“Comfortable?” she asked with a wry chuckle. 

Not really.  Not that I voiced the thought.  It’s hard to talk when you’re doing your best to keep a strawberry pressed between your lips. 

Keep it there and I’ll make you cum.  Eventually.

I’m not sure how long ago she’d told me that.  It was hard to keep track.

“You look stunning.”

I struggled to lift my head so I could show the appreciation burning in my eyes, as well as the lust…

I’d been laying on her ottoman, my back forced into an arch by a cushion placed under my lower back, raising my hips so that she had an intimate view of… how did she put it? Oh, yes.  Both of my dirty little fuck holes.

I sighed, lowering my head once more, so that it hung over the edge of the padded footstool, unable to do more than wiggle in place, my wrists and ankles having been attached to the wooden legs, leaving me helpless, my thighs spread wide.  She’d been playing porn on the television, forcing me to watch it upside down.  Mostly petite blonde girls being used and abused by their Mistresses.  She watched as well, reclining comfortably in her arm chair, heels propped up between my legs, positioned so that she could slide the soft pads of her toes over the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs driving me slowly towards a state of madness.  Sometimes she’d shift, just a little, allowing her to tease my clit with her big toe, but only after pushing it into my dripping cunt to make sure it was nice and wet.  That I managed not to drop the strawberry was a small miracle…

“Does that feel nice, pet?”

“Nnnnn!” I managed, almost losing control as she leaned forward, surprising me with a swift swat of the flat leather tongue of her crop against my wet pussy. 

Taunting laughter as she stood, capturing my attention once more.  She looked magnificent. Her smile was devastating.  I stared, transfixed with desire, wishing I could reach out and touch her.  She’d tied her hair back in a strict ponytail.  She wore her blouse so tight that I thought the buttons might give way at any moment.  I loved the way it clung to her breasts, the tails hanging down, unable to conceal the treasure between her legs.  Other than that, she was naked. 

“I should very much like to film you so you can watch yourself next time.  I would love to listen to your pathetic little whimpers, your lusty little moans, and, especially your screams…”

She used her crop to give my rock hard nipples a half dozen smacks each.  Unable to help myself, I cried out, unable to keep the ripe strawberry from escaping. Panic overwhelmed me and for a brief moment there was stillness and silence, save for the lewd sounds coming from the television, as our gazes locked and I stared up at her through a blurry gaze of tears. 

Clucking her tongue softly, my Mistress knelt and began stroke my hair tenderly.  

“You know what that means, don’t you?” she asked as she brushed the tears from the corners of my eyes. 

Defeated, I let out a soft sob of frustration.

“Bad girls don’t get to cum.” 

I should mention that it had been over a week since I’d been allowed an orgasm.  A week during which she'd constantly teased me until I would have done anything she'd asked if she'd just let me cum. 

“Maybe we can work something out…”

I felt a glimmer of hope within my chest, and my heart started pounding. I thought, for a moment,  I might actually hyperventilate, I was breathing so hard.  Swallowing, I managed a pathetic sounding whimper.

“Please, Mistress?”

“Would you like to ask me something?”

“I…”

I froze, recalling earlier as I’d watched her dip a metal clothespin into a bowl of water before placing it carefully into the freezer.  And then another. And another.  Perhaps three dozen in all.

“Are those for later?” I’d asked, trembling, my imagination running wild.

“Only if you’d like.  Only if you ask,” she’d told me, a wicked smile playing upon her face as she ran her fingers up and down my naked back…

“The clothespins?”

She raised one perfect eyebrow and locked gazes with me, looking expectant until I swallowed and found the strength to move my lips and form one more word. 

“Please?”

"Please what, pet?"

"Please use them on your disobedient little slut, Mistress." 

I did my best not to whimper as the cold bit into the flesh of my tender breasts. I tried hard not to writhe on my back as it kissed the soft flesh of my inner thighs.  I tried not to fight the ropes that circled my ankles and wrists as it speared the quivering edges of my outer lips.  I fought back the sobs as it attacked my aching swollen nipples.  And I desperately tried to silence my scream as needles of agony clawed at my incredibly sensitive clit.

“I’ll take them off as soon as you make me cum,” she told me, kneeling at the head of the footstool and positioning my face between her thighs so that my mouth was pressed up against her drenched cunt, her juices smearing my lips as I obediently got to work with my tongue.