Beautiful Disaster

The fact that it doesn’t just close with a buckle but is screwed shut with a small allen wrench, only adds to the feeling. It’s obvious that she has put a lot of thought into selecting the items she has chosen, and I love her even more for it.

I still wince when she withdraws her hands completely and I feel the heavy pull on my balls in full force for the first time. Seeing her smug smile just makes my c**k even harder, not that the heaviness and resulting pain will diminish that effect ever. A sidelong glance reveals that Jazz is somewhere between bewildered and slightly horrified, but by the time Bella does another slow walk around us he has managed to wipe the look off his face again.

"Hands behind your heads now, I don’t need them getting in the way," she tells us almost casually, and when she walks back into my field of vision she’s carrying a crop. Ignoring Jazz for the moment, she focuses on me, letting the sleek impact toy slide up the side of one leg and down the other before she taps my restrained scrotum with it a few times. I can’t keep my low moan inside then – it hurts, but at the same time feels so unbelievably good that I’m disappointed when she stops almost immediately.

"Too easy," she smirks, then walks over to Jazz instead, who is eyeing the crop with trepidation. Since our first scene together, a handful have followed, but he hasn’t been on the receiving end of anything further as I figured it was more fun for the two of us to teach him what he wants to know by turning him into my side-kick.

Without further warning she brings the crop down on his ass, making him jump and cry out in what I know is more likely shock than pain.

"Oh, did that hurt, my naughty little boy?" she drawls, then adds a few more hits in quick succession. He takes those a lot better, just gritting his teeth against the light pain, before Bella returns to me and treats my ass to the very same. Excited as I am, I don’t even feel like it’s anything I have to tough out, and hope that she won’t just put the crop away now. It seems to be her favorite toy for when she pulls on her Big Girl Pants in the playroom, and I just love to be on the receiving end of it.

To my slight annoyance, she does put the crop down and lays it across the table, but doesn’t sit down yet. Instead she gets another box from the drawer, again starting with Jazz. He looks positively wide-eyed when he sees her pull out a pair of clover clamps, prompting her to offer him another nasty smile.

"Oh, come on, I’m sure you’ve done your share of mauling your conquests’

tits; you can take a little of your own medicine."

Still smiling, she slowly and deliberately runs a red lacquered nail over one of his ni**les until he shudders, before she pinches the clamp on, doing the same on the other side as she ignores the connective chain. When she does the same to me she’s not nearly as gentle, first pinching my ni**les with her sharp nails, then yanking the chain so that the clamps tighten painfully. And because she seems to enjoy being in real bitch mode today, Bella then picks up four of the small ball-shaped weights I keep for that purpose and attaches them to the middle of the chain, turning the slightly painful sensation into a challenging one. By then she’s almost purring with glee as she brings her nails down the side of my torso, leaving hot trails over my muscles. She’s clearly pleased at how easily she can get a few sounds of pain from me.

Then she picks up the crop and my balls tighten further with anticipation, yet instead of hitting either of us, she resumes pacing around the room.

"I still have some work to do, so you better not make a nuisance of yourselves. Step up to the desk so that your thighs are flush with it; I want to see those cocks hard and begging for attention on my table."

I immediately follow her order, too much into my role to even consider hesitating, but Jazz takes his time, bringing a small frown of displeasure to Bella’s face.

"Is your resolve already so weak that you’re deliberately yanking my chain?

Trust me, you don’t want me to repay the favor."

Sitting down, she keeps the crop close to her hand as she picks up her pen again, idly scrawling on the paper while she forces us to wait.

The weights on the chain soon start to bother me, as does the heaviness of the stretcher. The fact that the table is a little too low, making me squat slightly with my thighs tensed, doesn’t help matters, either. The way she ignores me, though, is a more cruel form of torture, although I catch her glancing in my direction every so often. Jazz isn’t really faring any better although his predicament is by far not as severe as mine, but the minutes crawl by very, very slowly for both of us.

And Bella makes us wait, longer than I have ever left her hanging in a scene. On the one hand I resent her, but on the other I silently applaud her efficiency. It’s rare to find someone with so much patience, and I wonder if most of it stems from the fact that, while she obviously enjoys what she’s doing, she’s not doing it for her own sake. The thought that being completely at her mercy could possibly mean hours spent in agonizing pain nearly makes me come as I get carried away with a few fantasies I’m sure she won’t ever enact, and my excitement obviously doesn’t go unnoticed.

"My, my, someone really likes this," she observes, then offers me a dark, lopsided grin. "Let me see if I can sweeten your ordeal even more for you."

She gets up and comes over to me again, her nails painfully sharp when she grabs my ass and digs them into the contracted muscles.

"Spread your legs but keep your c**k on my desk. Let’s see how your useless balls are doing."

I obey and slowly follow her instructions, managing to keep my c**k where it is as I widen my stance as far as I can comfortably accomplish with my hands still locked beside my head. My shoulders and upper arms are already killing me, and I’m grateful when she tells me to lean forward and grab the other side of the desk.

Her touch is almost gentle when she wraps her hand around my tormented, stretched balls, but only for a moment. Then she squeezes, hard, making me scream even though I try to swallow the sound before it can escape.

Lessening the strength behind her grip a little, she continues to massage my balls, the sensation in itself adding to my lust, but also to the general pain level in my body.

"So hard and beautifully red, I like how your balls look like this. But I think you can take a little more."

I can’t see what she’s up to but I can feel her somehow manipulating the stretcher. Each motion makes me bite down harder on my tongue in order to keep silent, until suddenly the applied weight nearly doubles, causing another grunted shout from me.

"Now you have more of those pretty balls hanging right next to your own balls. What a poetic picture, don’t you think?" she asks, then picks up the crop. "Let’s see if I can make them dance."

Her assault on my ass is fast, efficient and nearly brutal, her aim a lot better than the last timw. She hits the same places over and over again, the repeated impact multiplying the resulting pain until I feel like my whole body is on fire.

"Please stop!" I cry, uselessly of course, but the tension needs to be released somehow. She ignores me, and even seems to hit me harder, until I squirm in earnest. "Please!"

"Such a pansy, really," she huffs as she stops, then rounds on Jazz while I remain panting heavily, half-bent over the desk. "Now it’s your turn, babe,"

she drawls, flexing the crop menacingly between her hands. He looks ready to either bolt or use his safeword right away, but instead of tanning his ass now, she sits down on her swivel chair, and adjusts it to the lowest setting.

"Come here, over my knees."