The convulsions that gripped and jerked her kneeling body died away the moment he removed the wand vibrator from her shiny clit. But far from bringing relief, the interruption to the teen's impending climax made her scream Pitié into the ball gag. Fighting the handcuffs behind her, she bent forward awkwardly in an attempt to scratch the ache inside her dripping pussy. Spit drooled under gravity to splash onto an erect nipple.
"Up!"
His authority triggered a tremor deep in her belly. A need. Hunger.
She slowly righted, desperate to touch herself and quell the flames that raged beneath her skin. His unwavering gaze bore deep, the epitome of control. Calm. Powerful. She risked flicking malachite eyes to his gentile, sculpted form; a broad oak with one deliciously solid branch she craved.
Bringing the buzzing wand to her nipple, he smeared the saliva. She jolted and flashed him a pleading stare that made him chuckle.
"Let's see how well you're doing, kitten. Lift."
She obeyed. Raised from her haunches, the ridged dome of the stainless steel orange juicer slithering from her twitching tunnel to remain attached to its bowl. He reached for it, a finger brushing her shaved, splayed pussy lips. Clear lava dribbled from them to roll down one of the metal furrows, dripping into the base via the concentric array of holes surrounding the dome.
Her nectar, collected.
Lifting the lid, he appraised the contents. "Very good, kitten. About one third." He dipped his finger into the base and brought it, glistening, to her nose. She inhaled like she knew he wanted, all musk and desire and desperation, then watched him stripe his tongue with her essence. Awaited his verdict as he savoured the juices.
"Excellent. But I need more."
He replaced the top, the metal clanging in the quiet of the opulent study. Bringing the wand to her clit once more, he pressed. She jerked and slammed onto the juicer's cool peak that split her mercilessly, moaning and gasping as he rolled the vibrator around the apex of her slit.
Her orgasm welled again. Seemed like it had always been there, just below the surface, for what felt like days. Her erratic panting through the gag elevated, and she knew the juicer was dutifully gathering the wetness that rained from her opening. Maybe this time he'd be satisfied. Let her tumble into the glorious abyss of everything.
The buzzing ceased and she bucked again, trying to remain in contact. "Non!"
She felt empty despite crushing against the steel of the juicer, grinding hips as a surrogate for the contact she craved. Always just out of reach. Her breathing came in a series of ragged snorts, spit flying.
He stroked the mane of blonde hair that cascaded over her bound arms, running fingertips along the inside of elbows and forearms, then up again. "Good girl. You're so very good." Reaching into the locks, he tugged, tipping her head back. "But you can do better."
He brought the wand to her jumping clit and tapped. She bucked in his grip and sensed his excitement as he did it again and again. He exuded masculinity and purpose, each tap followed by a suffocating pause, atoms in the air vibrating millimetres from her need.