Oxygen

Ariel X found herself a new playmate who likes to hurt her while they fuck. She grins when she talks about him. I wrap the leather collar around her throat and she starts twitching. Nervous energy floods through her. Once the straps bite down and the gas mask clicks into place, her breath turns ragged. Panic flares behind the glass. I drop flat and crawl toward her with the cattle prod charged high. She can't see the blow coming. The jolt hits and her body snaps. She tries to suck air through the hose but my palm clamps it shut. Her chest heaves, fighting nothing. Sweat beads at her hairline while her eyes stretch wide. I hit her again. Her lungs drag the mask tighter against her face. Her neck swells against the collar like meat stuffed in skin. I keep going until the thought sneaks in: what if I never lift my hand? She watches me through the mask and I swear she catches it too. I yank my palm away and slam the prod into her inner thigh. She convulses, dragging air like a drowning woman. I watch her for a second longer, then shove the vibrator deep and strap it there. Pain turns to sound, raw and wet. Her breathing slows, thickens. She stops fighting the straps and starts chasing the edge. Every new shock now feeds straight into the throb between her legs. She jerks and shudders, eyes glassy, gone somewhere past fear.