes the clothespins dance, makes her cry out around the gag. When the clamps finally come off she screams into rubber and the scream melts into a wet, desperate moan. You finger-fuck her through the first orgasm, then push a thick toy inside and grind it against her clit until her knees buckle and another climax rips through her. She drips down her thighs, eyes glassy, hips jerking for more. You don’t stop. Another round with the flogger, another wave of pain, another gagged howl that turns into helpless, shuddering pleasure. She’s slick, shaking, and still begging for the next hit, the next orgasm, lost in the loop of hurt and release you keep feeding her.