Self Help Destruction

I crawled forward, my head between her thighs, and licked. Her scent was rich and intoxicating, and I basked in the heat radiating from her sex. I felt her fingers slide into my hair again, pushing me into her. Nose to chin, I was pressed against her wetness. I lapped at her pussy, first slowly, then getting a rhythm I went faster. She tasted salty, sweet, heady. I lifted a hand to dip my fingers into her. She clamped her thighs tight onto my head "no hands yet, darling" I continued just licking. I was making the most obscene slurping sounds, in between my ragged breath between her thighs, and I could hear her let out a sigh and a groan. Without warning the belt hit my ass again. I jumped, but her thighs' iron grip and tight fistful of my hair kept me in place. The whipping continued as I sucked, slurped, licked faster. My lips wrapped around her clitoris as I flicked my tongue over the sensitive tip. She shuddered. Whipped me harder. I nibbled on her labia, slid my tongue down and circled her opening, then drove it in as deep as I could. My nose was pressing against the hood of her clit, she wriggled. I curled the tip of my tongue up, popped it back out of her hole, pulling a scoop of her wetness with me. It dribbled down my chin. I pressed a series of kisses up the length of her mound, then back down. She landed the belt onto my ass with each kiss. The pain barely registered, I was concentrating at the task at hand. My tongue was beginning to ache though, and I desperately needed a few free long breaths of air, which is difficult to manage with a face-full of hot wet womanhood. Finally her thighs loosened, her hand released, and I drew my head back. Her pussy was practically glowing in deep crimson with arousal, dripping and glistening with saliva and her boiling hot juices. I drew in a lungful of fresh air. Her wetness on my nose and cheeks and lips and chin quickly cooling in the outside air, her musky scent lingering on me. As I rose back up to sit back on my knees, she leaned forward and planted a deep kiss. Our lips parted, and she said in a shaky voice "Let's get you cleaned up for bed."

She stood up, me still kneeling directly at her feet, and she pulled & straightened her dress back into position. She lifted my tie off her neck and dropped in onto my pile of clothes. She then tugged at the leash, I stood and was lead into the bathroom. While I walked, I couldn't help but notice how bad my bottom burned. Would I have welts from this? If walking hurt so bad, how would it feel to sit at my desk all day tomorrow?

Her bathroom was quaint; black & white ceramic tile, French blue walls, wrought-iron fixtures. Claire sat on a small padded bench near the shower, I stood before her. She slipped her foot out of her high heel shoe & raised her leg, toes pointed toward me, and unfastened the suspender clips on her garter. Gingerly, I grasped the top of the stocking & rolled it down her leg, over her svelte calf muscle, over her heel & off her delicious little foot. We did the same with the other leg. She stood & turned, and anticipating her next request I pulled the zipper down the back of her dress. She tugged the dress down off her hips and let it hit the floor. Her garter belt came next whilst I watched; admiring her curves and supple pale skin. Still facing away from me, she hooked her thumbs into the top of her panties and pushed them down over her luscious thighs. They fell to the floor and she stepped out & walked to the shower.

She hadn't taken my leash so I wasn't sure if I was meant to follow. I took the chance to admire her then, fully nude; her breasts were large but immaculately shaped, dappled with freckles and peaked with taut, light red nipples. Her tummy was flat and her waste narrow, and then her hips flared out again, forming an exaggerated hourglass shape. She had body fat, but it was in all the right places. Smooth, graceful curves. Perfection. Carved from marble. Between her thighs rose a small neatly-trimmed patch of fire-red pubic hair, and of course below that was the blushing little heaven to which I'd already become quite familiar. It was still reddened and puffy from my oral ministrations. Her snapping fingers brought me back from my stare, and I hastily stepped up to meet her. "Into the shower." she ordered. I complied.

The water wasn't running yet, and I stood at the back of the stall to make room for her. She stepped in, pulled the curtain behind her. She unclipped the leash from my collar and tossed it outside the tub. Without warning she smacked my face hard. It was more surprising than painful, and I tried not to flinch when her hand came in for another smack. My eyes were beginning to water, my cheek stung. Two more smacks on the other side, followed by three more increasingly hard onto each cheek. My ears were ringing, my whole face burned, and I was even a little dizzy. "Kneel" and I did. Her lovely little mound was at eye level, and I leaned in to give it a kiss. She caught me by the hair and pulled my head back. She pulled the top of my head backward and down, tilting my face up so that I was looking straight upward, and she stepped in so close I could feel her pubic hair brush against my chin. From this angle, I could see her lovely face staring down at me, up past her belly, and between the undersides of her round breasts. An incredible view. She raised an eyebrow. I felt a warm sensation on my neck, then it flowed down to my chest, spreading as it went. Warm and wet. It took me a moment to realize she was urinating on me. I could smell it now; salty and a bit sour, mingled with the musky scent of her sex, and it continued to flow down my body, my stomach, my thighs, to the base of my dick, around my balls. She swayed gently as she relieved herself onto me, covered my shoulders and it ran down my ams. I was still staring up at her, and she had closed her eyes, her mouth slightly agape, she was becoming aroused from pissing on me, and I hated to realize that I was as well.

Once she had drained herself, she stepped back, turned her back to me, and started the shower. I remained kneeling, her pee dripping from me. I wasn't sure what to do. The shower's warm water sprayed down, covered her chest, flowed down her front. Her ass swayed gently left and right as she let the water run over her, and she slowly rotated to wet her back and butt. She was careful to keep her hair tightly bunned from getting wet. Her body blocked the shower from hitting me directly and as desperate as I was to rinse the urine off of me, I didn't dare move. She handed me a bottle of body soap and a flower-shaped scrub pouffe, and I went to work washing her. It was divine labor, rubbing the soap onto her legs, back, butt, arms, shoulder, and so on, then gently scrubbing & rinsing it off. I had to stand up to reach her top bits, but she didn't admonish me. Once I'd cleaned her thoroughly, spending a generous amount of time on her breasts, ass, and pussy, she took the pouffe from me, soaped it up and ordered me to get under the shower's spray.

She carefully washed me, though she was a bit rough with the scrubbing. She seemed especially determined to clean my face, balls, dick (which was still hard and especially sensitive to he touch) and my ass crack. She saved that until last and used a copious amount of soap, running her fingers up and down, then deeper in, even jabbing a soapy finger into my asshole. Her fingernail hurt, and I jerked away. She gave my butt a smack. I turned in the flowing water to rinse, then she reached past me to switched the shower off. I held her hand to provide balance as she stepped out of the tub. She took a towel dried herself; slowly, sensually, blotting every inch of her skin. She handed the towel to me, and I dried myself. Not doing nearly as good a job as her at looking sexy while doing it. Not that it mattered- she wasn't watching. She had slipped her heels back on & walked out the door. I hung the towel on the rail and followed her into the short hallway. She turned right- away from where we'd come in from the living room.

A woman's body dressed in nothing but a pair of black high heels is quite an exquisite vision. Especially from behind. Into the bedroom I followed her. She switched on a small bedside lamp, casting long shadows throughout, The room was mostly adorned in dark cherry wood, with gray-striped walls and a dark burgundy duvet spread over a wide, high bed. Amongst the various dressers and tables stood a tall wardrobe-like cabinet, with two heavy wooden doors. It looked out of place; old and thick and heavy and rough, in contrast to the modern smooth lines of th rest of the furniture. It was at this cabinet she waited for me.

I came and stood next to her as she worked the latch & swung open the doors. Bright lights came on from within. "Hold out your hands." I did. She placed a heavy steel tray on my hands, so big it took up most of my forearms as well. The tray had a mirrored finish, and suddenly I became aware again of our nudity, reflected straight up at us, exaggerated by the lights from inside the wardrobe. My chest, and hers. In the reflection I also noticed several odd and surreal shapes; items hanging in the wardrobe and on its doors. I looked up and immediately realized what they were. I shuddered. Claire was perusing over them, finger on her lip, as if she were trying to decide what to buy for dinner. Except these weren't groceries. They were sex toys. Torture toys. An entire collection of rather terrifying devices for S&M pleasure. Many of them I didn't recognize; strange harnesses, different sorts of utensils and tools. All were hanging as neatly and carefully as anexpert craftsman might keep his tools. The cabinet was lined in deep red velvet. Some items sat on glass shelves or little velvet pillows, others hung from silver hooks. The whole spread was intimidating.

She began to pick out the implements presumably she planned to use on me; dildos (of various shapes & sizes), vibrators, a bullwhip, a paddle, a flog (or cat o nine-tails, I think), a polished wooden dowel, some shiny silver clips of some sort, a strange little silver handle culminating in a small wheel of nasty little needle-sharp spikes, a switchblade, a rubber ball, various belts and harness, a coil of rope, some chain, and bottle of lubricant. Having made her selections, she closed the cabinet door. The tray was getting heavy. Looking over its contents, I was becoming nervous. She lifted a small leather and steel harness of sorts from the tray and held it up to the light. It was built around a thick metal ring, with a few strips of studded leather woven around it in sort of a crude basket shape, with another leather loop at the front. Some smaller silver rings were riveted at certain points to the leather. "Stand still." she commanded, and then knelt before me. Under the tray, I could no longer see her or the strange harness. I felt her hands on my genitals. My cock had softened while she was loading up her tray, and I was a little shy about it. Nevertheless I didn't move. Her hand grasped my scrotum tightly and pulled down. It hurt. I felt her single out one testicle and feed it through the larger metal ring on the harness, and then my other ball was pulled through. She then took my soft prick and forced it through the same ring, so that when she had finished, the ring rested firmly against my body, balls and dick beyond it. My scrotum was fed into the little leather basket, and the leather loop fitted around the shaft of my penis. Then warmth and wetness enveloped me. Her mouth was on my cock, I could feel her tongue glide down the underside, her lips wrapped around tight. I began to harden instantly. Despite the ache in my arms from her tray, despite the uncomfortable steel and leather contraption on my package, I was becoming aroused. Her mouth glided down and back up to the tip of my dick, then made a naughty little wet pop as she released her suction. The rush of cool air on the head, and then the heat of her mouth on it again. Claire sucked hard, it stiffened more, so hard now it was painful in the stirrup, and she was having difficulty keeping her lips around it. She released it, came back out from under the tray and stood up. A look of satisfaction on her face as she pointed to a table at the foot of the bed and I placed the loaded tray down upon it, careful not to spill its contents.

"Hands" she commanded. Her voice in a sort of sultry, deep whisper. I held my hands out to her again, hoping it wasn't for another tray. She grasped my wrist and lifted a leather wristband off the tray. She buckled it onto my wrist, tight, then did the other wrist the same. The wristbands each had a metal ring on them, and onto these she attached two ends to a heavy chain. At the middle of this, she attached another length of chain, thus forming a "Y" shape. The bottom of the Y held a hook, which she fastened to the silver ring on the top of the leather dick-harness. This forced me to hold my hand down in front of my stomach, if I tried to lift them or turn them too far to one side, it would pull tighter the straps around my nuts, which hurt like hell. I stood still.

Claire walked a slow circle around me, stopped between myself and her tray of toys. I was facing away from her, didn't see what she'd picked up next. I soon felt it though. The paddle. It landed flat across my ass at full speed. A deafening pop as it hit me. Searing pain shot through, Instantly my butt felt like fire. She landed another one, then an third. I bit my lip to keep from screaming. Two more, even harder. Every time the paddle hit, my arms would reflexively jerk upward, yanking my harnessed package with it, answering the pain with more pain. I was drowning in agony. All I could think of was the pain. Five more strikes in a row, and I was getting dizzy. I let out a scream. More of a guttural groan, really. I'd lost control of my capacity for speech, I made an inarticulate plea for mercy. The paddling stopped. She returned it to the tray. I let out a deep sigh of relief.

She took me by the chains, unhooked the bottom end from the cock-harness, and led me to the side of her bed. Pushed me forward, and I crawled onto the mattress, none too gracefully. She guided me forward to the head of the bed, looped the center chain around the top metal rung on the headboard and hooked it into place. My face and knees laid flat on the bed and my tingling burning ass raised up in the air. I felt the bed move as she climbed on with me. Back to her tray she reached and then I felt a cold fluid down my ass-crack, her fingers smearing it onto my sphincter. My heart began pounding furiously. Her finger penetrated me. I yelped. She slid the finger back out fed more lube, and then the finger back in. Deeper this time. Then back out. The next penetration wasn't a finger. Something bigger, firmer, tapered. A butt-plug. Slowly she fed it into my ass. It felt huge, stretching me. "Relax. It will hurt less if you let it in. Just relax." Her voice was soft, soothing. I did my best to comply. I let out a long ragged breath. It went in deeper. Stretched me wider. Then it reached the zenith and pulled itself into position. I felt full. It felt strange, foreign. Uncomfortable, but not terrible. "Good" she said. "Very nice." She gave my ass a gentle pat.

Her weight shifted on the bed; She's reaching for the next fresh hell from her tray. Something tickled my thigh. I felt it again on my lower back. It ran up and down my spine, brushed over my shoulder. The cat o nine-tails. A few dozen little strips of leather, culminating at a heavy woven leather handle. She gently whipped up and down my back. Each strike a little harder, a little lower, closer and closer to my still reddened ass. She built up a fast rhythm as she went; harder, faster, lower. The first hit to contact my ass felt like a thousand needles. Then another hit, and another. She moved down my thighs, my calves. She worked the entire length of my body; down one leg, up the other, always the hardest swings saved for my poor aching ass. She also took time to concentrate on my shoulders; a couple dozen floggings each. It wasn't as overwhelming a pain as the paddle, but the swift repetition; over & over again in the same spots, the irritation kept building up, until it was unbearable. Then she dropped the flog. Her hands ran up and down my tingling skin.

She grasped me by the arms, guided me to flip over. On my back then, and suddenly aware of the plug still in my ass as my own weight drove it a tad deeper, my face wet with tears, her beautiful silhouette looming over me. My cock was still hard; the ring at the base kept it from softening too quickly, despite my suffering under the flog. I had never experienced a cockring before. It was a bit disconcerting, not having direct control over my state of arousal. She patted my stiff member gingerly. "We'll get to that soon enough. I have so much more to do yet" She leaned forward and gave me a deep affectionate kiss, then climbed off the bed. I watched her open a nightstand and remove a Zippo lighter. She lit two candles on that stand, then circled the bed and lit two more on the other. I could see her easier in the added light. She could see me easier as well, in my helpless prone position. At the foot of the bed she picked out a handful of items and came back to the bedside. She spread them out beside me.

The little metal clips, that spiked wheel thing, the switchblade, she lined them up in a neat little row. One of the clips came first. With one hand she pinched my nipple, gave it a tug, and her other hand snapped the clip into place. Excruciating. My other nipple received the same cruel treatment. I was writhing in pain. She took the lighter's flame to the end of the right nipple clip. The steel quickly transferred the heat onto my pinched flesh. I gasped, groaned, cried out. The raw skin on my back rubbed against the duvet. My whole body felt like it was on fire. Claire gave my left nipple a harsh smack, a jolt of agony, and she chided me, "Stop squirming." I tried not to move. Deep breaths. Clenched fists, curled toes. She nodded, watching my attempts to compose myself and ignore the anguish. "Don't shut it out, love the pain" No. She's crazy. "Embrace it. Live for a change, darling. Let it in." The lighter went away.

Her little wheel of needles skated across my stomach. I jumped. She ran it up my tensed arm, I could feel each little pinprick into my skin. Down the underside on my other arm, across my chest, multiplying the sensation of the clips. Southward the wheel rolled. My waistline, the sensitive skin around my cock, and then my inner thigh. It left an itchy trail behind it as she explored my body; up & down, tracing out muscle groups, meandering from one sensitive spot to another. "Tell me you love it." I couldn't respond. My silence appeared to please her. "Then you're not there yet." The snap of her switchblade punctuated her sentence.

The cold blade slid across my skin, down the groove between ribs. She didn't press hard enough to cut, just scrape & scratch. Claire slowly ran the edge of the knife up and down my left side, I didn't even realize I had contorted my body to the right to avoid it. A few strategic pokes with the knife-point into my right side manipulated me back into position. I was horrified. At any moment she could decide to cut me open; and here I was, tied to her bed, with this dick-harness, and this ass-plug, and these nipple clamps, allowing her full access with that knife. She seemed to be taking great care not to break the skin, It still felt like she did with each jab. I expected t feel drips of blood from whee she'd pricked, but there was none. The point of the blade danced across my body, I flinched with every poke. Down my legs, the bottoms of my feet, then my palms, then the underside of my dick. I bit my lip to stifle a yelp.