Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

I’m not going to lie, I was feeling amazing.

Walking back to my hotel room, dripping wet from the hot tub, it was already an amazing trip. I had broken Jay and found out that she was a fast cummer. We topped Miss A, putting her into a subspace trance that I later found out lasted for three days. And Jay was a good little fucktoy, cumming for me in public.

But I didn’t cum in the hot tub. I felt like a full-on caveman, dragging my fuckmeat back to my cave to satisfy myself. Each step was getting me more and more ready to tear into Jay, to see what her limits were.

I gave her ass a squeeze. Inside the elevator, I casually pulled down the back of her swimsuit. Her body was mine to show off if I wanted to.

The door opened a floor short of our level. Two women, short, chubby and not completely unattractive, were there.

“Going up?” I asked.

They blushed for a second, then said no. The doors closed.

“I wonder if they knew what was happening?” Jay asked.

“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe they knew that you’re my little fucktoy.”

I pulled her tits out, and the elevator slowly lurched up.

Sensing her nerves, I let Jay cover herself for the walk down the hallway. No sense breaking her mentally now, not with what I had planned.

There was one detail from our first session that was bugging me. Jay mentioned trying to make herself cum as many times as she could in an hour. She only made it 30 minutes, cumming 26 times.

That was a challenge.

I love challenges.

I know that we beat 26 that first night, but in my lust and intensity, I forgot to keep count. Jay was to the point where she couldn’t say the alphabet, let alone count past 10. I needed a count.

Stripping off her swimsuit, I dragged her over to the couch. Mr. Scarecrow was there, waiting for her.

Mr. Scarecrow is my favorite homebrewed restraint. It’s the same principle as a gallows, locking your wrists and neck in place, leaving the rest of your body vulnerable to me.

“We’re going to play a game,” I said. “You are going to count every time you cum. Don’t get the number wrong.”

We started with my fingers and tongue. Well, one finger at first, to tease her. I already knew that she wanted two fingers to stretch her out just enough. But one is a good tease, and the second I slid in my second finger, she cried out, “Four!”

Jay was a smart little fucktoy, and remembered to count her orgasms from earlier in the night.

I grabbed a blue marker, then checked off four hash marks on her upper thigh.

She kept a good count through the first 11, but 12 tripped her up.

“11,” she said.

“No.”

My stern rebuke came with a slap on her pussy.

“Fuck,” she said. “Sorry. 12.”

“Good girl.”

Watching her bounce from pleasure to pain and back to pleasure again was getting me hard. I grabbed her neon blue dildo and started working her pussy, and filled her mouth with my cock.

Sometimes I let her call out the numbers with nothing in her mouth. Other times, I enjoyed her mumbling around me.

After 15, I pulled out a gift. A cute little bullet vibrator with multiple speeds.

We started with it on her clit and the dildo inside of her. No. 16 and 17 came fast.

I pushed the toy deeper inside of her, spread her legs wide, and started slowly filling her cunt with my cock. It hit her just right, with orgasms 18, 19 and 20.

I put it on a low setting, letting her agonize over getting close to cumming again, but not getting enough stimulation to push her over. Using her mouth as a cockwarmer, I took down some notes, making sure that you perverts had a nice, detailed story to read about her being broken down into a mess.

I started to decorate her body with more than just hash marks. Phrases like “Hurt Me” and “Fuck toy” on her chest, “whore” and “use me” on her thighs, and “hole” and “cum dump” around her pussy.

When I pulled my cock out her mouth, she was squirming.

“I need this toy in my ass,” she said.

We lubed up the vibrator and put it inside of her asshole. I increased the vibrations, more and more… and I wanted to feel it.

Pushing my cock inside of her tight pussy, I could feel the toy thrumming through her. I wasn’t really trying to make her cum at this point, I was just using my toy, fucking her like a cock sleeve and using her to make me cum.

1. 22. 23. 24. 25.

I have a hunch she could have taken a lot more of that, but I was gasping for air, I slowed things down.

I went back to the dildo, pushing her harder and harder. I gave her less rest in between orgasms, notching each one on her body. Then 35 hit, and she started squirting. This only made me push for more.

At 42, I stopped and took a picture of her, posting it on gonewild. We got a few pathetic DMs, and some that were a bit more interesting, but nothing that made me want to stop. I pushed her body to 50 before I finally untied her.

That could have been the end of it. It was an intense weekend, and that night alone I had already cummed twice. I had the achievement I wanted, and she was a quivery, wet mess.

We snuggled on the couch, her sitting on my lap.

It could have been the end.

But she felt my hard cock pressing against her bottom. She wanted to serve me. Spreading her legs, straddling me, taking my cock into her swollen pussy…

She kept calling out the numbers, accompanied with brief pauses as her body shuddered. 51. 52. 53.

I was noticing that I kept pushing for round numbers. Multiples of 5. If I had her at 49, I was digging deep to fuck her hard to 50. 54? I grabbed her hips and pushed my cock deeper for 55.

We were completely gassed and dehydrated. I fell into a chair in the kitchen, getting some water and snacks. At this point, I was certain I had nothing left. We talked and laughed about things, and she was so fucking cute.

And I felt it, again. This little fucktoy was making me hard again.

I had her crawl over to me and suck my cock for a bit, to taste all of her pussy juices. Then I stood her up, turned her around, and backed her ass onto me. She rode me like a good little slut, calling out 56, 57, 58, 59 and 60.

We stumbled towards the bed. She didn’t make me cum in the kitchen. We were breathlessly talking like two runners at the end of a marathon, drained and amazed at our achievement. And I could feel that dark, primal side of me wanting more.

I was intentionally rough, filling her, using her, taking what was mine. Cumming inside of her, enjoying every moment. When she caught her breath, she let me know that we were at 63.

We did start to tuck in for the night, turning off the lights, getting one last drink of water, setting alarms for the morning. Holding her in the dark, I went over in my head everything I’d done to her. Replaying those scenes like a movie in my mind. Thinking about her ass bent over as I took pictures, her mouth around my cock. Seeing her fuck Miss A with a strap-on, and feeling her thrust Miss A’s body until she was nothing more than a fucktoy between us. Making her cum in front of strangers in a hot tub. Making her squirt and cum, and cum 63 fucking times in one night.

It was insane.

63 times.

I kept thinking that, feeling her on me.

And there was one last drop of energy in my body.

Fuck it.

I pushed her on her back. Her cunt was still wet, though her pussy lips were swollen. I didn’t listen to her count any more. I was going to fuck her until I collapsed.

And that did finally happen. My legs, my back, and my arms were done. I was drained. My cock was barely staying hard, but I knew I couldn’t cum again. It was done.

67.