Mercy or Toes?

"My boyfriend made it for me," the voluptuous blonde Domme informed me.
"It looks great, Mistress," I answered.
I hadn't seen an apparatus like it before. It was a dark brown wooden framework with stocks for head and wrists on one end and ankle stocks on the other. The stocks slid along a grooved board for easy adjustment.
I was already naked. She was regally elegant, in a black bustier that kept her nipples concealed. Attached to it were black seamed stockings that flowed into her patent leather stilettos. She wore black opera gloves which, she had made abundantly clear, were going to remain on at all times, including now, as she finished tightening a leather strap around my cock and sneered at me.
"Remember, sub, I'm a Domme, not a hooker. You're paying for pain, not sex. The only thing your cock is going to feel is regret for coming here. Now, lay on your back."
I shivered at the cold of the wooden floor as she locked my feet in the lower stocks and adjusted the upper stocks to accommodate me. Once I was firmly in place, she blindfolded me.
"We're burdur escort going to play a game," she said, "called 'Mercy or Toes.' I'm going to put clothespins on you, in groups of ten. After each one, you will say 'Mercy' or 'Toes.' If you say 'Toes,' you'll get to suck on my toes. You like sucking my toes, don't you, sub?"
"Oh yes, Mistress," I replied.
"If you want me to stop, say, 'Mercy.' At that point the game is over. I'll release you and our time together is over. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress." I was drooling at the thought of her pretty stocking clad toes in my mouth. She thought I was another pathetic wannabe sub paying for cheap thrills. She had no idea: before she was done, I was going to drench her stockings in my saliva.
I felt the familiar pinch of a wooden clothespin on my scrotum, followed by several more. After ten, she stopped.
"Mercy or toes?"
"Toes, Mistress."
She lowered her foot to my open mouth. I took it in greedily and sucked the nylon, running my tongue across the bottoms burhaniye escort of her toes. She flexed them and I felt my cock twitch. After all too short a period of time, she removed them and continued.
Ten more clothespins on my crotch. I hummed with pleasure as the endorphins flowed.
"Mercy or toes?"
"Toes, Mistress."
Ten more clothespins on my crotch. She pinched my skin looking for more attachment points and I hissed.
"Mercy or toes?"
"Toes, Mistress."
The next five went on my cock shaft. My breathing was growing ragged. Three circled my cock head. Another sweep over my scrotum, then a pin vertically on each nipple. I muffled a cry.
"Mercy or toes?"
"T...t...toes."
She rubbed my nose before sliding her toes into my mouth. I nursed them greedily, seeking solace in her taste and scent.
The next ten went on my right thigh, followed by ten on my left. Each clothespin held the minimum amount of skin to keep it on, focusing and maximizing the pain.
"Mercy or toes?"
"Toes, bursa escort MIstress!"
Her toes wriggled in my mouth, matching the shaking of my legs. I sucked desperately.
The next ten circled my nipples. Her crop surveyed all sixty, wringing a cry from me.
"Mercy or toes?"
I was starting to blubber. "Toes, Mistress, please!"
She slid her foot up my chest, stopping to rub it between my nipples. I begged my endorphins to kick back in, to no avail. She rubbed her foot on my face and I tasted the salt of my tears on her foot.
She shook my cock, then spread the slit.
"I have some special clamps for this. You're going to love them."
Spikes bit into the tender skin inside my slit.
"Mercy, Mistress! Mercy! Oh God, mercy, please!" I sobbed uncontrollably.
She took off my blindfold and smiled contemptuously.
"Is that all you can handle? Wimp."
She raised the stocks and I saw the two tiny plastic clothespins that had been my downfall. She showed me a basket filled with dozens of clothespins.
"Poor pathetic sub, you never had a chance. You think you're in pain now? I'm going to remove the clothespins one by one; you'll experience the full measure of agony. Try not to scream too much: my boyfriend's upstairs watching TV.
"And remember: you'll never win. There are always more clothespins."