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Master almost always included pain when he played with his puppies. Sometimes it was as gentle as a light swat on the ass while he fucked them from behind. This time, he was in a mood though.
He'd come home after a week away and stomped up the stairs immediately. He did not even leash Wren, just ordering him in a stern voice to follow him. Wren did so nervously, tail between his legs instead of wagging like usual. Master was mad at something, and he hoped it wasn't something he had done. He couldn't remember misbehaving.
"This isn't a punishment for you," Master said. He still didn't sound happy as he cuffed Wren into one of the sex swings. That quelled Wren's anxieties, though. Master did not lie to them.
Wren settled comfortably into the soft leather restraints. Master pulled out a great variety of tools from well-organized drawers under the bed. Wren recognized many of the implements from his training, and he knew what sort of playtime he was in store for instantly.
Master cuffed a spreader bar between his thighs, solid black metal and soft velvet. He couldn't move more than an inch in either direction, and the bar kept him spread wide open for easy access. He opened his mouth to accept a soft silicone bone. Master tied the gag around the back of his head, the metal buckle pressing uncomfortably against his hair.
Then Master did something he did not usually do. He turned on the speakers in the room. Soft, meditative music flowed out of the speakers embedded in the ceiling. Master undressed completely, leaving only his glasses on. His cock was half-hard and slowly growing longer between his thighs.
Wren watched with perked ears as Master picked up his first implement, a paddle made of folded leather that produced a satisfying clap against his palm. He looked down at it, then looked to Wren.
"This isn't a punishment. But it will hurt." That promise sent a spark of fear and arousal up Wren's spine. He wriggled in the swing.
Master held him by the bar between his legs and pulled back until the paddle was behind him. Wren heard the crack of his powerful strike before he felt the broad band of pain bloom across his lower ass. He jerked against the wrist cuffs, biting a cry of surprise and pain into the bone gag. Master dragged the leather paddle up the line of his cunt. Then he hit him again at the junction of his thigh and cheek.
"So easy to mark," he said, punctuating his words with another pair of hits to Wren's backside.
Wren's tongue worked over the textured surface of the silicone in his mouth. He was drooling around it, spit running down his chin. He whimpered and wagged his tail at the compliment. He felt the blood rushing to the surface where he'd been hit, no doubt an angry red already.
Master seemed to unleash all his tension in the ferocity of his swings. He paddled the outside of both of Wren's thighs, forming a ladder of lines across the skin. The music was almost drowned out by the sound of each percussive smack. At some point a gentle low flute had started playing. It felt like an almost comical contrast to the treatment Wren was receiving.
Wren squealed and panted through his nose all the while. He could not close his thighs, could not cover himself from the blows. His cunt throbbed every time the paddle met his skin.
With Wren's thighs sufficiently red and burning, Master set the paddle aside and moved on to the next. His thighs ached already, but he knew Master had more tools he wanted to use today. He never pulled out more than he needed.
The man's hand settled around a leather handle attached to a bundle of uniform, thin rods of wood. They rattled together like a rattlesnake giving warning before striking.
Wren had not yet experienced this toy, but it looked quite similar to the flogger Master liked to use on their sides and bellies. He knew it would be a lot harder than the supple leather tongues he was used too. He swallowed hard and looked to Master for reassurance. He found none in the man's steely eyes.
"Don't hold back tears now, pup," he said in a low voice. Wren remembered his branding, how Master had happily fucked his mouth while tears ran down his face. He seemed to like when Wren could not control his reactions.
Wren nodded eagerly. He could already feel them starting to well up in his eyes.
Master waggled the bundle a bit in his fist, then aimed for Wren's inner thighs. The canes spread out across his skin and left thin lines of stinging pain where they made contact. Wren arched his back and his heels dug into the straps that held his legs aloft. His chest heaved as he tried to breathe through the pain. His inner thighs were so sensitive. Master loved to torture him with that fact.
He hardly had time to recover from the first batch of swings before another hit landed across his bruising ass. The canes felt like sparks on his reddened skin.
If Master was counting his strikes at all, Wren couldn't tell. Each rattle and thwack of the bundle made Wren shake. He felt like he was floating and buried under several tonnes of concrete simultaneously. He writhed in his cuffs, tail lashing in the air, but Master did not relent in his hits.
The dam burst and tears flowed down his face. They caught on the gag's strap, then continued on their winding path. He sobbed into the silicone between his teeth. Blood roared in his ears, drowning out everything but the canes hitting his ass. He felt like a mess. His face was wet with tears and spit, and he could hardly see through the blur. In spite of all the pain, his dick was rock-hard and his cunt was dripping.
Wren could not even beg for mercy. Not that he expected Master would give it if he asked, but he could only groan wordlessly into the gag. His throat felt raw already.
Wren's skin was quickly turning purple and it burned with a constant, fiery sting. His vision was becoming static at the edges, but before he was consumed by it, Master stopped. He took up Wren's entire field of view, the image of him swirling as Wren sucked in air as hard as he could, coughing around the gag.
For a long moment, Wren was left drowning in the sensation of too much pain and uncomfortable pleasure. Master grabbed a fistful of his hair and lifted him to look Wren in the eye.
"You take a beating so well. I'm sorry to say, our fun isn't over yet pup. But I know you can handle it." Master let his head drop again, and Wren whimpered against the gag. His thighs were trembling hard in their restraints. Master caressed his swollen and bruised flesh with a reverent hand, observing his handiwork with satisfaction.
He wasn't sure he could handle it.
While Wren hiccupped and mewled in the swing, Master picked up two more toys. The first was small and round, about the size of an egg, with a coin-sized remote dangling from a cord on one end. This one he pressed against Wren's quivering cunt lips. It slipped inside with little resistance and left only the remote hanging from his lips.
Master toyed with the remote and the egg began buzzing inside him in short pulses. The pleasure surprised Wren, making him gasp and writhe. Despite his moans, the tears still fell.
The second toy was not so fun. Master held in his hand a forked leather strap on a thick, woven handle. Wren understood the purpose when he felt Master tickle it against his pussy. He squeezed around the vibrator in fear, then shuddered as it pressed into his g-spot. He wasn't ready to feel it hit him.
Wren howled in pain, his whole body going taut in the swing and his muscles trembling with the force of it. The leather lashed his lips and it stung in a way he hadn't experienced since obedience training. His chest shuddered when he tried to suck in a breath past the gag. He felt like his teeth might shatter if he bit down any harder on it.
"Doesn't feel very good, does it? Look how red your poor cunt is." Master used his other hand to cup Wren's oversensitive pussy. The puppy whined at the burning his touch elicited. Master smacked him there, then raised the toy again. Wren pulled at the cuffs on his wrists, the skin raw and uncomfortable. He choked on a sob.
Master pushed his thighs into his chest with one hand on the bar. He cracked the leather against Wren's cunt. The forked tips lashed either side of his hole and made him clench, the cord bobbing between his legs. His dick throbbed angrily. He could see his own slick shining on the black leather.
Wren could feel his lips swelling, more from the impact than his arousal, but still he squeezed and squeezed around that little egg buzzing away inside him. His entire body felt like a live wire.
When Master finally let up on the abuse, Wren hardly noticed. His skin was almost numb, buzzing with endless pain. He raised his head in confusion, but Master gave him little time to register why he'd stopped.
"Mmh!" Wren jerked when he felt the vibrator tear from his pussy. It was accompanied by a slick pop, then continued to buzz in Master's hand. He turned it off and tossed it aside, then dropped both of his tools on the bed.
Master grabbed him by the pussy. He gave a firm squeeze, then a smack that rang out over the gentle melody playing overhead. His fingers sank into the slit of Wren's swollen pussy. He shook his hand when he pulled it away, droplets of Wren's arousal falling from his fingers.
Master lined his cock up and pushed into Wren's hole. It stung to feel the man's length stretch him open and push deep into his hungry pussy. He gripped Wren's thighs, ignoring his whine of discomfort. His nails dug into the purpling skin.
Wren couldn't stop crying. Each thrust punched a pitiful sound out of Wren's lungs. He swung back and forth, the force of the man's rough fucking shaking him in the swing.
"Cry for me, pup. Scream. Let me hear how much it hurts." Master practically bent him in half and on his next thrust he slapped Wren's thighs. He seemed to be purposefully aiming for the worst bruises, where the canes and paddle marks overlapped.
Wren screamed himself hoarse. Spit dripped down his chin as he clamped down on the gag and begged wordlessly for mercy. Master's hips slammed against his ass. He used the momentum of the swing to bury himself in Wren over and over, grunting as he used Wren for his own pleasure. This was what he was made for. It hurt so much, but his body still loved it. He loved serving his master. He loved being a toy for the man. He was an object, a hole to use and abuse to relieve Master's urges.
Master slammed in once, twice, then a third time and began to spill hot and messy into his cunt. He growled like an animal, his grip tightening even further. Wren's thighs tensed in his hands.
Wren winced as he slipped out of his pussy. A splatter of cum hit the floor shortly after. It was only then he noticed how much of a mess he was. His face was streaked with spit, tears, and snot from sobbing into the gag. His thighs were nearly maroon, crisscrossed with nearly black lines from the canes. Wren couldn't see beyond his thighs, but no doubt his pussy lips were just as bruised and swollen.
"Good boy, Wren."
If Wren had the energy, he would have wagged his tail. His body was drained. He hadn't even cum himself, but Master didn't always care if he finished.
Master first unbuckled the gag and let him breathe. The corners of Wren's mouth were raw. He was released from the sex swing and, after stumbling toward it on trembling legs, he was allowed to lay on the bed. Master did not comment on his shaking and gasping. He only had as long as it took Master to put away their toys to recover. When the music turned off, it was time to go.
It was agony to walk back up the stairs. Wren was brought back to the room and left there to be absorbed into the cuddle pile of other pups. They soothed the ache in his legs and cleaned his face of tears. It hurt, but Wren was just happy to be a good boy.
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