I rip the toy out with a wet pop, leaving him gaping and leaking. “Not enough,” I mutter. I slide into my leather harness, clicking the strap-on into place. This one is a monster—ten inches of hard, black rubber with a flared head designed to ruin him. I grab him by the hair, yanking his head back so he has to look at the beast he’s about to take.
“You’re going to learn how to take a real pounding,” I hiss. I flip him over, shoving his face into the pillow and hoisting his hips high. I line myself up and drive the strap-on home in one singular, devastating motion. He lets out a muffled shriek, his back arching in agony and ecstasy.
I don’t give him time to adjust. I start hammering into him, the leather harness creaking with every heavy thrust. “Does it hurt, sissy? Does it feel like you’re being split in half?” I laugh, slamming my hips against his ass. I reach around to pinch his nipples hard, adding to the sensory overload. “You’re just a toy for me to use. A dirty, leaking little sissy hole.” I increase the pace, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling the room as I treat his insides like a punching bag
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