John’s hand slid up my back until he could grasp my hair, and thus lift my head. My eyes opened immediately as I gasped. His face was in my view and he had a strand of pearls in his hand. It was then I knew exactly what was wrapped around me. It was pearls. He’d surrounded me with the precious stones.

Releasing my hair, he carefully threaded the strand he’d held under me to wrap it around my neck in addition to the one I already wore. Except he didn’t leave it like a necklace; no, instead he trailed the two long ends down my back before I felt them being pressed between my crack.

His palm came down on one side of my ass and I clenched my cheeks together. A soft pat on the sore cheek let me know that was exactly what he’d wanted. It was getting hard to focus on what he was doing or anticipate what would be next since the music was pulsing through my ears, my blood pounding in time to it. The pearls added to the feeling of restraint from the bindings on my wrists and ankles. Then there were the pearls around my neck, just tight enough that if I clenched my cheeks hard enough, they dug into my throat.

A sharp, pricking sensation ran down the bottom of one foot from the tip of my big toe to my heel. I squirmed from it. It hurt, but not so much I couldn’t handle it. When it disappeared, I expected it on the opposite foot, but the spines of the Wartenburg wheel wandered over the inside of my thigh. When I jumped again, John’s hand landed on my ass sharply. I cried out. He didn’t want me to move and I knew it, but couldn’t help it when I had no idea where he’d move to next.

Reaching the apex of my thighs, the pricks disappeared. He wasn’t pressing hard enough to pierce the skin, which I knew he could, but hard enough I knew I’d have little impressions left behind for a while.

Long moments passed without a touch of any kind and I relaxed, calming my breathing. The spines returned to my other foot and I bit down on my lip so I didn’t squirm. Each time a point pushed against my skin, I felt a pulse within my pussy answering with its own cry of need. The pain moved to my unused thigh and the higher it climbed the closer I drew to a building orgasm. I couldn’t get off from it, but I could get damn close. The sharp spikes of pain made me want to writhe, made me want to beg, but I did neither.

The fun was just starting and I wanted to keep from begging as long as I possibly could. This was a test to show John I could take everything he wanted to give me. I could be all he needed. I knew it deep in my heart and I wanted to make sure he knew it as well.

John gripped the side of my panties and yanked on them. The elastic stretched, drawing them up into my slit painfully before I felt them tear under the force he exerted on them. I squirmed until I felt his chest press against my thighs and he tugged on the other side, tearing the rest of them from me. Relief. The damp fabric had rubbed abrasively against my tender flesh.

I jumped when I felt something cold press against my heated skin. John’s fingers slid along the outside of my pussy lips, never touching where I needed him. I was glad I’d made time to get waxed earlier in the week so I knew it was as smooth as it could be for him.

His touch disappeared, only to be replaced with something else, something foreign. The item seemed to loosely cup my entire pussy at once and a moment later I knew why. It was a pump. It sucked my clit and pussy lips up into it, sensitizing them further. While I’d never experienced one before, I had done research and knew what to expect — or so I thought.

The pump’s grip on me grew tighter and tighter and I moaned as it became almost too much, then it stopped. I could feel all the blood in my body rushing toward that single point, enlarging it slightly. Just when I thought the pressure was subsiding, it sucked me up again and again, pushing me toward the fine edge of pain, and then — nothing.

John ran kisses down the exposed skin between the strands of pearls on my thighs and when he reached my core, all pressure seized as he released me from the pump. Blood pounded in my clit as my arousal reached an entirely new level I’d never known before.

His lips took my clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it, making me whimper while clenching my hand tighter around the ball in my hand. It was the only part of my body I seemed able to control or do anything about. The only thing left to ground me from the multitude of stimulations bombarding me at once.

The air smelled strongly of the scent that always seemed to accompany John’s presence. The music was dull in my ears as I concentrated on what was going on between my thighs. My eyes were closed tightly, not needing anything to distract my mind from the pleasure being rained upon me.

As quickly as his mouth had latched onto me, it was gone. In its place was the pump. I lost track of how many times he switched between his mouth and the plumping instrument. All I knew was I was incredibly sensitive and being held on the brink of an orgasm the entire time, but he always made sure to stop just short of me falling into bliss. Finally I couldn’t handle any more.

“Please, sir, I can’t.. I can’t take any more. I’m too sensitive,” I gasped, barely able to form the words through the haze in my brain.

I felt the bed shift as he moved next to me and I saw the pump being set on the table in my eyeline. Yes, he wanted me to see what he was using on me, reminding me of it even as he moved on to something else.

When the sharp points of the Wartenburg wheel returned, I screamed. He ran them over my pussy lips gently at first, but I was so tender he might as well have broken skin with them. The longer he ran them up one side then down the other, the harder he pushed on them. It was only when I feared he’d make me bleed that I dropped the ball from my hand.

I was floating and unable to make my lips form any words, except for moans. Instantly the points were gone and a cool cream was being spread over where it’d tormented me. The headphones were removed next and it was a shock to be plunged into the peacefulness of the room after such a long time hearing nothing but my own breathing, heartbeat and the same song on repeat.

“How are you doing, Precious?” John asked, running his fingers over my cheek.

I tried to respond, but I was so far into subspace I couldn’t.

“Mmm, I do love the look on your face while you float,” he murmured kissing my cheek. “One last thing and then you can float off to sleep.”

I heard the words, but they made no sense to my numbed brain. The bed shifted as he moved between my thighs once more. There was a firm, hard pressure before I realized he was entering me.

A moan escaped me as I welcomed him. In one thrust, he was fully in me and I felt a tug on the pearls around my neck.

“Shit, you are so wet,” John groaned, huskily. “I need you to come. I need to have you bathe me in your release, then I’ll fill you with my come so deep you’ll never be free of me.”

His hips pistoned into me. Skin slapped against skin as I was jostled on the bed. My orgasm, which had been fading, ignited and started a fire in every limb of my body as it crawled through me toward the powder keg between my thighs. Closer and closer the flames moved toward the impending explosion.

“Yes, that’s it, Precious. Suck me deeper. Wrap around me so tight it hurts. Fuck. Yes!” he cried out, moving even faster against me as he tightened the cord around my neck. I struggled to draw breath, but it heightened every sensation I was feeling. The pearls on my legs slid along my skin as he moved, feeling like little hands everywhere, touching me, caressing me.

When I exploded, I felt like every molecule in my body had combusted and I was no longer a living thing, but simply a rush of emotions. Higher than I’d ever been before.