Symon & Michelle: Endurance

She broke the kiss, leaning back, resting her hands on his knees. She cocked her head, looking at him, daring him to fulfill his promise. He let his hands slide, down her shoulders, across her breasts, dragging the nipple cages with him. She didn't flinch. He nodded, slightly, and set about undoing the leather strap and the chained clamps that held the cages out. She supported her breasts with her hands, and he slowly undid the tension, easing her nipples inward before reaching in to unclamp them. Then she did flinch. She groaned, loud, cursed, as the blood flowed back in, as her flesh snapped back, but not quite completely in place.

Symon leaned down, holding up her tits in his hands, and sucked her nipples. He pressed both breasts together, and they were large enough that he could get both nipples in his mouth at the same time. He licked them, then opened his mouth wide and sucked them hard. Michelle leaned into him, groaning in pleasure, groaning loud, as her pussy flooded and clenched and left a wet spot on his jeans. He sucked, harder and she wrapped one hand around his head and pushed his mouth onto her more deeply.

He dropped one breast, holding the tip in his hand and massaging it with his palm, while he used his tongue to pull more of the tip of her other breast into his mouth. Sucking, sucking hard, then using the tip of his tongue to flick her abused nipple that was so sensitive his tongue felt like the best kind of sandpaper. Michelle's fingers dug into Symon's neck as she pulled him harder onto her, as her hips bucked and she ground her equally sensitive clit on his fly. Just when she was about to cum, Symon switched to her other breast, suckling there until it was equally red and wet. She climaxed on his lap, panting, swearing, and begging him to do more. More like that. More to hurt her. More that put all her nerves in overdrive. That blurred her already fuzzy line between pleasure and pain.

He disengaged from her breasts, found her mouth, and kissed her for a long time. She settled down on him, relaxing into him. She kissed down his neck, ran her palms through the hair on his chest, across his nipples. She started to reach for his crotch, to unzip his fly, but he caught her hands.

"Not yet, greedy cunt."

He gestured for her to get off his lap, to sit with her back to him on the ottoman. He twisted her hair up, and caught it in a loose clip on the top of her head. Then he quickly affixed a long leather cuff to her forearms. Her hands crossed behind her so that one wrist met the opposite elbow, and the cuff held her arms close together.

He checked the tension, that it was tight enough but not too tight, and the undid her hair so it cascaded down her back again. Then he wound a big section around his wrist, and used it to direct her to stand up. He walked her over to the bed, and helped her lay down on her back, spreading her hair out, so it wasn't caught under her.

As she arranged herself in the middle of the bed, he pulled out an expandable spreader bar and a length of rope. He saw the understanding in her eyes as he fastened the cuffs around her ankles, then started twisting the bar. He twisted the middle section to lengthen it, and kept going past his usual spread, until the bar reached its maximum length. Until her legs were far past shoulder width apart, and her sex was lewdly displayed and completely open to him. She looked at him impassively, knowing there was no point in asking him questions. Her job was to lay there and acquiesce, to go along whatever ride he had planned. Until she rebelled. Because she knew he was looking for that too.

Symon took the length of rope and looped it around the middle of the spreader bar. He stood and tossed the other end around a hook in the ceiling. There were plenty of those around the room as well. He pulled the rope down, raising the bar and therefore, raising Michelle's feet until her legs were high off the bed, and she was bent at the waist almost ninety degrees. He tied the rope off to itself, securing her in place. He ran his hands down the inside of her legs, and swatted her vulva again.

He had one more adjustment to make, and went to the thermostat in the corner, increasing the temperature by several degrees. Then he pulled one of the dining chairs over toward the bed, and set the pitcher on the chair where Michelle could see. He picked up a bottle of lube and one last item before he sat down at the edge of the bed, near her hips.

He shoved a small piece of ginger in her ass, feeling her clench around it and watching her eyes widen. Then he reached over to the pitcher and pulled out the first thing he wanted. It was a glass butt plug, one of those girly looking ones with a flower carved into the end. She looked at him with narrowed eyes, as he smeared lube all over it. He touched the tip to her stomach and she flinched.

"Ooh," she said, trying to inch away from it. "It's freezing."

"Not quite. I was careful about how cold the water was."

"How long was it in there?"

He shrugged. "Long enough."

He reached around, stroking her vulva with the tip of the chilly plug, as she rocked her hips up and down. He squirted more lube onto her ass, then started to twist the plug, tapping it against her hole.

"Oh, god," she said. "I don't know. I don't know about this."

He placed the plug on her mound, letting it sit there.

"Look at me," he commanded.

She met his eyes, saw the hardness in his expression. She started to close her eyes.

"No. Look at me."

When she did look at him again, he said, "You know how to get out of this."

She nodded. "Yes, I know."

"Tell me."

She shook her head slightly, "I know."

"Say it out loud, Michelle."

It was his calling her by her name that caught her. She narrowed her eyes, measuring his expression. Usually when they were down in the basement, when they played like this, she didn't have a name. Neither of them did, really. There was hardly ever a need. It's not like there was a question as to who either of them was talking to. But she, especially, didn't have a real name. If he called her a name, if he wanted her attention, he call her 'cunt', or some variation of slut, or something starting with the word 'cum'. But mostly 'cunt'. She didn't mind; she expected it, it was part of the routine, and the word had become like his term of endearment for her.

So, when he said her actual name, she knew he wasn't playing, this wasn't part of the test, he really wanted to make sure that in this situation, under these circumstances, she knew what would get him to stop.

She took a deep breath. "Albatross, Cardinal, Finch, Bluejay."

"And what do those mean, specifically, Michelle?"

"Finch to slow down or ease up. Cardinal to stop for a moment. Bluejay to start up again, or go harder. Albatross to stop completely, to end the scene."

He nodded, reached down and pushed the plug into her ass in one swift move. She grunted, absorbing the cold shock, rolling her hips, shivering as the icy sensation moved through her whole body. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes, still shuddering with cold and the sudden intrusion into her ass. It was a point of pride for her that she'd never quit a scene, that she'd never uttered 'Albatross'. She'd needed him to slow down plenty of times. She'd needed a pause, and he always respected that. She was sure that if she did ever, need him to quit, he would.

She opened her eyes again, staring at the ceiling, breathing in and out, settling into the coldness and the heat from the ginger. Settling into the discomfort of her legs in the air, her thighs stretched out, her arms locked into the small of her back. She wriggled her fingers and toes, rolled her hands and feet. She sighed deeply, a long suffering noise that might have been funny in other circumstances. She felt his gaze on her. She could always feel when Symon watched her. She stilled her breathing and her movement, noting the heat of his body where he sat near her hips. The angle of the mattress depressed by his weight. She heard the heat pump kick on, and now a warm breeze flowed over her from the vent near the wall.

She lifted her head to look at Symon, and he sat there impassively, waiting for her to settle, plotting his next move. Gauging what it would take to keep her on edge, to keep her from drifting away and just accepting. He needed her to resist him, in a way. He slowed his own breathing, calmed his own heart, played out the next section. He tapped the butt plug, it was still chilly, but felt warmer just from being out of the water, absorbing her heat.

When he had her attention, he reached over and pulled out the other item from the pitcher. Her gaze followed his hand, and her eyes narrowed as he reached in. Then they widened, and widened more, and her eyebrows shot up and her mouth gapped open as he withdrew the item.

"Christ," she exclaimed. "What is that?"

His heart jumped, profanity from her was a good sign. Not that she abjured cursing in general, far from it. But when her vocabulary condensed to several creative combinations of swear words, that's when Symon knew he was on to something.

He held the thing up, so she could see it glinting in the light. So she could watch the water drip off of it, and watch him shift it from one hand to the other as its temperature stung. It was nothing really, just the second biggest glass dildo the store had on offer.

He grinned. She swore again, under her breath.

He didn't wait, didn't want it to lose one degree of its temperature. She was already soaking wet, he knew, plus he'd squirted enough lube around. He put the tip to her vulva, spreading her lips, pushing it in an inch.

Michelle bucked her hips up, bending her knees, and Symon put a hand on her abdomen, pushing down. He shoved in another half inch, and she rocked the other way.

"Oh." She yelled. "Fuck." He heard her sharp inhale, and didn't move the dildo again until she stopped thrashing.

She leaned up, glaring at him.

Before she could say anything, he said, "The guy at the store recommended this one. It's not the biggest one they have, it's the second biggest."

"How," she panted. "Big?"

"Nine and a half inches long. I forget the exact circumference, but, bigger than a beer bottle, I'd say."

He twisted it slightly, worked another half inch into her.

"Jesus. I can't."

"You will, or you'll tell me to stop."

He twisted and pushed, and another almost inch slid in.

"It's so cold. Good god. Cold."

He didn't answer. He pushed and twisted again, and another section slipped into her. There were bumps and ridges in the glass, a couple of lines of colored glass that he supposed were meant to resemble veins. He backed the dildo out a little bit, and added another dollop of lube to it. He'd put a towel under her butt, to catch any leakage, so he wasn't worried about messing up the sheets. He listened to Michelle breathing, and timed another good shove to her inhale.

She twitched and shivered under him. He leaned close to her legs, his hand still on her abdomen, and gave a few rapid pulses of the massive dildo, out and then back in. Out and then back in deeper. She shook her head and bit her lip. She shook her head and grunted. She banged her head into the mattress and swore again. With each of her movements, Symon pressed more of the glass into her. Deeper, inexorably, making her feel every icy inch.

He let go, shook out his hand, laughing silently at his own discomfort with the cold on his hand.

"Hey, guess what, cunt," he said cheerfully. "This fake cock is halfway inside you."

Symon sat at her hips, the massive glass dildo in his left hand, and his right firmly on her pelvis. His palm pressed just above her mons as he pushed the icy monster farther and father into her. Michelle tilted her head up to watch, glaring, her eyes narrowed and shooting daggers at him. When she laid her head back on the mattress Symon started narrating for her.

"Look at this," he said sweetly. "Your pussy is stretching so far around this. Your lips are getting caught on the bumps, even though I covered it in lube. Here, let me."

He paused his monologue just long enough to shift his hand, and tug, not so gently, at the edges of her lips. He pulled them apart as he twisted the dildo again, pushing in another inch or so.

"Oh, that's better." Symon kept an eye on Michelle, who raised her head up to glare at him again, and then let it thump back down on the mattress.

"God," Symon added. "What a greedy cunt you've got, sucking this thing right in. I always suspected you were really a size slut."

Michelle would beg to disagree, but she was still coherent enough to worry about what might come out of her mouth. The cold and the hardness of this glass dildo was unlike anything she'd experienced before. It was an almost alien feeling. She felt every fraction of an inch as Symon shoved the thing deeper into her. She felt herself stretching around it, past uncomfortable, her vaginal muscles straining somehow, and then giving in. She heard herself groan, then realized Symon was still talking.

She managed to focus on his voice for a little while. He talked about the store where he found these horrific things. That the man behind the counter told him how much he enjoyed playing with them. That the man said his submissive loved the glass butt plug better than any other one. Symon described the instructions he'd been given for the temperature play. That he'd thought about putting the dildo in hot water while the butt plug stayed in the ice water.

As Michelle's brain registered Symon's words, he was saying, "Wouldn't that be interesting?"

His voice is so cheerful, so nonchalant as he inexorably shoved this thing, this iceberg, this fucking icepick deeper and deeper into Michelle's straining body. He twisted it, moving in and out slowly, but always, always pushing deeper. His hand still lightly on her pelvis, his shoulder sometimes resting on her outstretched leg. Pushing, and pushing, and pushing. And talking, and talking, and talking.

She raised her head to look at him again. He watched her face, grinning at the barely concealed fury in her eyes, daring her to thrash against him, or claim her ticket out. She refused to give him that satisfaction. Then the dildo moved again, another inch or so disappearing into her. Another press of Symon's hand on her mons, the tug of his fingers to release her lips.

He said, "Wow, your lips are really getting cold. I can almost feel the cold inside you." He turns his palm, so his fingers point at her belly, he presses down.

"Isn't this amazing? Isn't thermodynamics so interesting? Your body is almost a hundred degrees Fahrenheit, and this dildo was probably about thirty five degrees Fahrenheit, and now they're conver--"

"Shut up!" Michelle screamed, her sense of self control cracking. "Fucking shut up. Oh my fucking God. Do you ever fucking shut up? Thermodynamics? No one fucking cares about thermo-fucking-dynamics."

She started banging her head, backwards on the mattress, each word getting an emphasizing knock. "My fucking god. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Fucking shut up."

She tilted her head back as far as she can, her eyes closed, but grinding into the mattress. Symon kept pushing the dildo, further and further in, even as Michelle continued yelling at him.

"Jesus Christ. Fucking Jesus H Christ. Just fucking shut up. Shut up. Shut up."

He pushed hard on the dildo, and the last inch entered her. He turned his palm and pressed the heel of his hand on the end of the dildo, holding it completely inside Michelle as she continued to rant. She shook her head, her shoulders trembled, and he saw the tears welling up. She repeated the phrase "fucking shut up" about a dozen times, and started running out of steam.

He pressed the heel of his hand into the dildo end, just slightly, and Michelle let out an exasperated groan. Then she muttered softly to herself, more quietly than he could make out. He stared at her with a mix of admiration, lust and evil triumph.

"That's my girl. There's my pain slut," he says, too softly for her to hear him.

Michelle's head was still tilted back, trying to shut him out. She cursed herself for falling in love with him. She cursed her physiology, or psychology or whatever that made her crave most of what he did to her. She cursed her psyche that made her put up with the parts she didn't crave, because she knew those are a package deal with the parts she did. Her eyes were tightly closed, her hands balled into fists underneath her. Her feet were pointed, toes clamped together in the cuffs suspending her legs.

It occurred to her that the dildo wasn't moving anymore. Her vaginal muscles were still clamping around it. The cold seemed to have seeped into her bones. She found twenty five new ways to call him a bastard in her head. But she took a deep breath, the spasm of hate having withered away. Her heart rate slowed down, and she opened her eyes.

She moved her head to look at him, and gasped, her heart skipped a beat again. His expression was love and lust and self-satisfaction and that hard edge that tells her the night is really just getting started. They stared at each other for a long moment.

He tapped the dildo with one finger. "It's all inside you. The whole fucking thing." He grinned.

Then his weight shifted again slightly. Michelle heard a telltale hum, and her eyes widened.

Symon said, "Mmm, hmm. Now the fun really begins." He cackled, then put the bulb of the Hitachi at the edge of the dildo. The vibrations rattled the length of the still cold glass, and affected the butt plug. Both were rumbling, and Michelle felt the vibrations throughout her whole body.

She groaned again, loudly. "No. No. Nonononononononono." She shook her head violently and Symon adjusted the intensity up a couple of notches. She gasped, grunted, and arched her back as the relentless stimulation tricked her into an orgasm. And then another. And a third, before she had time to breathe.

Symon shifted the vibrator again, pressing her pussy lips more firmly onto the dildo, pushing her clit down onto the glass, and then moving the bulb of the Hitachi so it touched her clit. He pressed in, hard, ramping up the pace and giving her no ability to move away. She rocked her hips side to side and then pressed her butt down into the mattress. He followed her with the vibrator, one hand still on her pelvis.

She was gasping and panting, moaning and cursing him softly. He looked at her feet, flexing and arching, her toes clenching and then spreading wide, rolling the in cuffs. Her head was twisting and rolling in the same way. He watched her, fascinated, almost clinical, as her mouth opened and closed rhythmically, but no actual words escaped. Her torso shuddered, her shoulders shook, her eyes rolled in their sockets. He loved this side of her. He loved pulling out this completely oblivious, animal side of her. He loved knowing that he knew how to do it, and that when he succeeds she stays wanton and horny for days afterward.

Symon had more plans. More ideas that mix pleasure and pain and that will force loss of control. He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds she made, his hand resting lightly on her pelvis, feeling the contractions as yet another orgasm worked its way through her.

He let go of the dildo, and it started to slide out of her. He slowed the vibrator down, giving her a temporary reprieve. She shuddered again, moaned softly, and opened her eyes. But she stared at the ceiling, too exhausted to move. She felt the glass falling out, and then Symon's hand pulling it the rest of the way. The cold emptiness hurt, her body ached suddenly to be filled again. She blinked hard, feeling dizzy, even though she was still lying on her back.

Symon moved off the bed. It's time for his next plan. He took the dildo and put it in the bathroom sink, then returned to the bed. He stood at the foot of the bed, and reached down to grab Michelle's upper thighs, near her hips. He pulled on her, sliding her down so that her feet are closer to her shoulders than her hips, bent at the waist past ninety degrees. He picked up the other Hitachi, that already has a rope wrapped around the handle and threw the end of the rope over the spreader bar which suspended Michelle's legs. He adjusted the length so that the bulb of the vibrator rested on her pussy, with gravity itself holding it on her clit. He tied off that rope, and added another loop around her thighs, so that if she bucked her hips or bent her knees, the vibrator would stay in position.