Mabel Shot

The path of pleasure in the human brain is not simple, but it is not that complicated or rocket science either. We all have almost universal triggers to induce pleasure: affection, kisses, hugs, romance and surrender. However, there are people whose pleasure is only triggered by more specific situations. There are some things or situations that we like because we are programmed to like them, educated, indoctrinated to learn how to find personal satisfaction with them: smiling, being sociable, making friends, having a decent job; and there are other aspects of our lives that are essential to our existence: eating, drinking water and procreating. But there are also other things that we learn to enjoy, that we have been programmed to respond to the slightest and smallest trigger. For some, pain is unbearable, something that is avoided at all costs, but for me it is my chaos, my hell, but the only thing that leads me to true pleasure.
Sweaty body, glued together, with perspiration running down every inch of my skin. My heart rate accelerated, with my chest rising and falling rapidly, my nipples aching, not because they had been pinched and groped so brutally, but because of the hunger of his mouth, which sucked them several times, torturing me between bites and sucking. The immobilization of my open arms, with my body stretched out on the table, makes my muscles feel slight spikes of pain. My clitoris, which throbs with a sensitive nerve and is still swollen from my last orgasm.
“Ohhh, fuck!” I scream, feeling the tears run down my cheeks as the ends of the leather whip’s straps scrape against my pussy, making me retract and suck the small rubbery silicone object, smeared with Vaseline, that my terrible and sexy executioner inserted into me, even deeper into my anus.
I feel the tingling in my feet, which twist, with my legs spread. The stretched groin, with burning in the curves of the thighs, completely open, raised, trapped on the side of the iron bars that are in the lower corners of the padded table, making the leather on my ankles burn my skin even more, as well as the ones on my wrists tighten with each jolt of the table when his hips hit my pelvis hard, burying his cock inside my pussy. He slowly withdraws, repeating the same movements that are torturing me, and because of the absurd amount of dopamine I receive, it makes me have the illusion that I am tied up, being fucked by him for an eternity. My chest thrusts forward, making my back come off the table, levering myself upwards, but I keep my head stuck to the upholstered table. But this time it is not with a collar that he immobilizes me, but with a box. Maybe, if I hadn't been so fucking soft because of his tongue, which took the air from my lungs when he sucked me in such a promiscuous way, bringing me to orgasm, I would have been able to foresee that the box in his hand, when he approached me, would be a trap. Foolishly, I thought that his punishment applied to me was the small anal plug. But it wasn't. And thinking about it now, the fucking plug was just a bonus of the oral sex he gave me. My real punishment is a wooden box a little bigger than a 14-inch television, covered in leather on the inside, with small holes, with the correct contour of a neck to accommodate it when it is closed over the head, and only darkness with a few points of light through its miserable holes greeted me when Mr. Gregovivk closed it and left my head immobilized inside it. My eyes blink rapidly, trying to get used to the darkness in which he holds me. The muffled air of my breathing, which is getting faster, and the oxygen slowly falling with each sob I release, with the whip of straps hitting the nipples of my breasts. Yes, his playroom is definitely a dungeon, and he is my executioner, who controls my depraved soul.
"Shit!" I scream, writhing, breathing faster, unable to keep my slow inhalations of air.
His cock explodes deep, shocking and sinking inside me, fucking me harder, increasing the thrusts. I feel everything with more euphoria. The heat of the box, which makes it difficult for me to breathe, the nipples of my breasts that are throbbing as if each one had a wild heart beating, my pussy being invaded fiercely, with him fucking me hard, and the plug buried inside my ass, being compressed by the inner walls of my organ. I moan louder when I feel the tip of his tongue slide over my big toe, nibbling my foot with malice. His movements slow down, with only the sound of my uncontrollable breathing reaching my ears. My body struggles with distress, hating him for stopping moving again.
“Lord... Lord,” I say with ragged breaths and cries of desperation, I want him to give me what I need, I beg himI pray for him to let me cum.
He doesn't speak, he punishes me even more with his silence, refusing to touch him, kiss him or see his face.
Waking up naked in a bed I had never slept in was only not as strange as opening my eyes and seeing him sitting in the armchair next to the bed, watching me. His brown eyes were dark. I heard his voice only once when he said good morning and told me that there was a new toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom, that I could wash my face, that he would wait for me. Everything went through my head, a scolding for having reprimanded him on the phone, even a spanking and at most a spanking on the ass for not having denied his aunt's prank call last night. But Mr. Gregovivk didn't do any of that. However, I knew something was going to happen when I left the bathroom and saw him standing in the middle of the room, waiting for me. He left the room and I followed him like an obedient little dog, who even though I knew I was in trouble, still followed him, fearful but at the same time curious about the punishment. The butterflies in my stomach when I recognized the door to the erotic dungeon were only surpassed by the internal throbbing that took over my vagina when I knew where I was going.
And here I am, tied up like a lamb for slaughter, with my arms and legs restrained, being fucked by him without a shred of mercy, and to top it off with a black box holding my head inside it. And I thought that masturbating under the bed made me weird.
Czar took my fetish for suffocation to another level.
"Oh, God!" I bite my lip and shake my head from side to side, screaming in euphoria and pleasure when his cock starts moving again.