“What about that?” I whisper. “Do you like that too?”
“Yes, sir.”
I pull on the belt with my other hand, tightening it, choking her as I’m fingering her.
“How about now?” I ask.
She nods.
“Say it.”
“Yes, sir,” she manages to croak out. Her face is quickly turning red.
I start fingering her more aggressively, causing her to search more deeply for the air that isn’t reaching her lungs.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask her.
She shakes her head.
“What?”
“No,” she says. Her breath is barely a whisper.
“No what?”
“No, sir.”
By now, I can’t really even hear her. It’s more like lip-reading. But she’s a trooper, that much is for sure. She doesn’t want to look like she’s tapping out.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
She nods, not even bothering trying to talk anymore.
Her lips are slightly open and her eyelids are starting to flutter. Her chest is heaving with effort as I continue to finger her, overloading her senses with pure enjoyment while she suffers through not being able to breathe. A paradox that some people spend their lives searching for.
It isn’t until her head starts to slump to the side that I release my hold on her, relaxing the hold the belt has on her throat at the same time I slip my fingers from her pussy. Taking away the pleasure and the pain at the same time.
She takes a couple of deep, shuddering breaths and the color rushes back to her face. She turns her head towards me, glaring at me with a look that is part anger part excitement.
I reach up with my hand that was just inside her pussy and slip my still-wet fingers into her mouth. I jam them down her throat, causing her to gag. I fuck her mouth with my fingers for a few pumps then give her cheek a little smack.
Her glare turns harsher.
“You didn’t like that did you?”
She just looks at me, not sure how to answer, or if she even should.
“It’s okay,” I say. “You can tell me the truth.”
“No,” she says.
I smack her again, harder this time.
Her eyes narrow.
“What about that time? Did you like it?”
“Yes, sir,” she says but her tone suggests otherwise.
