Invited to the Resort’s North Tower by the two women she’d met at one of the Resort’s Vacation Club exclusive beachfront bars. They’d promised Evelyn a night of
both extreme pleasure and pain, of mind-blowing orgasms and diabolically unbearable torture. Arriving at the North Tower dungeon, they’d helped Evelyn out of her
evening gown before securing her upon this steel saddle.
The sharp upper edge of the cold steel saddle between my widely stretch thighs dug painfully into my crotch, the tight restraints making it impossible to relieve the pressure crushing my throbbing clitoris against that sharp steel edge. The steady throbbing pain radiating from my crotch, along with the tight-fitting collar, the blindfold, and the thick phallic-shaped rubber gag filling my mouth, all combining to fan the desperate flames of my darkly masochistic desires.
My host’s intentionally vague comments about what lay ahead only served to fuel my darkly vivid imagination as I eagerly awaited their return. They wanted to change out of their evening gowns. We all knew that even the Resort’s highly skilled dry cleaners have trouble getting bloodstains out, and in the North Tower’s dungeons, there’s always blood, lots and lots of it...