The Fucking Machine

Orlando straps Princess Donna Dolore down tight. Black hair spills across her face while he buckles leather around her wrists and ankles. She tests the restraints. Metal and straps hold. He lines the fucking machine between her spread thighs and starts it with a low mechanical hum. Slow at first. She breathes sharp when the dildo slides in. He cranks the speed higher. Each thrust hits harder, rougher. Her body jolts against the bondage. Sweat beads on her skin. Orlando stands back, watches her struggle. He reaches in, grabs, twists, adds sting to the stretch. Her moans cut short. The machine never tires. It pounds steady while she strains, caught between pleasure and pain, and he keeps the pace just out of her control.