"Shake that ass for us bitch," Master John commands and strikes your tight butt with a cane. The creak of their outfits, the tap of dress shoes and fetish boots on the floor, and devious whispering are the only clues to their plans. Lubricant flows onto the device torturing you as you try to listen to your doms. The weighted chain swings, tugging on your clamped nipples. The tension in your shoulders forces you to lean forward, pressing your clit into the wedge you're riding. There is the sound of an electric winch again, and your arms are pulled up into strappado. Your heart skips a beat when you realize your heels, the last piece of normal clothing you were wearing, are gone.ĭelicate hands grab your cuffed wrists and you hear a carabiner clip to the chain. There is nothing you can do to take your weight off the edge in your cunt, and it is already starting to ache. Wordlessly, your master and mistress tie your ankles so that your feet are close to your cute butt. And with a whimper, you feel your toes leave the ground As the torture device presses into your most tender part, you instinctively stand on tiptoe. You hear a jack being pumped, and feel the dull blade rise. They move your lips to either side of the edge, ensuring it will split your slit. The pointed edge teasingly caresses your moistening nethers.Īir hisses from your mouth when his rough fingers touch your pussy. From their slopping nature, you can tell you are walking over a wooden horse.
Now keep walking." As if you have a choice with your nipple leash.