Warning: Heavy pain, non-con, etc. Not for the faint of heart.

The gagging sounds had stopped almost 20 seconds ago. At this point, the dildo was so deep in her throat that no sound—or air—could escape. Instead, the silence was punctuated by her flopping legs, making a “whap” every time the sweat-covered calves slapped the concrete floor. With her black hair matted by sweat, and her normally green eyes lost as they rolled back into her head, Mariah was not having the best day.

With a knee pinning each of Mariah’s arms in place and straddling her heaving chest, Tammy was no less sweaty. A perfect complement of tiny hips and dirty blonde hair, she used every ounce of her weight to drive the dildo deeper into Mariah’s distressed throat. The 14” long, 3” thick monster of a horse dildo was putting up plenty of a fight, as it could barely fit through Mariah’s jaw, let alone her throat. Impressively, Tammy had managed to cram about 8” of it down already, but had yet to get the flange all the way to Mariah’s lips. She rocked forward once again, driving down with her elbows, and arching her back to maximize the force. Maybe another half inch?

I paced slowly around the women—each struggling for different reasons—and actually mused who was more stressed out in that moment. It would appear to be Mariah, who was essentially trying to swallow a flexible pringles can. But the anxiety scrawled across Tammy’s face might make you think otherwise. For she knew that in approximately 20 seconds, a bell would ring. And if—looking more like when—she failed to follow orders and insert the full dildo into her partner’s throat, they would switch positions and attempt the same challenge. With an even thicker dildo.

The arrangement was simple, but ingenious. I never touched either of the girls (as tempting as it may be). They only touched each other, and only at my direction. Knowing that I could easily detect if they were holding back, the “aggressor” dared not go easy on her “victim.” On the other hand, with the role-reversal bell always ticking down, the aggressor knew that they would face revenge once they were on the bottom.

I had first tried this by having Mariah fuck Tammy’s ass with a strap on, whispering in her ear that she had to bury the full 10 inches before the bell, or it would become 12 inches for her ass. With guilt battling her survival instinct, she worked the dildo into Tammy’s ass as gently but persistently as she could. Tammy would understand.

Turns out, Tammy did not understand. After shakily climbing to her feet, she gingerly scooped up the dildo, coldly wiped off her own blood and shit, looked at a guilty and horrified Mariah. In a voice raspy from 10 minutes of continuous screaming, she said, “I’m going to make this dick as dry as sandpaper.” I swear Mariah had one, long, 30 second scream before passing out. Didn’t matter, Tammy continued to throw her whole weight into each thrust.

After that, I was determined to structure every session as a conflict between fearing me and fearing her sister. The tit flogging would have broken most CIA operatives, and Tammy’s tiny figure was literally impaled on Mariah’s arm during a fisting contest.

As the bell rang, I snapped back to reality. Tammy also stopped, looked down, and gasped to see a few millimeters of daylight peaking through between the flange and Mariah’s lips. She instantly burst into tears, babbling a mixture of apologies and pleas for mercy. Mariah, who had somehow barely clung to consciousness, flung the sobbing figure off of her, and ripped the dildo from her throat. A solid 2 cups of spit and puke came out with it.

She looked up at me. With one hand clutching her throbbing throat, she slowly stretched out her other hand in my direction. And with a voice that was expectedly hoarse but surprisingly steady, she said, “Give me the bigger one. This bitch is never swallowing solid food again.”