Page 12 of Breaking Vincent

The flat belongs to Jamie – one of my bosses’ boyfriends, and I love how he had it decorated, so I didn’t have to change much. I bought some new furniture and added my own personal touch to the space.

The one room I did change was the second bedroom, which I’m guessing was a guest bedroom originally, but I have since transformed it into my personal playroom.

Nobody except for me has set foot in the room and my hands itch to pick up my toys.

I walk to the playroom and grab the key from the top of the door frame. Even though I rarely get visitors, I don’t want to run the risk of my family turning up uninvited and wandering into the private space.

After unlocking the door, I slip the key into my pocket for safekeeping.

The room is spotless, not a hint of dust anywhere and the smell of leather is a familiar comfort.

There isn’t a bed in here, as I don’t intend for anybody to be lounging or sleeping while in this space. There are a few pieces of furniture for somebody to be tied, or strapped down to.

The obedience sex bench sits to the side of the room, a bondage chair rests beside it and finally my favourite thing – an electric powered fuck machine.

It took me years to save up enough money to build up my collection. Obviously, I couldn’t have all of this stuff in my bedroom at my parent’s house. As soon as I moved out and got settled in, I went on a shopping spree.

Some stuff I bought online, like the bigger furniture, but my collection of whips, dildos and torture devices were all bought from a variety of kink shops in town.

If only I had someone to play with. Instantly, images ofhimfilter through my mind.

The thought of locking him up in every way imaginable makes me ache. He would be so pretty with tears streaming down his face as I inflict pain on his skin.

I would bind his hands behind his back and set him up on his knees in front of the fuck machine, testing out different size dildos as I stretch him open.

I would lock his cock up in an ultra-short cage, watching as he tries and fails to get hard. One day reducing his dick to a tiny little nub.

I’ve been ignoring my erection all day, but the thought of him is making me crazy.

I unzip my jeans and pull my cock out. It’s rock hard and flushed dark red, almost purple. I’ve been denying myself for two weeks now, teasing and edging myself every day, so when I finally decide to blow, it’ll be euphoric.

I’m tempted to drag this out, but the visuals in my head are making my head cloudy and my hands shaky.

I pluck a bottle of lube from the shelf above my head and squirt it directly on the tip of my cock, the coolness makes me hiss. I click the lid shut and drop it to the floor.

Placing my arm on the bondage chair and leaning my weight on it, picturing him buckled in as he thrashes away from the vibrator that sits under the hole in the chair.

He’d be so overstimulated he would be begging me to turn it off, but I wouldn’t. Not until I feel he’s had enough.

I beat my cock in hard powerful tugs, enjoying the way my heavy balls thwack against my thighs. I don’t dare close my eyes, not wanting to break the fantasy of his teary pleas.

My body tenses as I throw my head back, the cords in my neck straining as cum spurts out of my piss slit, hitting the chair in audible splats. White noise whooshing in my ears as I grunt through the bliss.

Opening my eyes which must have closed without my knowledge, I can clearly picture him sitting there, smirking at me as cum drips down his stupid face.

Not letting myself cool down from the high, I walk out of the playroom, and head straight to the bathroom. Quickly washing my hands and cleaning the lube and cold cum off my spent dick.

I look at my reflection in the mirror as I clean up and notice how dishevelled I look. My eyes look slightly crazed and my almost black hair is a mess on top of my head. I scoop some water into my palms and wash my heated face.

When I’m feeling more put together, I clear the mess I left behind in the playroom and lock the door behind me on my way out.

I check the time on my phone and see I have just enough time to run to the shops to grab something to take to my parents.

Traffic getting to the supermarket was a bitch and the shop is filled with people dilly-dallying, so I just grab the first dessert I see before paying and rushing out.

As I’m walking back to the car, I hear an obnoxious laugh from the side of me.

Fuck,I recognise that sound. I turn around and come face-to-face with the dickhead who's been haunting my thoughts.