The door almost broke off its hinges as she flew through it.
In mid air, the seconds felt like hours and she was completely aware of her body. Her back was on fire from where it rammed through the closed door and made the lock give way. Her neck felt as if he had been in a car accident. The force of her head being jarred that quickly made her wonder if this was what whiplash truly looked like. She could feel the sweat on her face make her hair stick in some places, and flail around in others. Speaking of flailing, she discovered that she had no control whatsoever on her decent. She couldn’t direct the fall; couldn’t mitigate the damage. But the thing she felt the most, more than her clothes and stockings ripping as she hit the ground, more than the skin peeling away in lines and drops of blood coming to view all over her limbs, even more than the bruises taking shape as she bounced on the concrete floor, was the point of the first… the only impact.
It was the right side, above her breast that it happened. When the hit came, it was like lightning and fire and will were focused into the head of a sledgehammer and driven through her soul in on stroke. Of course her body recoiled so totally with the hit. Her spirit had already been dominated when the punch connected. In her mind and heart, she was already kneeling. The strike was a command she obeyed instantly. The muscles were just catching up.
As she lay there, body not moving, the pulsating pain in her chest her primary focus, she slowly became aware of him coming through the door. She could hear the steady sound of him walking. He was moving with purpose, every motion weighed and calculated. Her sore body allowed her just enough just enough movement to see his boots walking up to her. She could tell he was taking his time and planning his next move. That was when the fear gripped her. This was all from his opening move. The thought of what he would follow it up with had her shuddering for the entire minute it took him to walk up to her kneel over.
He looked her over again, making sure she could see he was doing it. And then he stared at her hard and cold. She gasped then as he raised his fist and looked at it, and then back at her. He spoke then, in a deep soothing voice that she know would make her walk to the piers of Hamlin and leap off, “That… was ten percent” He smiled at her then, as his fist became an outstretched hand and he reached for her. “Care to try fifteen?”
She looked back at him, still shuddering, pain erupting all over her body, a tear rolling down her cheek, and lust welling between her legs.
“…Fifteen, Sir”
She flinched as he pulled back his fist as if to strike, and he paused.
"You ready slut?" he said, and she nodded, her eyes sparkling, smiling as she bit her lip, the look that said 'born ready'. He didn't give her the 15% straight away though. It wasn't a case of making her wait, or even making her work for it, he had his pride, not to mention his reputation to consider, he wasn't going to start hitting people when they were expecting it, where would be the fun in that?! He stood instead, and kicked her legs apart before gently nudging her cunt with the toe of one boot. She moaned and tried to push herself harder against the smooth, hard leather, he tapped her clit, rhythmically, gently at first, but harder and harder until her moans turned to bitten back sounds of pain, his boot was slick and shiny with her juices, and he started to put a bit more swing into his kicks, still looking into her eyes as she looked up at his, her expressions ranging from pain and pleasure every time his boot connected, to the look that said she was ready for more, almost a challenge, she had her pride too, and though she wanted him to break her, to leave her crying and begging for mercy, she wasn't going to make it easy for him to take her there.
He paused for a moment to watch her hips still grinding on the floor, and then stopped her, putting his foot down hard over her cunt, she felt the tread biting into her soft skin, and moaned again, she couldn't help herself. He changed up then, no longer kicking her cunt with the toe of his boot, but using the tread, grinding it into her tender soaking pussy, stomping on it and almost laughing at the way she pushed upwards, meeting the underside of his boot hard, until he stopped, she was enjoying this way too much, and that wasn't what tonight was about. His SAP gloves were heavy with ball bearings, and he dropped to his knees the better to punch her cunt, just once, hard, she pulled her legs together, and he laughed at her, suddenly there was a rope in his hand, and he pulled her legs apart, tying them quickly, hard, there was no softness here, just the roughness of rope designed to hurt. She struggled, tugging against her bonds to make sure she wouldn't be going anywhere, he'd tied one ankle to the leg of the bed, and the other to her hair, leaving her pussy completely vulnerable to another punch, and the way her neck was twisted to relieve the tug on her hair, she could barely see what he was doing. Even better. His fist landed again, and she cried out, caught off guard. He straddled her then, and, around the leg tied above her head, threw a wave punch at her so hard she felt herself sinking into the hard floor. She moaned at the pain, and breathed deeply, controlling herself, bringing herself back to center, and looking up at him again, ready for more. He untied her ankle, and used the rope to tie her hands to her hair behind her head, leaving her chest exposed to his fists, and her already rosy cheeks to his slaps. He slapped her face until both cheeks were soaked in tears, then kissed her hard, loving the surrender of her kiss as he forced his upon her. He hit her again then, and she could tell he'd been practicing the famous machine gun punch, the air was knocked out of her and she was left reeling, glad she was already on the floor. He grabbed her breasts then, taking fistfuls of the soft flesh to lift her from the ground, and then dropping her, before flipping her roughly over, and pulling something she couldn't quite see out of his pocket. She found out what it was when it connected with her ass and forced a cry out from between her lips, the small, heavy wooden paddle, she knew that hadn't been anywhere near full force, and now she was scared. It was what he'd been going for, he knew just how to do it. Tonight had been planned for some time, she'd asked for him to take her down and rape her and hurt her, she'd wanted to go further than they ever had before, she'd told him she wanted him to break her, and now she was scared, scared that he really might. He brought the paddle down hard again, and again and again, harder and harder until she was wailing, the tears streaming down her face, he didn't give her time to think, didn't give her time to compose herself, he just brought the paddle down all over her ass and thighs, terrifying her with the sheer force he used, the complete absence of mercy, she could feel the anger in his blows and that scared her, he started to talk then, telling her, in between the smacks of the paddle, exactly what he thought of her, exactly what his opinion was of her, such a little slut, whore, she needed to be taught a lesson, did she realise how much he held back every time they played? Did she realise that this was everything he'd stopped himself from doing all those times? Did she realise that he was using his left hand right now?
He paused. Untied her other leg, and dragged her by it to an A-frame in the center of the room. Suddenly there was a gag in his hand and her eyes widened, she shut her mouth tight, looking at it in fear, and he held his hand across her mouth and nose to cut off her air properly. He looked into her eyes until he felt her chest rising and falling desperately, she tried to struggle, and just when he knew her fear was ripe, he removed his hand and forced the gag between her lips, fastening it tightly and slapping her face again. Next came something that scared her more than the gag had, a hood, she struggled, she wouldn't be able to see, he wouldn't be able to see her, a thousand 'what ifs' filled her mind, what if something went wrong, what if she couldn't take it, what if, what if. Blackness then, she couldn't see a thing. She felt his rope then, her arms, still behind her head, were tied to her ankles, so that she was effectively folded in half, and then, using only these ties, he lifted her into the air, it was painful already, and she was so exposed, she felt she understood punch bags now, and sure enough, her thighs were treated to a volley of blows. He spun her round then, and flogged her back with something much harsher than his usual floggers, something with hard ends, knotted tips perhaps, she couldn't wonder much what it might be, her tears were flowing freely now that they were hidden, and she sobbed around the gag filling her mouth, She was spun around again, and suddenly there was a feeling she recognised, she froze, terrified, the thin, smooth, cool, hard thing could only be a cane, and suddenly she was struggling, shaking her head, pleading with him through the gag. He held her head still, and then, with his mouth by her ear, whispered to her.
"Make me proud pet, just 10, count them." He gave her a moment to breathe, and then started. One came hard, and she felt the fire rise along the stripe it left. He paused, and three came close on each other's heels, he dragged them out so that 10 felt like an eternity, but it came, finally, and then he pulled the hood off her head, and the gag from her mouth, and he held her, still in the air, and the words he whispered in her ear made everything better. "I'm so proud of you pet, you've done so well, I'm so proud of you, my sweet pet." He untied her then, and carried her to the bed. He spread her legs, long and slender, and still pale where they weren't red, and he slid his cock inside her soaking slit, and she moaned, and wrapped her arms and legs around him and pulled him deeper into her, and he made love to her, knowing that she liked her sex fast and rough, he took her so gently it drove her crazy with need, he fucked her until she was begging to cum, he could feel how close, how desperate she was, and he denied her, "not yet." She moaned in pain and he could see the effort etched across her face.
He slid into her tight ass next, easing himself in slowly, before starting to fuck her so hard she thought she couldn't stop herself.
"Please, please Sir let your slut cum" He smiled.
"Ten" he said, and she knew what was coming, he counted her down slowly, teasing the hell out of her, watching her struggle, "one," he paused, on the edge himself, "Cum!" She came hard, and he came with her, filling her ass as she milked him dry, she writhed under him, her legs wrapped around his body, pulling him deep into her the noises she made were primal, no words existed any more.
Finally they collapsed on the bed, her legs still wrapped around him, and, after a second to catch her breath and remember what words were, thanks poured out of her lips, "Thank you Sir, thank you for letting your slut cum, thank you Sir..." her eyes closed in ecstasy, aftershocks rippled through them until exhaustion overtook them, and, shifting, he lay on his back, she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat returning to normal, his arm wrapped protectively around her, and she rested hers across his chest.
He paused for a moment to watch her hips still grinding on the floor, and then stopped her, putting his foot down hard over her cunt, she felt the tread biting into her soft skin, and moaned again, she couldn't help herself. He changed up then, no longer kicking her cunt with the toe of his boot, but using the tread, grinding it into her tender soaking pussy, stomping on it and almost laughing at the way she pushed upwards, meeting the underside of his boot hard, until he stopped, she was enjoying this way too much, and that wasn't what tonight was about. His SAP gloves were heavy with ball bearings, and he dropped to his knees the better to punch her cunt, just once, hard, she pulled her legs together, and he laughed at her, suddenly there was a rope in his hand, and he pulled her legs apart, tying them quickly, hard, there was no softness here, just the roughness of rope designed to hurt. She struggled, tugging against her bonds to make sure she wouldn't be going anywhere, he'd tied one ankle to the leg of the bed, and the other to her hair, leaving her pussy completely vulnerable to another punch, and the way her neck was twisted to relieve the tug on her hair, she could barely see what he was doing. Even better. His fist landed again, and she cried out, caught off guard. He straddled her then, and, around the leg tied above her head, threw a wave punch at her so hard she felt herself sinking into the hard floor. She moaned at the pain, and breathed deeply, controlling herself, bringing herself back to center, and looking up at him again, ready for more. He untied her ankle, and used the rope to tie her hands to her hair behind her head, leaving her chest exposed to his fists, and her already rosy cheeks to his slaps. He slapped her face until both cheeks were soaked in tears, then kissed her hard, loving the surrender of her kiss as he forced his upon her. He hit her again then, and she could tell he'd been practicing the famous machine gun punch, the air was knocked out of her and she was left reeling, glad she was already on the floor. He grabbed her breasts then, taking fistfuls of the soft flesh to lift her from the ground, and then dropping her, before flipping her roughly over, and pulling something she couldn't quite see out of his pocket. She found out what it was when it connected with her ass and forced a cry out from between her lips, the small, heavy wooden paddle, she knew that hadn't been anywhere near full force, and now she was scared. It was what he'd been going for, he knew just how to do it. Tonight had been planned for some time, she'd asked for him to take her down and rape her and hurt her, she'd wanted to go further than they ever had before, she'd told him she wanted him to break her, and now she was scared, scared that he really might. He brought the paddle down hard again, and again and again, harder and harder until she was wailing, the tears streaming down her face, he didn't give her time to think, didn't give her time to compose herself, he just brought the paddle down all over her ass and thighs, terrifying her with the sheer force he used, the complete absence of mercy, she could feel the anger in his blows and that scared her, he started to talk then, telling her, in between the smacks of the paddle, exactly what he thought of her, exactly what his opinion was of her, such a little slut, whore, she needed to be taught a lesson, did she realise how much he held back every time they played? Did she realise that this was everything he'd stopped himself from doing all those times? Did she realise that he was using his left hand right now?
He paused. Untied her other leg, and dragged her by it to an A-frame in the center of the room. Suddenly there was a gag in his hand and her eyes widened, she shut her mouth tight, looking at it in fear, and he held his hand across her mouth and nose to cut off her air properly. He looked into her eyes until he felt her chest rising and falling desperately, she tried to struggle, and just when he knew her fear was ripe, he removed his hand and forced the gag between her lips, fastening it tightly and slapping her face again. Next came something that scared her more than the gag had, a hood, she struggled, she wouldn't be able to see, he wouldn't be able to see her, a thousand 'what ifs' filled her mind, what if something went wrong, what if she couldn't take it, what if, what if. Blackness then, she couldn't see a thing. She felt his rope then, her arms, still behind her head, were tied to her ankles, so that she was effectively folded in half, and then, using only these ties, he lifted her into the air, it was painful already, and she was so exposed, she felt she understood punch bags now, and sure enough, her thighs were treated to a volley of blows. He spun her round then, and flogged her back with something much harsher than his usual floggers, something with hard ends, knotted tips perhaps, she couldn't wonder much what it might be, her tears were flowing freely now that they were hidden, and she sobbed around the gag filling her mouth, She was spun around again, and suddenly there was a feeling she recognised, she froze, terrified, the thin, smooth, cool, hard thing could only be a cane, and suddenly she was struggling, shaking her head, pleading with him through the gag. He held her head still, and then, with his mouth by her ear, whispered to her.
"Make me proud pet, just 10, count them." He gave her a moment to breathe, and then started. One came hard, and she felt the fire rise along the stripe it left. He paused, and three came close on each other's heels, he dragged them out so that 10 felt like an eternity, but it came, finally, and then he pulled the hood off her head, and the gag from her mouth, and he held her, still in the air, and the words he whispered in her ear made everything better. "I'm so proud of you pet, you've done so well, I'm so proud of you, my sweet pet." He untied her then, and carried her to the bed. He spread her legs, long and slender, and still pale where they weren't red, and he slid his cock inside her soaking slit, and she moaned, and wrapped her arms and legs around him and pulled him deeper into her, and he made love to her, knowing that she liked her sex fast and rough, he took her so gently it drove her crazy with need, he fucked her until she was begging to cum, he could feel how close, how desperate she was, and he denied her, "not yet." She moaned in pain and he could see the effort etched across her face.
He slid into her tight ass next, easing himself in slowly, before starting to fuck her so hard she thought she couldn't stop herself.
"Please, please Sir let your slut cum" He smiled.
"Ten" he said, and she knew what was coming, he counted her down slowly, teasing the hell out of her, watching her struggle, "one," he paused, on the edge himself, "Cum!" She came hard, and he came with her, filling her ass as she milked him dry, she writhed under him, her legs wrapped around his body, pulling him deep into her the noises she made were primal, no words existed any more.
Finally they collapsed on the bed, her legs still wrapped around him, and, after a second to catch her breath and remember what words were, thanks poured out of her lips, "Thank you Sir, thank you for letting your slut cum, thank you Sir..." her eyes closed in ecstasy, aftershocks rippled through them until exhaustion overtook them, and, shifting, he lay on his back, she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat returning to normal, his arm wrapped protectively around her, and she rested hers across his chest.
No comments:
Post a Comment