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Using my free hand, I grab the second object off the bed: steel wool, worked into a donut shape. My rendition of a masochistic pocket pussy. Adding lube to my free hand, I run it over the length of Miles’ cock, spreading the slick liquid over every inch. Miles relaxes into my touch, his asshole releasing slightly. The moans slowly return as I work his ass and cock in tandem. I allow him a few moments of pleasure. Until I replace my hand with the steel wool, it’s jagged edges catching against the smooth skin of his dick.

“Did you know,” I ask, moving the steel wool into position around his swollen head, “that the vaginal walls rip when a woman is raped? Especially if there’s no lubrication. Ripped to shreds. And the pain that lingers from that can last for weeks.”

I slip the wool down a millimeter. Miles whimpers, so I slip it one more.

Leaning forward, I whisper into his ear.

“I hope this feels as awful for you as it did for me.”

I slam the steel wool down the entire length of his shaft, my hand bouncing off the hilt of his cock. Miles crows, his skin turning beat red. Shivers run through him as his body tries to understand the current sensations. I don’t give him time to adjust.

With a hammering pace, I jack him off. Imbuing all my hate into each pump.

He cries through the whole thing, but his cock never softens. It only takes a few minutes, but the lube mixed with the blood bubbling up from the micro tears in the skin causes him to ejaculate. His cum splatters the black bed sheets beneath him.

“Disgusting.”

I drop his wilting penis onto the bed, leaving the wool wrapped around his member.

Done with the second act. Time for the finale.

Not bothering to change my gloves, I pick up the final item on my table.

Neon pink with glitter and girthy as hell, my favorite dildo is ready for her time to shine. She’s also about ten inches long, but that never satisfied me the way being stretched did. The length was a secondary perk to buying her.

Placing the dildo at my groin, I snap it into place against the harness. A strap-on fit for a princess. Or one really, ungrateful bastard.

Miles is silent as I prepare myself. Little ticks and clicks echo through the space, alerting him that I’m grabbing more items, but he has no idea what’s in store for him.

I smack his ass as I stride towards his waiting face. He yelps against the ball gag, now fully slathered in a thick coat of saliva.

“Be a good boy and don’t bite me,” I threaten, slapping his cheek in warning.

Unhooking the toy from behind his head, Miles spits the ball gag out before I have a chance to remove it. He sputters, dragging in heaps of fresh air into his lungs. Snot drips from his nose. Spittle runs down the sides of his face. His eyes are bloodshot from screaming so hard.

Once he composes himself, he finds a little more fight.

“Mary, what the fu?—"

I silence him before he finishes that sentence, shoving the tip of the massive dildo between his swollen lips. A small puff of air leaves Miles’ nostrils, the dildo blocking his main airway.

I pet his hair back, pulling his gaze up to me. His eyes wander the length of my body despite his predicament.

“You’ve always been good at staying quiet. Except for when it benefited you, it seems.”

I thrust my hips forward, slipping the dildo deeper into his mouth. The toy stops barely three inches in, tapping the back of his throat and making him gag. I pull back slightly, allowing him to take a deep breath through his nose.

“So now, I’m going to do what benefits me and I'll silence you.” I smile wickedly. “Forever.”

Pulling my hips all the way back, I trust forward with every ounce of strength I have. The dildo bounces off the back of Miles’ throat, resulting in another gagging sound. Ignoring it, I pull back again. This time, I slowly slide forward, allowing his mouth and throat to stretch around the phallic object. His lips pale around its girth, the corners of his mouth beginning to turn red as micro tears form from the size. Trickles of blood slowly dribble to his chin, dripping onto the bed.

Miles’ irises shake, pleading for a break. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

How many nights did I share tears with him? Worried that I was going insane or something worse was happening? And what did he do? Nothing. But he continued with whatever served him.

What’s that old saying? An eye for an eye.

Tapping a button on the bottom of the dildo, a vibrator comes to life against my clit. The buzzing sensation drills straight to my core. I trust my hips again, this time lost in the rise of my own desires.