I slid down the red thong panties, just enough to give me access. Robin had thoughtfully placed the bottle of lube near the plug; clearly, he had thought ahead. I squeezed a generous dollop onto the top of the large stone plug and spread it around with my hand.

When it was sufficiently slippery, I turned away from the camera and knelt on the floor. I bent over the chair, reached between my legs; my questing fingers located the entrance to my ass, and I wiped the excess lube around it.

Relax, I told myself as I brought the plug between my legs. Breathe. The cold tip touched my anus, and I shivered. With slow, steady pressure, I worked it in, feeling myself opening up to it. I felt my sphincter fight against the intrusion, and I increased the pressure. Slowly, bit by bit, I stretched open around it.

When I reached the point where I felt that I could stretch no wider, I held my hand still and pushed backward against the chair. The giant plug slipped into my ass in a sudden rush. I clamped down tightly against it and let out a gasp; the shock took my breath away, making my eyes water and my vision swim.

I lay there for a minute, panting, and let the feeling gradually subsided to a throbbing ache. When my vision cleared, I straightened with some difficulty and stood unsteadily facing the camera.

Did that hurt?

"Not as much as I wanted it to." I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and stood still, panties pulled partway down, feeling that implacable weight.

Are you wet?

I turned slightly to face the camera directly. The heavy mass of stone in my ass shifted with the slightest motion. I opened my legs as far as the panties around my thighs would allow. I slid my hands across my body, over my breasts, down my sides, over my silky-smooth naked mound; then, with a sharp, abrupt motion, pushed three fingers deep into my cunt. "Oh!"

Another quick motion and they were out. I raised my fingers and examined them, slick and glistening. "Yes." I blushed furiously. I touched my lips lightly with my fingertips, wetting them with my own juices. "Very." I licked my lips. My face turned even deeper red, and hot shame spread slowly through my body, lending a ruddy glow to my skin. I took my fingers in my mouth and licked them clean.

We want to see.
Sit in the chair.

I sat demurely, legs together. The heavy granite plug, only slightly warmer now than it had been, pushed farther into my ass as I place my weight on it.

Do you remember how you closed your legs, that first night I made you put on a show for Ranbir, when I told you he was watching?

"Yes." The memory of that night flooded back.

We're going to make sure that does not happen again.
Put your legs up over the arms of the chair.

I drew one leg free of the panties, and left them dangling loosely on my other thigh. I hooked my knees up over the padded wooden arms. The position spread my thighs wide and shifted my hips forward, bringing the round base of the plug into plain view. Nothing was hidden; nothing left to the imagination.

Use the straps.
Tie them there.

My fingers felt thick, reluctant to comply. Slowly, I forced myself to pick up each strap in turn, wrap it around my leg and the arm of the chair, draw the buckle tight. When I was finished, I was unable to close my legs or turn to hide myself.

It was worse than I thought it would be.

Not only did I feel exposed, vulnerable, a creeping feeling of helpless took hold as well, mixing with the humiliation. My chin quivered, and I could not bring myself to look at the camera.

He wasn't finished exposing me.

On the table to your left, you will find the clips.
Use them.

My heart thudded and pounded. I turned to look. They rested there exactly where he'd said: two leather straps, each connected by a black cord to a wide metal clip tipped with rubber. My hands shook as I picked them up, and little rivulets of sweat dripped down my breasts.

I whimpered as I fitted each strap around my upper thighs. I picked up the first clip, held it open against the spring, and carefully clipped it to my labial lip. I cried out as the clamp bit down, unable to stop the exclamation from escaping my lips. Then I picked up the second clip and repeated the process on the other side, crying out again as it clamped down on my other lip.

Now open yourself.

From somewhere far away, I heard a choked sound, midway between a groan and a sob, and realized that the sound had come from me. I took the ends of the cords and pulled. They slipped through the straps around my thighs and pulled on the clips; my labial lips spread open wide. On the television screen, a large bead of pearly white wetness rolled from my gaping cunt and trickled down around the base of the heavy anal plug. Nothing I had ever done before-not being given to Ranbir, not kneeling on the bedroom floor and being made to beg for his cock in my mouth, not even squirting body washed mixed with his come all over my body-had ever made me feel quite so thoroughly, completely objectified.

Do you like tasting your own juices?
Tell the truth.

I shook my head, "No. I know that it turns you on."

Pick up the long double-headed dildo I sent you.
Put it in your cunt.

Another choking sob. I seemed frozen in molasses; every movement came in slow motion. The long black dildo felt unnaturally heavy as I lifted it.

I brought it down between my splayed legs, slid the head into my wide-open cunt. It stretched me wider, and the plug shifted painfully inside its tight slippery hole. I cried out loudly in pain and shame.

Fuck yourself.
Tell everyone what you did with this the first time you used it.

I gingerly slid the dildo deeper and moaned. "I-you made me... You sent the dildo in a box to my office when I was at work. You told me to lock the office door and strip naked." I whimpered, moved the dildo a little bit faster. " I took off all my clothes in the office and fucked myself with this dildo until I came." My ears burned; my face burned; my nipples stood out as hard as the granite toy. "I-"

Tell them. Tell them everything.

"I fantasized about being taken roughly in the elevator at the office while I masturbated." The surge of humiliation made me clench around the dildo. "When I came, I took a picture of myself and sent it to you."

Show us what you did next.

Without a word, I slid the dildo from myself. I turned it around and carefully penetrated myself with the other end. I whimpered softly, steadily, as I bent over and took the end of the dildo that had just been buried within me, thickly smeared with juices, into my mouth. I fucked myself that way, in front of the camera, thrusting the dildo in long strokes in and out of mouth and cunt.

He let me take myself that way for a long time. I whimpered around the thing in my mouth, while the dull ache in my ass slowly grew sharper, more insistent. Then I felt myself twitch deep inside, and the sounds changed to moans. Stirring on the edge of awareness, an orgasm began to build.

Do you want to come?

"Mmm hmm."

Stop.
Do not come.

I took the dildo out of my mouth. "Please!"

No.
Take it out.
Tell them what you did next.

I mewled as I slipped the dildo free and dropped it. "I-" I felt flush, touched my breasts uncomfortably. "I took a marker and wrote things on myself."

What things did you write?

"Cocksucker. Come slut." I brushed my hand against my belly. "I swallow."

Do you want everyone to see you come?

I nodded mutely, too ashamed to speak.

Why?

"So..." The words came out with difficulty. "So that they can see what a whore I am. So everyone will know how being humiliated and degraded gets me off."

Will it hurt if you come with the plug up your ass?

"Yes. It hurts now."

Will that make you scream?

"Yes."

We can't have that. You'll wake the neighbors. Pick up your gag and show it to them.

I lifted the penis-shaped gag from the table, held it up.

Do you like wearing that?

"Sometimes."

Why?

"Because it feels like having a little cock in my mouth."

Stuff it in your cunt.

I did as I was told, penetrating myself with the stubby bit of the gag.

Is that the only gag you like wearing?

"No. Sometimes I like wearing the ring gag. I don't see it out here."

Why do you like wearing it?

"Because it keeps me from talking but it also holds my mouth open so that you can still fuck it."

Are you ready to come?

"Yes." My hand crept unbidden to my breast. "Please!"

Gag yourself.
This will hurt.

My hands shook so badly that I could barely strap the dripping gag in place. I began whimpering again, fear and longing and need in equal measure.

Clamp your nipples.

I picked up the silvery clamps, connected by chain, and placed each one directly over my nipples. White-hot flashes of pain radiated out from those aching points.

Now, use the spiky dildo.
Make yourself come.

My eyes widened. I twisted, found the toy, picked it up-a long, thick latex dildo, perfectly smooth, with four rows of short, blunt rubber spikes down its length. Robin sometimes used it as a punishment dildo; when I come with it inside me, I contract around those spikes, and it makes my orgasm hurt.

I held the dildo with both hands, braced myself, and shoved it in. I was long past the point of trying to be gentle; I wanted it to hurt, craved the feeling as much as I craved the humiliation, spurred on by that defiant streak of pride. I threw back my head and took myself hard. My nipples swelled against the clamps. My sphincter tightened painfully around the hard stone plug.

It didn't take long.

When the orgasm hit, I clenched hard around the spikes and screamed. I rammed myself harder and thrashed against the straps holding my legs apart. Pain lashed through my body, and I embraced it, exulted in it. Wave after wave after wave of ecstasy tore through me, each one riding on the pain, reinforcing it, and I moaned and howled around the gag at every thrust.