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As he wants it.
Gently, hard, rude, painful – in every way.
He inserts a finger into my vagina, wriggles, squeezing his muscles.
Pulls out, presses the hole a little higher and penetrates it with a finger.
Just a few movements inside the ass – and that’s all, I have not had anal sex for too long.
He puts a member to my hole, presses.
Stronger.
Without lubrication.
I’m scared and hurt.
Consciousness draws before my eyes a picture of one more terrible one.
I whisper: “Please do not.
I am begging you”.
Heard entered slightly below.
Pulls me by the collar, blocking my breath, makes me throw back my head and bend even more.
Continuing this furious race, he takes a phlog and lashes me across the chest.
The orgasm is overwhelming me, forcing me to go limp in his hands in a second and to press even closer, almost merging with him.

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It turns out.
Turns me over, picks up my hair again and starts to fuck my mouth.
Rough, deep.
In his hands a whip, he lashes me on the buttocks, falls on the crotch.
Pain and pleasure.
I stop.
Feels – I can make a mistake from the pain, takes a phlog.
Everything ended too quickly, I have not had time to enjoy it yet.
I lick his sperm to a drop.
Of course, how can I leave.
Again, one almost elusive movement, and everything changes.
I sink to his feet and start licking, sucking his fingers.
He presses my shoulder blades with his foot, going down below, almost pressing his face to his feet.
I bend, almost lay my chest on his legs, continue to caress my tongue, lifting my ass high up.
Feel like a pussy enters, whip handle? There can be no other.
He stands and, holding a whip in hand, fucks me with it.

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It turns out only to enter my ass.
Continues deep and fast.
I feel ashamed, I see myself, as if from the side of casual viewers, find yourself here like that.
On my knees, almost pressing my chest to the floor, I lick his legs, take my tongue between my fingers, my butt is raised high up, the whip handle rhythmically enters it.
It turns me wild, excites.
Pain, pleasure and submission.
There is no thought, no desire to stop all this.
I slip my fingers between my legs and caress the clitoris.
He continues until I finish.
Almost crying, not from pain.
from emptiness, bodily pleasure, his own powerlessness, the inability to even rise without his help.
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