Bedroom

Pure white lace sheets hung down from the ceiling, tied open to display an elegant canopy bed. Dark maroon furniture and pale-yellow wood walls. A polished wooden table with two chairs rested in the corner. Intimate dining for Danielle to enjoy. Smooth white walls with dark wood trim, except for the far side where curtains showcased the sparkling ocean.

Danielle guided me into position, and I stood in front of the recessed window. She fastened a thick leather collar around my neck. It was tight against my skin, but not so constricting that it interfered with breathing. A heavy-duty set of leather manacles were hooked around my wrists and ankles. The ball gag was fitted back into place.

I watched the crystal blue sea as I listened to her preparations.

Peaceful.

Calm and serene.

She placed my left wrist against the wall and said, “Don’t move.”

A strip of metal was threaded through one of the metal loops on the leather cuff. Using a drill, she screwed several thick screws through the metal and into protesting wood. My free wrist was placed on the other side and attached just as surely as the first.

“Left ankle.”

I shifted my weight onto my right leg, and she pulled the other one against the wall and attached it like my wrists. All my weight was now supported by my right leg. Danielle kicked the back of my leg, knocking my knee against the windowpane.

I dangled from my wrists. Danielle attached my right cuff with one last metal strip. Drool dripped from the gag forcing my mouth open, and my breath hissed.

My limbs now attached to the thick wooden planks that covered the wall, body hanging inches from the window, I looked out over the crowded pool and the beach beyond it. On display to everyone that looked up. How many people could see me? Danielle was everything. I was nothing. Nothing that mattered.

Cheeks blazing, I waited. My embarrassment wasn’t important, but that didn’t stop it from happening. Danielle pulled the table next to us and piled some things on top of it.

Swallowing hard, I forced my attention back to the window and the two twin boats that pulled parasailers around the bay.

Smack! Sharp pain exploded from one butt cheek. My body swung forward a few inches, and I whimpered into the ball gag. Helplessly, I rocked back. Smack! My other cheek blazed. Danielle’s rhythm was steady. A hard smack would swing me forward, only to meet next on my backswing. She didn’t use the paddle the same way my parents did when they caught me trying to open Father's gun cabinet.

Danielle didn’t make my butt sting with a loud smack that sounded much scarier than it felt. Each swing of her heavy paddle was brutally hard. Bruising impacts that tossed me forward as though I weighed nothing. I bit down hard, grinding the rubber ball gag between my teeth, and simply endured, hoping she enjoyed every stroke.

I imagined Danielle’s expression as she played with her toy. The pleasure she took in my pain. An undercurrent of euphoria sharpened. As though I shared some small part of her lust. At the next impact, I cried out around the gag with far more pleasure than pain.

Someone knocked on the door.

Danielle made an irritated sound and answered the door. An argument. I couldn’t make out most of their words.

My butt burned with a bone-deep ache.

I relished in the sure knowledge that Danielle enjoyed using me. After all, being used by her was the only reason I existed. What more could a living sex doll want?

A kiss.

That was all I wanted for myself.

What’s taking so long? Who would dare interrupt Danielle? The door slammed open, and there was motion behind me.

“Here, I’ll take off her gag, and you can ask her yourself.”

As Danielle spoke, she leaned against me from behind, one hand under my skimpy top, cupping my breast. She ground against me. Her teeth set against my neck. Please kiss me. Toys didn’t speak, so I didn't voice my desire. Her free hand removed the ball gag. She rubbed the spit that came out with it over my face. It should have been her cum.

“Are you okay? Should I contact the police?” asked a concerned sounding woman. I twisted my head around and glared at her. I didn’t care about my exposed position, or about the spit smeared across my face. Danielle was all that mattered, and this bitch was inconveniencing her.

“I don’t need anyone’s help, and I’m exactly where I chose to be. Leave! If the police show up, I’m going to tell them all about how you forced your way into our bedroom and insisted on watching Danielle, and I make love.”

Her face went through an impressive series of expressions, ranging from embarrassment to anger.

Danielle turned on a purple vibrator. The woman jumped at the sound.

“Ass or pussy,” Danielle asked me.

Voice was thick with desire, I said, “This sex toy would like Danielle to use any of her holes in any way Danielle desires.” While I spoke, I glared at the woman, daring her to remain. She broke and fled Danielle’s room as though all of hell chased after her.

Ignoring my surprised expression, Danielle squirted some lube onto the vibrator in her hand.

Danielle had already taught me about true pain. Pain that can only be endured. Exquisite anguish from which I couldn’t escape. Torture that ravaged my body. Raped my soul. That thundering tide of agony gains an edge of ecstasy. Rapturous bliss that’s as strong as the agony from which it spawned.

This time, she was gentle. Danielle taught me about pleasure. She slid the cold cylinder of purple plastic under my skirt and ran it’s tip up and down my labia, teasing me. She guided it inside. I moaned loudly. At first, she stroked in and out with the vibrator. It felt good. Danielle adjusted its position, no longer pumping. Instead, she made small motions, pressing it against my G-spot. I gasped and let out a pleased little moan. A second vibrator touched my nub, and I squeaked, suddenly writhing. A few seconds later, an orgasm hit, and I shuddered in pleasure.

Danielle left.

I was left alone in the room. Utterly disappointed. That… paltry orgasm had been NOTHING compared to this morning. Danielle could use her living sex doll however she wanted. What if this was what she had in mind?

What if that was all I was worth to her?

Danielle deserved the best living sex doll in existence, not a pale imitation which was no better than a two-dollar whore. Little more than a cheap plastic sex doll. My head sagged against the window, and I quietly sobbed. Tears dripped down my chin and fell onto the floor.

Hours later, just before sunset, Danielle returned. She ducked under my arm and sat down on the windowsill. My eyes followed the big red apple in her hand. She took a big bite, slurping just a little to keep its juice from running down her face. I licked my lips hungrily but didn’t say a word. She chewed slowly, eyes roaming over my body.

The apple came back up. This time she held it up to my lips. Thankfully, I took a big bite. It was wonderful, as orgasmic for my parched throat and empty stomach as that little orgasm had been. I hungered for more. So much more. She allowed me to eat the rest of the apple, and I consumed it all. Core, seeds, even the stem. Its sweet juices and tender flesh were a healing balm for my dry throat and empty stomach. Nearly purring, I licked her fingers clean.

Feeling much better, my confidence returned. Until I saw what was on her lap. My body reacted instantly. I could feel my face pale as blood drained away.  My lips parted, and I whimpered. My hammering heart jumped up into my throat. Four skewers. Stainless steel skewers. Like mother used for shish kabobs. Long pieces of stainless steel. One end sharpened to pierce meat, the other bent into a circle. A hoop. I was bound, spread-eagled, within easy arms reach. Whatever she planned to do with them would inevitably cause much agony.

Danielle held up the first one, examining it closely. It gleamed in the setting sun. In the depths of my soul, I shuddered with eager anticipation.

Danielle placed the ball gag back in my mouth, but this time, she didn’t buckle it in place. The straps just hung out of my mouth.

“Don’t let anyone hear you scream,” she said.

I nodded my understanding.

From her seat upon the windowsill, my covered breasts were at eye level. She hooked her fingers onto my low neckline and pulled down, exposing my breasts. Danielle opened a packet containing a small square of fabric that smelled of sterilizing chemicals. She rubbed it on the underside of my left breast. I bit down hard on the ball in my mouth, breathing frantically through my nostrils. Anticipation rushed through me. Carefully, she lined up the skewer. It pushed lightly against my flesh.

Danielle grabbed my left tit and pulled hard, stretching it tight. Giving her something to press against. My quiet whimpers turned into a muffled shriek of agony when the skewer was pushed up ruthlessly. A probe of fire slicing through my breast. My frantic breathing peaked. I choked back a scream when it came out the other side. She didn’t stop. Just kept pushing until the hoop on the other end pressed into the underside of my breast. Then she snipped off the other end, leaving a few inches of bare steel. Another tool hooked onto the part she had cut, and she twisted, rolling the skewer back on itself, creating a matching hoop on this end. As fast as I could draw breath through my clenched teeth, I screamed into the gag. With every turn, the skewer flexed agonizingly. Moving inside of my body.

Tears that blurred my eyes, but they didn’t fall. I watched. Not what she did to my body, but Danielle herself. The center of my world. She had been entirely focused on the skewer as she shoved it all the way through my breast. Savoring the agony her living sex doll experienced. When the skewer broke through the top of my chest, she had squirmed. I hadn’t missed her pleasure-filled moan. Just knowing how much enjoyment she took from my torture honed the sharp euphoria that traced through every intense sensation to a razor edge.

Danielle opened another wipe and sterilized the underside of my other breast. The next skewer touched the bottom of a breast already pulled painfully tight with her other hand. She shoved another spike of agony through. Pleasure and pain merged into pure rapturous anguish. My screams took on a new cadence, driven as much by spikes of ecstasy as endless agony.

For the first time I could remember, Danielle hesitated. She stared into my eyes with fascination. I moaned brokenly. In disappointment? Relief? Both. Definitely both.

An eternity later, both pain and pleasure dwindled down to a manageable level. She rubbed a freshly opened sterilizing wipe between my breasts. Shuddering with dread. Anticipation. Fear. Need. I watched.

Danielle moved the third skewer into position. It pierced my flesh, and I ground down on the ball gripped between my teeth. Stifling back screams. At first. Long before her skewer came out the other side of my breast, my muffled shrieks came as hard and fast as I could draw breath. Instead of twisting the other end of that skewer into a hoop, she immediately put the final one into position and continued her play.

The final skewer broke through my breast. The tension that had been building between my legs exploded in a full-body wave of ecstasy. Orgasmic bliss. Only Danielle and the skewers existed. Her excited breathing. The two new skewers flexing in a familiar pattern. Danielle forming hoops. Each spike of excruciating agony caused another rapturous wave to wrack my body.

Sometime later, the sound of a shower running brought me back to myself. My reflection in the window’s glass proudly displayed Danielle’s work. Both of my breasts had two skewers piercing them. One vertically and one horizontally. A plus sign. Each end of the stainless-steel skewers had been formed into a hoop. Every breath sent shards of agony along the metal that pierced my flesh. Occasionally triggering an aftershock that left me writhing in ecstasy. Leather cuffs kept me from collapsing to the floor.

The shower cut off.

Danielle returned, brushing her teeth. Drill in her free hand. She removed two screws, and my left arm slid down to my side. My right soon followed, and I half-collapsed against the window. Weak as a baby. Her well-muscled arm wrapped around my waist, providing support while she freed my legs and helped me onto the foot of the bed.

She pushed me onto my back and climbed over my body until she straddled my face. Her pussy was invitingly close. Its mere presence was a command. My tongue went to work. She tasted of heaven. Perfection. She moaned loudly; voice thick with passion.

I did that!

Inspired to even greater efforts, I prayed she wouldn’t object when I forced my weak and rubbery limbs to move. Touching Danielle. As though I had any right to caress the woman around whom the universe revolved. She was the center of everything, and I was nothing. Yet… she accepted my strokes. She welcomed my touch. My hands cupped her breasts. Gently teased her nipples. Her pleasure was all that mattered. She grabbed a double handful of my hair and pulled, forcing my tongue deeper. I couldn’t breathe, but that hardly mattered. I was her toy. If my death brought her an iota of pleasure, I would embrace that fate eagerly.

An occasional whiff of humid air, thick with the euphoric scent of her arousal, made it past Danielle’s grinding pussy. Sparks flashed in my vision. Not enough. I fought to stay conscious.

Danielle’s legs clamped tight. Her cries ecstasy loud, even to my covered ears. My heart lifted with joy. She quivered, jerking spasmodically, slowly falling forward. Air. I could breathe, now that she no longer ground my face so forcefully into her pussy. Throbbing lines of agony burned through my breasts. Flaring with each breath. Today, she had used me as thoroughly as a living sex doll could be used.

I closed my eyes and savored my triumph.

Much later, I felt her roll onto her side. Fingers trailed down my shoulder. They hooked through one of the hoops that were now a permanent part of my body. Danielle pulled firmly. Pain roared to life. It took everything I had to choke back a shriek of agony. The coppery taste of blood in my mouth. I scrambled, crawling on my back following insistent tugging.

My head collided against the headboard.

Danielle slid back on top of me, straddling my body. Her lips met mine. Her tongue explored this orifice of her toy. She shifted, and her weight came down upon my bosom. She swallowed my howls of agony. Gradually, my shrieks of pain turned into whimpers. She released my mouth and licked her cum from my face. Danielle nuzzled my neck. Every movement she made. Every breath she took was pure torture.

I wept.

She slept.

Such exquisite agony.

Danielle's toy wanted nothing more.