Ginger Fox Part 2

I sob, biting the latex strip that gags my mouth. My vision, blurred by tears, tries to fix my eyes on my handcuffed hands, tied to the headboard of Jonathan's bed. I would have to be a damn liar if I said I wasn't curious to know what his room was like, but I should have suspected the tyrannical look on his face, staring at me from his balcony at two in the morning, while he invited me to go to his room. I didn't even look so much at the large tobacco wooden bed with black sheets, or at the other details of the decoration, but rather at the utensils displayed inside the open wardrobe, which were waiting for me. I could go, turn around and beat a hasty retreat, running back to my room, but damn curiosity is my downfall. I was still wondering if what happened inside my room was just a momentary thing or if it was some damn raw fetish I had. Looking into his deep, magnetic eyes, offering to satisfy all the unreasonable curiosity that inhabited me, was what I needed to shake my head in the affirmative, which would lead me to a path of no return. This made him open a wicked smile, full of luxurious promises. My brain works against me when Roy lets his hands rest on my body. He simply isolates himself and stops working, leaving me at the mercy of the demands of my pleasure. I am hooked by his after-shower lotion and nothing seems sexier than this man erect in his masculinity, wearing nothing more than black silk pajama pants, with his chest exposed, still damp, and hair wet from the shower. The purest testosterone, which exudes from every inch of this male, knocks me out. In the first round, I am already lying face down on the bed, with my wrists handcuffed and the chaste floral dress being lifted. The cool breeze, which enters from the balcony, hits my skin. In the second round, mouth gagged, shivers of anxiety and fear, and a look of satisfaction on his aristocratic face. He explains to me that I must bend my knees, dragging them close to my abdomen, and lower my head between my arms, hiding my face in the mattress. This will be my warning to Jonathan to stop my punishment, letting him know that I have reached my limit. Roy talks about my punishment in a soft tone, explaining as if to a child, that kneeling for another man makes him angry. I try to reason about what he says, to remember when I knelt for someone, but it is difficult to bring up my memories at the same time that Jonathan caresses my raised ass for him. My body feels the sting of the leather as it cracks against my skin. There was no warning, no preparation, just the shock and burning of being whipped. Both my toes and fingers twitch, and I bite hard on the latex in my mouth, as if I could cut it. The first tears run down my cheeks, but immediate relief comes at the touch of his hand, massaging the affected area. My back retracts as the leather tip of the whip slides down my spine, contouring my hips inclined towards Jonathan. My breath catches, pulling my wrist as the light slap of the leather hits between my legs, above my clitoris. Along with the pain, the most carnal pleasure grows, and this takes me to the canvas, accepting each lash he delivers to my buttocks, leaving me completely hot and excited, longing for the burn of the leather as well as the caress that his hands give me. The mischievous fingers move between the swollen lips of my masochistic vagina. The tone of his heavy breathing, the sound of the whip, which hits faster and harder, deceives me between his stolen caresses, only to dominate my demons. I submit and surrender until there is nothing left but a state of nirvana.
" Do you want to stop, little Nautilus? "I hear her voice through the haze of pleasure and burning. My body is sweaty, positioned on all fours on the bed, my head resting between my arms.

Something in the background is urging me to bend my knees and crawl, until my body bends in surrender, but I'm floating. My mind wanders far away, only feeling shock waves that cut through me, both of pain and delight, and it's these that make my head lift, stiffening my arms and digging my nails into the palms of my hands as much as they can, cracking the headboard of the bed.
I want it all!
"My good girl." His voice, full of desire, comes hoarse from his lips, as he pulls my hair, forcing my head back, until my eyes are fixed on the ceiling. He takes me all at once, skin to skin, his swollen balls slapping hard against my flesh. I suck his cock as much as I can inside my pussy.
Yes, I'm his good girl. At this moment I'm anything he orders me to be: slave, submissive, masochist, just to have the discharge of waves of pleasure assault me. I choke on my saliva as his intruding finger slips into my anus, fucking it in the same way his cock bursts into my womb. I flare my nostrils to breathe, interspersed with moans. The pulling becomes more intense when his hand twists my hair between them, until it is so tight that he can pull it out with a single pull. He fucks me impetuous, wild, out of control, with his dominant mode fully activated. The sneaky bite on my ear is absorbed in shivers and shocks from having his hurried breathing close to my skin, but nothing has me as turned on as his hoarse voice, whispering near my ear:
"The next time you kneel, it will be to swallow every drop of my cum, Ginger." Jonathan sinks, propelling my body forward when he feels the thud, gluing his skin to my burning ass.
This brings the opposite of pain and discomfort. I'm so sensitive and hot that I just melt between low sobs, absorbing the friction of the skin being rubbed.
" Don't make that mistake again, Gim. That little body of yours of pleasure belongs only to a Master. — The intruding finger inside my ass withdraws, torturing me with slow movements of his cock inside me.
I want to scream, tear my throat to extract every sound of pleasure and of what brings me torment. Jonathan lowers his hips a little, in slow and continuous entries. Having him slowly inside me is almost death. My whole body yearns for release, begging amid the tears of pleasure that run down my face. His cock invades me in a calm beat, in a tortuous back and forth, and when he abandons me almost completely, it is only to return deep and hard with his rigid cock, guaranteeing his possession with his fingers trapped in my curls.
"Let me know that you understand, little Nautilus? " I cry twice as much when he bends my neck back, with his firm grip on my curls, forcing me to look at him.
I inhale his scent as his face approaches, letting the tip of his tongue run down my cheek, capturing the tears in a single lick. His blue eyes shine with infernal desire, smiling wickedly, as if his taste buds approved of the tears mixed with my sweat. This is where I lose myself. My being vibrates for being able to satisfy Roy, as much as his evil demon is happy to taste my tear. So majestic in his power over me, my chest swells with desire, giving him his answer with a slight swing of my hips. The loud sound of the open hand slap on my ass is accompanied by a broken scream, which escapes my mouth gagged with latex. Roy forces the mattress, lifting his leg and positioning it next to my thigh, holding my hip with both hands, relieving my scalp, which is freed, fucking me aggressively. Oh, yes! My body understands and accepts his possession the moment he withdraws again, returning with force with each accelerated thrust, as uncontrolled as the shock waves that hit me, taking me into the free fall between pleasure, where one orgasm ends and another begins.