Bought By The Billionaire

Chapter 30: Bought By The Billionaire - Chapter Thirty

“Hey, Beth. You okay up there? A neighbour said there was some noise.” My Master falls still and silent…

… The heat in my cunt blooming outward, my clit incandescent with pain-pleasure, I struggle to get the words out, shouting across to the intercom. “Er, yes, fine. Don’t worry. I…er…. I just dropped something.”

“Okay. So long as you’re alright.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Don’t move. I’ve not finished with you.” His words are stern, but my Master’s voice is brimming with laughter as he steps over to the intercom and clicks it off. He pulls over a chair and jams the smashed door closed, pushing the chair-back under what is left of the handle. Then he vanishes into my bedroom, returning a minute later with a handful of my stockings.

Coming back to me, he grabs a handful of my hair and hauls me upright. “You - dining table. Bend over and spread ‘em.” He marches me over to the table, pushes me face down and stretches my arms out, tying each wrist to a table leg with a stocking. Then he does the same with my ankles. Halfway through he pauses to grab a cushion, shoving it under my hips, arching my back and raising my butt. The ankle ties he stretches tight, spreading me wide, and displaying my swollen and sopping slit.

Face pressed to the table top, I cannot move and, hair draped over my face, I cannot see.

I hear movement, rustling - my Master getting undressed and - something else - he is moving around the apartment - looking for something? I hear cupboard doors and drawers open and shut; the sound of my bedroom door, then my office door.

His footsteps come close and his hand sweeps the hair from my face.

“I thought you should see what was coming.” he says, dangling something in front of me. “We never got around to trying this one out did we?”

From my awkward angle, I make out the shape of the riding crop I bought him for his Birthday.

A frisson runs through me, and my slit pumps out hot fluid.

other parts of you.” He shows me a handful of bulldog clips. “Let’s

The tip of the riding crop? It probes my lips, pushing first to one side, then

his footsteps again. He crosses the room, returning with something. Something

tasting of my

didn’t like what you saw, but you gave me no chance to speak. And that’s not fair. So this time, I’m not going to be fair.

muffle of the gagging panties, I “Mmmmph.” an acknowledgement, but, my head

since I have known him, I am scared. Exhilarated and nervous. Joyous and

will do me no real harm, but I also understand, very

clamps onto one of my pussy lips, stretching it open to one side. It really hurts and through the panties, I yell. One mercy; gagged as I am, I can scream

other engorged

of me, over my aching clit and through, into my wide-stretched cunt. “Delicious!” Then the third clip snaps over my clit. It is excruciating, and

chest, pressing for a minute. “And your heart

can either warn you when it’s coming, or it can be a surprise. Which is it to be? Flap your left hand for a warning or your right hand

flap my left

Here it comes.

I try to shriek through the gag, jerk and struggle against the white-hot pain,

“Three, two, one.” Thwack!

me doing either. The pain on my clipped pussy lips and clit is incredible. But nonetheless, waves of arousal are pulsating

trying to deny what is coming, but at the same time, wanting more, somehow

I feel spaced out, but fantastic. The contradiction of the pain of my body,

into my field of vision and he gazes levelly at me for a moment, then

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