Rigged

I'm on my back, wrists bound carefully together with rope and tied above my head to the top of a rack. My legs are parted, tied to a steel spreader bar which is winched up exposing my ass. I'm wearing a corset and some pants which have been moved to reveal more of me. At some point clamps are attached to my labia, spreading me further. I am being displayed, toyed with. I'm blindfolded so can't see what is happening making it all the more exciting and I can feel my cunt getting wetter as I'm lightly beaten with a crop. Blows alternate between smooth strokes of firm hands on my increasingly receptive skin.

I'm given a cane to bite down on and I relish the further restriction. As the sensations continue, I start to whimper a little, quietly, not out of pain because I'm enjoying it, but because I'm becoming increasingly desperate to be fucked. I know that I'm moving slightly into the blows, craving the continuing stimulation and riding the wave of the escalating impacts. I'm trying not to thrust against them, but I want to. My legs start to twitch and my muscles throb in anticipation of an orgasm that isn't going to happen. I feel myself shake with imposed pleasure as I am held there, pinned.

Beneath the rack is a cage, The Photographer is in it, I heard him being put there. I know he can hear me and I wonder how I sound. After a time, he is let out and made to crawl between my spread legs where both of us can be beaten together. He is also blindfolded, and I know that his cock is bound with a strip of leather. He's on top of me, moaning against my face as the crop hits him and he jerks forward. I can feel his hips against my thighs, I can't touch him and he can't fuck me. It's agony and it's wonderful.