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I am first, now, always, and forever, an instrument of pleasure for sir. He is able to alter my body as he pleases, regardless of what that means. Thus far, sir has provided me the pleasure of binding my tits and stretching my holes , until I am delirious with pleasure and seeing stars. I cannot count the number of evenings on ten hands, the number of long and pleasant evenings I have spent relishing his attention and playing his games.

One such evening, sir instructed me to provide for him a variety of household items with which he could fill and stimulate me. I provided for him two kinds of water bottles, and a spiked ball intended for massage. I warmed up by edging my clit until I could feel my pussy growing warm and wet against my panties. It pleased me that I was able to provide such a soaking wet hole for Sir to play with. After teasing and edging my pussy into a pathetic wet mess, I removed my wet underwear and spread my legs for him. My first implement was a long metal water bottle, about 2.5 inches in diameter. My pathetically stretched whore, cunt easily accommodated most of it, and I leaned into it and stuffed as much of it up my hole as possible. As the end of the water bottle pressed against my womb, I imagined sir’s fist gently urging my pussy open for breeding. I arched my back, taking in a little more before slowly, then pulling it out. My pussy squeezed the sides as I removed it, making a soft squelching sound and leaving a cute little trail of pussy juice from my slit to its conqueror.

Next, the plastic water bottle. The water bottle was slightly girthier, and as I teased open my hole, I could feel my cunt strain to accommodate its new guest. I signed involuntarily as the ridges of the water bottle tickled my G spot, and I strained to accommodate the girth of this new object. God it felt good to be stretched and stuffed.

Once I could no longer fit anymore of the water bottle inside, I allowed my hands to wander. My clit was throbbing, desperate for some attention. I lean back, and enjoy the feeling of my fingers, groping and twisting and pinching and pulling at my nipples. The only thing that could make it better is if sir was balls deep and in the process of planting a second load in my asshole. I shift and feel my walls clinch tightly. I can feel an orgasm begin to bloom deep inside me. My pussy gripped suddenly around the water bottle and attempted in vain to coax a load into my pussy. Wage after wave of ecstasy shocked through my pussy, each clench made stingingly painful by the girth of my body’s unusual guest.

My limbs tensed over and over until they finally relaxed. One final game, and my painfully raw and stretched pussy could rest. The final toy was a spiked massage ball, maybe 3.5 inches in diameter and of hard plastic. By this point my pussy was aching, soaked and raw. I spread my legs for sir once more and pressed the ball to my hole. I winced, leaning into it and forcing it inside my wasted cunt, pleased with myself that I could offer sir some amusement. God I wanted so desperately to be rewarded with his hard, throbbing rod drilling into my pussy.

The ball didn’t make it far. Out of pain, exhaustion, and time, I had to remove it about 2/3 of the way inside. I hope that the next time he deigns me worthy of stretching, we begin with that massage ball. Until then, maybe I’ll practice on it a little more. After all, what says good girl like a little pain and a nice long evening of desperate perversion? Not much, in my humble opinion.