They untied me and flipped me over on the metal table, then tied me down again. This made the studs on the breast harness and pussy spreader sharply dig into me, but I moaned and whimpered and wriggled my bottom, trying to grind my pussy against the table. I felt a sharp slap on my bottom.
“Now now. No fun until I say,” said Bloomfeld. His fingers reached down between my spread legs until they felt my pussy, separated harshly by the leather studded straps, with the middle one pushing into me. He stroked the lips.
“Lacey, put clover clamps on the lips.”
I felt her fingers on me then, and the cold metal clamps snapped shut, and I shrieked and my fingers stretched out, scratching at the cold metal table’s edge. Bloomfeld laughed and slapped my bottom again.
“Does that hurt, little slut?”
“Yes sir,” I moaned, “Yes but it’s good.”
“Good. Now you watch me and Lacey have some fun.”
He bent Lacey over the edge of the nearby counter, and I turned my head and watched, pressing my hips against the table and trying to arch so I could push against my clit. I watched him fuck Lacey, then set her aside and come back to me, chest heaving.
“You wanted that, didn’t you?”
I sobbed. “Yes sir, I did. Please.”
He smacked my bottom again. “I have something special for you, then.”
They untied me and lifted me from the table, linking my wrist cuffs overhead to a trapeze bar. They fitted another bar to my ankles, spreading my legs apart, then lifted the bar overhead until I was a foot or more off the floor. Lacey attached the bottom bar to a hook in the floor. They removed the center strap from the pussy spreader, but left the spreader on. Lacey took out the vibrators and the dildo. Bloomfeld walked around me, stroking my body. He started playing with his cock.
“I need you to make me hard again, slut.”
“Yes sir, I will, please…”
He stood for a moment, looking at me. He cinched in the waist belt another notch, then yet another, until I gasped. He added weights to each end of the elongated barbells that went through my nipples. With Lacey’s help, they pulled on the lips of my pussy until they came out further on each side of the studded leather straps. Bloomfeld managed to pull them even tighter, digging into my crotch. I wriggled. He hit the lift switch on the top trapeze bar, lifting my arms overhead a few more inches, but since the bottom bar was attached to the floor, I was stretched very, very tightly. It was hard to breathe. He stroked my belly.
“I love a flat stomach,” he said, moving his mouth against mine as he said this. He kissed me.
Clover clamps went on the edges of my pussy’s lips, then weights were added so the clamps dug in even more. More clamps of some kind went on the flesh that poked between the straps on either side of my clit.
“No clamp for your clit this time, slut.”
They pulled a stand over and set it beneath me, but Bloomfeld showed it to me first, as usual. A fat, long vibrator, slightly curved. I yearned for it to be inside me. He smiled.
“Your little pussy is wide open,” he said. He rubbed the end of the vibrator gently against my clit, and I pressed against it. He laughed. “What a whore. Are you a whore?”
“Yes sir yes, I am, please sir, please, put it in me, please!” I begged.
He laughed. “If you can reach this vibrator with your little pussy, whore, you can have it in you, as many times as you want.”
“Yes sir, yes, please sir please, please.”
“But, there’s one little catch. Or, several little catches.” He chuckled, amused. He lifted something off the stand.
“When you push down on this? You’ll be pressing your pussy against – this.” He fitted the vibrator into a nest of sharp metal prongs of various heights. He locked the end of the vibrator on the stand, moved it forward a little until it snuggled up against my skin. I could feel the smooth end of the vibrator, jiggling softly, waiting for me, but around it were the sharp spikes and prongs. He laughed. “Don’t you want this in you any more? I thought you would fuck anything.” He laughed again. He moved my hips until I felt the tip of the vibrator just inside my pussy. I longed for it. I wanted it in me more than almost anything. He laughed again. He walked around behind me, watching.
I pushed against the vibrator a little. I only needed some of it in me to cum, just to feel a part of it, just enough of it, I wanted it, I needed it in me so bad, so bad. I pushed down a little. One of the sharp metal prongs flicked the tip of my clit. I pulled back a little.
Bloomfeld was behind me with a small whip. He struck me across the bottom with it.
“Fuck it, whore.”
I tried again, wiggling a little. Three of the highest metal prongs now poked very gently against my clit, on each side of it. I pictured them, slightly pushing in the skin that was spread apart by the leather straps. I wriggled a little and felt the tip of the vibrator inside me, just a little. Lacey moved in front of me. She looked solemn, watching me, my pussy, watching my struggle. I moaned.
“I don’t want to hear that,” hissed Bloomfeld. I felt a cloth gag slide between my teeth and lips, pulled tight. “Now try again. Push down.”
I gritted my teeth against the cloth. It was hard to breathe, I was pulled so tightly by the trapeze bars. I struggled, tired. I tried to push down on the vibrator a little, but felt the sharp metal against my clit and on each side of it again. I lifted off a little. I was desperate to fuck it.
Bloomfeld smacked my bottom again and again with the whip. Lacey had another small whip, and she flicked it against my nipples, making the clamps jounce, the weights tugging. I shivered and had an orgasm.
“Not that way!” shouted Bloomfeld. He exchanged his whip for a thin cane that bent and flexed easily when it swished it through the air in front of me, showing me. “Push down on it, whore! I said push down!” He walked behind me, and I felt the cane’s tip sliding up and down, slowly, first on the inside of one leg, then the other, and I had tears of frustration. I pushed again against the vibrator, needing it so bad. But I felt the metal, three prongs pushing against my clit and the skin again, two more that were a little shorter now poking against my pussy’s lips. I shuddered.
“Lacey.” She nodded and put clamps on my breasts, on the insides of my legs, more on my pussy lips, with small chains hanging down, and weights at the end. Bloomfeld swished those back and forth with the tip of his cane, then came up to me, whispering in my ear, one of his hands grabbing my hair and pulling my head back.
“Now listen to me, slut. Your uncle says you’ll fuck anything. I want to see it. I want to see you scream out in pain because you can’t resist getting fucked. You want that, don’t you?”
I nodded as best I could.
The end of his cane stroked my nipples, then thwacked them. I jerked. “Good. I want you to have pain. I want you to be punished. Bad little whores who open up their pussies for everybody should be punished, shouldn’t they?” I nodded again. He smacked my breasts and nipples several times with the cane until they stung, but incredibly, I was so hot, I could have fucked a room full of people. I wriggled back against the vibrator’s end again.
“Good. That’s more like it. Show me how much you can take. I want you to show me just how eager your pussy is to be fucked.” I nodded again and wriggled some more, aching for the vibrator, for anything, to be in me. I struggled a few minutes while Lacey and Bloomfeld watched. Now and then, he would run the cane up and down the insides of my legs. Twice, when I was exhausted and hung from the trapeze bar, he knelt and poked the tip of the cane inside my pussy until I was eager again. He adjusted the stand that the vibrator was clamped to so that it moved up a very little, rising up above the spikes very slightly. He clinically pushed the tip of the vibrator inside of me again.
“Try it again. Or don’t you want to be fucked? Lacey, I don’t think she wants it.”
I shook my head and tried again. Lacey stroked the insides of my legs with her hands at one point, until I whimpered against the cloth. Bloomfeld flicked the cane against my bottom a few times, and I pushed away from it, and onto the vibrator.
I struggled and took more of it inside me, eager, desperate. Metal prongs prodded my skin. The two medium length ones now pushed sharply against my pussy again. I felt three more, maybe four, the shorter ones, digging into my pussy. I moaned and twisted, but pulled back a little. I felt Bloomfeld’s hand smack my bottom several times until it stung, but I love being spanked.
He stood behind me and put his hands to my front, pressing his nails into the ends of my nipples. I struggled against the trapeze bar.
“No you don’t, little whore. You wanted to be fucked. You’ll keep working at this until I say you can stop. Show me you want it. You want to be fucked, don’t you?”
I nodded vigorously.
“I don’t believe it.” He dug his nails viciously into my nipples and I shuddered, moaning, my head moving back and forth. “She says she wants it, Lacey, but I don’t think she does.” He moved to the front and unclamped the stand, pulled it out of the way. He flicked his cane, sharply smacking the insides of my stretched open pussy, again and again, then the insides of my thighs, now on my clit, until I felt my head buzzing and the blood pounding in my clit, roaring in my ears, wanting it, wanting it, wanting it inside me, anything inside me, to fuck me, to use me like a whore while they watched.
He stepped back, moved the stand into place again. He raised it very slightly again and settled me on the tip of the vibrator. He stood behind me again and put his hands around to my front. One hand was on a nipple, twisting it, its clamp moving back and forth. The other hand reached down to my front.
“Now. Let me feel that vibrator slide into your pussy. I know you want it in you.” I nodded. He kissed my neck. “Good. Push down.”
I tried again, pushing down, felt the metal prongs, stopped briefly. He twisted my other nipple, pulling it out a little, and I moaned and leaned my head back so my nipple would fit into his hand better. He laughed. I pushed down a little more.
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