Bought By The Billionaire

Startled and abashed, I want to look anywhere but into his face.

“Do you realise Elizabeth,” he continues, “that this is where we first met? Time for a replay of those events I think.”

A cuff snaps around my wrist, and my arm is pulled upwards to the shower head, then locked into place.

My other arm follows, and I am bound naked to the showerhead, water still playing over my hair and face, breasts and stomach.

As I finally look at him, my Master is stripped down to his jeans, bare-chested and barefooted. “Francis left five minutes ago. You know, I was watching your performance there, for some while Elizabeth, and you didn’t even notice me. I must have been remiss in my attentions to you.”

He shrugs off the jeans. “I could fuck you brainless right where you are, but I think we can take a little longer over it. Do you like the cuffs? They’re new. I bought them as a present for you.”

The cuffs are bright, shiny and very secure. I could not now release my hands, firmly affixed above me, even if I wanted to. My pulse beginning to race, in anticipation of what is coming, I strain against the cuffs, using their restraint to stretch my belly flat, and raise my breasts, displaying myself to best effect for my Master.

“I have another present for you,” he says. And with that, he dangles small bejewelled clamps in front of me, giving me a good view of them before, one at a time, and slowly, attaching them to my nipples.

The attachment itself does not hurt. Quite the opposite, the mild nip as they gently take hold of my crinkled buds is stimulating. A frisson ripples through me, sending a fresh supply of hot juices running down my thighs, mixing with the still streaming waters of the shower. But my Master does not stop there.

Taking my chin in one hand, he directs my face towards my breasts, making sure that I see what he is going to do. My lips parted in anticipation of what I see is coming, ever so slowly, my Master squeezes on the left nipple clamp.

Pain

leasure surges through me. Squealing in agony/delight at the pain, my knees give under me and my weight drops onto my shackled wrists. My Master makes no attempt to support me. Instead, my legs splaying as my feet scrabble for purchase on the slippery shower floor, he releases my chin.

reaches south, gripping my clit between thumb and forefinger. Simultaneously he both pinches my clit below and squeezes on the other

pain sparkles through me, sending waves of arousal pulsating through my swollen cunt. Unable to stand, I hang from my wrists, jerking and heaving as my Master alternately nips at raw nipples and my throbbing

God. Oh, God. I can’t stand it. Please, Master.

immediately. Instead, he gradually reduces the speed and intensity of his torment, the biting of the clamps lessening bit by bit, until I finally regain

he wishes with me, I writhe in sensual expectancy, of what is

sends tingles skipping down through me again, further igniting my pussy. Directing the pressure of the

Master is in the shower with me, his erection

spray moves directly onto

my tormented clit away from the exquisite torment of the jet. Each needle of water

his knees, my

cunt and clit, directing it over and into my clenching, twitching pussy. I stagger and totter, wailing and howling, with arousal

rising, sweeping over me in a tsunami, overwhelming me as spasms pulsate through thighs, belly and cunt. I think I am gushing, but

my waist, raising me and taking some of my weight, relieving the strain

unable to take any more, I scream “Redhead.

him. Gasping and panting, utterly spent, I lean into his

he whispers, close by my face. “And that is what happens to girls who

have the energy for more. Dripping and sated, I am content simply to rest against my Master, vaguely aware that, as yet, he has not yet climaxed himself, and not doubting that he

Elizabeth.” he says. “But you must

“I always love your gifts, Master.