"Did you know that the sounds you make are different for each hole you fuck?"
"Are they, my little slut?"
"Oh, yes Sir, they are. You moan when you fuck my pussy."
"Whose pussy, slut?"
"Yours, Sir. I am sorry, Sir."
"No need to apologize. I just want to make sure you remember who you belong to."
"Oh, yes, Sir. How could I forget when you have me at such a disadvantage?"
Her predicament was clear. She was tied in a chair, hips and ass tight against the back, arms straight down to her sides and feet one to each leg, on the outside, so that her pussy was spread wide open, fully accessible to my attentions.
But I hadn't stopped at tying her to the chair. Once she was secure, I laid the chair back, so that she lay on the floor, pussy pointing straight up. Then, I put a condom over the end of a tapered candle and inserted it into her wet hole.
"Tell me why you like it when I fuck you, slut," I instructed as I lit the candle, holding in a wicked giggle as her eyes widened in fear.
"S-Sir?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the flickering flame, even as I began passing the tines of my Wartenburg Wheel through its heart.
"Don't question me. Tell me why you like it when I fuck you!"
"Yes Sir. I am sorry, Sir.
"I love the sounds you make," she said. "It's like you've entered heaven when you penetrate me.
"Did you know that the sounds you make are different for each hole you fuck?
"Are they, my little slut?"
"Oh, yes Sir, they are. You moan when you fuck my pussy."
"Whose pussy, slut?"
"Yours, Sir. I am sorry, Sir."
"No need to apologize. I just want to make sure you remember who you belong to."
"Oh, yes, Sir. How could I forget when you have me at such a disadvantage?"
"So I moan when I fuck my pussy.