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The end of the game (IV - Final)

PrincessMythik

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on: June 12, 2019, 01:11:32 PM
Jaime left the room. He came back almost instantly. He must have gone to the kitchen because he had a jar of juice in his hand. He filled a glass and gave me a drink. I drank avidly, like the castaway who had just discovered the saving oasis. The coldness of the juice relieved the dryness of my throat and calmed a thirst that made me unbearable. Jaime filled the glass again. And I drank again, almost stuck from the craving. Looking at him with tired eyes, I thanked him.  I think I even smiled. He gave me back his, broad, devastating.  And he ordered Monica and Louis to follow him. The three of them left the room.  Jaime turned off the light and closed the door.







I was comforted in that darkness. I needed it.  Blinded my eyes, my mind was filled with images, memories, lived sensations. "Tomorrow, at my house, 10 o'clock..." "If you're not gonna do it, I'm asking you to leave, please..." "You're a whore, Marta... So naive, so innocent, so whore..." "I want to fuck you, Martita... Martita fucked by a woman... Martita fucked by her friend Monica... No one knows what's going to happen from now on...". "I'm going to burst you with pain and pleasure...Pain and pleasure... Of pain and pleasure..." A jumble of voices echoed inside my head, an incessant echo that filled me with sorrow and restlessness. What hours would they be? I realized that I had completely lost track of time. I felt like I'd been in that room for centuries. His arms were numb from having them stretched out. They hurt. My back was burning. I supposed her to be red, furrowed with marks. I remembered the first whiplash and a shiver made me tremble. My mind recreated Monica's body and I saw her again on her knees, naked, devouring me, taking me to the paroxysm of the most immense pleasure I had ever felt. I was filled with desire again. I had always rejected the idea of having sex with a woman. Now, I was excited to fantasize about the image of Monica introducing her tongue into my wet pussy. And behind me, Luis, naked, strong, discharging the wrath of the whip against my body. "You're a whore, Marta..." "I'm going to burst you with pain and pleasure... Of pain and pleasure..."







The door opened and the light came on, making me wake up from that dream. Only Jaime came in. The door closed again, the room turned into a prison. He started to untie me. My arms fell down. Without the chains, my legs flinched and I fell to the ground. Jaime helped me up and told me to stay on my knees. I didn't have the strength to contradict him. He went to the bag and pulled out other chains. He joined them to the ones that started from my wrists, entangling them in the hooks of the posts, tying me to them without having to raise my arms. He stroked my hair, pulling it away from my face. And he started undressing.







- The night is over, Marta. - He talked to me as he took off his clothes, with exasperating slowness. - You know. It's already four o'clock. We've been having dinner in the kitchen and Monica and Luis have gone home. Is Monica doing well, huh? She's a big sucker for anything that comes in her mouth. And a good slave. Someday I'll tell you how she became my slave. Luis is not my slave. He has lent himself to the game alone. He has his own slave, but you don't know her. He knows how to whip the bastard. She's got a prodigious doll to carry the whip right where she wants it. Monica deserved an award tonight. You've been his prize. By the way, are you hungry? I asked you a question. Are you hungry?







- No, I don't - I replied with a thread of voice.







- I didn't hear you right, slave - he said arrogantly.



 



- I'm not hungry - I answered almost screaming. - And I'm not your slave.



 



Jaime grabbed me by the hair. Pulling hard on him, he made me lift my head.







- Ah! Aren't you my slave? Well, go with Martita.







He let me go. I feared a new punishment. But he took the chair where he put the paper with the instructions he had to follow, in fulfillment of his wishes as the winner of the game. He put it in front of me and sat down.







- Finish the game, dear Marta. You won't easily forget tonight. As much as you don't want to admit it, you've already become my slave. I read well in your mind. Your body, broken by the pleasure Monica gave you, betrayed you. It was the same body Luis was taming, beaten with a whip. Pain and pleasure united indissolubly. You couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. The pain has made you weep with pleasure. Pleasure has made you scream in pain. I know you, Marta. And I know that, irremediably, you will want to seek the limits of pain and pleasure, now that you have entered their territory.







Jaime hypnotized me with his words. Without realizing it, I was chaining my soul, nullifying my own ability to think and feel. He thought and felt for me. He got up and his nakedness spurred the beats of my chest. His cock was prominent, filled with virility and desire. He brought it to my face. "Take a good look!" he yelled at me. "You'll learn to adore me, bitch. Suck it!"







With rebellion, I closed my mouth and turned my face. Jaime's slap sounded dry, leaving me stunned and unarmed. Crouching, he grabbed my jaw tightly. He smiled at me.







- You know what excites me the most about a slave? His screams.  The more torn, the more they excite me. When I took off your gag and Luis whipped you, your screams made my dick hurt in my pants. Don't ever forget that. The best rebellion against your master is not to scream.







He went all the way to the bag. He took something out of himself. He came back to me and grabbed the chains hanging from the necklace. He worked hard to attach to the ends of the chains what he had taken out of the bag. Once he got them, he showed them to me. With his fingers, he opened and closed what seemed to me to be small metal tweezers. I wasn't wrong. He got down on his knees in front of me and started kissing my nipples. They immediately responded to the ardor of their kisses. Jaime stroked my left nipple. He stretched it out and put one of the clamps on it. The teeth of the metal got stuck in the flesh and a wave of fire ran through my body. The tears came from my eyes and a cry thundered from the depths of my soul. The right nipple was ready. My sobs and my supplications were of no use. Smiling at me, Jaime closed the clamp. I felt dizzy from the pain.







It was the last blow to my will. The pressure of the tweezers on my nipples gave me back the pain I had almost forgotten. Jaime put his dick on my lips and pushed. My mouth gave way. The immensity of his erection stuck in my throat, causing me one more arcade and wound in my defeated pride. I felt his cock grow inside my mouth. I knew bitter saliva mixed with the first drops of his sperm. Squeezing my head against his pelvis, his dick lodged deep in my throat, leaving me breathless. The rough rubbing of flesh cut my parched lips, as his dick explored every corner of my mouth. Jaime was pulling on my hair, freaked out by the excitement. Nausea convulsed my stomach when I discharged the hot spout of his semen into the inside of my mouth.







I barely resisted the onslaught. A coughing fit made me expel a lot of the sperm that was drowning me. I swallowed saliva and the rest of your milk lodged in my mouth. She was full of shame and disgust. Shame on myself. I disgust myself. I felt dirty, inside and out.







- That's enough, Jaime, please, I'm begging you - I stammered between moans.







He smiled. Every time Jaime smiled, my heart froze.







- I beg you... I beg you... master.







I don't know what made me say it. Possibly impotence.  At that moment, I realized that psychological torture was more unbearable than physical torture. I understood that Jaime had scrutinized the inside of my soul since we met, to the point of knowing more about me than myself.







Jaime opened the clamps and released my nipples. He kissed them delicately, with tenderness. He took the necklace and handcuffs off my hands and feet. He helped me get up and hold myself. With his hands, he wiped his semen from my face and the tears that fell on me. He stared at me. I held the gaze.  I was serious, like I'd never seen him before.







- I love you, Martha - he whispered, while kissing my cheeks and lips. - The game is over. You're free to start hating me.







- No, Jaime, it's not over. On the contrary, it's only just beginning. A woman always dreams of finding the man who loves her above all things. For that man, a woman is able to cry and laugh, to enjoy and to die. A woman always dreams of someone who takes her heart, who takes it. It's not hate I feel, Jaime. I never gave my pain to anyone. To you I give him forever, my love, my master, master and lord of my soul.


 

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