Breaking

I don't know how much time passed before she returned. Since I wasn't eating solids, I didn't need to poop. I lost track of how many times I peed. Since I was lying across the edge of the bed, and there was a floor drain, that part wasn't nearly as bad as it sounded. Embarrassing, but bearable.

The darkness was absolute, and I was handcuffed to a steel frame. At first, the weight of the box of pins on my chest made me dread her return.

That didn't last.

While the useless cold part of my mind waited, for that was all it could do. The rest of my mind just wanted my Mistress to come back.

Days passed.

Five? Ten? I don't know how many. If I hadn't been chained down, I would have eagerly used every one of the pins on my own flesh, hoping that fulfilling her wishes would cause my Mistress to return.

I don't know when she returned. She must have cleaned me up and hosed down the floor. When I woke, she sat in the chair, reading a book. I couldn't think clearly, and my body was sluggish, but even then, I knew better to speak. I crawled over and curled up against her leg.

When I fell asleep, her fingers were running through my hair.

The next time I woke up, the lights were off. Curling into the fetal position, I wept in the darkness until exhaustion dragged me into unconsciousness.

Blinding light flashed on, waking me from my restless sleep. A few moments later, Mistress was back.

Mistress points at the clean bed waiting in the center of the room.

"I have put your punishment off long enough. Get back into position, spread-eagled on the bed."

The box of pins! Mistress returned, just like she promised. Hadn't my willing submission been the price of her return?

My cold mind didn't agree.

It must be confused.

I lay across the bed, just like before, and Mistress shackles my limbs to the steel frame. Mistress undresses and straddles my head, facing towards the rest of my body.

When her pussy comes into range, I kiss it gently. When she grinds into my face, using my face as though it were nothing more than a sex toy, it makes me feel satisfied in a way I'd never felt before. She was my reality now, and serving her pleasure was all that mattered.

She gently pinches my clit, hard enough to hold it in place, but not so hard that it hurts. Sharp and immediate, pain flares as she slowly presses the first pin into my clit. It's worse than I expected, nothing like the quick pain of being fitted with an IV by a skilled professional.

Hospital needles are razor sharp and slide through flesh effortlessly. These pins are different. Instead of piercing cleanly, they tear their way through my flesh.

Mistress places another pin against my clit and slowly pushes. That's the most painful part, I whimper into her pussy. Building pressure breaks through my skin and slides through intimate flesh. The pin is over an inch long, and she isn't in a hurry. Each and every pin is different. Some slide in easily, others force her to work them into place.

This isn't like before. The first time she raped me, the pain was unbearable. I wasn't aware of anything else. This is less... intense, but it's always changing. Sometimes, while she picks out another pin, I even have a few relatively painless moments.

I lay there, helpless, whimpering with each new pin. Finally, she begins a slow grind. Mistress requires an orgasm, and I must give her the most exquisitely rapturous experience possible.

Both sides of my mind agree, even though their reasoning is different.

Finished with my clit, at least for now, the next pin pierces the center of my left nipple. Another one is pressed in at an angle. Mistress follows the same pattern on my right nipple. By the time Mistress finishes, her grinding has become frantic, and she is gasping for breath. My tongue works at her sex, giving her something more to press against.

I desire nothing more than my Mistress's body writhing on top of me in ecstasy.

Mistress cups my pin covered breasts with her calloused hands, and squeezes cruelly, grinding all of them deeper at the same time. A scream tears from my throat. Mistress freezes, pussy covering my mouth, body twitching in rapture. Mistress releases one breast. Mistress's now free hand abruptly slaps down between my legs sharply. At the sudden spike of agony, my screams peak. In the distance, she screams with me.

Her screams are filled with pleasure, and mine are filled with pain.

Mistress collapses against me. After a long moment, she relaxes, breathing heavily. I wait patiently; being underneath my Mistress fills me with contentment. It's where I belong. The cold part of my mind noting that I barely noticed the liquid coating my face. The scent of her musk. Her pussy. Fear and pain pushed me past it all.

I tell it to go fuck itself and leave me alone.

Mistress sits up and shifts so that she can see my face. "If you're curious, it took 75 pins. I wonder how many the next one will take?"

Mistress drops back into place, and the slow grind starts over.

Mistress pulls one of my pussy lips straight and tight, I scream when she slowly forces a needle through my labia. Mistress didn't pierce the thin width of my labia by piercing it from the side. Instead, Mistress went the other way, working the pin through the entire length of flesh.

It's a new level of torture. Like before, pain builds with the initial pressure, but this time there is no release. It just keeps growing until the pin's head reaches my skin. Mistress finishes with the first pin and picks up a second. Once the second one is in place, she picks up a third.

I no longer attempt to use my tongue to bring her pleasure. I'm not strong enough. Another fifth pin. A long helpless scream, followed by a few gasping moments of relief that abruptly end when the next one touches my labia. Screaming agony, followed by a blissful moment of peace.

When her second orgasm comes, both my labia are stretched tight. Both are filled with so many pins that even during the few moments it takes for Mistress to retrieve the next one, my breath comes ragged gasps.

Her body locks, trembling in ecstasy, then she collapses, blissfully squirming, driving the needles deeper. I whimper in anguished pain. Her lusty breathing slows.

I keep comparing my recent memories to the time before Mistress. So different. Now, my life is full of emotions and sensations. Intense and vivid, overwhelmingly so. Memories from before are flavorless and weak. Hollow.

They can't be real.

I must learn to ignore them.

Eventually, Mistress slides off. Once again, her eyes roam my exposed body, now covered with sewing pins. Mistress strokes some of the many needles piercing my body. Mistress begins to remove them, happily humming to herself. The pain is nothing compared to placing them.

Besides, I deserved the pain. I failed my Mistress. The last time she used my body, I hadn't been strong enough to please Mistress. I must improve myself. Learn to pleasure her as I should

Finished with the sewing pins, she puts them in a drawer. With an amused smile, she slowly walks towards me, holding up a new strapon.

The smaller one she used before had hurt so much, and this one was much larger. My panicked breathing is loud and fast. My heart thunders in my ears. I'm not strong enough to pleasure her while she uses that on my body!

Tears fill my eyes.

I couldn't bear to fail her again so soon.

Mistress's fingers slide through the slick fluid that coated my face. Mistress slides her wet fingers inside my mouth, and I suck them clean.

"Should I release you, relax on the bed, and enjoy an old-fashioned fuck. Slow and gentle at first, but hard and fast at the end. Does my little Twat want to fuck me to heaven?"

I quickly nod my head. Yes. Please! I wouldn't fail her.

Mistress releases me from the chains that bind me to the bed. Mistress hands me her strapon. Eyes-wide, I stare at it in shock. Hands trembling, I hug it to my chest. I wept, hardly able to believe Mistress would honor me so. Perhaps I didn't fail Mistress as badly as I thought I had?

Mistress lays back on the bed, eyes hooded, smirking up at me.

The straps confuse me at first, but I figure out how to put it on and move into the missionary position. In my false memories, it had always been my favorite because it was so intimate.

You can't help but look into your lovers' eyes.

Mistress's beautiful pussy smells heavenly. I spent some time lovingly exploring her labia with my tongue and gentle kisses. Mistress may have already been wet from before, but I would never again pass up the chance to please Mistress with my mouth.

Heart pounding, I gently slide in, trying to ignore the painful rubbing against my tender flesh. The sewing needles are no longer in my flesh, but hundreds of small wounds have been left on my pussy, and they make it far more sensitive than normal. I begin to gently rock. Making love to my Mistress.

"Look into my eyes."

Brown eyes sound so ordinary and dull, but Mistress's eyes are incredible. Dark and light shades dance in an intricate pattern that reminded me of hot chocolate swirled with caramel. Beautiful and sweet.

Mistress wraps her legs wrap around me, pulling me tight. Using my left hand to brace myself, I take her movement as a command and increase my pace.

One of my hands works between our bodies, running my fingers through her folds even as the strapon pounds painfully against my trapped hand. As before, I carefully minimize contact with her sensitive clit. When it was time, I would give that part of her my complete attention, but if I did that now, everything would end far too quickly.

Mistress deserves for this to last as long as possible. I wouldn't slow simply because my legs ached. The stitch in my side was a badge of honor. Like someone running a marathon, I pushed on, even as my body begged me to collapse.

Mistress rides me as I ride her, both of us gasping with pleasure. Her hands cup my bouncing breasts playing with them. My nipples are already hard and more sensitive than they had ever been before. Both from her cruel needles and from this intimate moment.

I whimper at the painful pleasure.

Suddenly feeling bold, I lean down and kiss my Mistress, she tastes incredible. My tongue explores her mouth, wordlessly begging her to stay with me. Mistress's hand cups my cheek, and I lean into the touch. I adjust my stance, using her legs for support.

From this position, I'm able to kiss my way down her neck, tongue lapping salty sweat from her skin. Suddenly, I realize that I've reached her breast. Mistress seems to be enjoying my service, so I gently suck and tease her nipple.

Thrusting into her, I move faster and faster. She rides the wave, but I hold my pleasure back. Mistress is more important. Mistress always comes first. Mistress cums first. When her body arching against me in rapture, fingernails carving her ecstasy into my back. I join her. Sobbing, tears falling.

Never before had I experienced anything so genuine and beautiful.

My burning legs collapse, and I fall against Mistress, panting with exhaustion, hoping I pleased her. We lay there in companionable silence. I drift off to sleep, gently stroking Mistress's body.

The sound of Mistress filling my water dish wakes me from my slumber. Mistress drops two raw potatoes into my food bowl before walking over and patting me on the head.

I'm happy she seems pleased.

"You are a good girl. The bed is yours, at least for now."

I grin, nodding happily.

"Excellently done. You earned an extra special treat. You may speak one sentence. I'll answer any question as truthfully as I can. Consider your words carefully. I may never give you another chance."

My cold mind has so many questions. Finally, it decides to ask about our location. I ignore its foolishness. Doesn't it understand that Mistress is the answer to everything?

I have no questions. Only one thing is worth saying.

"Mistress, I love you."

I could hardly believe that someone existed that could bring the world to life with such a powerful explosion of sensations. Everyone else lives in darkness, their lives hollow and meaningless.

I am the luckiest person in the world.

Mistress leans down and kisses me. Our tongues dance. I gently stroke my fingers along her skin, down her body. Mistress plays with my breasts, thumbs stroking my nipples until they harden.

Pinching my nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, she suddenly grinds her thumbnails into me. I whimper into her mouth. She pulls harder, twisting in opposite directions, and I scream. Her powerful fingers dig brutally into my breast. Cutting fingernails dig into my skin.

It seems impossible for so much pain to come from a couple fingers, but she is my Mistress. I'm sure Mistress can easily cause far more. As though she read my mind, Mistress's thumbnails break through my skin, and I writhe in agony.

After a long moment, she releases me.

I sit. Crying. The gouges from her fingernails slowly fill with blood. It drips down my breasts and onto my parted thighs.

She grabs my chin and forces me to look up into her eyes.

"Do you still love me?"

I start to nod my head, but this is too important. I meet Mistress's eyes. I need her to know that this isn't an accident and that I chose to speak even though she will punish me. I want Mistress to understand the truth of my words.

"Mistress, I'll always love you. You are the only real thing in all the world."

She smiles a contented smile, then walks to a drawer and takes out the strapon that caused me so much pain the first time I was blessed by her touch.

She sets it on the bed next to me and says, "Remind me to start with that when I return."

I nod. Happily. Mistress will return!

The cold half of my mind no longer feels emotionless. It's a burning furnace of rage. It hates Mistress, and anyone that doesn't love Mistress, it's my enemy. It's useless anyway. Selfish. Caring only about itself.

I ruthlessly destroy that part of me, ignoring it's agonized screams inside my head.

Mistress takes out a medial sterilizer and places all the sewing needles inside. While it runs, cleans everything else she used on me with hot soapy water. Then she leaves without saying another word.

By the time she finishes, I'm alone in my head.

A few seconds later, the lights go out.
The white room turns black.
I wait for her to return.
I want her to return.
I am nothing.
She is all.

My Mistress is the world.