Toys, Toys and More Toys

"I'm going to beat your naked, slutty arse with this." He showed me a broad leather strap. "And I'm going to keep going till you can take no more and then give you more." He started slashing into my behind. "You're a worthless, slutty, low down whore. What are you?" I left the dildo.

"Yes, Master, I'm a worthless, slutty, low down whore." I swallowed it once more. The strapping was forcing me to move this way and that, the lower dildo aggressively rubbing against my sweet spot and the nipple weights rocking left and right sending incredible sensations through me.

"You're a filthy piece of rotten meat, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am a filthy piece of rotten meat." Having to repeat the insults each time as an admission was very degrading but was having a strangely erotic effect.

"Who is your Master?"

"You are my Master."

The strapping slowed with a less energetic pace in control but then a series of six heavy slashes bit into me and then they stopped. He gently removed first one nipple clamp and then the other. I longed for him to squeeze the life back into them but he didn't instead he attached another pair but across the other angle: side to side and not under and over as before. These weights were heavier than the first. I don't know what he did but they started to gently vibrate and then the pattern of vibrations changed and I later found out he was using some form of remote control. By this time I'd been strung up quite a while and Harry released my ankles first and then one by one, my arms and he had to almost catch me as my knees buckled but that wasn't going to stop him: more, much more was to come.

He supported me for a few moments while I recovered my senses. I do believe that his hardman veneer cracked for a moment as he looked at me with a question in his eyes... 'You okay?' it seemed to say. I knew that I had to respond.

"Thank you, Master. That was beautiful and well deserved." The veneer sealed over once more.

"Kneel."

"Yes Master." I knelt and gazed up into his eyes. He un-poppered his overalls and, naked beneath revealed his long, fat, hard cock.

"You know what to do."

Oh my God, it was such a beautiful sight and, it is always a tense moment as disappointment is easier to find than the joy that was now in prospect for me. His overalls were quickly kicked away and now my second wish, that of being naked with Harry was a reality. Just as he had made me squeal with pain and delight so I fully intended to return the favour in a most generous and terribly greedy way. I started by using my long wet tongue to moisten the tip, then the shaft, then, dipping underneath I took each of his swollen, heavy balls into my mouth and suckled them before moving back up the shaft, opening my mouth and taking him wholemeal inside. He must have read my mind because his hands gripped my head and he started face-fucking me as though he'd not cum for years.

"That's it slag, take the whole damn thing. It's all you're good for and don't think for one moment that just because I'm going to squirt bucket loads inside and all over your head in a few minutes that you're going to get away without being used again." His fucking became yet more aggressive. "I can cum any number of times with the right whore and you, my little cum bucket, are going to get whatever I want to deliver. Got it?" I muttered my response through my cock-filled mouth. My mind was racing with the thought that he really was in charge and he really did want to fuck me but it was against the rules but, how could I resist? In any case, I'd broken the rules so many times by now that it was a bit of an arbitrary question. As his thrusting became more rapid, so did his breathing and the insults. He was deep in my throat now but withdrew almost completely then thrust home again. It was this action that now took over. "Get ready to taste the best seed in town, far better than a slut like you deserves. Far better than you're worth... AAAAGGGGGGHHHHH" His eruption started slowly at first but then there began a stirrup pump of semen in my throat, my mouth then over my face, in my eyes, then back into my mouth thrusting for all he was worth. I was loving every bit of it and knew that he'd let... or rather, make me lick it up. He pulled out.

"Open wide."

I lowered my head, opened my mouth and watched in bare face delight as he massaged the last squirt out of him and into me and then continued with the driplets and the droplets, falling into my open mouth. He stopped.

"Clean me."

I took him back into my mouth and licked out the last traces of his efforts. "Now lick the rest up."

"With pleasure Master." I scooped it up with my fingers and, not losing eye contact for a solitary second, wiped it into my mouth in a slowly repeated m movement till I had swallowed every drop.

He stood up and looked down at me.

"Hands on head." I obeyed and his lithe body disappeared from view only to return a few moments later with two glasses of water. "Here, drink this."

"Thank you Master." It's funny how thirsty one does get during these sessions and, given Harry's approach to cp it was a real change of tempo but it wasn't to last long because as soon as I had finished the water he snapped back into character.

"Come here slut." I got up and faced him. "Wrists." I was still wearing the cuffs from the upright session and he led me by them across the room to a heavy wooden frame. He raised each arm in turn and attached me to some chains so that I was stretched as though on a cross. Then he attached a spreader bar between my ankles so now, spreadeagled and fully on display. He fitted different nipple clamps to each in turn and then inserted something inside me. It started to vibrate.

"I'm going to beat your backside BITCH." I was amazed to see that his cock was already getting hard again. He produced a three foot long wooden baton with which he started to beat me and beat me hard. I was squealing but the vibrations going on inside me seemed to be randomly changing through a series of different pulse rhythms and it was heavenly. He started much more gently on my inner thighs but then, after extracting little response from me, upped the ante and beat them hard as well. I have to admit that it was a challenging level of pain but I could feel myself getting close to orgasm and I was visibly writhing. The vibrations were that good.

"You... yer filthy bitch will only cum when I say so: Got it?" The vibrations stopped but only just in time.

"Yes Master." He exchanged the nipple clamps for some with even heavier weights.

"Your first caning happens here." I said nothing. "WELL?" he boomed

"Thank you Master." He picked up a medium rattan cane tapped his distance and, well, you know Harry by now, wasted no time in slicing me six times. Not too hard but a great start. Another cane, slightly heavier and twelve were gifted to me in rapid succession. He came round to my front and gripped my chin forcing me to look up at him.

"A caning from me is so much more than a slut like you deserves. You should be left to the junior set, the wankers and the boys just starting out. So you'll thank me again later and, bitch, you'll do whatever I say."

He changed the clamps once more. Then took up a medium malacca cane, tapped his distance and gave me eighteen strokes, nearly full force. Suspended as I was I was able to take them and felt slightly peeved that I wasn't bent over. "Two more canings to follow." I was slightly unsure if I could manage them but said nothing. He removed the spreader bar then released my cuffs.

Once again he had to support me slightly but this time with him being naked as well I acted up a bit so as to be closer for longer.

I gripped his solid cock as he led me over to a spanking bench which was like a low vaulting horse but with knee and arm supports and gaps in between. He laid me on it prostate and then fastened my arms and calves so I couldn't move. I heard him go to the umbrella stand of canes and he brought two over to me.

"Eighteen in total, twelve with the first, six with the last. Which one first bitch?" I studied them. A senior Rattan cane and a slightly heavier than medium Malacca.

"The Malacca first please Master."

"This, my slutty whore, is going to hurt. And you deserve it don't you?"

"Yes Master, I deserve a thorough caning."

"I won't take any notice but how hard do you think your caning should be?"

"It should be hard, Master. Very hard."

"You want a hard caning."

"I need a hard caning Master and only from you."

"Grit your teeth slut." I took him at his word and looked ahead not wanting to watch him deliver the strokes.

Swish, splatt Swish, splatt Swish, splatt Swish, splatt Swish, splatt Swish, splatt

A short pause

Swish, splatt Swish, splatt Swish, splatt Swish, splatt Swish, splatt Swish, splatt

The first twelve were delivered in rapid succession with just that pause in the middle. It's a style of caning I find most difficult to deal with and before the last had landed I was gurgling from the back of my throat with a sort of muted protest that I couldn't control. My breasts were crushed against the cushion material and I could feel the moisture down below. I was already off the launching pad. He came round and, standing in front of me, thrust his cock into my mouth which killed my protest straight away. I could tell that this wasn't to be another cum session but more a means of reinforcing my helplessness, of making me even more aware of my vulnerability. He gripped my hair and held me in position. He was being very thorough. Making sure I felt his balls against my chin and the bulbous tip within my throat with every thrust. He decorated each one with a vivid and frightening description of what he intended to unleash on my bottom.

"I'm going to cane that sexy arse of yours so hard you won't be able to sit down for weeks. Then I'm going to spank you some more and watch you writhe and wriggle and listen to you begging for mercy and I will show you NONE." He went on with the tirade till he finally pulled out leaving my aching jaw dribbling. He returned the malacca to the umbrella stand and took out the rattan then took up position once more.

"Count them out slut. And, remember, this is going to hurt you a lot more than it will hurt me. Six. Ready or not, here comes your beating."

Swish CRACK... I felt it rip through me like a line of fire. My breath caught in my throat. I paused, allowing it to flow through me. I find, at times like these, that it's best to relax, not to tense up and to take time to savour the deliciously challenging feelings.

"One, thank you Master."

There was no tap, tapping just the hiss of rattan renting the air asunder and then its progress halted in its tracks by my naked, soft, sore flesh. Knowing what to expect doesn't help in any way, in fact, if anything it allows one to imagine something worse than it turns out to be. But this stroke really got to me and I thought, for one moment, that I might even find tears emerging before the six were through.

"Two, thank you Master."

The third thundered in immediately and, just as had been promised, mercilessly. I ground my flesh into the soft leather of the bench, finding some relief in the sexual heat that was rising inside me.

"Three, thank you Master."

Once more there was no pause and he brought that lovely happiness stick down with even greater force. I growled aloud and ground harder into the bench hoping to find relief in an orgasm.

"Don't you dare cum bitch, 'cos if you do I'll stop and throw you out just as you are." I stopped the action, knowing that he meant it but felt the urge all the more for that.

"Four, thank you Master." No sooner had the words left my mouth than the next sliced in and I found myself howling a sort of low sound that smacked of intense, beautiful pain, pain of the sort people like me crave. I let it soak throughout my entire being. It was like being in a bath of Epsom salts, as it reached into all of the corners my aching body possessed.

"Five, thank you Master."

Harry appeared in front of me and lifted my chin and stared right through me.

"You know what they say about the last, don't you slut?"

"Yes Master."

"What? What do they say about the last?"

"That it's always the hardest stroke of all."

"That's right and this is going to be no exception."

"Yes, I understand Master."

He returned and took up position again. This time there were five or six quite hard taps that some newcomers might think were actual cane strokes however I knew they were just the precursors of what otherwise could be a misplaced strike that would be a game finisher and I could sense that Harry wanted me howling after this one.

The tap tapping continued and then there was that tummy churning pause. The moment or two when one thinks one knows what is heading one's way but there's a dribble of fear at the back of one's mind that this could be horrible. And then I heard it: the awe inspiring whistle of a cane being slashed through the air as though a batsman was going for a very big six. The one that seals the match, the sort of six that lands at the back of the stands, amongst the spectators. The whistle entered my unconscious mind just nano seconds before the cane exploded deep in my buttocks, approaching the bones with an impolite introduction and forcing a gut wrenching howl from my loins through my body and exiting my mouth and hanging in the room as I followed it with a sharp intake of breath and then another howl. This time like a dying dog. Another intake and some panting then a slowing of the breath. A tear in the corner of one eye and a growing sense of pride in having taken it. I took my time, hoping to keep my feelings under firm control.

"Six, thank you Master".

I felt him releasing my ankles, then my wrists and then he gave my buttocks a few hearty slaps. I gripped his embarrassingly hard cock and pumped it.

"Turn over and hang that slutty head over the edge. I'm going to fuck that throat till it's as sore as your arse." I struggled to turn over, knowing that the contact twixt bench and bottom would be a bit bewildering. I winced as the two came into contact. "What am I going to do, slut?"

"You're going to fuck my slutty throat till it's as sore as my arse, Master." My head was hanging, ready for him. He started to prod at my lips. I played a little hard to get, knowing this would make him even more aggressive and my blood was up. I needed a proper ploughing.

"Open, bitch." I carried on resisting but he pinched my nostrils together so, without opening my mouth, I wouldn't be able to breathe. I held out for a few moments but then I opened with a gasp and he pushed straight in and pressed home and to the hilt, allowing me no time to get used to his great girth once more. I so love dominant men (well, people actually). Twisting my nipples with one hand and gripping my hair with the other he fucked my face in such a domineering and confident way that I found myself in a part of heaven reserved for very special people. I know not where from - my eyes were covered by his balls - but he produced a rabbit vibrator and handed it to me. "Take it slowly, bitch" Having an intimate, nay, almost professional knowledge of these devices I switched it on, sight unseen and pushed it deep inside me, the ear against my clitoris.

"That's it, that's all you're worth bitch." Then as he fucked my face and I fucked myself I found myself almost crying with lust, with happiness, with the living in this heavenly moment and with the prospect of glorious release. As I rubbed my bottom against the leather and the rabbit against me and he pounded in and out of my oesophagus I could feel his tempo rising and mine matching his. I couldn't imagine him having very much to offer by way of semen, but I didn't care: he was using my throat the way God intended. And boy, he was using it well. His nipple work grew more challenging and I could feel that connection between them and my lust drifting me over the edge and as I felt my tummy tensing in the arch backed, pre-orgasmic moment I felt him pull out of me and, knowing what was about to happen I kept my mouth wide open and just like in a porn movie he started pumping his cock with his fist.

"Please give it to me, Master. I want all of it." I felt the shudder run through my entire body as wave after wave of intense spasms wracked me. His pumping grew faster.

"I'm cumming. Take it bitch. And don't spill a drop." He started to shoot, not as hard or as high pressure as before but a surprising amount. "Aggghhhhh."

"Oooohh, yes, yes, YESSSS." My own orgasm still running wild, my head reeling, my mouth open, his lovely sperm becoming mine, his hands at my breasts, mauling them, then pinching nipples and drawing out the last shudders of my climax and the last thigh tightening spurts of semen and the rabbit now redundant lying on my belly.

A while later we were back in the stables, I was still naked, he was now back in his overalls sitting in his chair behind the desk with me on the other side of it, enjoying him enjoying looking at me.

"You've got a great body." The abusive language was now gone, replaced by the soft, commanding tones of Harry, the public Harry.

"Thank you Master."

"It's Harry now."

"I'd prefer to call you Sir."

"As you wish." He got up and crossed to me, lifted my chin and stared deep into my soul. "Maybe next time we'll introduce something more challenging."

"What do you have in mind Sir.?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out... in good time." He dropped my chin and reached in his pocket and handed me my keys and mobile phone. "Now, you'd better get going."

"But my... my clothes."

"Ah ah." He shook his head. "A deal is a deal. You drive home naked with your camera facing you and running and send me the file when you get home." My heart sank as I realised that it was now rush hour and the roads would be crowded and slow, me naked, with welted bottom and sore nipples.

"Please." He looked at me, shook his head and walked off.