6 comments/ 24481 views/ 4 favorites Basement Session By: roguelife6 This is my first attempt at BDSM. There is a middle portion broken off by dividers that is mostly description and background of the situation. If you are only interested in reading about the sexual encounter, you may wish to skip it. _________________________ He was her's. He was her play toy. He was her lifelike, human-sized ken doll. And at the moment, there was nothing he could do about it. Further there was nothing he could do gain a sense of what was happening. He had no control. He was in submission. His mind wandered over and over, trying to find a loophole out of the circle. His senses were completely neutralized. Vision? Check. The tight blindfold blocked any photon from entering his view. Touch? Check. His hands were very aggressively bound to the headboard of the bed. She had gotten stricter tonight; he couldn't move his wrists an inch. Damn, why did he have to make such resilient hand cuffs, he thought to himself. (his feet too were bound, to the footboard). Sound? Check. She had fitted him with earplugs. He toyed with the notion of letting one "slip" out, but he remembered his punishment from last time. Not physical torment, but emotional agony. That single instance, his cavalier attempt was immediately refuted, as she quickly straddled his hips, leaned forward aiming her lips to his open ear, and stated in one swift, confident breath, "you try this on me again, and I'll stop right this second, and leave your pathetic ass here to rot for the next three days." The fear in his mind screamed at him not to question if she was bluffing. Consider it a part of his training, he had validated. Smell? Check. She had learned over time, his sense of smell was keen, and could detect exactly where she was. It was her wet pussy that was the needle in the haystack that he always seemed to find. After several experiments, she learned to neutralize his nose by over-stimulating it by spraying the room with a combination of her favorite perfume and febreze (and what he hadn't discovered, custom-made silicone gel-lined panties). Taste? Check. She was smarter than to get close enough for him to put his lips on her (the weighted dog collar he wore made sure he didn't try to lean up for a taste whenever she was nearby). Instead, he lay there, waiting. Waiting. His mind would run a mile a second during this Anticipation. He knew that her ego thrived from it. She milked the Anticipation for everything she could. He could feel her eyes staring on his cock. Excuse me, Her cock. He had trained his mind not to refer to it as his cock in The Basement, something she had taught him early on. She would watch it until it signaled to her that he needed punishment. There in lied the unpredictability of the Anticipation. Her internal random encryption was uncrackable. In this instance, she always outsmarted him. ________________________ Meet tonight's protagonist: Khaseen. 6'1", 200lbs, stocky, former football player-esq build. Broad, toned shoulders, a tiny bulge of a beer gut, and a toned lower half. Deep brown, milk chocolate complexion, the kind that melts in your mouth, accentuated further by his preference to shave everything. Big, round, bold, dark brown eyes. Constant facial hair that reminded others of a 5 o'clock shadow no matter when he shaved. Wide, long, bulbous nose. Proportional lips, rough from biting, red from the constant blood rush. Short, unstylish, generic Supercuts hair. Big, thick hands, with roughened fingertips and palms. Clearly, he wasn't built to be submissive. God meant him to be a Dominant, alpha male. Meet tonight's antagonist (a term meant only to endear our sweet, devilish Sadist): Deepika. 5'4", 130lbs. 34C breasts, sized medium panties, and sized 7 dress. Her skin was two shades lighter from his milk chocolate tone, what her make up brand labeled a Medium Beige. She didn't believe in tan lines. Her skin was unnaturally smooth, what a childhood with a fashion-centric Nazi mother would typically dictate. She was proud to show off her feminine shoulders, but only her shoulders. She wasn't an exhibitionist. She was proud of her body, but was raised never to show it; again the Nazi Dictate. Her eyes were a soft, hazel blend of brown with full contrasting lashes, proportional to her frame. Her eyebrows were sculpted to perfection, not a single hair out of place. Her nose was curvier than she had liked, but did not detract from the rest of her face. Her lips were always pouty, full of god's collagenous blessing. They were always a shade of intense red, again from her favorite make up provider. She wore her hair short, a provocative angle from the shallowness in the back to the lengthy displacement in the front, nearly touching her shoulders. What celebrities referred to as the Bob cut. It was always straightened, a product of spending a half hour every morning in the bathroom. It had been her smile that gave Khaseen the courage to talk to her in their junior year elective Asian American Fiction course. Not the smile she had given him when she glanced at him during class, but the smile on her face when answering questions for the professor. She knew she was smart; she was confident in her opinions and wasn't afraid to share any of them. But she was also charming and courteous in her responses. She didn't act like a know-it-all. It was this characteristic that pushed him to interact with her, guarded from an embarrassing rejection. She politely agreed to a first date drink after their second exam. It was an enjoyable evening, and as we now know, the two became a serious couple. They are now 3 years into their marriage, in love as ever. The Basement was a clever concoction between the two. They bought their first home together 6 months after their marriage. Having gone to school out east, they were big fans of the colonial home design, and were fascinated by the basement space. However, they moved back home to California (read: earthquake country) where basements are a rare entity. One of the reasons they chose their particular home was a unique storage closet the size of a child's bedroom on the ground floor behind the garage and laundry room that reminded them of a basement space. As newly-weds, they argued for weeks how to occupy this space. He wanted to make it his wine cellar. She wanted it as a dressing room. As their every argument became more and more tense, the sex heated up. They were introducing themselves to the world of Bondage and Submission, and they both shared a growing interest in it. They took many turns being the Sadist and the Masochist. They were intelligent beings, and did a good job of separating their extracurricular activity from their day-to-day lives. They were by nature peaceful and patient. If anything, their arguments were full of passive-aggression, with fights ending with one leaving to retire to a separate bedroom. They usually made up over breakfast the following morning, apologizing for their often ridiculous indiscretions. Because of this dipole nature of their characters and interest in BDSM, they weren't able to practice this hobby as often as their brains fantasized, as their lips lacked inertia to vocalize to the other. That's when the idea of The Basement sprang. They would designate the coveted space as a hobby room, a Dungeon, of sorts. They stocked The Basement with an efficient queen bed with sturdy headboard and footboard, a full body-length mirror and a key-lock dresser. They improved the sound-proofing of the room. The dresser was amply stocked with various floggers, restraints, sex toys, clamps, etc. Many of them were hand-made, as both loved to put their engineering backgrounds to use. The bottom drawer contained outfits. A first aid kit was kept in the closet, along with various useful textiles. They set up a few rules. 1)Entering the room requires one to forget about the outside world. Transformation is required. 2)Inside the room, one person is assigned the Dominant, and the other the Submissive. 3)These roles are assigned by the subtle, encoded sign on the front door. Gender is decided by color. The Dominant is noted by letters, while the Submissive is noted by numbers. 4)Silence is to be maintained in the room. Only carefully chosen words are allowed. This rule will be enforced according to the Dominant's discretion. 5)Safe word to stop is "Children." Use of this safe word means all activities will stop immediately. The Submissive is then given the power to reinitiate, by choosing to remain or leave. The Dominant is not allowed to reinitiate nor engage the Submissive until a decision is made. 6)Apologies are never permitted. 7)Frequent discussions of the activities that occur in The Basement are discouraged. 8)Open wounds and visible bleeding are an automatic stopping point. The intensity of their sessions seemed to increase with each trial in The Basement. Over the course of the previous two and a half years, they had alternated, almost equally, between the Dominant and the Submissive. They seemed to use it only a few times a month, but typically in a concentrated fashion. There was a period after an unpleasant vacation with thes and the topic of grandchildren that prompted twelve consecutive sessions in The Basement. Over the course of these roughly thirty months, the safe word was uttered twice by her, and once by him. They found that rule seven was the hardest to follow. They amended it slightly, to include a once a week, Saturday or Sunday morning, coffee conversation about their sessions. They discussed what they enjoyed, what they didn't enjoy, and explored creative opportunities for the future. Critical comments were discouraged in these conversations. And the format really worked. They introduced each other to various fetishes and bondage styles. Their normal sex life was fantastic. Their love was growing. _________________________________________ He was still waiting. It was the Anticipation that she yearned for. That control. And watching Her cock during this anticipation. She slithered around the room, to prevent him from knowing where she was. But Her cock knew where she was. It always pointed to her. Waiting for her response. Her eyes were glued to the cock's bulbous head. Her left hand was grasping a switch. Something she had whittled from homegrown bamboo. She had carved the word "Bitch" into the handle, and her index finger was playing with the indent of the capital B. The length of the switch was parallel to her toned left thigh. Her breathing was silent; her body refused to stir. Her eyes were fixated at the tip of Her erect cock. She was waiting for the first ripple of involuntary PC muscle contraction. She saw Her cock twitch, starting from the base, and surging through the 6" shaft and cock head, all occurring during the span of a few milliseconds. Her discipline had taught her to catch it. Swat! The latter 4" end of the switch landed on his lateral right muscular thigh. His first thought, even before the rush of nerve stimulation, was that she was on his right, near the dresser. He remembered she was wearing a navy blue corset with yellow intricate lacy trim, with matching yellow hip-hugger thong. Her matching yellow lacy garter belt held up navy blue fine mesh stockings. A brief picture flashed in his mind, an image of her in these garments holding the switch in her hand standing next to the dark mahogany 5-chest drawer. Then his nerves fired off. The latency was enough to allow the picture to ghost for microseconds. But his thigh muscles were burning from the sensation. The milliseconds of contact with the wooden switch created a flushing of his flesh, followed by the glowing of an acute inflammation of burning red blood along the site of contact. At that moment, all he could feel was the burning sensation. It was the release of dopamine in his brain that released the block on his processing abilities and caused him to doubt the image in his head. There had been a wait of almost 5 minutes from when she had cut off his senses to his first punishment (he often counted to slow down his thoughts). She could have changed her outfit entirely, to screw with his head (certainly she had done it in the past). What could she have changed into? He wondered. His analysis went to the switch as the rush of endorphins overwhelmed the brief calm in his nerves. His skin radiated pain over his entire surface. In even those milliseconds of contact, he was sure he had felt organic wood against his thigh. That's how precise his training was. The intensity and surface area of the pain in his thigh made him sure it was a switch. Could it be the Bamboo Bitch, that she loved so much, or the Rattan Rig, that he preferred? From the moment of inertia still rippling in his thigh, he guessed it was the Bitch. This thought process didn't last long. Less than 45 seconds later, there it was again. Smack! Instantly his mind was desperate to process any sensation it could, and it was the smell of her perfume. Was she close to him? Or was it merely the perfume in the air? Had she even wore perfume today? His memory failed him. That was the purpose of the Anticipation. To play tricks on his mind. His nerve latency caught up. This time, they located the violated skin to his left lateral, upper pelvic bone. This time the pain sharply dug into his bone. Because of this, the instrument left no evidence of its indecent exchange with his skin. It was also partly due to his darker complexion. The pain was more substantial than the previous strike. She must have put more effort into it. It caused chaos in his mind. His brain was unsure whether to prioritize processing the pain or his confusion of the situation. The strike was so surgical, he was now convinced she had to be on his left side, standing near the closet. Were the doors open behind her? No, the agony fired back. Who cares if the window is open, the nerves in your pelvis are yearning for blood flow, his brain pleaded. With the rush of endorphins, this round was clearly won by the pain. He couldn't even focus enough to decipher the leather padded crop she used. The inability to process thoughts subsided as the dopamine surged. He felt vibration to his right as the springs of the mattress flexed, suggesting she had mounted the bed. He next felt a cool breeze over his bare, hairless chest. Immediately following, he felt human tissue surround his neck, above the thin, leather dog collar. It was her bare hand. As he was processing the image of her bare hands, a new sensation arose. Her right hand cradled Her cock. Her thin, delicate, dry, cool hand wrapped strongly around his quickly growing cock. But she merely held it. Her grasp was not forceful, but stern. Her fingers absorbed the involuntary contractions shuddering through Her cock from the temperature change. Meanwhile, her left hand maintained its position over his neck. It was a contrast to the left. Her grip was soft, merely stimulating his skin, massaging it. He deduced she wasn't after controlled breath play, but merely the power. And the view. He envisioned an almighty goddess, hovering above him, with her hand around the throat of her nemesis, contemplating mercy. Except, this goddess still had her hand around his cock. No no, Her cock. She held this position for a few minutes. The anticipation was torture. His mind was screaming at her to stroke his cock (correction, Her cock). A slight rub was all he was asking for at this point. But instead, she was moving in the scale of microns. She wasn't interested in getting him off. She was interested in getting herself off. His frustration escalated. His brain was now screaming to his lips to move, and say something. But he knew better. Saying something would only set him back further. He was fortunate, because he seemed to have passed her test. She removed her right hand, and rotated her right knee over Khaseen's torso and chest, and placed it to his left. He could feel her stocking rubbing against his bare sides, affirming the image of her outfit from earlier. But was it correct? He felt the heat from her pussy on the center of his chest. Only, he couldn't sense any fabric between her bare pussy and his chest. The realization in his head that she was wearing no panties opened the floodgates. The adrenaline shock flowed through his body. His cock grew even more, his cum boiling within. His mind lost handle of the situation, and started to flash images of a panty-less Deepika. His mouth began to salivate at the growing prospect of tasting her wetness. His nose was certain it could now smell her sex. She slid her left hand to the back of his neck, and swiftly removed the dog collar. He took this as a sign he was allowed to lean his head forward to reach around for a taste. Instead, her left hand replaced the collar on his neck, holding him down. This time, her grip was more aggressive, dictating to him that she was still in control. He was only allowed to move when she wanted him to. As she removed her hand, she playfully slapped him, creating more turbulence in his mind. She never does that, he speculated. Not when there is so much Anticipation. Something's not right. Something's different. Deepika slid her fingers through his short hair, to the back of his head. She unclasped the blindfold, and a stream of photons hit Khaseen's eager eyes. Her hand supported his tilted head. His dilated pupils began to quickly contract, but initially all he could see were blurry colors. As his lens focused light onto his retina, his heart sank. He could feel his salivating mouth dry up all of a sudden. The diameter of his esophagus shrank. Staring him straight in the eyes was a 7" disappointment named Bandit. His hopes of tasting her fell with his shocked jaw. This was the meaning of that playful slap; she knew Bandit would pit a knot in his stomach. Bandit was a 7" long, 1.75" circumference medium thickness, dark toned, realistic, silicone dildo. It was purchased 4 months ago, but Deepika had yet to utilize it. She had unveiled Bandit the weekend she purchased it, but Khaseen quickly replied the safe word. It was the only time to date he had used the term. The next coffee session, they talked about it. He had played with anal toys before, but never anything quite so big. Deepika had over-anticipated his adventurousness and thought he would quickly make the jump to a large strap-on. They made a deal that Bandit would be a goal, that Khaseen would work his way up to the 7 incher. Khaseen's stomach cried foul and begged him to utter the safe word. But he was determined to overcome Bandit this time around. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth for his eager Sadist. She pulled slightly on the back of his head, the same way he had the last time they were in The Basement. Khaseen's focus was too strongly on Bandit to appreciate the allusion. She noticed his dry mouth from the surprise, and feigned mercy. She helped him lubricate his oral cavity by dribbling her abundant saliva through his hesitant lips. The saliva fell at a rate he considered a violation of gravity, taking its time before it contacted him. A second stream quickly followed the first. The bubbly, viscous mass dripped onto his lower lip, juxtaposing his dry, cracked, rough tissue. He instinctively licked it off, coating his tongue with the faint, diluted taste of her sweet lips. As Bandit's tip touched Khaseen's flat tongue, his own saliva started to trickle in. The taste was surprising to Khaseen. It was sweet. She must have coated Bandit with cherry-flavored lube, to entice Khaseen to continue to swallow the silicone mold. He had done this once before. He remembered what she savored from this exchange was eye contact. The sparkle in his timid eyes was what gave reassurance to her grasp of control. This too was the same entity Khaseen savored most when the roles were switched. He stared into her electric eyes, only wishing the conditions had been reversed. Basement Session As Khaseen began to take the second inch of Bandit into his o-shaped mouth, Deepika eased her grip on his head. Instead, she used both her hands to support his neck and jaw. It was a passive control maneuver, luring his anticipating mouth onto Bandit. Her eyes started to roll back into the back of her head. Khaseen thought, was she acting? Mocking his own reactions when she was the one working her lips? No, he found the real reason. Between the 2nd and 3rd inch, his mind had overcame the initial shock of the setting. After the 3rd inch of Bandit entered through his tight, flush lips, he could feel a vibration originating at the base of the strap-on harness. He remembered the vibe pouch built into the harness situated just above Deepika's clitoris. After the 4th inch, the smell of her wet, shivering pussy began to intoxicate Khaseen. His mind stopped focusing on sucking off Bandit, and onto getting close enough to Deepika's sweet nectar. His fortunately long tongue gave him ideas: maybe, if he could ease Bandit deeper into his throat, he might be able to sneak a lick of Deepika's cunt. But he had never deep-throated a rubber dildo before. The 5th inch passed Khaseen's lips; he could feel the pressure build in the back of his throat. He could feel his gullet trying to open up and accommodate the foreign object. This new sensation of the cock head rubbing his tonsils was riveting. The vibrations it created against his oral wall could be felt through his head. The ear plugs were radiating from the increase of pressure in his skull. It than flashed his mind a new meaning of being skull fucked. His rate of dildo engulfment deteriorated, as his gag reflex kicked up. He felt the sharp contraction start in his diaphragm and it quaked through his lungs, trachea and oral walls. The cough dislodged the cock from his pharynx, and it sharply reverberated against his teeth and lips. Deepika, admiring her view, realized his struggle and pulled back instinctively, releasing her grasp on his neck. She was controlling, but not heartless. She gave him two seconds to catch his breath, and reinserted the cock past his unsuspecting lips. He struggled to unclasp his jaw to accommodate the dildo. Slowly, but surely, Khaseen took the bulk of Bandit into his mouth again. To really sell the simulated face fucking, he clenched his cheeks for Deepika's wandering eyes. He applied some suction to the dildo and began to slide his lips back and forth on the cock. He was using his neck more assertively, and her hand again graced the back of his head, to slow down his amateurish blow job. He realized that as he pulled the dildo back with his tight lips, the harness was moving too, dislodging the hidden vibe from contacting her pussy. She compensated by pulling harder on his head, effectively forcing him to take the cock deeper into his mouth, rather than move the harness back into place. He was unprepared for her aggressive hand, and the tip of Bandit again triggered his gag reflex. He pulled out more forcibly this time. After he coughed several times, she again grabbed his head, aiming his salivating mouth for Bandit. Taking 3 inches in, he again tried to pull the harness backwards again. Immediately, her eyes shot open. She must have realized what he was doing. Slap! Her left hand dragged past his right cheek in a sharp, stern slap. The contrast, from his previously chocolate complexion to the now sterile white tone, was remarkable. It lasted a millisecond, as the tissue engorged with blistering red fluid. The pain in the right side of his face forced him to pause. He yearned to comfort his offended surface with his hands, but the restraints effectively did their job. Her hands quickly removed the ear plugs, tossing them aside in anger. Her left hand briefly comforted his engorged right cheek, but then quickly slapped him twice, much softer than before. His agony-stricken face burned angrily to this further insult. His mind screamed in the confines of his skull. The pain blistered out over the rest of his face, creating an increasing circumference of humility. Her medium-soprano voice sharply stung, "You do that again and I'll stop. I'll put your blindfold back on, tape your mouth shut, and bring myself to orgasm right here above your face." Just to drive home the point, she slapped his recovering right cheek one last time. His brain was just simply over-saturated to process this new assault. In his apprehensive state, he missed the devilish grin on her face. Khaseen had been strong-armed into submission. Inside, somewhere in his heart, there too was a smile. She grabbed his head and continued to push the dildo down his throat. This time there was no playing around. He took the first 5" effortlessly, in almost one suave stroke. He continued on to take those final two inches. Getting the 6th inch in was tricky, but he was able to get it in past his throat. The tightness around his thorax opening was an incredible new feeling. He kept his neck steady, in hopes of maneuvering that final inch down. Each final quarter-inch pushed into his trachea, heightening his nerves. He concentrated on relaxing his throat as much as possible, to subside the slowly creeping gag reflex. He concentrated on taking it all the way, to get a taste of her sweet pussy. At this point he was willing to endure any punishment just to get a taste of her pussy. He was determined not to end the night without tasting her. Seconds later, he had succeeded. His nose dove harshly into the leather of her harness, fluttering from the vibrations of the hidden toy. The vibration was even more intense on the middle of his tongue, as he tried to flex his tongue as far down as the cock down his throat would allow. His gag reflex slowly began to build, and he forced himself to relax, and concentrate on getting her honey. His diaphragm was becoming sore. The pressure down his throat was too much, and he knew it was coming. So he frantically flicked his tongue crazily, hoping to make any contact it could. Flick! His tongue rubbed her throbbing pussy for a full second, creating an electric surge between the tip of his moist tongue and her lubricated clit. The taste of the sweet, sticky nectar was too much for Khaseen. His tongue, in a frenzied state for a longer taste, slightly expanded, reverberating the silicone dildo down his throat, thrashing against his pharynx. The pressure triggered an even more violent gag reflex. At the same time, the wet, silkiness of Khaseen's tongue pushed Deepika over the edge, into a mind-clearing, sense-stopping orgasm. In her brief unconscious, orgasmic state, she pulled harder on his head, pushing her dildo right back into his spasming, gaging throat. He further choked on the silicone, concentrating his efforts to fight her stern grasp rather than to relax his muscles. His diaphragm continued to contract violently. His body was on fire from the intrusive foreign object. The expelled air from his abused lungs screamed bloody murder. After the fourth dulled spasm from her clitoral orgasm, Deepika quickly gained a hold of the situation. She released his head and immediately pulled the strap-on out of his mouth. He continued to cough violently, spewing strings of saliva onto his chest, neck, and shoulders. His lips were covered with bubbly, angry fluid, still shaking from the strong vibrations originating from his thoracic cage. His chest heaved, displacing rapidly up and down, glistening from her slight orgasmic ejaculate. Herself recovering from a tremendous orgasm, Deepika stepped off the bed, and lost control of her leg muscles, falling back and up against the wall, squatting herself to support her trembling body. Her corset covered breasts were shivering from the rushed inhalation of oxygen, with her arms holding her knees close to her chest, absorbing the muted aftershocks from her post-ecstatic pussy. He didn't notice her vulnerability from this immense orgasm, as he continued to cough through his violated trachea, turning his head into the sheets of the bed, struggling to break the restraints to comfort himself. They both took a break, to recuperate. Deepika removed the vibe from her secret pocket, and stood up to tidy herself. She looked at herself in the full length mirror to make sure she was mentally ready for the next part, the main course. She stepped towards Khaseen's resting body, laying onto the bed next to him. She places a soft kiss on his timid lips, and reaches up to unlock the wrist restraints. As each hand frees, he began to rub his neck and chest, to wipe off whatever spewed saliva would come off in an effort to mask his vulnerability. She broke from their kiss, getting up to crawl over to his feet. She removed both restraints, tossing them to the floor. He sat up in order to get closer to her, and reconnect his lips to her. As their lips continued to stimulate one another, she grabbed his right hand, and placed it onto Bandit. He had momentarily forgotten about the dildo, about what was to come. His nervous hands slipped over the cock as they continued to kiss. His own flesh was growing mightily. Deepika briefly broke away from the kiss to grab a bottle of lube. She dripped some onto Bandit, and onto her hand. She brought the bottle into bed with her. Kissing him more assertively, she rubbed the lube onto Her cock. She used both of her hands over his flesh, rubbing the lube onto the shaft, and some onto the balls. As he shyly placed his right hand back over the head of Bandit, this time using the lube to stroke his hand over the 7" length. A sparkle appeared in his eye; even after his assault, he was ready for more. She stopped stroking Her cock, and broke away from his lips. She motioned for him to turn around, and spread out on all fours. She grabbed the bottle of lube as he rotated himself into his submissive position. She poured lube onto her fingers as he spread his butt cheeks to show his shaved asshole. They frequently performed anal sex, and always prepared ahead hygienically. She used her lubed left index finger to penetrate his tight, puckered asshole. His willing sphincter was easily able to accommodate her tiny, feminine pointer. He relaxed his muscles as she pushed her digit in the full length. She rotated it around to lube up his opening more precisely, also slightly bending at both knuckles. She pulled it out and penetrated with two fingers. The tightness began to grow against his sphincter. He could feel every inch of those two fingers slide up his dark tunnel. The feeling of fullness was enough to maintain the erection he had sported in her tiny hands. She fucked his ass with her two fingers for a couple of minutes. Her other hand occasionally reached down to touch his throbbing flesh. Her cock was tight, as were his cum-filled balls. Her touch was cool to his warm, radiating testicles. They jerked up, tightening his scrotum. She continued to rub his balls as she slid out her fingers. She coated her fingers with more lube as she prepped three fingers to explore his slowly gaping asshole. He was ready for something larger, and his ass almost immediately ate up her fingers. As she got past the first knuckle, she could feel his inner sphincter slightly contract. He felt his inner resistance, and tried to relax. He thought to his self, maybe that toy won't be so easy. The pressure inside his rectal walls was increasing. He could feel the width of each finger, providing a unique, non-symmetric feeling. His nerves were trying to fill the gaps where her fingers failed to apply pressure. Past the second knuckle, the feeling was turning into immense pleasure. A smile painted his face as dopamine released into his brain. All he could think about at that time was being filled with something bigger, something that would put him over the edge and into ecstasy. He yearned for that orgasm. Deepika must have read his mind, as she withdrew her fingers from his gaping, relaxed anus. She dropped one last dollop of lube onto Bandit, preparing it for the dark adventure. She positioned herself to place Bandit's head at his anal opening. Before she started to push, she noticed he was pushing his ass backwards slightly. Before entering him, she smacked him across his right ass. He stopped, smiling to himself. She repositioned herself, and pushed enough to slide Bandit's head into Khaseer's asshole. Bandit's diameter was a whole new experience for Khaseer. The initial half inch passing his two sphincters felt like his asshole was about to rip apart. Even with all the lube, the pressure was too intense for his sphincter, and a new stinging sensation arose. His breathing picked up. He even became slightly audible, muttering "ahhhh." Fortunately, for him, Deepika didn't hear him. She was so intently focused on watching her dildo spread his asshole to a whole new width. She could feel herself getting wet watching herself split her lover apart. No wonder he always wants to fuck my ass, she must have thought. His resistance amplified exponentially as his muscles jerked into contraction. He was nervous he would have to force her to stop. The resistance was too much and the dildo was pushing harder back on Deepika's groin. Her swollen, sensitive clit gauged this pressure quickly, and deduced he needed to relax to order to accommodate her strap-on. She pulled back ever so slightly, leaning over to kiss his lower back. She placed another kiss two inches to the right of the first. She reached around his waist with her right hand and grasped his erect cock with her thin fingers. Her soft touch was enough for him to refocus his thoughts on his cock and not his asshole. His sphincter again relaxed, and she decided to force in Bandit's bulbous head. She put slightly more pressure against the dildo base to slide the length of the head into his asshole. The stinging again came back, but the sensation on his cock of her playful touch was enough to keep him relaxed. With a little more pressure, she guided the bell-shaped head into her Submissive's asshole. She was inside him. She waited a second for his muscles to recuperate before she forged on to slide it further into his ass. The overabundant lube eased the stinging sensation at his sphincter, and the fullness inside his rectal walls was more intense than any previous penetration he had experienced. The thickness of the dildo was overwhelming, and he could feel his rectal walls stretching to accommodate the shape. The curvature of the dildo too applied pressure in unique locations inside Khaseen, as opposed to the p-spot specific toys he had previously used. This new sensation combined with Deepika's stroking was oversaturating his mind. His brain was numb swimming in a sea of dopamine. His erection was near boiling in Deepika's hand. Her cock was as hard as she could ever remember from their Basement sessions. It was attributed to Bandit. Inch by inch, Bandit made its way deeper into his anus. At the 5" mark, another unique pressure spot was created around his inner sphincter, as the tapered base began to further stretch his asshole. The stinging continued. A new wave of endorphins awoke his saturated neurons. Milliseconds later, the stinging was too intense for him. His hand quickly reached back to push against her thigh. She wasn't having any of it. She removed her hand from his erection. She slapped away his hand and pulled the dildo back an inch. She dropped another dollop of lube onto the dildo, and began to slide Bandit back into his stretched asshole. Again the stinging came back. She reached down to handle Her cock. This time she stroked it more vigorously. She accelerated the pleasurable strokes while applying a firmer grasp. Contact sites along his shaft for each of her fingers were burning red. He gritted his teeth to muscle through those last two inches, but it wasn't happening. Deepika decided to hold off on those last two inches. Mercy would be defined at the 5" mark. She took every opportunity to properly fuck his ass. Her shallow thrusts at the interface of the expanding diameter were making him whimper. She had only heard those sounds coming from herself, when it was he who was deep in her ass. The fullness always triggered her full-body orgasms, and she reveled in the fact that his was building up too. Soon, she would make the allusion come true for him. Her hands moved from his shaft onto his balls and perineum. She rubbed them like they were her clit, fast and hard. As the harness leather contacted his ass cheeks, his moans were far more audible. He was breaking the rule. But she was exciting, probably because his ecstasy gave him the courage to break her rules. Her ravenous state from the opportunity to punish him was saturated in the calm before the storm. She removed her hand from his scrotum, and pulled the length of the dildo out of his ass. She popped the bulbous head out of his asshole, and watched the opening slowly close. She tapped the dildo onto his ass, smiling at the crude gesture she had made. She then turned back to inserting the dildo back into his gaping hole. This time, she wasn't going to be merciful; it was his punishment. The shock of her aggression made him gasp for air, the stinging as sharp as ever. The bell-shaped head furiously dragged across his sphincter, finding a path in at all costs. He realized she was making him pay for all the reluctant anal sessions he put her threw. But at the same time, the exodus of endorphins building in his brain took his mind off the past, and onto the stimulation he was receiving. It was incredible. The feeling of fullness was something he couldn't control, the sensation was incomparable to the pleasure he obtained from his cock. No no, Her cock. The length of the dildo slid in past the bulbous head, finding a resilient path in its way. His muscles had tensed far more, creating more pressure and more pleasure in his gut. His brain was overstimulated from the war between the endorphins and the dopamine, in ecstasy from his Dominant's aggressive fucking. She fucked his ass faster, dragging the full length of the dildo against his innards. She popped the head of her strap-on in and out of his tightening sphincter, each time reveling in his desperate gasps. The view of his pink puckered asshole swallowing Bandit was blissful. Her hand had returned to his shaft. She could feel the urgency for his need to come from over-stimulation. Her cock was throbbing from blood and cum backflow, begging for release. It was visibly a jumbled mesh of conflicting purple, blue, red, pink, and brown. It trembled in her hand, as if a metal rod reverberating to produce sound. Her ass-fucking paced slowed and her cock-stroking pace grew. She was determined to work in those last two tapered inches. He was too, stinging be damned. She applied more pressure and forced those last two inches in. She watched as the base of her harness was in contact with his hairless ass cheeks, the dildo completely disappearing into his dark tunnel. His mind was entranced. The fullness numbed his mind. He felt his senses slowly dull, like the fading end of a movie. He could no longer feel the sensation from her stroking hand. The pressure in his rectal walls was beginning to spasm, spilling over into his balls. The contractions were in unison, and made Deepika stroke and fuck him harder. His head fell onto the bed, his brain turned to mush from the impact, and his lips inaudibly worded jumbled non-sense. The spasms quickly increased in magnitude and frequency. They resonated through his rectal walls, through his balls, and along the shaft of his erection. The tip of Her cock quivered briefly before each spurt. The first couple flights of his seed landed past his unconscious head, further tainting the sweat-soaked, saliva-encrusted, ruffled fabric that once resembled bed sheets. The remaining cum shots exponentially declined in distance, running out of fuel as the strap-on slid out of his exasperated anus. His spent body collapsed into the cum-defiled sheets. His eyes were closed and his mind has collapsed into the sea of dopamine. Basement Session She watched him lying vulnerably on the bed as she cleaned up. She removed the strap-on and harness, satisfied as a successful Dominant. She walked out of the room, changing the sign. Next time it would be her as the pool of unconscious, defiled flesh lying on the Basement bed for hours.