What Became of Me

Petra pulled up the second chair and sat next to me. To my dismay, she put away the phone so I couldn’t see what Julia was doing any more. I would have liked to ask whether sound could also be transmitted. The clanging of chains and the sighs of despair would certainly have made an interesting soundscape.

“I think it’s time to start the show on the bigger screen. Of course, it costs something to watch a porn movie in my presence. But you won’t find out the price until the end.”

“It costs something to watch the movies? Isn’t it expensive enough to do that in such strict bondage?” I thought and got anxious. The bondage was really tight. I didn’t remember the exact running times, but the first movie I had chosen was at least half an hour and the second one even more than an hour. If I really had to remain in this strict tie for so long while we watched, I would have a severe test of my ability to suffer ahead of me. I’m pretty sure my stupid cunt gushed some pussy juice at this realization. It had already defected. I was outnumbered. But there was hope Petra would skip through the movies. After all, she just wanted to know what I was into, right?

Petra started the first movie. I could take a glance before it switched to full screen. Thirtyfive minutes.

It was really one of my favourite movies, maybe the one I had cummed to the most when I was still doing this. I admired the actress a lot, for her looks, her sexiness, and her flexibility. She started out wearing a cute short shoulder-free dress and was quickly tied in a kneeling position.

With every minute passing my pussy was buzzing more and more intensely. When a huge ballgag was forced into the actress’ mouth I started to whimper.  Normally I would have had my first edge at this point. But my clit only throbbed helplessly, no matter how boldly it peeked out from under its hood.

I usually reached the second edge when the rigger slowly pulled up the dress and it became apparent that the model was not wearing any underwear. At that moment her pussy was just as exposed as mine was right now, a fact that caused mine to convulse for a few seconds.

The dress was eventually cut away from the actress’ body, exposing her wonderful breasts. Looking at this, it was usually time for the third edge, especially since she was smiling and seemed to be genuinely enjoying the scene.

At this point I was desperate. I craved stimulation so much. I would have begged for it. I realized how cruel it was to ban all human communication. No requests, no pleadings, no promises, not even curses were possible. This limited the power to act even more than the inability to move. There was nothing but to passively endure.

Of course I can’t retell the whole movie. There were nipple clamps, light whole-body flogging, a harsher ass whipping, drooling, the transition to a strict hogtie. As the actress’ clitoris was stimulated with a vibrator, her moans mingled with mine.

In the next scene the tied-up model was fucked with a dildo and in the final scene her clitoris was stimulated with a vibrator again, but this time with the dildo buried deep in her glistening pussy. But my cunt remained unsatisfied and screamed increasingly urgently for relief.

“Nice film, just the way I like it,” Petra commented as the screen darkened – not enthusiastic enough for my taste. But I was probably close to overheating.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to endure another hour and maybe more like this without losing my mind. Petra had announced an edging session, but so far, it’s been nothing but helpless, uncomfortable, increasingly painful and frustrating no-touch.

“Look! You made another puddle. Again, without any stimulation. Just from watching!” Petra grinned broadly. “You seem to be having fun.”

I wasn’t having fun. Petra was having fun. My stupid cunt was having fun. Not only was I outnumbered, but the stupid thing between my legs stabbed me in the back.