The Sex Lives of KinkyMira and Friends

Kinky and filthy things that have happened to us, all explicitly told

Tag: Nipples (Page 6 of 11)

The Look In Her Eyes (Part One)

7 December 2025 /

When I left university, I was totally bereft at leaving Melissa. I was heartbroken, as I felt this was the first time I was properly in love, and yes, it was with a woman. I couldn’t tell many people why I was so down as it may well have made it back to my mother, and that would not have been good. Her daughter being a dyke – I’d have never heard the end of it. So, I had to suffer alone and in silence.

But there was one person that noticed. I had been friendly with her at college and had fond memories of getting drunk in fields of a Saturday afternoon, or in the local woods on a Friday. In fact, most of my memories with her to that point involved getting pissed. But they were all good memories.

Her name was Lisa and she contrived a way to get me away from the group. When she said what she had observed, I burst into tears and spilled my guts, all of it, the sex, the pissing, the obscene outfits, the bungee runs, and yes, the love. I was too emotional and heartbroken to see the look in her eyes at the time, but she hugged me and comforted me and did her best to calm me. Given I wasn’t really that close to her, it was astounding.

And she stayed my counsel for a few weeks, just helping me to move on. She was a fabulous friend.

And then, one day, I actually saw the look in her eyes, and it confused me, because that look wasn’t friendship or concern. I’d seen it before. That look was love. Lisa had a look of love in her eyes.

Now this was particularly confusing, as I had a bit of a thing for Lisa about three years previously. I think this was before either of us realised we were interested in women. But I admired her as a free spirit – she was everything I wanted to be, and I was a fair bit in love with her. There was a time when I really wanted to snog her, but I didn’t even think she noticed me.

But that look didn’t come out of nowhere. I realised that she had it in her eyes that first evening after I got back. Did that mean she loved me a bit from before I went to university? You can see why I was confused.

And now, what did I do about it? Because I knew she was leaving soon too. For the other side of the world and a new life. Whatever this was, it wasn’t about to be long term.

But the train of thought did briefly snap my brain out of its Melissa-induced slump. Lisa’s departure was still a few months away yet, and there was plenty of time for some fun. I still wanted to kiss her – I always had and now she had worked out she was only into women, and she was single. And the big difference was, thanks to everything Melissa and I learned together, I knew how to fuck a woman, knew how to give her proper hard orgasms. But even more importantly, there is a chance to create a bond before she goes away.

Lisa had no idea what was in my head. She just stroked my hair as she had often done over the last few weeks, trying to be comforting. It gave me a short time to think. I spent part of last year regretting not doing anything with Lisa (before Melissa came along) – I wasn’t about to spend time later regretting not doing something with Lisa before she switched continents.

So, when she stopped stroking my hair and was looking at me with kind and loving eyes, I just leaned in and very gently kissed her lips, almost the lightest touch I could manage. As I leant back, I could almost see the fear in her eyes, but I reassured her that I had wanted to do that for three years and that, despite how I’d been feeling of late, I knew what I was doing.

She weighed it up briefly, but she leaned in and kissed me, a proper kiss and in a matter of moments, our tongues slipped between our lips and touched for the first time. I felt her hands on my body as she pulled me closer, and I grabbed on to her. And we just kissed and kissed. For ages. Clothed tits squashing against each other.

After we broke the kiss, we sat opposite each other and just looked at each other and held hands. It was almost as if we couldn’t work out what to do next. We clearly both had the same idea, as when we let go of each other’s hands, they clashed on the way to each other’s blouse buttons. That was the laugh we needed to take away the tension. We just took our own blouses and bras off, and then returned to kissing each other, this time, our bare tits squashing against each other. Her tits weren’t small either, so there was plenty to squash, and neither of us was in any rush to break off our kissing.

But, eventually. break off we did, as I became acutely aware that I didn’t want to wear my tongue out jousting with hers. I had plans that I needed my tongue for. But Lisa had plans too, and leant in towards me, grabbing a tit in each hand and starting to work on my nipples, kissing, sucking, licking, and nibbling on them, swapping between them at will. It just felt amazing having her working my tits. I wanted to do the same to hers, but I didn’t want her to stop.

But eventually she did, and she straightened up to kiss me, leaving my very wet nipples to the cold air, making them go immediately hard. She saw and smiled.

I was smiling too, because from somewhere in the depths of my memory, I pulled out some gold about Lisa that she had said in some drunken truth or dare type game. She had said that if her nipples get pulled and twisted quite viciously, she orgasms much harder than without. Given I wanted to make her really want to do this, to make her want to fuck me over and over, I decided to test her out.

So, I leant in to kiss her a little, before bending over to start sucking one of her nipples, only without warning, I pulled and twisted at the nipple I wasn’t licking and sucking. I heard her breathing get harder as I twisted that little bit harder. Her nipples were loving it, getting so hard so quickly and the soft cooing noises she was making showed she liked it too. I knew I’d have her cumming in no time, but I had to be patient to build her up to a massive orgasm.

After a decent time of sucking and switching, I released whatever nipple that was in my mouth and grabbed both each with a thumb and forefinger and twisted them quite viciously in opposite directions. Her body arched towards me; her nipples were so large. I twisted them back to their proper position, then viciously twisted them the other way, making her body arch again.

I started rolling her nipples between my fingers, squeezing them to flatten them as I did so, and I leant in, briefly kissed her, and then whispered in her ear “Get me access to that cunt.”

What Have I Done?

26 November 2025 /

Here I was naked, kneeling on a mattress on the floor, looking round at eight naked men standing round me like the points of a compass, cocks showing signs of life but being untouched.

My husband said later that I looked slightly scared, and to be honest, I was. Because I remembered what I had said, I remembered what I told my husband about one of my last unfulfilled fantasies. I remembered telling my husband I wanted to be that gang-bang girl, the one in the middle of a mass of men, the one that wouldn’t stop being fucked until all the cocks were finished, the one that would be made to cry because of the relentless action with no respite, the one that all the men would just use without mercy and without giving even a seconds thought for her.

I had my favourite porn video, one where a fluffer got the men ready (to keep up the pace of fucking the gang-bang girl), one with a mascara-streaked face (as was my current fetish), one where she started off quite active and ended up broken, limp, being moved and fucked by them. I guess it was my favourite because I knew that’s how I’d end up, this crap body not having the stamina to carry on actively.

And my husband had only gone and organised it. My big mouth had got me into trouble again. He tried to organise my dream gang-bang for my birthday, but the nine diaries didn’t align, but they did last week, perfectly timed to be a celebration of my 150th blog post.

The eight men were the free-use men (my husband, Anna’s, Rose’s and Tanya’s), my ex-boss (who fucks me fairly regularly anyway), Sara’s husband, Laura’s ex-husband (from our earlier days watching other couples) and my favourite customer (one who keeps coming back to me, mostly to fuck I think, but I do also improve his business).

The fluffer was Anna, who my husband said had made clear that she’d want to be the gang-bang girl at some point in the future. This time, Anna wasn’t to be touched or touch herself, her cunt was to be left aching and unsatisfied, her ass and tits ungroped. She could only use her hands and mouth in her role as fluffer, and she would have her work cut out, with eight cocks to deal with.

The recorder was Paula, documenting exactly what happened to me, for our personal record. Someone had to document it, and like Anna, Paula too wasn’t allowed to touch herself or be touched, her cunt, ass and tits all unused.

Until afterwards. My husband had agreed that Anna and Paula could fuck each other afterwards, in front of all the spent men. And I think the women would need it. The titillation, the smell of sex, my orgasms, the men’s cum, would all be like a mega edging session for them, and out of kindness, my husband agreed they would be each other’s relief, but only after the gang-bang was finished, and only in full view of the eight men. Paula and Anna would have a long wait.

So, with me looking slightly scared, my husband reminded me of the rules, my rules, the ones I told him:

The men do as they want. All three of my holes, my tits and ass cheeks, whatever they like, however they like. They don’t ask, they just move me and do what they want. They aren’t interested in my orgasms, just theirs.

Anna is fluffer and keeper of the lube, which she will apply as necessary. I can’t ask for lube, or anything else for that matter. And the only drink I can have is piss straight from Anna or Paula. As their cunts couldn’t be touched, this amounted to them pissing on my face and me opening my mouth in the desperate hope of catching some of it. The only food I could have is globules of male cum. If Anna thinks I haven’t orgasmed enough, she’s allowed to work my clit until I do, but again, I can’t ask, she just does.

I am nothing. They won’t stop until all eight cocks are spent, no more cum to extract, no more hardness to be had. Once they start, nothing can stop them, no one can stop them. All I have to do to start my dream gang-bang is to lean forward, pick up a cock and gently kiss the tip. Everyone was still, perfectly silent, apart from Anna and Paula who were drinking water, loading their bladders to be my drinks fountains.

I was a little scared as to what I had done. This was totally my fault. My big mouth. But I think everyone in that room knew that eventually, I’d kiss a glans, that I’d take the onslaught, that I’d be that gang-bang girl and that I’d love every second of it.

There was absolutely no point in delaying it, so with a deep breath, I leant forward towards my husband in front of me, picked up his cock and kissed his glans. As I did so, he ran his hand through my hair and called me a “Good Girl”. That always gets me horny and makes me feel proud. Then I felt someone grabs my tits, as my husband pushed his limp but hardening cock into my mouth, and within moments, my body was moved and I could hear Anna giving a hand job to a couple of cocks, one of which soon penetrated my cunt, and one my asshole, but only after Anna had lubed it up. My husband carried on stroking my hair as I sucked on his cock, his smile broad, his eyes loving, but distracted with what was happening to my lower half.

Within a minute, all three holes were filled, my tits were being groped, and my body was merely reacting to the thrusts it was feeling. The gentleness of the stroke of my hair was contrasted with the slamming of cocks into my cunt and ass, the soothing tones of him saying what a good girl I was and how I was going to take every drop of cum these eight stallions had contrasted with the mauling of my tits and the twisting of my nipples, my mouth filled with his hardening cock, my cunt and asshole alternating between being very full and being very empty. And this was only the start.

Other than my husband in front of me, his cock in my mouth and his hand ruffling my hair, I had no idea who was doing what to me, and soon, I even lost track of my husband, the daze of interaction, five or six points of sexual contact at a time, put me almost in a dream world, both knowing what was happening to my body, and not knowing. That dreamy feeling, interrupted by orgasms that were strong but ignored by the men, interrupted by piss on my face when Anna realised my mouth was dry, interrupted by squirts of lube into my asshole, interrupted by the pain of my nipples or clit being twisted, I was just riding cocks over and over.

This isn’t going to be a blow-by-blow account of what was done to me. Paula did make the notes for that, but I haven’t read them yet. I will do, at some point. But at the moment, I’m revelling in the memories. I can’t tell you how much cum I swallowed or had in my cunt or asshole. The groping never stopped too, my tits in particularly being heavily mauled. I remember having a brief respite while my ass was spanked (exactly 150 strikes with various implements apparently, honouring the blog post count). I remember cum drying on my tits, causing that tightening of the skin. I remember crying not through pain but through being overwhelmed with emotion and sensory input. I remember half of me wanting them to stop, hoping they would stop, but not asking them to stop, as the other half of me really didn’t want them to stop. I remember being totally broken, having no strength at all even to hold my arms up, but still being used on and on anyway.

But above all, I remember the elation at actually being that cum dumpster, that gang-bang girl I always wanted to be, and it was everything I hoped for and more. I have no idea how long the men went on for. Felt like weeks, it was relentless and all consuming. But they did me proud.

And I did them proud. As they put me to bed in the cum streaked, piss covered, mascara run mess that I was, I had completed the task. They were all spent. There was no more cum to be had, no more hardness to use. I’d done it.

And despite what I thought might happen, I felt every stroke, every grab, every squeeze, every throb. I thought I might become desensitised to it all, but I didn’t. I felt everything, I felt alive, I felt so very used, I felt amazing.

He left me to sleep in the morning, and as I awoke, I knew I’d been gang-banged. My jaw was aching, my tits were tender, my asshole was sore and my cunt was messy and oozing cum. And I still felt amazing, still on a massive high. He told me how beautiful I looked in this state, whilst he stroked my hair and cuddled me. I felt so loved, and as he reminded me that he’d shortly be giving me my morning sodomy session, he asked me whether I wanted to be that gang-bang girl again? I nodded  and smiled broadly. Still stroking my hair, he said “Good Girl”, before suggesting he’d need to find a couple of more men, as I wasn’t totally used up this time. Wow, that would make even more of a mess of me than I was this time, and I guessed that was what he wanted. I snuggled into him, enjoying the warmth of his embrace, happy to take ten cocks next time if he wanted me to.

Disciplining The Maid (Part Two)

5 October 2025 /

Here I was role-playing the maid with my husband as the exasperated employer. I was on all fours in the wet room bathroom, my ass and cunt very much on show and my tits hanging either side of the apron. In that exposed and vulnerable position, he had masturbated me to the edge of an orgasm.

I was so close to cumming when he stopped, which meant that I was frustrated and trying to find a reason to stop scrubbing for the second time. I was trying to give him more reasons to spank me anyway, more reasons for extra strokes, and my arms were starting to tire.

A gentle throb of my bladder gave me the next move, so in amongst the scrubbing, I squeezed out a small amount of piss. This wasn’t going to be a long hard stream – I hadn’t worked up to that, but I did have a few squeezes of piss to get out, and it had the effect I wanted. He started moaning about how filthy I was, how unprofessional it was to just piss instead of asking to use the toilet, how a maid was meant to make the place cleaner and not dirtier, and all during the rant, I did occasional piss spurts, being careful to not just let the piss I had go. I had to make it last, and these small spurts were quite dramatic.

At one point, he put his hand over my cunt to “stop” me, so obviously, I did a piss squirt onto his hand. He wiped my piss from his hand over my ass cheek, then repeated it with the other hand too. Then he stopped me scrubbing, turned me round and then pushed my face down to the wetness from my piss and make me lick it up. My tits were dragging on the floor as I moved across the floor licking up any piss I could see. I have to admit it did feel so degrading, a feeling I had started to rather enjoy in recent months.

Once he was happy with the piss situation, he had me back on all fours without moving, and went behind me, reaching over my ass from my side and opening my piss flaps with his fingers. He then told me to piss properly, and as I started to do so, he started using his fingers to masturbate me again.

Now, if any of you have ever tried to piss whilst being masturbated, you’ll know how hard it is to achieve. When, after about a minute, I hadn’t really pissed a lot, he took a hand away and pressed on my bladder. That worked, and despite the masturbation, I was steadily pissing, and when I was empty of piss, I started to feel the effects of the masturbation, and he carried on building me towards an orgasm I assumed would be callously denied me. I was wrong. He just masturbated me straight through my orgasm, not breaking rhythm for a moment, almost treating my cumming like it was an irrelevance, and that whatever my body did, he wasn’t going to change his actions, actions that gave me another massive orgasm, so turned on I was that his unbreaking rhythm kept it going for ages.

And then randomly, at some point after my orgasm, he stopped, got up and washed his hands. Then he made me, his slutty pissy orgasm whore, just get up and stand there, this time telling me not to adjust my attire. He wanted me covered in piss, my tits held apart by the gathered up apron running between them, my hair in a hell of a state and my skirt not sitting properly, so it was even shorter than it usually is. I was a hell of a sight.

He ordered me downstairs to the kitchen to discuss other issues he made with the maid’s work and what corrective action may be appropriate. My spanking was getting nearer.

When we got into the kitchen, he moaned about a number of things, before running a sink full of warm soapy water. I stood in front of it and put a couple of plates in it, but he put his hand in the small of my back and folded me over, my tits (which were still separate by the apron) dipping into the water.

He lined himself up behind me, his free hand releasing his cock, and nudged his glans against my very moist cunt lips. I love this position anyway, but the separation and apron made it feel particularly naughty. Once he pushed his cock into my cunt, he started moaning about how I’m a shit cleaner, and how the only thing I’m useful for is for him to fuck, so he might as well get his money’s worth. This was a fairly hard, fairly quick, fairly anonymous fuck, with absolutely no love involved – just a maid being fucked by her annoyed boss. Thoroughly in keeping with the scenario, he kept a hand on my back to keep my tits in the water, whilst using my cunt entirely for his pleasure. Not that I cared – I’d already cum a few times, and I really wanted to feel his cum spraying inside me, and given what had happened, that didn’t take long to happen.

He withdrew straight after he came and ordered me to remain place with my tits in the water until he had decided what to do to me. I knew what was coming. It was just a matter of how and for how long.

My answer came soon enough, as I heard a kitchen chair scrape against the floor. He told me to stand up and get over his lap, which I did, my foam cover water soaked tits hanging to the left of his legs, my ass pointing skywards to the right, in perfect position for his hand to be used. He told me it was almost as if I was deliberately shit so as to get a spanking or to get his attention. I started saying a defence, but a single sharp spank stopped me mid-sentence. He told me no more time for excuses, and no more time for little punishments, that he’d been too lenient with me before and that was not happening again.

And so, he started, spanking me with his hand, and then moving on to a paddle. I struggled a bit to get a few more strokes, and he was telling me which of my issues each batch of strokes were for.

He’s good at judging when my ass needs a break, so he stopped at just the right time and then put his hand between my legs, noting how slick my cunt was and vowing to add a few more strokes for me enjoying it, then he masturbated me to yet another orgasm.

Once I’d recovered a little from cumming, he started paddling me again, adding that this batch was for my disobedience and insolence, and telling me this would be longer and harder than the punishment for my poor performance, as my disobedience and insolence were wilful. I totally lost track of the strokes, but as usual, I loved every single one, my cunt getting more and more slick the more he paddled me. And finally, he used a small paddle to apply five strokes to my cunt, my clit feeling the brunt of the force, and then as he turned me over, he roughly grabbed each tit and applied the small paddle to each nipple twice.

Then he ordered the maid to fuck off before his wife got back and told her he assumed that she would get the message from her punishments this time. Oh, I’m certain she wouldn’t!

Disciplining The Maid (Part One)

25 September 2025 /

I snapped the last large metal clip from my suspender belt onto the top of my stocking, and then stood up to adjust them all so that my stockings lay correctly on my leg, the black seams dead straight down the back of my legs. Once they were perfect, I pulled the white frilly underskirt and short black skirt up over my ass, sitting them in place on my waist.

My husband told me as he left the house that I needed to get that maid around that evening, as he needed to have words about the standards of her work. She’ll be here tonight when he turns up. I picked up the black top with the big hole in front for my tits to hang through, and pulled it over my head, pulling it down and tucking it into the waistband of the skirt. I had to arrange that as well, so it sat flat on my skin, my tits swinging freely and perfectly framed. I tied the white apron round my waist, the bottom part over my skirt and the top up over my shoulders, barely covering my naked tits. The fabric of the apron rubbing on my nipples generally made them hard enough that the nipples could catch on the seam of the apron and therefore be loosely held in place, at least until a violent movement happened that would free them from their apron covering.

I checked the side boob presentation and loved what I saw – massive tits seemingly defying gravity with gorgeous curves tantalisingly displayed. I finally fitted the white maid’s cap (pinned into my hair) and I was ready to go.

The way this scenario usually worked was that he showed the maid what she was doing wrong, spanked her whilst masturbating her and finally fucked her, before sending her home to think about what she’d done. It was fun, but I decided I wanted to step it up.

He was so brilliant playing the annoyed employer role that I decided to push him a little and see where he went. So, all dressed up, I was poised at the window waiting for his car to draw up. I had a plan, a plan that I hoped would mean my poor ass being spanked far beyond normal, once again taking one for the team. I had to admit the waiting was making me increasingly horny, and I was so ready to go when he finally arrived.

I wanted my fingers to smell of my cunt, so all the time I was waiting, I was wanking, dipping my fingers as far into my cunt as I could, and rubbing all inside and up to my clit, alternating hands so they both had the aroma of my cunt. I was careful to not get too close to cumming, but maintained a nice steady wank that was keeping me constantly horny.

As he pulled up, I arranged myself on the chaise, my back up the corner so my legs were spread wide, with me leaning back and masturbating with my eyes closed. He opened the door and was almost immediately indignant. After all, he was paying this maid by the hour, and he wasn’t paying her to wank.

Usually after his first moan, the maid is all demure and apologetic, but part of my stepping it up involved the maid becoming more mouthy. So, I told him I needed to masturbate several times a shift to keep my focus on cleaning. Without, I’d drift along and not get anything done. That didn’t soothe him, and he grabbed my hands from my cunt, inhaled the smell of my juices from them, pulled them up over my head with one hand by my wrists, and then placed his other hand directly to my cunt. He started roughly working his hand into my cunt, alternating with squeezing and pulling on my clit. I knew this wouldn’t take long – I was already hyped up and my cunt was already sensitive from all the finger working, so his hard and fast masturbation got me to the edge of orgasm very quickly.

Then he slowed right down, meanly keeping me right on the edge, my body bending upwards to his touch. After a short while of that, he muttered something about getting this over with so we can get back on to the job in hand of my cleaning performance, and then resumed the vigorous finger fucking. It was a matter of seconds before I came, and his little shuddering hand movements extended my orgasm a fair bit.

I must have had a smile on my face after I’d cum, as he said about this being nothing to smile about and that I was in deep deep trouble. He took his hand off my cunt, and I could feel the cold air drifting over it. I didn’t move. I awaited his instruction to get up, which eventually came after he moaned for a while about how he wished he’d employed a decent cleaner rather than a slut that likes to masturbate instead of clean, moaning whilst looking at my exposed slick cunt.

He was in full flow as the exasperated employer, and believe me, he had much to be exasperated about. He told me to straighten my uniform, saying how on earth could I keep a house straight if I couldn’t even keep my uniform straight. I straightened the skirt as much as I could, and realised my right tit had come out from behind the apron, so I put that away, catching the nipple on the seam of the apron in an almost pointless attempt to hold the tit in place. With this apron, that was a losing battle, and one I knew very much turned him on.

He directed me upstairs, and followed me closely behind, his eyes looking up my skirt as I climbed the stairs, fixed at the amazing view of my ass and cunt from underneath the wholly inadequate skirt.

Once at the top, he directed me into the wet room bathroom, onto my knees in front of the shower, then onto all fours with my upper body where the water would land, my revealed ass and cunt very much on show and my hanging tits straining against the fabric of the apron. In that very exposed position, he berated the quality of my cleaning work and told me to get the scrubbing brush he had put beside me and to get scrubbing.

After a few scrubs, he told me to put my back into it, meaning of course that what he actually wanted was to see my 34H tits swinging violently from side to side. They were very soon both outside the apron (one either side) and snapping backwards and forwards with each stroke. I did that for a bit and then stopped, looking round at him.

He moaned that I had stopped, before sarcastically suggesting that I needed another wank to be able to carry on, and then grabbing at my already exposed cunt and starting another finger fuck, unrelenting and hard, getting me on the edge of another orgasm in no time. Just as my body started to move to his rhythm, he stopped and ordered me back to scrubbing, rearranging himself to look at my swinging tits and exposed cunt again whilst leaving me frustrated as I was so close to cumming.

I admit that what I did next was guided by frustration rather than by some sort of grand plan. I was trying to give him more reasons to spank me, more reasons for extra strokes, and to be fair, it worked superbly. He should have let me cum. What I was about to do was totally his fault.

Carla Finally Sees Me (Part Four)

4 September 2025 /

Carla and I extracted ourselves from the body harnesses we wore overnight, providing instant relief to our nipples and cunt flaps, which each had to endure tight sawtoothed clips for hours. My nipples in particular were sore, but we each sucked on each of the other’s nipples, which provided relief from the soreness and discomfort. Our cunt flaps, well, they just had to get on with it.

As Carla was opening cupboards and getting the next piece of orgasm gear out, I texted my husband and told him to kiss Anna, properly, long, to show her how much he loved her. Because I knew I loved Carla as I know he loves Anna. It’s special, and I wanted Anna to know.

I looked up, and Carla saw my eyes widen at what she had got out. It was a fucking machine, not a consumer one, but a serious, custom, hard wearing one. She described it as brutal, unforgiving and costing a small fortune, and she told me to get on it. I didn’t hesitate.

She had set it up with two dildos mounted vertically, the one for the cunt a finger and thumb type, the one for the asshole thicker and with balls. She lubed them up and I knelt with legs either side of the base, leaning on some large cuffs and lowered myself onto the cocks, her moving them to get them into the right place to penetrate me, me lowering my body until they were fully inside me.

Those cuffs are actually thigh to calf restraints, so once I was fully impaled, she fitted them to my legs (meaning my legs were folded at my knees and I was unable to unbend them at all) and adjusted them to make sure they were tight. Next, she locked the restraints to the base of the fucking machine, and pulled at them to make sure I wasn’t able to move. I was impaled and there was nothing I could do about it. Next, she pulled my arms behind my body, put my wrists in more cuffs, and locked them to the back of the machine. This had the effect of bending my body back a little and pushing my naked tits forwards and upwards.

Then, she pulled out some clover nipple clamps and a clover clit clamp, all linked by chains. She put them on me, adjusting them all to be comfortable (confirming with me that they were), before making them a couple of turns tighter each. Bitch!

Finally, she produced a drool gag, or specifically my drool gag. I recognised it. She presumably got it from my husband, so all the time he was fucking Anna, did he know what Carla had in store for me? Was his cock ridiculously hard because of it? (I’m guessing yes and yes!)

She applied the gag, adjusted it to be comfortable, then did another turn on each of the three clover clamps.

She said I was ready, leant in and kissed the end of my nose, then turned the machine on. It was quite gentle at first, but a heady mix of vibration and pumping in and out with the finger and thumb dildo, whilst being locked into place with the restraints and dildo in my ass, meant that as it accelerated, I had nowhere to go, I had to take all the pumping, all the machine fucking.

I couldn’t say anything. All I could do is moan, and moan I did, louder as it sped up. She stroked my hair as the machine accelerated, driving me to orgasm without any finesse. It was that heady mix of love and brutality. And as I came, it didn’t stop. I looked at Carla, half-begging for some compassion (whilst secretly hoping there would be none), and I realised she had put the remote control for the machine on the coffee table in front of me, in view, but out of reach of both of us.

She knelt next to me, tightened the clover clamps again, and then held my head against her tits as the machine carried on fucking me. It was utterly relentless.

I like relentless, in a fucking context.

I came again, and again, lost in the heavy mindset of helplessness, that subspace of endurance, her tender stroking of my hair in stark contrast with the unstopping viciousness of the machine fuck. A head fuck indeed.

I lost track of time, lost track of how much I’d cum. Each orgasm meant tightening of the clover clamps, from discomfort to searing pain, dulled only by the orgasms and cuntal pounding. I was sobbing, crying, moaning, in a heady mix of pleasure and pain.

And then it stopped. She took off the ball gag, the cuffs and restraints (leaving the clover clamps in place) and helped me up off the machine. My legs were weak, and she almost had to carry me to the chair overlooking the machine.

She then got another set of three clover clamps out, applied them to her own nipples and clit, tightening them until she was clearly in pain, until her own nipples and clit were clearly deformed by the clamps, and then she climbed onto the machine, only having to lube the anal dildo, as the finger and thumb one was so slick from my cunt. She did up the thigh to ankle restraints and secured them to the machine, then said next time I’d get a chance to do to her what she did to me.

But for now, she said this was real Cowgirl, producing a ten gallon hat, putting it on, then starting the machine. Even though she had no movement at all, like I had, she seemed to be riding it like a horse, the first orgasm taking a while, but then them coming thick and fast, with clover clamp adjustments after they happened, all under my watchful gaze.

I have no idea if it fucked her or me longer, but eventually, she stopped and released her legs.

And then, without cleaning us up, she put my dress on me, one on herself, bundled me in her car and took me home. She’d broken me.

Once home, my husband helped me to get to the sofa, where I slumped, messy cunt on full view. She lounged in the chair opposite, legs spread wide, and my husband knelt down in front of her. I had forgotten she had offered him our messy cunts to clean up, and the machine had left us both in a hell of a state. Slowly and with precision, he licked Carla’s cunt clean first, stopping every so often to share a cunt flavoured kiss with either her or me. Once hers was clear, he started on mine, not stopping until it was clear of stickiness.

They kissed, snogged really, then she lent over me and kissed me, properly, lovingly, a long tongue jousting kiss that went on forever.

She apologised for breaking me, but I told her it was an easy price to pay for that night, and I’d be there tonight, no matter what.

As Carla got up to leave, she gave my husband a memory card. I queried what it was, and she said it’s my machine fuck, for him to enjoy and wank over. My hell and ecstasy laid out for him to see, to get him hard, to get him worked up. I just knew before we got back to the pub tonight that he’d watch it, and that his cock would be ridiculously hard because of it, and he’d fill my cunt or asshole with it before I go back to Carla. I’d like that. But in the meantime, I needed to rest. It was a hell of a twelve hours.

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