Reposted for SM enthusiasts in the amusement park.

page views:1 Publication date:2020-09-22

I looked at the girl on the bed. She was awake.
Her skin was translucent and soft, with a slight pink hue, perhaps deepened by shyness. She looked just like her, both in figure and face, I thought.
My gaze began to move inch by inch over her body: delicate, graceful feet, toes curled in tension. Her ankles were equally delicate. Further up were her calves, smooth as jade, and her thighs, long and slender. Her buttocks were high and firm, forming a beautiful curve with her thighs, unlike most girls who have some fleshiness in that area. Then there was that area, with light brown hair, but not thick.
I finally managed to move my gaze upwards: a flat stomach, exquisite shoulders, soft, boneless arms, the inner sides of her arms so white it was mesmerizing. Her high, firm breasts were even more captivating. The tops were still pink, but not very full, carrying a girlish innocence. They rose and fell with her rapid breathing, trembling with nervousness. Her long neck was also tense, swallowing incessantly; I could even see the pale blue veins pulsating there. A strand of long hair was wrapped around it.
I carefully reached out my hand, and she flinched in fright, but couldn't move an inch, letting me pick up that strand of hair—still carrying the unique fragrance of a young girl—and slowly twirl it around my fingers, then my hand touched her head. A large tear slid from her beautiful eye. Then more tears streamed down her face.
I gently kissed her ear and whispered, "I'll take the thing out of your mouth, but don't scream. I'll relax you, but you have to be obedient. Okay?"
Perhaps surprised by my gentleness, she paused for a moment, then quickly nodded.
I pressed the lever to loosen the straps tightening her hands and feet, and removed the gag from her mouth. Her lips were luscious and full, a trace of saliva clinging to them. I couldn't help but kiss them. She tried to pull her head away, but I held it down, not daring to force my tongue in, only teasing her lips. After a while, she stopped struggling, clearly resigned to her fate. So I let go of her, stood up, and brought my penis to her lips, touching them. Her face flushed instantly, and she jerked her head away, almost falling off the bed.
I pressed the remote, and she was pulled back onto the bed.
Then I grabbed her breasts and kneaded them forcefully—so good, smooth and elastic. She pursed her lips and cried out, "Ah, ah, ah," her voice short and suppressed. But she didn't beg; she knew it was useless.
I ignored her, pinched her nipples with my fingers, and suddenly pulled them upwards forcefully, squeezing hard. She screamed, trying to lift her upper body, crying out.
I released one hand from her hair and brought her mouth to my penis. She still kept her mouth tightly shut, and her eyes closed. I increased the pressure on her breasts, and she finally opened her mouth and cried out, but she didn't give in.
Good, I would be disappointed if she gave in now. This is just the beginning; I'm just making her nipples more sensitive.
I let go of her without saying a word. I won't say a word until the girl submits. She opened her eyes in surprise, saw me lighting a large candle, and murmured, "What are you doing? What are you doing?"
I didn't even look at her. Soon enough wax was collected, and I held her twisting shoulder with one hand, the wax landing precisely on one of her nipples.
She began to scream and writhe, more tears streaming down her face. Red wax dripped onto her chest, lower abdomen, thighs, and the insides of her arms. After a pause, I wiped away the congealed wax and did it again. When it was over, she was trembling uncontrollably, her muscles tense in resistance to the stimulation. I brought my penis to her lips again; she no longer flinched, her eyes filled with fear and pleading, but she still didn't take it in.
Good. I carefully parted her labia and found her small clitoris—then I paused: still a virgin. But that was even better; I felt a surge of excitement. She kept pleading, "No, no," but I poured all the wax onto her clitoris and between her labia. She jolted upwards, only to be pulled back onto the bed. She let out a scream, followed by a suppressed sob. I knew it was the pain that had tensed her body and suppressed her voice.
After almost three minutes, she collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily. The candle wax was full again, and ignoring her pleas, I parted her labia again and did it once more, and then again. I lit a cigarette and watched her writhe on the bed. When she finally calmed down, she was covered in sweat, and a captivating, youthful scent filled the room.
I brought my penis to her lips again, the cigarette butt intentionally hovering above her nipple. She sobbed, hesitated, glanced at my cigarette butt, and opened her mouth, trying to lift her upper body. It was completely unskilled, but still incredibly stimulating. My penis immediately became aroused. I started shoving it into her mouth; she clearly didn't understand and tried to pull away. I grabbed her hair to calm her down. After a while, I pressed the remote control, releasing her hands and feet. She got up because supporting herself to give me oral sex was too tiring.
I simply lay down and slapped and pulled her so she was on top of me in a 69 position. She practiced while secretly watching me. Every now and then, some fluid dripped onto my legs. It was always like this. I ignored it, smoked, and admired the virgin's full, rosy mons pubis, carefully controlling my desire.
Feeling my penis getting harder and harder, I reached into the small cabinet by the bed and took out a dildo. This dildo was a bit special: it was covered in silicone, and inside the silicone layer were interconnected small sacs. In the middle was a thick copper wire woven from dozens of thin copper wires, which had a certain elasticity, and one end was connected to a copper ball, exposed outside the silicone.
I applied some lubricant to the dildo, then put one arm around the girl's waist and ruthlessly inserted the dildo into her anus with the other hand.
The girl jumped up suddenly, but I pinned her down again, yelling, "Don't move!"
She didn't dare move, only sobbing loudly, groaning "Ah, ah," twisting her head and buttocks, repeatedly crying, "What are you doing? What are you doing... No!"
I've been kind enough not to make the anus bigger before inserting it. I muttered to myself, ignoring her, and kept pushing the anus all the way to the end. The girl's head tilted back, letting out a long groan, her waist trembling under my hands. I knew the anus was reaching her uterus through the rectal wall. This was the first time her uterus had been attacked. "
You'll get what's coming to you," I thought to myself. I inserted the buckle into her anus and then tightened it around the anus, like a small umbrella pressing against the girl's anal sphincter. Now, unless someone else did it for her, she couldn't remove the anus herself. I then connected the anus to a thin, flexible tube. Then I released the girl. She collapsed onto the bed, her body covered in sweat.
I lit another cigarette and turned it on. The compressor hummed to life.
A thin wire connected to the flexible tube leading to the anus was attached to a copper wire inside the anus. Two oil pipes, one inlet and one outlet, injected hot oil into the center of the anus. The flowing hot oil thickened and heated the anus, causing it to slowly rotate and wriggle. In short, it was an electrified, artificial penis—though I hadn't plugged it in yet.
But feeling the anus quickly grow larger, the girl still screamed in terror. "What are you doing? What are you doing!" she groaned, reaching for her anus. The anal penis was stretched taut over her rectum, and her stimulated anus gripped it tightly—something she couldn't easily remove herself. A sudden, excessive movement caused the writhing anal penis to forcefully push against her cervix, causing her to collapse back onto the bed, crying in despair.
I finished a cigarette; the anal penis was now over 3 centimeters in diameter, and she was starting to feel short of breath. This was a natural reaction to the diaphragm being pushed up by the foreign object inserted into her anus. I balanced the pressure of the two tubing tubes, preventing the anal penis from enlarging further. Then I turned her over. With every movement, she cried out.
Then I slowly explored her body, enjoying the firm yet soft skin of a virgin, white with a rosy glow, delicate and smooth, warm and trembling slightly. Sweat dampened her skin, and the sweet scent of a virgin intensified in the air.
I kissed her slowly; she had completely broken down, no longer struggling. When I took her mouth in mine, she made a soft "mmm," turned her head slightly, and obediently offered me her tongue. She understood that non-cooperation would only make things worse.
I brought my penis back to her mouth; she glanced at me and took it in. I grabbed her hair and began deep-throating. She supported herself with her hands, occasionally letting out bitter, indistinct moans. When I ejaculated for the first time, it almost choked her.
Now, she lay there quietly, panting, seemingly accustomed to the assault of my anus, and I had ejaculated; she thought it was all over. Actually, it was just the beginning.
When I pulled her hands and feet back together, she looked at me in terror, not knowing what I was going to do. My fingers slipped between her labia, already wet and slippery. My fingers teased her vaginal opening, causing her to writhe involuntarily, tears streaming down her face.
With a heart of stone, I clamped a wire-connected jaw onto her clitoris. After a moment, to calm her, I helped her sit up, supporting her buttocks, and aimed my now-erect penis at her narrow vagina.
She knew the final moment had inevitably arrived. But she dared not resist, closing her eyes. A stream of tears rolled down her cheeks. Actually, she should have understood this outcome when I forced her into my car late at night while she was walking alone on the street.
Looking at her exquisitely beautiful face—it was so lifelike—excited me even more, and I thrust in suddenly.
I heard a piercing scream, but I paid no attention to anything else. I only felt most of my glans being tightly enveloped by the soft, warm moisture of her virgin vagina; the contractions of her vagina, a mixture of tension and pain, were indescribably wonderful.
I paused briefly, then thrust harder, and another scream rang out. This time, the head of my penis touched a soft membrane. I knew what it was, of course, and carefully rubbed against it, moving in and out. The girl burst into tears, trembling all over. I whispered in her ear, "Remember, this is the last moment of your virginity." Then I held her tightly, slowly increasing the pressure until the membrane broke. The girl let out a long scream, her body convulsing, rubbing against me, trembling, her face pale, sobbing uncontrollably.
I didn't care; I pushed harder, harder still, letting all my primal instincts erupt. Only when my penis hit a soft, warm wall did I breathe a sigh of relief. The girl beneath me had already collapsed onto the bed, her mouth slightly open, barely able to cry out. The trembling from the pain hadn't subsided, still bouncing in my arms.
Every time I moved, she cried out, more tears streaming down her face. Her fingernails broke off on the sheets.
I took a deep breath, withdrew, and then thrust forward again, grinding against the wall. Through the vaginal wall, I could feel the massage of the hot oil stick.
The girl trembled in my arms like a leaf in the autumn wind, making incoherent cries. I kept thrusting and grinding; she didn't know what to do. It was her first time experiencing something like this, how could she not move? But moving only brought greater pain.
As I moved, I searched for her cervix. It was easy to find. This was one of the reasons I used the hot oil stick. The uterus inside the girl's body has an arc, it's curved. Now the stick, through the rectum, straightened it, fixing the cervix directly against the vagina. And the hot oil massage made the originally tight cervix slightly open. Girl, now I aimed it. With a short, violent thrust, I forced my huge glans into the cervix. A large wave spread throughout the girl's body. I pushed harder, slowly pushing in, and the girl let out strange moans, her whole body beginning to convulse. I slowly moved my penis in and out of her cervix, mainly because it was so tight. The girl was sweating profusely, her eyes rolled back, and she was already somewhat dazed.
I withdrew my penis into her vagina and moved it slowly, stroking her as I did so, waiting for her to recover a little before doing it again. Then, one more time. Her vagina was a bit short, and my thick, long penis almost filled her tender uterus.
The girl was completely overwhelmed. Her whole body felt like it had been drenched in water; she could only pant and tremble, her moans, sometimes strong and sometimes weak, now barely audible. "
Don't go too far the first time," I thought, so I leaned down again and thrust my penis into her uterus. After hesitating for a moment, I finally couldn't resist the temptation and reached for the remote control. The voltage was always 36V, so I set the current to 3 amps, then thought about it and set it to 2 amps. I set the frequency very low, 1.5 cycles per second. Okay, I looked at the girl beneath me again; she still didn't know what was about to happen. I pressed the switch.
In an instant, she jerked her body outwards, then immediately curled up, hugging me tightly, her fingers gripping me so tightly they hurt. The electric current traveled from the anal tip in her rectum to her clitoris, passing through her uterus. Accompanied by screams, her uterus began contracting 1.5 times per second, powerfully massaging my penis. An incomparably wonderful pleasure surged through my head, then robbed me of my will. I only felt my penis growing larger and larger, and after what seemed like an eternity, I finally ejaculated.
It took me a while to recover, lying on top of the girl, panting. Her whole body was still convulsing 1.5 times per second, including her uterus. When I turned off the current, she still didn't stop; the bed was soaked.
I pulled my penis out, and a lot of blood flowed out. I saw a large patch of pale red on the sheet beneath her genitals. "That was a bit too much today," I thought, removing the anal tip and inserting my fingers into her anus. She reacted slightly, then expelled some excrement. As I rinsed her, I thought, "There's no way around it. Another enema today would probably kill her. Maybe next time."
I gave her an injection, then gently washed and massaged her with warm water. Eventually, she relaxed and fell into a coma. I put her on an IV drip for anti-inflammatory and fluid replacement, and restrained her hands and feet to prevent her from injuring herself if she reacted while unconscious. I glanced at her again—she really looked like her. Then I turned off the lights and left the basement.
This weekend is going to be nice—I thought as I lay down alone: I hope I can fall asleep holding her soon.
These past few days at work, I've been a bit restless, the girl keeps appearing in my mind. I've clearly relaxed my oversight of the company's business; I figure nothing bad will happen anytime soon.
To others, I'm a successful medical device distributor, an electromechanical engineer who occasionally does some minor design work—that's my graduate degree major—and also has a strong interest in pharmacy and medicine. He was usually quiet and reserved, but also somewhat aloof. He rarely attended social events or weekend gatherings with "young successful people." In his free time, he either practiced martial arts or hid in his remote villa reading or doing small design projects. Closer friends believed that I was still struggling to recover from the loss of my childhood sweetheart. They introduced me to beautiful or talented girls one after another, and I even had passionate encounters with a few of them. But my true interests remained a mystery.
I met this girl when I was driving alone on a boring weekend, in a small suburban town of a city that claimed to be an international metropolis, 280 kilometers away.
It was late at night, and that stretch of road was unusually dark and deserted. When the girl suddenly entered the beam of my car, I was startled and instinctively slammed on the brakes, momentarily thinking it was my imagination—the girl looked so much like her.
Hesitantly, the girl ran to the car, opened the door, and peeked in. After a moment's hesitation, she climbed in and timidly said to me, "Could you take me to a place where there are people? I'll pay you for the ride." I noticed she had just been crying, and if she hadn't been walking alone on such a dark road, she probably wouldn't have gotten into a stranger's car like that. Of course, my appearance also dispelled some of her doubts, so much so that when I later held a towel soaked in cologne to her mouth and nose, she wasn't wary at all. The girl's brand-new ID card showed her name and date of birth: also surnamed Ouyang, Ouyang Xue, born on June 5, 1983, not yet eighteen years old, the same birthday as me.
After finishing my training at the club that day, I quickly took a shower and drove to a soup restaurant. After thinking for a moment, I ordered the same dish as yesterday: Angelica and Pigeon Soup, since I thought she might not like turtle or anything like that.
Everything was normal behind the car. I drove onto the highway, stepped on the gas, and half an hour later slowly drove the car into the garage.
This villa was acquired secretly with my first pot of gold back when private land ownership was still permitted. My intention was to surprise her, but she couldn't bear the lack of luxury and left the land fallow for three years before I designed and built my own castle. However, few people know about this castle; everyone assumes I live in an apartment in the city, and if I'm not there at night, I'm at the usual place with a one-night stand.
After parking the car, I went to check on her. The basement where she was kept was my own design, even the walls were padded with sponge and covered with waterproof silk. The main area was occupied by a torture bed and a half-meter-deep temperature-controlled pool; the torture bed's function had already been demonstrated on the first night. In the corner was a squat toilet, and all sorts of washing and rinsing supplies were attached to the headboard. Next to it was a rubber cabinet containing various tools. Mats and towels were scattered everywhere. She was still asleep on the torture bed, covered with a towel. For the first few days, I didn't hesitate to use sedatives. It was necessary.
It was still early, so I added a piece of wild ginseng to the angelica and pigeon soup and continued simmering it over low heat. I watched a DVD before preparing dinner. I simply fried four eggs, took the salmon slices out of the freezer, tore off the packaging, poured ice cubes onto a plate, and microwaved two small pork chops while I mixed a fruit salad. Adding bread, butter, cheese, orange juice, caviar, and other ingredients, I brought a huge tray into her room. I changed into a white towel bathrobe.
The girl was already awake, huddled at the head of the bed in her white towel bathrobe, with tear stains at the corners of her eyes, but she wasn't crying—this was the third day, and she couldn't keep crying. She visibly trembled when she saw me come in.
I placed the soup, a glass of orange juice, two fried eggs, a pork chop, and a salad in front of her, mixed the mustard for her, and then slowly spread a thick layer of caviar on a slice of bread and handed it to her, simply saying, "Eat." Then it was my turn; I put butter, cheese, and pork chop into the bread, and scooped the caviar directly into my mouth. I suddenly found myself wondering, and casually said to her, "Actually, one of the great pleasures of eating caviar is the way the roe breaks apart in your mouth, one by one. You should spoon it in and eat it, it's a waste to
spread it on bread—of course, you can eat it however you want, however you want." She stopped and looked at the bread in her hand, at a loss. Hearing the last sentence, she hesitated for a moment: "Please let me go. I won't tell anyone."
I ate slowly, and after a while, I pushed away the empty plate and lit a cigarette. "Let's make a deal. I can't let you go now, but as long as you behave, you won't be harmed. In a year, I'll give you a large sum of money. Think about how much you want."
"I don't want money, and I won't tell anyone, please let me go."
"That was your first time, and girls are always very guilty the first time. You won't be much better off with anyone else." I was trying to coax her.
She shook her head. I didn't say anything more and carefully looked at the girl in front of me. Her eyes were swollen from crying so much, making her look haggard, but her skin was no longer pale; it had regained its original luster, with a faint pink hue peeking through its fair and delicate surface. Ultimately, that night hadn't caused her any real harm, it was just a little too intense. Being a young girl, she recovered quickly. After
she finished her salad, I put the fried egg I'd saved onto her plate, went back to the kitchen to mix another plate, and silently handed it to her in the basement. She cautiously asked, "Is it like that night all year round?"
"That depends on whether you're obedient. If you are, you might feel good too. You know girls feel good about this kind of thing." I doubted she understood the difference between normal sex and BDSM.
"So, will you really let me go a year from now?"
"If you're willing to leave then. Well, men naturally want to change partners and enjoy a few more. I'll give you a large sum of money, enough for half a lifetime."
She lowered her head: "I'm so scared. That day... I almost died. As long as you don't make me suffer so much again, I..." She saw my gaze and suddenly realized there was no room for negotiation. But, more or less, I gave her a glimmer of hope.
I raised my chin: "Drink the soup, you need to nourish yourself. As long as you're obedient, you can suffer less." After she finished the soup, I slowly pressed her down onto the carpet. This time, she obediently didn't resist and, at my instruction, began to give me oral sex. However, due to her lack of skill, she was unlikely to make me ejaculate, so ten minutes later I began to penetrate her vagina.
The second entry was still very tight and dry. I thrust for a long time at first, and she was under me, her brows furrowed, covered in sweat, scratching my back, but I still only managed to insert the head of my penis. Having no other choice, I used lubricant to finally insert it. But the moment I touched her cervix, her reaction was far stronger than I expected; she almost fainted from the pain. I had to grit my teeth and pull it out—perhaps the damage to her uterus that day was more severe than I anticipated, and it hadn't healed yet.
She lay there trembling, panting, and cried with a heart full of grievance.
I didn't intend to be gentle, but I didn't want to hurt her or even kill her, otherwise, there would be no fun. I sighed, took the vaginal speculum, and said to her impatiently, "Open your legs and don't move. I need to check if you have any injuries inside—if you do, we won't do it today."
She blushed, even her chest turned red, closed her eyes, and turned her head away, but still opened her legs. The insertion of the speculum made her groan. I carefully opened the speculum, turned on the flashlight, and looked inside.
Her vagina was very smooth; I searched carefully and found only a few small wounds. Even if I had torn her vagina that night, it had almost healed in three days. This made me quite satisfied. Although the wound in her vagina would intensify her pain during intercourse, it would also cause inflammation, and I had more ways to exacerbate her suffering.
I found a speculum and poked it into her uterus, ignoring her struggles and cries of pain. The thin speculum quickly entered the cervix. I pushed it in as I looked.
Her uterus was indeed still not healed. She was not yet eighteen, and her uterus was still too delicate, lacking strong self-repair capabilities. There were still many bleeding points on the inner wall of her cervix, and it was even worse inside the uterus. A large area of the mucous membrane was almost completely damaged, probably left by my large glans when her uterus contracted repeatedly under the electric shock. She was very tense
, her whole body tense, and any small movement was enough to make her bite her lip and moan. Her body was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and her whole body was flushed pink with embarrassment, making her look stunning.
I couldn't resist, so I pulled over the enema bag, turned her over, and before she understood what was happening, I had already inserted the tube into her anus, adjusted the water temperature to 50 degrees Celsius, and started injecting.
She screamed and then kept begging for mercy: "No, no, please let me go, please don't."
I whispered in her ear, "So you want me to do it to your front? Your uterus isn't healed yet, but you can see I can't hold back anymore—don't be nervous, I'm just going to wash you inside." "
Inside?" she didn't quite understand.
“Yes, actually, the enema is for your own good. That way, when I do it to your back... your anus, it won't hurt as much.” “No, no!” For the first time, a girl understood how terrifying “backdoor” always was. “I, I, I'll help you with my mouth. Oh, I really can't take it anymore!” She couldn't help but burst into tears.
I held my penis to her mouth, grinning wickedly. “Okay, let's make a deal. I'll stop when you let me ejaculate. I hope you've studied the DVDs I gave you these past two days.”
She looked at my penis for a while, crying, then put it in her mouth, but didn't know what to do.
“Sigh.” I sighed. It seemed she really hadn't studied. I had no choice but to guide her little by little, how to use her tongue, how to use her lips, and then… how to do deep throat. The enema fluid that was slowly injected made her cooperate exceptionally well. I took the opportunity to do some "ideological work" on her: "How come you don't know how to do this? This is something every woman does for her husband or boyfriend. Watch some DVDs, go online, and you'll understand. Women...you have to learn to enjoy these things." I don't know if she listened, but she gradually became more skilled. Just as I was enjoying myself, she suddenly spat out my penis, moaning, "Ah...ah...I'm going to die, it hurts so much, stop, stop."
She couldn't take it anymore. I looked at the counter; 4500cc had gone in. Her slender waist was now swollen like she was eight months pregnant. I stopped the enema, and she groaned helplessly, tossing and turning on the bed. She kept giving me pleading looks.
I pretended to hesitate for a moment before saying, "Okay, I'll give you one more chance. First, empty your bladder, then we'll do it again. While I'm doing it, you'll give me oral sex. If it doesn't work this time, I'll do it to you from behind."
Hearing that she had to do it again, she was terrified and didn't know what to do. I remained unmoved: "What, want my little brother in now?" I pointed to my erect penis. She immediately shook her head: "One more time, one more time, ah, I can't take it anymore."
I laughed and carried her to the squat toilet next to me, pulled out the tube, and she shuddered, looking at me with extreme embarrassment, but she couldn't hold back the urge to defecate, and with a whoosh, the water in her stomach gushed out. After about a minute of gushing, her slender waist returned to its original shape, and she collapsed to the side. I slowly rinsed her, and she was too weak to resist. After rinsing her clean, I carried her back to the bed and inserted the tube into her anus. Then I lay down myself.
She consciously began to give me oral sex again. However, before she reached her limit, I still didn't ejaculate. She finally burst into tears, collapsing weakly to the side, pleading incessantly: "Let me go, let me go, I can't take it anymore."
I teased her: "Want to do it again?"
She shook her head weakly; she already knew that being "fucked from behind" was actually unavoidable.
I had her finish the enema, then carefully rinsed her again, my fingers moving in and out of her anus and vagina, probing and pinching. She lay there helplessly, letting me do as I pleased, moaning incessantly, but no longer daring to resist. But when I pressed my egg-sized glans against her anus, she trembled uncontrollably and let out a loud sob: "You're not human." As revenge for those words, I thrust my glans in forcefully, all the way into her anus, and she screamed. Her hands gave way, and she collapsed onto the bed. I pulled her hair, making her tilt her head back: "Listen to me, you can't disobey me here, or I'll make you suffer even more than last time. You could have had a more comfortable night, like using some lubricant, but it seems I'll have to teach you a lesson." With that, I thrust my penis in again, beginning a frenzied pumping. At first, she cried out "Ah, ah" with each thrust, but soon the sound faded, and a trickle of red blood flowed from her anus. Still not satisfied, I casually opened a few vibrating eggs and inserted them into her vagina, torturing her until she was nearly dead.
But I wasn't about to let her go so easily. Just as I felt myself about to ejaculate, I pulled out, tied her up on her back, and hung her legs high. She had no strength left to resist, only gasping for breath. By the time she caught her breath, I'd almost finished a cigarette, and my penis had recovered too.
I vigorously rubbed her breasts, teasing her glistening nipples: "Does it hurt a lot to do it from behind?"
She nodded hastily.
"Then how about the front?"
She shook her head hastily.
"You insulted me, I can't let it go like this. Here's what we'll do, your uterus isn't healed yet, and you say it hurts from behind..." Before I could finish, I lashed her between the thighs with a whip. Caught off guard, she screamed so loudly it almost shook the house off. She tried to clamp her legs together, but it was no use.
Once she calmed down, I lashed her again. After three lashes, I used the whip handle to tease her vulva, casually asking, "I'll give you a choice: do you want me to do it from behind, or do you want me to whip you a few more times?"
"I, I... I'll never do it again. I'll do whatever you tell me to do." She understood.
"That's true, but you still have to be punished this time. Either I'll whip you five more times, or I'll do it from behind until I ejaculate. You choose." I carefully rubbed the whip handle against her clitoris, which was still very small.
"I beg you, I beg you, please don't, let me go!" she cried incessantly. Sigh, women just can't grasp the point. Would I let you go? “Alright, I’ll help you choose, and then I’ll give you another lash.” With that, I used clips to pull her labia majora and minora apart, revealing the tender flesh inside. Before I could even strike, just as the nine-headed whip tip was waving and the leather strap scraping against her skin, she screamed, “Fuck me from behind! Fuck me from behind! Don’t hit me!”
I still gave her a quick lash, “So you’ll remember.” Afterward, ignoring her trembling body in pain, I flipped her over and thrust hard into her anus. That night, when I got off her, she was already in a semi-conscious state.
Although her anal injury was severe, it only affected her sitting or lying down. I was more worried about the recovery of her uterus, so I even gave her progesterone. Well, after the check-up today, everything was normal, and I could enjoy myself again.
Although it had been a week, she was still very shy about being naked in front of me. When I touched and examined her genitals, she trembled with nervousness, her whole body flushed red. Ah, this really made me happy. I inserted a specially made vibrating egg straight into her uterus, then pulled her out of the basement for the first time and pushed her into the kitchen: "I've always cooked, today it's my turn to enjoy myself." I went to the living room to drink and listen to CDs.
After finishing one CD, I pushed open the door to the balcony connected to the kitchen, and sure enough, the girl was lying there, groaning while clutching her lower abdomen, her vaginal fluids already wetting a small patch of the floor. I smiled, went over, picked her up, and carried her back to the room, giving her some water. It took her a while to come to her senses.
I chuckled, pinching her hand as I said, "Trying to run away? This is what will happen to you once you step outside. Tell me, how will I punish you?"
She seemed to understand, weakly asking, panting, "What...what did you put inside me?"
"Where?"
"In...in my uterus!"
I wasn't going to hide it from her: "Actually, it's simple. I put a remote-controlled vibrator in your uterus. If it receives the 'off' signal from the remote in the house, nothing will happen. But if it doesn't receive the signal, it will vibrate powerfully and give an electric shock. So once you step outside, you won't be able to take another step. As for removing this invisible shackle yourself—I've never heard of any girl being able to take something out of her uterus by herself." She buried her head in her arms and cried helplessly.
I showed no sign of letting her off the hook: "Tell me, how will I punish you?"
"What do you want? Please let me go. Just have mercy." She was truly pitiful.
I pushed her onto the sofa and made her perform oral sex while I used a vaginal tightening device to poke around inside her vagina. After a while, I casually shoved a large, artificial electric penis into her anus, turned it on, and then pressed the glans against her vulva.
After nearly an hour of vibrating egg torture, she had lost a lot of fluid, and with the vaginal tightening device used several times, her vagina was both sensitive and narrow. She was in excruciating pain from the start, but was too weak to struggle. Her brows were furrowed, and she moaned and pleaded, beads of sweat constantly dripping from her body. The trembling of her thighs and lower abdomen aroused me greatly.
However, I wasn't in a hurry to force it in. I pushed in a little, grinning, and asked, "Where are you now? Tell me!"
She didn't answer, only tensing her muscles with each thrust.
I reached down and touched her vulva, forcefully inserting my index and middle fingers as well. Her tightened vagina couldn't accommodate this, and she screamed, scratching my shoulder. I then pressed my thumb on her clitoris, and with my index and middle fingers, I pinched and kneaded it. She struggled, her head shaking from side to side, her mouth wide open as if begging for mercy, but only uncontrollable moans escaped her lips.
"Beg for mercy, beg for mercy," I teased her, pinching harder as I worked.
"Spare...please spare me." She managed to utter those words with great difficulty. I squeezed her again before letting go, slowly pulling my fingers out, and then pushed my penis in a little more: "Tell me, where did you get?"
She dared not resist any longer: "To...to the end."
"To the end? No, you could have gone further." I grabbed her breasts and pressed her down, forcefully pushing my penis forward again. She opened her mouth wide but couldn't make a sound. After I withdrew a little, she weakly answered: "Push...to the cervix, just now...into the uterus."
"But my little brother isn't fully inside yet? Can I push it into your uterus?"
"No. Ah...no!" There was still that vibrating egg in her uterus, and my little brother could feel it, so she could feel the double assault.
"Then you have to answer my questions honestly." I planned to use this opportunity to find out about her background. She immediately nodded vigorously.
"Where do you live?" The sudden question about her home caught her off guard.
"I...I..." The girl's defensiveness prevented her from answering immediately, but my little brother quickly made her decide: "My home is in H City. Ah..."

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