Self Help Destruction

Finally, blade went back to the tray. The clamps came off my swollen nipples. After removing each one, she gave the nipple a lick, her saliva felt cool and soothing. My cock ached. My heart was thundering. I felt a bead of sweat drip down my temple. When would she be done with me? How long could this go on? Did I really want this to end? As arduous as all this was, I'd never felt more turned on. I'd never felt more alive. While I lay there coming down from the latest bout of torture, Claire had gone back to her tray and was busy fastening herself into some sort of daunting harness. It resembled panties, but made of heavy rubber or leather. A wide belt wrapped around her waist, thick stirrups ran down & around her ass cheeks, culminating at the base of her crotch, and the front panel was a tight codpiece shape, with a perfectly round hole level with her pussy. Before tightening the belt, she lifted a dildo from the tray- one that looks like it was molded to resemble a real penis, and pushed it down through the hole. She cinched the belt tight into place and stood facing me, hands on hips. The dildo stood out in front of her like an erect penis.

I knew what was coming next. Slowly she strode back to the side of the bed. First one knee onto the mattress, her false dick swinging heavily before her, then the other knee up, and she was kneeling at my side. Her dildo pointing at my face. I couldn't take my eyes from it. She leaned forward, the tip of her toy cock tapped my chin. "Open." she whispered. I opened my mouth & she slid it in. It tasted like rubber; bitter. It filled my whole mouth, she pushed deeper & deeper until I started to gag. She slid it back out. Three more slow strokes into my mouth, holding each one at my gagging point a little longer. After the third pull-out I was out of breath. Crawling backwards on the bed, she made it a point to run the rubber cock, wet with my saliva, down my chest, across my tummy, then resting on my leg. Lube bottle in hand, she dribbled some onto it. Smeared it all over, until fleshy pink rubber was glistening.

Claire whispered. "Lift your legs up." I did, and she positioned herself between them. She pushed my ankles up further, folding me in half, until my knees were directly above my chest. She pushed a pillow under my lower back, providing some support. My ass was pointed upward & toward her. Without ceremony or warning she grasped the top of the butt-plug and pulled it out. I let out a grunt, she smiled, tossed the plug over he shoulder. I could feel her knees pressing into my ass cheeks. She leaned forward, the dildo bumping against my dick, my balls, then my sphincter. Her hand guided it. Pressure against my asshole, slowly she fed it in. Deeper it went. Thanks to the plug, my ass accepted this new intrusion without too much difficulty. That's not to say it didn't hurt like hell. I felt violated, in this completely vulnerable position, her strap-on cock fed into my ass, and from the look on her face, she was reveling in it.

The dildo stopped moving into me. Just as slowly as it had gone in, she pulled it outward. When the head of it reached my sensitive opening, she gave it a swift tug and it was out. Was that it? I was surprised; I'd expected her to fuck my ass harder, longer. Then I realized that she'd only pulled out of me in order to grab something else from the tray. A tiny vibrator, no bigger than a thumb. She twisted it & it came to life; a little humming sound. Gingerly, she rubbed my balls with it. The sensation sent chills up my spine. She worked the little vibrator into the leather straps of the cockring's harness, so that it was squeezed against my scrotum. The vibrations shot through my whole body. My dick was doing involuntary little bounces. She griped it with her cold, lubricated hand and pumped up & down my length. Yes. That felt good. The false penis again pushed into me. Not as slowly as before, and within seconds she was fucking my ass hard, with deep long strokes, in and out. Her fist gripped my dick tighter. Her other hand was holding my ankle up & out of the way. The pain faded into discomfort, and then into a sort of unfamiliar pleasure, as she continued to ram the strap-on into my ass. Soon we were both grunting with each thrust. "Yes. Oh yes, I knew," she gasped out between thrusts, "I knew you would love it."

I groaned. That weak hint of agreement was all I could muster. Finally her motion slowed. Her death-grip on my cock loosened, she slid her dildo out of me. My legs dropped back onto the bed. I took a deep long breath. She was trying to work the buckle on the strap-on; having trouble with her lube-covered hands. Once she got the thing off, she straddled me at the hips. My hard dick pressed against her thigh. I could feel the intense heat radiating from her pussy. She reached down & guided me into her wetness. She slid down my dick, stopping once she hit the leather upper-strap of the cock-harness, which rubbed against her clit. I felt her warmth, tightness, slippery wetness, and her weight upon me. The vibrator buzzed away between us, but I hardly noticed. She leaned forward, her breasts hanging my face. I took one of her hard little nipples int my teeth and pulled. She groaned, pulled away. She had picked a candle off the side table. She sat up straight, my dick still inside her, and ground her hips down against me, roller her ass and hips back and forth, and slowly tipped the candle over.

The hot wax hit my chest and I screamed. It burned as it dribbled down my side. Another drip struck my poor tortured nipple, and I writhed under her, thrust myself up deeper into her, and came. I shot surge after surge into her, and she ground her pelvis onto me, accepting every jolt. Slowly she lifted herself off of my twitching, sensitive cock. It fell out of her with a wet plop. She crawled forward on her knees, up over my torso, until her dripping wetness was above my face. "Now make me come." And she pushed herself onto my mouth. My semen was still dripping out of her, and I tasted the saltiness, mixed with her own hot juices. She rolled back & forth, fucking my face, smearing our fluids all over my chin, nose, lips, cheeks. My tongue wriggled, flicked, licked, and lapped. Ravenously I devoured her, barely stopping to breath. Her soft thighs clamped against my head, she pushed herself down, driving me deep into the bed, and I could feel her pussy clenching and relaxing and clenching again as she came. A new torrent of her juice ran down my cheeks. Her fingers dug into my hair, gently stroking my head. She was breathing fast and short, out of breath. She lifted herself off and collapsed at my side.

We laid still, silent. I could hear her breath, and far in the distance that slow electronic dance rhythm she'd made me strip to, still playing in the other room. I began to drift off to sleep. My arms ached from being tied to the bed and I rattled the chain, hoping she'd take the hint. Claire reached up & unhooked me. She unbuckled the wrist straps and tossed them aside. I rubbed my chafed wrists as she worked my soft dick out of the cockring. She sat up in the bed & placed it on the tray. "Turn over." Her voice had a sultry, sleepy bit of a rasp to it. I was wary. Did she have more planned? What more could she possibly do to me? I rolled onto my stomach. She slid off of the bed. I looked over my shoulder in time to see her uncoil the bullwhip. I watched her shift her weight, the long whip hanging at her side, her sweat-coated skin glistening in the candlelight, her dark eyes on me, picking the target spot for her first strike. I closed my eyes & waited, anticipated. I knew for sure it would hurt like nothing else. Would it cut my skin? Would I welt up or even bleed? I realized; I was looking forward to this. I was actually savoring this feeling of dread in the moments before the first hit. The wait seemed interminable.

A loud pop and a sharp sting right between my shoulder blades. Not terrible pain, maybe a practice swing? Another loud crack and a shot of pure concentrated pain right up my spine. The whip whistled in the air, and another strike lands, square across my ass. White hot agony, fire spreading from the point of impact. The whip whistle, snaps, and my lower back burns and blisters. Claire took a long pause between each strike. She let me draw my anguish in, revel in it, cherish it, use it. With each impact my life drew more into focus. My mind cleared, my trivial little worried existence resolved, and I became whole again. The whip landed again and again. Each strike sliced into me like a knife, and cut away the cancerous little blobs of cowardice, self-loathing, impatience, regret, fear, worry, anger, and phoniness. Finally I felt like my true self. It turns out I didn't need self-destruction. I just needed someone to help me de-construct my life, and help me get my self back. Claire, in her beautiful perversion, gave me exactly what I had wanted all along.