LOGINI just came apart without penetration. Really felt my whole body shake.
“𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘧𝘶𝘹𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶?” My ex-boyfriend says multiple times. I lift and look up at Banks, tears threatening to drop. “Thank…” I try to appreciate but fall back when he pushes three fingers inside me at once. My hands grab the sheets in response. “FFFFUUUCCK!” I lift my body up but my head back falls on the bed as he rolls his fingers in me while his other hand grabs my breast. "Mine to destroy," he says, thrusting fast and brutal. Far different from the earlier one. He continues the painful and pleasurable thrust of three fingers in my pussy while fondling my breast like he wants to milk it dry. “Damn,” his curse is deep and rough. Edged with want and impatience. Letting go of my tit, he pulls my legs onto his shoulders and rolls his fingers inside me, thumb stroking my clitoris. My eyes roll and I dig my nails into his wrist, yet he doesn’t stop. He keeps his eyes on me like my disembodiment is a pleasure to him. “Filthy cunt for me,” he lowers himself to face me, making his fingers go knuckle deep in me, cutting my insensible blabbering as he pushes deeper in me, then SLAP. The sting blossoms on my tit. “Yes… yes… yes!” My heavy moans and grunts fill the room, joining the slurping sound of his thrusts. I push back toward him because my body stops consulting me on its decisions. I feel another wave rising. “My…Master…” I grab the sheet when I feel him reach the hilt of my pussy, digging the soles of my feet into his back and grabbing his hair as he goes rogue in me. “Fuck!” I scream as another release hits. My cum drips down my thigh while I shake against him. I move my body up and down, taking as much of him as I can while my orgasm rolls out. He stops. The sudden absence of his hands and weight is a void I feel immediately. “Hands on the bed. Ass to me.” I move without question. I can’t locate the part of myself that would argue. I can’t wait for his dick inside me, and his husky, deep voice shows he feels the same. But he doesn’t push into me as expected. I turn my head and watch him walk to the wall, where he presses a button, and the walls rattle a bit. Something grips my chest tight as I watch the rail he is holding earlier drop down, revealing a grid iron bar. “Master…” The word drops like a tiny plea as the iron bar descends fully. It divides the width of the bed from the rest of the room: lined with four rows, spaced enough to contain the shape of an ass pushed out. Banks wheels another tray to the edge of the bar. From my periphery, I catch sight of what’s on it: cuffs, a whip. My throat goes dry, and I turn fully. He’s now only in his briefs, which snag against his groin so tightly my nipples go taut. I look at the tray again: a leather belt, nipple clamps, a huge cock simulator, mouth gag, and different toys I don’t think I’m ready to have used on me fill it. “Master..” He’s holding an almost empty alcohol bottle. “Position.” Oh, fuck me. This looks like a bad decision. Regardless, I obey and face forward. The wall before me is lined with a frameless portrait: a mist-covered forest, dark and still. My knees and elbows press into the bed. My back is arched, ass pushed out, ears are open to every sound behind me and my heartbeat finds a new rhythm: One heavy slam of heartbeat. Three seconds of silence. Another drop that grips my chest and echoes in my ears. Three more seconds of silence. "I.... "I am rethinking this, but a smaller, hungry part of me wants to have him do everything to me. Use every tool in his arsenal. My body shakes as the residue of my orgasm rolls. I move my hand lower and flap it. The ghost of air does nothing to ease the burning pain and pleasure coiling in my pussy. “Spread your legs, you slut.” Tremors rush through me at the vulgarity. I lower myself then stop still, watching something drop down against the portrait while something thick slips into my hole. My head falls to the bed and I clench, while the cold pressure mounts against my pussy walls. “Master.” My breathing quickens as he pushes the cold object deeper. Finally, the portrait is replaced by a large mirror. I blink twice, it’s real and the image staring back at me is a stranger. I look ready to be fucked. In the reflection, I see him… and finally what’s pushing inside me. “Mmmmm mmmm, Master, please,” I moan, moving forward to escape the intrusion. He isn’t holding my hair, nor am I restrained, but I look at the mirror and it’s confirmed: he’s thrusting a whiskey bottle inside me. “You can say stop,” is all he says. My heart drops. I don’t want to chicken out. I look at him through the mirror and clench against the bottle till it aches. Banks smiles then pushes it deeper. “Take it, you cunt.” I lift my ass, and he groans as the bottle deepens until its shoulder touches my skin. “Look how well your cunt holds a half-of-a-million-dollar scotch.” I do and I’m met with the image of a deer on a long whiskey bottle. Its bottom sits on the bed while its head disappears inside. Behind me, he moves. I watch the mirror as he picks up cuffs and spreads my legs wider, locking both feet to the iron bars. He raises his hand to pull down a rope, then takes my hands behind me and straps a leather belt around my neck. My head jerks back, but he stops my skull from spilling against the iron. “Fuck me, Master.” Now my wrists are bound above me, velvet cuffs soft against my pulse points, arms stretched behind me by a suspension rope, my ass pressing against the iron bars. There is enough room to shift, but nowhere to go and it makes me hot. I look down at the whiskey bottle pressing into my pussy and get wet. My heartbeat races as the realization hits that I’m having a sexual moment I never imagine. I look at him through the mirror; he’s staring back, whiskey glass in hand, legs crossed, one hand in his pocket as he watches me bound. He twirls the drink, the ice in it a soft sound that pulses underneath my skin. A faint smile is on him like my helplessness is somehow more consuming than anything. He looks so satisfied. “Fuck,” I close my mouth at the slip of a groan then look up at his face. He’s walking closer. I look back down for confirmation. Fuck me. He stops right behind me and his dick rests on my ass cheeks. BANKS POV If there’s something more intoxicating than this mound of beauty that’s bound and ready for me, I don’t want it. She is unknowingly grinding on the bottle I place on the bed, pushing it deeper into her cunt. I am watching her juices line the glass, dripping into the remains of my Dalmore 62. I build this room for control. Every element is chosen because it produces a predictable result so nothing surprises me, but Eleanor is surprising me and I am being careful with her. I grab the leather around her throat, and her ass presses against the bar. I should pull tighter like always, but the fractured breath she releases and the way she moves stop me. “Stay.” She takes well to orders so I know she won’t move. I let go of her hair and withdraw the bottle. She trembles with a shaky grumble. “Fffuccck, fuck me, Master.” So fucking needy. She talks like a professional slut, and it gets me harder each time, just like now. “Soon, Anor.” I grab her ass cheeks. I’ve never felt something so full. They fill my palms until they spill. I spread her ass cheeks apart, resisting the urge to bite them. That will be fucking intimate—I slap, cut, whip, not bite or lick something other than pussy and breast. I watch her wetness slip down, and take it with the tip of my cock. Then sheath myself in a condom, and position myself into her. I shiver. I stop still when a zip sizzles down my arms from the pleasure and pressure. Fuck. Just the tip and I feel so hot. “More please,” my palm connects with the fullness of her ass and she lets out a gasp. I slap her ass again, it bounces and I watch the fine print of my fingers on it. I do it again, she shakes. I grab her bound wrist and push deep at once inside her. “Yeyyyesss,” her loud scream mirrors my need to scream. So fucking good. Heat wraps my head, I pull out then thrust back in until my cock is sitting deeply in her. My groin connects with the iron bars with each stroke, driving the pleasure into my bones. Her breathless moans turn into muffled tears. I grip the leather around her neck, watching her throat bob with difficulty, I loosen it a bit, stroking my thumb on the flesh. “Such sweet cunt,” my thrusts quicken and I know I am driving in too hard for someone so tight. But I am too overtaken to stop—unless she uses her safe word. My eyes catch sight of her breasts bouncing from the mirror. “Pleeeease,” Her eyes roll, ass bouncing; matching my thrusts through the bars. I press my leg into the space between the bar and deepen my thrusts, her tears a driving force. I should keep quiet, squeeze the leather around her throat, grab the whip at my arm's length and map her body with it with each thrust… I don’t. “Tell me if it’s too much,” I ask instead, like she’s a partner. “It’s not,” shit! I look at her and see myself on the edge of a cliff. My mouth finds the side of her neck and I bite it, pushing myself deeper I hit a point that makes me weak. My grip tightens on her throat and I give a single deep thrust inside her. She cries. “Whose whore?” My breath raises the hairs on her neck, and I lick, soaking the salty taste of her tears. “Yours master,” another deep thrust. “Good girl,” My pace increases, a low sound leaving me that vibrates through me. Sounds of bodies slamming into each other fill the room like never before. Her body starts shaking as she rolls her eyes. “Let go,” she comes undone, squirting through the thrusts and on the bed. SLAP. My palm connects with her ass, it bounces “Please..” She grabs the suspension bar behind her as her release rolls out and I grab her breast because I have to hold something as my hips drive into her. My pace becomes relentless, through her orgasm. Mine builds in layers and I feel myself shaking. ELEANOR POV His release is guttural and unguarded. Pride swells in me as I watch this controlled man throw his head back, one hand on my breast, another on my throat as he slams into me, reaching that point that makes my eyes roll. I am convinced it’s my G-spot because this orgasm is intense. Finally, he withdraws completely without eye contact, making my body slump forward like a used slut. He disappears into a room while I stay where I am, face pressed into expensive sheets, bound like a slave. I smile, my self-pity taking a back seat. My cunt tingles with satisfaction. Six rounds and I orgasmed through them all. He returns, stands right in front of me and turns on the bright lights. His eyes move around mine, looking indecisive. “Mast…” He leans forward and consumes my mouth. A deep, teeth-clashing and tongue-gripping kiss. Then he lets go, making my mind scramble for what happened. Then he releases the chains, standing tall in front of me while I adjust to my new freedom. “On your back.” He can’t be serious. I look through his eyes and obey—he’s fucking serious. He takes his dick and strokes it, beads of cum wrapping the tip. He lowers himself and grabs my tit into his mouth. “Master.. Fff,” I let go of myself as he continues sucking. The slick sound of his hand stroking his dick and my moans fill the room. I grab his hair and he bites my nipple. When a groan slips from him, he lifts up quick and releases on top of my stomach. The warmth drips down the folds of my stomach. Big stomach and I want to hide. He looks down at it—at the fat of my stomach, saying nothing. He’ll hate he slept with someone unhealthy. My heart rate quickens and I lift myself up to run. “Flat.” With a racing heart, I lower my back to the bed. He bends and licks his cum off me. My mouth falls open and I stop breathing. He actually does that. It is eleven p.m. when he accepts he is tired and has had enough of me. Staggering, I pick up my dress, leaving the ruin of my pantyhose to whoever will clean here. I am still feeling the pain, pleasure and sticky reality of what just happened. “You’ll be driven home,” he says, picking up a magazine with his dangling dick as if he hadn’t just wrecked me. “And brought back here after you close tomorrow.” Before I can protest, my phone pings. An alert: $10,000 deposited. “Come straight here from work, Anor.” “So… like…you’ll be fucking me whenever you want?” My voice is small and throat clogged. I thought this was a one-time thing. He finally looks at me. “Do you have a problem with it?” My eyes find his lips and I remember how he licked his cum off my stomach folds in the light. The same folds people call ugly. “I… I’d like to think about it.” He stays silent. The silence is so suffocating I beat a retreat for the door. In the living room, the opulence hits me again. It is a statement of power. I head out into the night. AUTHOR'S NOTE: It gets more BDSMyyy. What tool do you want to see him use? There's Wax, Bounding, exhibition, obsession, edging, somno, hand stock etc. Comment what you want."It's over." Carlton says, though low and soft. "Yet we still want each other," she replies him, taking another step. Just one more step and she will close the gap between them entirely. "I have no one to call mine." Carlton's shoulders drop at her words. Annetta's face softens, the fierce, unyielding woman vanishing in an instant, replaced by someone who looks fragile, almost broken."Please... please be someone I can call mine," she whispers. My heart breaks for her right then. Carlton stands completely still, Annetta waits, and I find myself holding my breath alongside everyone else in the room."What's he waiting for?" Anthony questions under his breath, leaning forward in his chair."C'mon, marry her!" Elizabeth thunders from our table."Say yes, Carlton!" I add, unable to hold back. A ripple of nervous laughter breaks out among the nearby guests."Stop playing hard to get, man," Anthony chimes in.Finally, Carlton moves. A collective, rhythmic exhale echoes through the seating
Banks continues stroking my thigh."You're not saying anything," I note, he looks into my eyes. "Are you hurt?""Definitely not," I murmur."Then there's nothing to say.""Your friend is going through a full-blown life crisis, Banks," I whisper, nodding toward the altar. He glances at the bewildered priest who is practically pleading with Carlton, then shifts his gaze to Annetta, who stands there holding a wedding ring meant for an entirely different bride."He'll be fine""I don't think so," I counter, watching the tension radiate across the room."At least he won't be a slave or die," Banks remarks deeply, his fingers digging a little deeper into the curve of my thigh, squeezing with delicious possessiveness. "What does that...." "Since I'm pregnant for him, I'll marry him," Annetta announces, her voice carrying across the silent hall.Carlton moves so fast the air seems to shift with him. In a blur, he wraps a hand tightly around her neck, lifting her until her feet leave the fl
"Save my soul." "How could he?" "He's a cheater." "Such recording In a house of God! Lord have mercy, this boy is cursed to the bone." "My, my." More gasps circle the room as the image becomes crystal clear. It was unedited security footage. Carlton and Anetta are actively fucking. "This is low even for Carlton" Elizabeth sneers beside me, casually gulping her champagne. "Fucking hell, Carlton" Anthony scream, though it sounded more like a cheer. I, on the other hand, fist my dress, squirming on my seat to control the uncontrollable wave of sensation Banks is inciting in me. "Please..." I grab his wrist, but he just push deeper, leaning closer to me. "Stop me one more time," he whisper, his threat low and vibrating, "and you'll be screaming for everyone in this hall to hear." My hand falls from his wrist. I didn't believe for a second that he will actually do that in public, at a billionaire's wedding venue no less, but I can't put anything past him at this point. "You f
"WHAT?" people gasp in unison as a young, curvaceous woman begins to walk down the central aisle. She's wearing a white dress that looks suspiciously like a wedding gown. The dress clung to her, accentuating her wide hips. Its sleeves made of delicate lace, and a massive diamond necklace glittered against her throat under the chandelier lights. "Finally, something dramatic," Anthony jokes, sounding genuinely amused. "Get her out of here!" Massimo shrieks, his face turning a destructive shade of purple. But not a single guard moves- I can't even see any guards, except for two large men and a woman who are walking purposefully behind the objector as she strides toward the altar. "For... For what reason?" The priest stutters. On the projector, Carlton's face turn red and hard, while Anastasio pushes at his shoulder, speaking. "I'm carrying his child," the woman announces. Another wave of gasps rippled through the congregation. "This is getting interesting," Anthony muse, whil
ELEANOR POV The heavy double doors of the Grand Ballroom swing open, revealing a room drenched in dark botanical extravagance- black orchids, floating crystal chandeliers, and deep forest-green velvet. "Wow." The involuntary gasp escaped me before I could stop it. "This wedding venue is gorgeous, Banks." I feel Banks look down at me. "You think so?" "Obviously. Look at the chandeliers, the lighting, the chairs. Though, personally, I would have preferred an oceanic backdrop to a forest." Banks halts his stride, looking down at me with an unreadable, faint curve of his mouth. "An oceanic backdrop.... Is that so?" He seem amused. I stop gawking at the ceiling and look up at him. "Yes. But this place is so pretty" He holds my gaze and I exhale slowly. "You don't think it's pretty?" "I didn't," he says, his voice a low rumble, "until you pointed out its beauty." We are standing in the center of the room; a sea of white tulle and dark suits swirling around us, but I fee
Eleanor POV "Fuck," I want to say more than the gasp that leaves me. I want to explain, but my brain is running on pure, blinding heat and the invasive, maddening pressure of the glass bottle still shoved deep inside me. Not like it's a good idea to say Dean is the one who taught me the combo the day we signed the contract. I quite appreciate he's not checking the cameras every single minute. "Your legs over my shoulders, your hand in my hair" I lean back for space then obey as requested. He buries his face between my thighs through the my release, his tongue doing more than I can comprehend. "No one but mine" Another slap lands between my thighs, molting my body into immense outpour of need. "Banks... please, I beg you..." He ignores my plea and slaps my thighs again. The impact forces the bottle deeper, twisting the knife of my arousal. It’s torture. My ears are ringing, my nipples are throbbing against the cold glass table, same with the cold press of the bottle's neck and th
ELEANOR I’m not a nun. I’m not a virgin. So when he looked at me, kissed me and said driver will pick me up- I knew I'm here to get fucked. And here I am, standing in a room that's bathed in deep red lighting. Whips, chains, and cuffs line the walls with toys I've never seen but can't wait to
BANKS POV The moment I step inside this perfume store, a sweet voice wrapped in fury greets me. She is facing off against a typical, entitled customer. "Customers are always right!" the man, maybe fifty years old and puffing with self-importance, barks. "That's a getaway mantra for retards with no o
ELEANOR POV Fucking a man is a humiliation ritual unless he’s worth something: beauty, money, influence... or a good dick. Banks has it all and he's quite good with them. All. My request for "time to think" isn't because I’m looking for a relationship. Men like him don't do "girlfriends." But being
Banks is leaning against his sofa; relaxed and expecting. I should sign but all I can think of is WHAT LED US HERE? WHY ME? WHAT BROUGHT US TOGETHER? WHAT WENT WRONG... Or is it right? "Sign," he orders like it's a statement and I look at him. I sit back on the chair, the folder right on my lap wa







