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Imaginary Adventures in Pain

Fantasies of a frustrated painslut with an overactive imagination and a fondness for commas.

commitment
Posted:Jul 19, 2015 10:26 pm
Last Updated:Aug 15, 2015 11:54 pm
8311 Views

He wants me to be exclusive. I'm struggling with this idea. It implies that he will be able to meet all of my needs- and I don't know that I want to place that much importance in someone else. I don't want to need him. I already feel more entangled than I intended to get- and I'm enjoying it, but I don't trust myself in these waters, even if I knew what I wanted from tomorrow.

I won't lie- it felt unbelievably good when he said he wanted me to himself. It feels so fucking good to be wanted, to be enjoyed for being exactly what you are. It feels too good to be true. And so I keep waiting for it to play out that way. I'm flattered and amazed, but also dubious and bewildered.

I'm also remembering the lows that chase the highs. There's a reason I spent years *not* feeling things. As high as I flew under his attention, I am being reminded that I can fall just as far. To need someone and not want to need them is its own kind of torture. It's an obsessive loop that will eat me alive if I let it. I don't like feeling this way; this part is not fun.

I wasn't prepared for all of this and I don't know what to do with it. I just wanted someone to beat me. I didn't for a minute believe that there would be anything more to it, and while I have no idea what this is or where it's going, it is definitely *more*.

I agreed to be exclusive, for now. Next week... who knows? But of course I'll let him know if I change my mind. So... I guess what I really agreed to is that I wouldn't play with anyone else without telling him first, and that I understood that decision might have consequences for us. That's the best I could do, and it's both more and less than I wanted it to be, so it must be the right answer. Right?

Here's hoping the fun part rolls back around real soon.
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whirlpool
Posted:Jul 15, 2015 4:28 pm
Last Updated:Jul 19, 2015 6:29 am
8261 Views

I may have finally met my match. Being in my body today is... luxurious. I have a steady stripe of deep purple marks from the crease of my ass up to my rib cage, and on both breasts. I can't stop stroking them to feel the warm, welted bruises, and stretching my body to feel every twinge and ache. I won't go into detail about the other, more intimate swellings and aches, but they are delicious. I haven't felt this alive in so long and I can't wait to do it again. The deep *need* is sated for the moment, but it was so much fun, I can't keep from smiling to myself. My body needs to recover and we'll give it that time- but I know it's just a matter of a little more time before I'm at his mercy again. And I couldn't be happier about it.

He doesn't ever ask for more than I am willing to offer. He respects my limits, and pushes me in every other way. He wants the same things I do, only from his perspective. He doesn't just accept my body, even the parts my instincts tell me to hide from him, he actually revels in it. I can't be embarrassed about my reactions to him because he enjoys it all so much and makes me believe that. He seems to know instinctively what I need and is delighted to give it. He is as intrigued by the possibilities of our play as I am. And he's so much fun- I never expected that someone who would enjoy hurting me as much as I want to be hurt would be so much fun to be with. We laugh all the time, when he's not making me scream.

I am perfectly at home in my own body with him. He will accept nothing less- not because he demands it, but because he honors me while he uses it. I would only be getting in our way by being self-conscious, and the last thing I want to do is get in our way. I am so ready for this. And so lucky to have someone experienced, sane, intelligent, like-minded, and *fun* to help me explore this side of myself.

I'm sure my words are inadequate. But I am learning so much and I'm so deeply grateful for this rekindled joy, this awareness of my body in the space of the world, this freedom to be who I am and embrace it- I couldn't help trying to capture it somehow. I don't know how long we'll be playmates, but I'm going to enjoy every rich, juicy moment for as long as I can. And when it's time to part ways, I'll have very high standards for the next playmate.

His song for me? The one he listened to on repeat before our last, most intense session? 'Do I Wanna Know' by the Arctic Monkeys. Look it up if you haven't heard it- because it's the perfect song for our strange, amazing little adventure.
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Unhealthy Obsession
Posted:Jul 7, 2015 4:14 pm
Last Updated:Jul 16, 2015 7:42 am
8674 Views

Ever since my most recent real life encounter, I've been really struggling to maintain some kind of equilibrium. I'm having a difficult time thinking about anything else. Not necessarily the encounter itself, just the idea that I could actually bring some of my fantasies into the real world. That I might be able to find a regular play partner who would understand what I need, and just as importantly, would get as much satisfaction from our encounters as I would. Someone who would use intelligence, calculation, and imagination to help me find my true limits and then push them.

This is not just a matter of finding a Dom or an Owner. I am not a sub or a slave. I don't want a romantic relationship or a friendship. I don't care what he does for a living or who else he might play with. I don't even want him to know my name. I don't care if I like him or if I'm attracted to him and I don't care what else he might think about me, as long as he also thinks I'm a satisfying play partner who inspires his creativity.

I feel like I started a fire and I don't know how to put it out. My skin literally crawls with the need to be struck, my cunt is always wet, and I can't focus on any of my normal routines. I've been devising new and interesting (but so fucking inadequate) ways to inflict pain while I masturbate, which I pretty much always want to do. I'm wearing bras full of tacks to work. I'm living in a fog of NEED.

In the past, after a few days without satisfaction the overwhelming need would fade, disappearing into my psyche not to be even thought of for months and months on end. I'd go back to my regularly scheduled life and forget, for a time, that this is who I am. This time, it all seems to be getting more intense. I'm a little bit afraid.

I've never been interested in marriage and I have no desire to date. Relationships are hard work and I am a very self-sufficient introvert. I have never been clingy or emotionally needy or prone to drama. I'm down to earth, even-keeled, and perfectly content on my own and in my head. I've always been a little mystified at the idea of needing someone. Right now, I'm really afraid that if I found this person, I'd become dependent on his willingness to use me. I'd become as consumed by that anonymous relationship as I've seen friends become consumed by new lovers they want to know everything about. I'd check the phone every 5 minutes in case he had texted. I';d want to cry with frustrated disappointment if he had to cancel a session. Those things are not me at all, and the idea that this is the kind of relationship that could inspire that kind of insanity is hard to accept. The idea that I could ever feel this way about another person is extremely hard to accept. I can't stand the idea of needing anyone, letting that need influence my mood and my daily behavior.

Being a masochist, this fear completely turns me on. It's a limit I have that is suddenly in stark relief, and that is incredibly hot. The masochistic in me very much wants to walk that tightrope and see where it takes me. But being a sane human being with a very full life who likes herself just fine the way she is, this fear is also extremely valid.

It's very complicated being me right now. One minute I want to shut down this account and my discrete email account and throw away all of my toys, and the next, all I can think about is whether or not it would be possible to attach a We-Vibe to a padlocked clit ring so my imaginary abuser could use my cunt whenever he wanted, even if we didn't have a session for months on end. Can you modify one of those things to give a shock instead of a vibration? Why hasn't anyone made that toy?

I can't tell right now which way this is going to go, but something's got to give. I can';t afford to be obsessed with this idea. I need to follow this where it leads me or I need to let go of this idea of real life play, at least for now.

Who am I and what did I do with myself?
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Inspired by Recent Events and Conversations
Posted:Jul 6, 2015 5:38 pm
Last Updated:Jul 16, 2015 7:42 am
9812 Views

She stood at the door of the motel room, trying to calm her frantically beating heart. It was suddenly hard to catch her breath. Was she really going to do this? Yes, she knew she was, and the consequences be damned. She raised her hand and knocked. The door swung open, showing her the shadowy interior of the cheap room. She stepped inside and the door closed behind her with a solid sound, closing out the rest of the world. She started to look around to see where he was, but before she could see anything, her hair was grabbed and she was forced to her knees on the rough carpet. She cried out more in surprise than pain as she landed.

He said, "You can take off your clothes yourself or I will cut them off of you." He did not let go of her hair, twisting it to be sure she stayed in place.

She reached down and pulled up her shirt, hooking her bra with her thumbs and dragging it over her face at the same time. He reached under the material to grab her hair with his other hand and discarded her shirt and bra somewhere behind her. She was horribly aware of being naked in front of him, of having nothing to hide behind. She reached down again and pulled her pants down, struggling to achieve enough movement to get them off of her legs even while held in place. He did not help, but watched her flailing ungracefully while she navigated the difficult position.

"You are even fatter and uglier than you led me to believe, cunt. What a fucking disappointment. I'll try to make the most of it, but you're going to pay for this."

He finally let go of her hair, but only so he could kick her lower back, throwing her face first on the carpet. Before she could react, he had grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms back sharply. She heard the click of cuffs and knew that from this point forward, she could not stop him even if she wanted to. He hauled her up to her knees again by her hair, making her cry out with the pain of it. He walked around to face her, and she saw him for the first time. He was a complete stranger and his large cock was hanging semi-flaccid in her face. She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from it to see his face, or notice any other feature about him. He solved that problem by forcing her head back until she couldn't help but see his face, his hard, angry eyes boring into her. He released her hair and she started to breathe a sigh of relief, but it came out as a harsh stunted cry instead as his open palm struck her face and rocked her whole body to one side. She had no balance with her hands locked so tightly behind her back. She struggled to stay upright, and when she finally managed to catch her balance, his hand struck out and backhanded her other cheek, just as hard. Her head whipped to the side again, and this time she fell, landing sideways on her shoulder against the end of the bed. Tears filled her eyes and she was afraid- she had never cried this early in an encounter before. She fought them back.

He reached down and suddenly her mouth was forced open and a rubber ball gag was pushed into her mouth and buckled behind her head. Any chance she might have had to scream for help was now gone, and she'd missed it. He grabbed both of her huge tits by the nipples and pulled, hard. "Get the fuck up on that bed, cunt. Fucking sow." She was driven to her feet by the intense pain and she cried out but it was muffled and weak. He shoved her face down on the bed. "I will tell you once- don't move. Either you can take it because you know you deserve it, or you will try to fight it and you'll deserve much, much worse. It's up to you."

The belt came down with a snap over her lower back like a brand. She jerked and then lay there trembling with the effort to stay still, to not struggle against the sting. He brought the belt down again, this time on her ass, and her skin was on fire. She'd been belt whipped before, but they had always seemed hesitant to put any force behind it. This was nothing like those other times. She didn't know how much of it she could handle before she tried to escape the next blow. It would be useless to try to get away from it, but she didn't know if she'd be able to help herself. He continued the methodical whipping, down the backs of her thighs, up her back, even the backs of her arms where they were exposed because of the way her wrists were bound behind her. Between blows, he taunted her. "You love this, don't you, you nasty piece of meat. You know how lucky you are that anyone will give you this, you're so fucking useless. I could never even you out because I'd have to pay them to fuck you."

Finally her resolve broke when the belt came down one last time with a vicious crack on tender, burning flesh. She scrambled with her legs, trying to get her knees up under her, moaning desperately against the gag. Behind her, she heard him laugh. "I knew you deserved worse," he said.

She lay there gasping for breath behind the gag, relieved that the whipping had stopped but terrified of what came next. She felt and then heard the handcuffs being released off of her left hand, and she was suddenly even more terrified that he was already done with her, so disappointed in her that he could not be bothered to use her further. Her shoulders ached at the release from the restraints. He grabbed her and flipped her over, so that she was laying on her back, and then he pulled her to the edge of the bed so that her right arm hung over the edge. He locked the open cuff around the metal foot of the bed, but one hand was still free. She could not imagine what his intentions were. Her huge tits had spilled out when he flipped her, and he grabbed one, squeezing and twisting until she tried to bring herself into a defensive fetal position, using her free arm to try to cover her breasts. "Oh, no you don't, you stupid cow. You take what I give you." He slapped her again and her ears rang. "Grab the bed with that hand. Do not let go. Get those legs down. Spread them. Farther apart. Don't move." He reached for her other tit and now he had them both, wringing them like wet laundry, making her scream into her gag as her eyes fill with tears again. When she was finally in control of herself but shuddering with the effort to stay still while he mauled her, he released her tits. It was a brief reprieve.

He pulled out a set of clamps, and with practiced ease he affixed one to each of her nipples. They were joined by a chain, so her tits were pulled towards each other, their heavy weight trying to pull them to each side but the clamps resisting gravity. She gave a sharp moan as each one was attached, but it didn't seem too bad once it was applied. Then he went to the end of the bed and bent between her legs. He shoved them further apart, and then she felt his fingers prodding her. The first clamp on her cunt lip came as a shock and she tried to pull her legs together again, her "free" hand grabbing so tightly at the bedspread that it ached. He casually stood up and punched her in the belly. "You will learn not to move if it kills you, you stupid bitch." He bent down again and applied the other clamp. She managed to remain still that time.

What she couldn't see was that there was a chain linking those two clamps as well. To that chain and the chain between her nipple clamps, he attached leashes. He placed the single chair in the room at the end of the bed, and took up the leashes. And pulled.

Her body seemed to rise up off of the bed with the intensity of the pain. She threw her head back and screamed into the gag, knowing that nobody could hear her and nobody would care if they could.

He relaxed his grip and the waves of pain began to subside. She was sweating, moaning, shuddering as she tried to relax into the pain, tried to prepare for the next wave. But he was just setting the scene.

"You are going to show me just how fucked up you really are. You're now allowed to move your free hand, but if you make one move towards those clamps, I'll rip them right out of your piggy flesh. The only other thing you need to know is that if you want it to stop, all you have to do is cum." And he pulled the leashes again. She saw stars. She frantically found enough of her will left to reach down with her free hand and begin to rub her clit. She could barely feel it through the shockwaves he was inflicting. He relaxed his hold for a moment and then pulled again. He began to pull one and then the other, alternating the pain from tits to cunt, cunt to tits, in jagged flashes that consumed her brain. She renewed her attempts to stimulate her clit, closing her eyes tightly and bucking slightly against her fingers, trying to focus on the desperate, horrible need to cum.

"That's right, you ugly bitch... show me how grateful you are... you know you should never cum unless it hurts... you know this is what you are. This is the only thing you'll ever be good for. Show me that you know what you are, you gutter hole." He kept taunting her, egging her on, pulling and pulling and relaxing and pulling and watching with hard, glittering eyes and she fingered herself viciously, tears leaking out from her tightly closed eyes, reaching desperately, frantically for the elusive orgasm that would free her.

Slowly, tortuously, she was able to push the fact that he was watching and taunting her to a corner of her mind and find a rhythm. Her mind repeated the same thing over and over again to that rhythm: "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you..." She didn't even know who she was thanking or what for. It couldn't be for this hell- but she didn't let herself think about that, she couldn't afford to be distracted, she must cum she must cum she must cum and she finally came, with a terrible cry low in her throat, her body sweating and shaking, every nerve tingling, and then the pain of the clamps reasserted itself worse than ever and it was all far too much and she reached for the leash she could see where it stretched out over her piggy belly towards him in the dark and she pulled it towards her, desperate to be released.

As soon as she began pulling, he let go and the leash went slack in her hand. He was beside the bed in an instant, one large hand pinning her to the bed by the throat, the other reaching to remove the clamps from her nipples and then her cunt. The blood flowing back into those tender bits of flesh was an exquisite wave of agony. He dangled them in front of her face, and that's when she saw that the clamps that had been applied to her cunt flesh were serrated, like little alligator clips. She felt her cunt pulsing and sopping from the tortuous orgasm, and she wondered if any of that wetness was blood.

"Cumming with pleasure is for other people- not for pig-in-heat trash. And don't think for a minute that you'll ever cum with my cock inside you- I'll never pleasure a used-up cumrag like you."

He bent down to unlock her wrist from the metal frame of the bed, flipped her back over where her weight on the rough bed cover was enough to make her nipples scream, and he pulled her hands together to lock them again. Her shoulders ached in protest but she was restrained again before she could form a coherent thought. A moment later, she felt a cuff latch around one ankle... and then the other. He dragged her by her ankles to the end of the bed and slapped her ass with a stinging crack, saying, "Get up on your knees, bitch. I want that ass in the air." She scrambled to obey before he could hit her again, and in a moment she was face down on the bed, her ass in the air, and her hands cuffed behind her back. She caught a glimpse of something silver glinting, and then his hand was pushing the bed down beneath her throat, threading something between her and the bed cover. "You belong in a kennel, but a training collar will do for now," he said, and latched the collar around her throat. She could feel its complex pattern resting against her skin, but it didn't feel particularly tight. Then he retrieved the two leashes he'd used to pull her nerve endings to shreds, and she felt him attaching both to the collar at the back of her neck. Again, she was mystified about his intentions.

A heartbeat later she felt a tug on her ankle, and she instinctively tried to reposition herself with more stability. Her ankle caught up short and the collar around her neck blossomed into prongs that dug painfully into her neck. She immediately stopped any movement, whimpering and drooling around the gag, and then pulled her ankle up tighter to her body so that the prongs relaxed back into their benign, flattened shape. She heard him chuckling to himself as he watched her realize how utterly helpless she was. A low keening sound reached her ears and she realized it was her. A tug at her other ankle and she was restrained more effectively than if she'd been hog tied.

He stood behind her, observing her holes spread open to him, and then punched her cunt. She rocked forward, her face shoved into the bed and her knees slipping from their careful position and bringing the collar into life again around her throat. She was almost mindless with the agony between her battered cunt and her pinched throat, but had just enough presence of mind not to struggle, to compose herself and tuck her knees and ankles back where they belonged. She breathed roughly through the gag, and realized she was crying again. Snot dripped down face along with the tears and there was nothing she could do about it. It occurred to her that if she kept crying, she might soon have trouble breathing, and that brought her enough desperate control to calm her ragged breathing and slow the tears. She braced herself as securely as she could, every muscle tense, and it was just in time because WHAM and his fist exploded against her cunt again, this time harder than before. She shrieked with every fiber of her being, but she held her position.

"Now this I might be able to sell tickets to," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Step right up to the Punch-A-Cunt, $5 a fist!" But he was done with this game, and she felt his fingers slide into her aching, burning, dripping cunt, pushing past the swollen flesh and into the hot hole. "Perfect," he said, and then he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding the hard length in as far as it would go with one smooth thrust. She had never wanted anything more. She gasped at the sensation of him filling her, pressing up against her battered flesh, making her feel whole. She arched into him, trying to take him even deeper, but he slapped her ass and pulled away, sliding out of her and leaving her utterly bereft. She would have promised him anything if only he would come back, give her that cock the way she knew she could take it, if only...

"Cumrag," he said quietly, and then his cock was poised at her asshole and the pressure was terrifying and her cunt juices greased his way as he forced himself, more gradually than he wanted to, she could tell from his muttered curses, deep into her bowels. She was being split open. She could not even catch her breath to scream. He grunted, buried balls deep in her ass, trying to get even deeper, feeling her hot, tight, violated ass spasming around his cock. Finally he withdrew, dug his fingers into her cunt for more of her sloppy juices, and smeared it over her burning hole. He didn't hesitate this time, thrusting in with as much force as he could bring to bear, and began to fuck her ass, pumping brutally. She lay in a stupor of helplessness and pain, unable to cry out, unable to move so much as an inch in any direction to get away from his assault. Every once in a while he would withdraw long enough to wet her ass with more cunt juice, and then he would resume pounding her without mercy. When he noticed that she was not crying out, not reacting to his grunting thrusts, he grabbed the leashes with one hand and tugged, bringing the prongs to life around her throat. She panicked and began to struggle and as she tensed and arched and twisted beneath him, he gave one last powerful thrust and his cum exploded in her ass as he found his release at last. A moment later the prongs relaxed around her throat as he withdrew. He casually unlocked the cuffs around her ankles and her wrists, and her body collapsed bonelessly to the bed. He unbuckled the gag and unclasped the collar. Then he grabbed her hair, dragging her up off the bed, and threw her to the floor near her clothes.

"Get dressed and get the fuck out."
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minibreak
Posted:Jan 4, 2014 7:56 pm
Last Updated:Jul 7, 2015 4:20 pm
21530 Views

I arrived 10 minutes early and sat in my car numb with a combination of terror and excitement. My stomach was hollow and seemed to be twisting in on itself, and a low throbbing heat that had been building for the entire two hour drive made my thighs weak and my cunt ache. My heart was racing and my breath came in short, almost panicked gasps. For a moment I thought about turning the car around and going home again, none the worse for my brief flirtation with danger, but I knew that I'd never needed anything more than I needed what waited for me inside. It was time.

I walked up the broad porch steps, opened the large double doors and stepped inside. I stood for a moment, wondering who I would be when I saw the world again, and then closed the door behind me. I was in a large vestibule. Directly ahead of me was another door that I knew must lead into the house. Between me and the door, though, was a small table with several items on it. I recognized a ball gag, a pair of handcuffs, a folded cloth of some kind, and a note. Picking up the note, I read:

"This is your last chance to change your mind. Completing the instructions below will indicate your consent to the following terms. You will be giving yourself over without reservation or safe words to our will for the duration of your use. You have been allowed to set two limits and have chosen to be spared breath play and any use of scat. We will respect these limits and also guarantee that no physical damage taking longer than 2 weeks to heal completely will be caused. Note that nothing else is guaranteed.

If you consent to this contract, you will remove your clothing and place it (neatly folded) on the table. You will then put on the ball gag and place the hood over your head. Draw it snug around your throat, and then cuff your own hands behind your back. Once the cuffs are on, there is no turning back. Choose carefully."

The note was trembling in my hand and I reached out to steady myself on the table. I could not have been more horrified and scared about what I was doing, but I could not have stopped at this point for the wide world. I put the note down and with fumbling fingers, I undressed. I hated the way I looked- I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to see me naked, but it was up to them to decide if I was someone they could use. I was mortified at the very idea of being naked in front of anyone and knew that this was part of the torture I deserved. If they didn't think they could use me, the adventure would end here. They would open that door to the inner sanctum just long enough to announce that the specimen is unacceptable and to throw a small set of handcuff keys in my general direction, before closing it again and locking me out. I would be left to somehow locate the keys and unlock myself, remove the hood and the gag and replace my clothes before letting myself back out to the street. I had been told that one poor cunt had spent almost 2 hours trying to find those keys and figure out how to use them to get free. They had recorded her pathetic muffled fumblings with their own cruel, coldly amused commentary and the video had been waiting in the cunt's email by the time she got home. I wondered what had become of the cunt after that kind of crushing humiliation and knew that it would break me. No matter what happened next, I would be forever altered by it. I gagged myself, placed the hood over my face, and paused with the handcuffs already locked around one wrist but not quite latched around the other. My body trembled and I was covered in goosebumps. I wondered how long it would take me to break, and how much longer after that the hell would go on. I clicked the cuff closed and stood, waiting.

to be continued
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In Which I Finally Satisfy My Boyfriend
Posted:Feb 11, 2012 3:44 pm
Last Updated:Jul 7, 2015 4:21 pm
37309 Views

I pulled into the motel parking lot sometime after midnight, exhausted from my long drive but still too amped up on anger to think I might actually get some much-needed sleep. The shock of catching my boyfriend fucking what appeared to be a cheap in our bed had worn off in about 2 seconds flat, propelling me to throw some essentials into a bag and start driving- at first without a destination in mind, and then with more purpose to my sister’s house in a neighboring state. It was easily a two-day drive, and I had called from the road to book a motel room in this little dive right off the freeway. I picked up the key in the front office and found my room- an end unit at the back of the complex. I vaguely noticed that there didn’t seem to be many other cars in the lot, which didn’t surprise me since it was kind of a dump. I let myself into the room, took a quick shower, and popped a sedative in hopes that it would allow me the oblivion of a few hours’ sleep. The sheets were rough and the bed was way too firm for comfort, but I was unconscious in minutes.

I awoke in a haze of confusion and blinding pain, disoriented and deeply terrified of something I had no name for- yet. My lower back seemed to be on fire and I instinctively began to reach behind me to lay my hand on the smooth skin there, but my hand was instantly caught up short. I couldn’t move my hand and it didn’t immediately register until I tried to use my other arm. That hand wouldn’t move either and the terrible truth finally began to dawn on me. I struggled, finding that I was somehow completely restrained, legs and hands tied to the four corners of the bed in a spread eagle position, face down on the hard mattress. As I twisted and stretched more and more violently, trying to deny the reality of my bindings, I began to moan in mounting terror. It was only then that I realized I had also been muzzled. I thrust my face into the pillow, trying frantically to remove the tape, but it was firmly in place and my efforts were pathetically ineffective.

CRACK! I had never known such blinding pain, and my body arched as far as it could in the tight restraints, my head thrown back as I screamed into the tape my shock and terror. I was suddenly fully conscious, and the fact that my sedative-addled brain had somehow failed to register earlier was now the only thing I could think of. I am not alone… I am not alone… I am not alone and now I am going to die. I did not realize that before the night was over, I would fervently wish I were dead, but that death’s release from my torture would not be granted.

CRACK! The pain was just as sudden and just as intense, this time across my upper thighs, the sensitive skin there screaming in untold agony along with me. The blows came closer together now, steadily increasing in tempo as I writhed, desperate to escape even though logically, I knew that no amount of struggling would release me from the beating I was getting. My throat was raw with my screams and my back and ass and thighs were an unbroken field of pain before a silence ensued. I lay quivering, exhausted from my struggles and yet still tensed for the next blow I was sure was coming.

The bed shifted under me just slightly, and I felt the unknown person climb onto the mattress with me. I tried to turn my head to see who this was, this person who had so forcefully made himself the center of my universe, but a hand came down on the back of my head and pressed my face into the pillow before I could see. My breathing was suddenly labored and I began to panic, thinking I was going to be smothered. But the pressure remained constant, just hard enough to keep my head in this position but not hard enough to stop my breathing completely. He spoke in my ear, and through the haze of my pain and terror, I still couldn’t help but register the excitement and strange, evil joy in his voice. With a sick sense of wonder, I recognized the voice, and the smell of the man who held me at his mercy. It was my boyfriend, the -fucking of a bitch. Somehow he had found me, somehow he had become this monster who had me completely at his mercy.

“Did you like that, you little cunt?” he whispered in my ear, one hand still on the back of my head and the other inflicting sharp flicks to the raw, too-tender skin of my back. I involuntarily jerked with each one.

“That was my belt, the thick brown leather one you bought me for Christmas. I never did like that thing, but I must say it sure came in handy tonight, didn’t it? I don’t think I’m quite done with it yet either- before I’m done with you, you’ll beg me to tighten that belt around your neck.” He was beginning to pant, his breath coming faster and heavier. I wanted to ask him why he was doing this, I wanted to try to reason with him, find the person I had fallen in love with somewhere inside this monster, but of course I couldn't.

“You have been begging for this for a long time, you dirty little cumslut. You’ve needed a good beating, needed to understand who is in charge here. You were lucky I bothered with you, you worthless piece of ass. You’re an ugly, nasty cunt, and you never could satisfy me in bed, but that’s changing tonight. I’m gonna make you take a dick the way a good little bitch should. A woman’s place is on her hands and knees with her ass in the air, and you know how I know that? Because a man was built to put her there. If that’s not natural design, I don’t know what is. It’s time you finally understood why you were born- to take a man’s cock any way he wants to give it to you.”

His words barely skittered across my brain, which refused to fully contemplate what he was saying. He released my head and shifted away from me on the bed, reaching for something. His arm slid under my hips, and he raised me off of the bed as far as my restraints would allow. Something that felt bizarrely like a speed bump replaced his arm holding me up, and in response, the restraints stretched my arms and legs painfully towards the four corners of the bed. My hip bones ground painfully against the cold, hard material and I moaned with this new discomfort. I could feel how exposed my ass and pussy suddenly were in this new position. He chuckled to himself in satisfaction and moved behind me, to the end of the bed. The mattress shifted again and I suddenly felt his huge hands, one clenched on each elevated, burning ass check, spreading them apart as he spoke again.

“That you found me with? I think now would be a good time to tell you that I didn’t use a condom. Not with her, not with any of them.”

The horror of that statement had only just begun to sink in when I felt the head of his dick on the tight, puckered opening of my ass. If I could have struggled, I would have- the strain of this position made it so that I could barely lift my head as I tried to arch away from the terrifying contact. I was mindlessly begging him for mercy, but all that came out from behind the tape was muffled little whines and shrieks. He gave a tentative shove and then another, the head of his dick popping into my ass with an unbelievable pressure. He pulled out completely and I heard him spit, and then his cock was back, slightly wet against the sensitive opening. He braced himself with his hands on my welted back, forcing my position even further. This time there was no tentative attempt- with no more than two mighty thrusts, he buried his cock in my ass. My world exploded in a violent burst of pain that made the whipping I had received earlier seem a million years ago. As tightly restrained as I was, I was completely at his mercy as he my ass, skewering me with a cock that had been buried this way in countless dirty whores before me. The assault seemed endless, each thrust pounding me against the brace under my hips, turning the universe into one sparkling, infinite, vicious moment of pain. I barely heard his deep grunts each time he pushed himself into me. I didn’t even notice when he finally came inside me.

I gradually came out of the haze of the assault to find that he was no longer on the bed with me, and liquid was seeping out of my now gaping asshole. I knew I should care where he was and what was coming next, but I no longer had it in me. I was finally beginning to understand that it didn’t matter what I knew or expected or braced myself for, my reality was completely out of my control and beyond my ability to prepare for. A step creaked nearby and I felt a hand slide through the slime between my ass cheeks, traveling just a little lower to slip into my pussy. I felt his blunt finger probing, pushing the walls of my pussy, as if testing how sound they might be. He pulled out and gathered more of the seeping wetness with the tips of his finger, and leaned forward to wipe the mess across my face.

“That’s my cum and your blood, bitch. There’s no better lubricant than that. I sure tore you a new asshole, didn’t I? And I’m not done with you yet. I want you bleeding out of both holes before I’ll be satisfied.” He got up and went to the door, opening it to the night. In the light of the motel walkway, I saw that he had gotten fully dressed while I wandered in my pain-soaked daze. He turned to me, grinning, and lifted his hand to his mouth. I could see the reddish smears of my blood on his fingers, almost black in this light. He put them in his mouth and licked, taking his time- as if enjoying a Popsicle. He turned and walked out, closing but not bothering to lock the door behind him.

After all, I was just another one of his dirty whores now... I would still be here, in the same inviting position, when he was ready for more.
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An Introduction
Posted:Feb 11, 2012 10:05 am
Last Updated:May 23, 2017 3:03 pm
35573 Views

The bar isn’t too crowded yet… the after work crowd has thinned a bit and the night owls have yet to arrive. It’s my favorite time of day to stop in and nurse a couple drinks, lost in my thoughts. I’m less likely to be bothered and more likely to actually be able to relax.

Tonight is different, however. Out of the corner of my eye I see the man slide onto the stool next to me. I can’t help groaning to myself- there are several empty seats and he chooses this one- I know the pickup line will not be long in coming. I purposely do not look at him, in hopes that my ignoring him will give him the hint.

It seems to be working. I am well into my second drink and he hasn’t said a word. Now I’m not feeling so intruded upon and I risk a glance at him while he is in engaged in talking to the bartender. I’m surprised to find myself thinking that there’s something appealing about him. He’s about 6 feet tall, well built without being bulky, and completely bald. He’s wearing a nice enough suit, but something about the way he wears it makes me think he’d be more comfortable in something more utilitarian- jeans, or maybe even combat fatigues. He has an air of quiet energy, as if he’s ready to spring into action but perfectly comfortable waiting for the action to find him. He has large hands with long, blunt fingers wrapped around his glass. I suddenly realize that this man I don’t want anything to do with has not only taken over my thoughts but has kindled a rare ache deep inside me. I can’t remember the last time I felt that initial flutter of desire. I am embarrassed by myself now and I turn away from him, glad he can’t read my thoughts. It’s probably time for me to leave now anyway, since I rarely have more than two drinks.

I am just about to get up from my stool when I feel him come quite close to me from behind, leaning in to speak quietly in my ear.

“I know you. I know exactly what you need. You don’t want it, but it’s killing you not to have it. And I can give it to you.”

He has spoken slowly and deliberately- there is no ego in his tone, only a statement of the facts as he sees them. This is not a pickup line, it is the equivalent of a mechanic explaining that your car’s brakes are going out, and he can replace them. Whether he takes care of it for you or not, the car needs new brakes. As he’s spoken to me, his scent has washed over me and it's warm and deep and makes me want to turn and bury my face in his jacket.

I am at a loss. With just a few sentences, he has managed to break down every barrier I didn’t even know I’d erected. The ache inside has expanded until my entire body is thrumming, my skin literally aching to be touched. I can feel my nipples painfully hard against the silk of my bra. I have forgotten to breathe- and as soon as I realize that, I breathe in and it feels like a sigh in reverse. I am on the verge of losing control and I don’t even know what he meant. Because he can’t possibly have meant what my body believes he meant. I have to find my way back to solid ground.

For the first time, I turn to face him directly. I’m confronted by hazel eyes, a strong nose, and a mouth that would be unremarkable except for the slightest of smiles. That smile is just what I need to find my response.

“We’ve never met. I’m sure I would remember. It’s also very unlikely that you would know what I need, or that I would be interested in getting it from you. For all you know, what I need is a plane ticket to Rome. Are you a travel agent?”

He leans back and cocks his head at me, considering.

“I will make you a deal. If I can correctly tell you what you need, you will concede that I DO know you, because I would have to in order to know this about you, even though you’ve never seen me before tonight. Also, if I guess correctly, you let me give it to you, this thing you don’t want but have to have.”

I feel my universe spinning on its axis. How did we go from two strangers at a bar to… this… in the past 5 minutes? I can’t think. I need to think and I can’t. There’s no way he’ll guess correctly. No matter what he says, he can’t possibly know me and he definitely can’t know my deepest secret. So it’s no risk at all to agree to his deal, is it? But if he guesses correctly- if he guesses correctly, that deal could end in tragedy. I can’t tell if I’m more afraid that he will guess correctly or that he won’t. I know that I’m in no condition to make this kind of decision, and I know that I don’t even have to make this decision. I should just get up and walk away from him. I should. But instead I say, “Deal.” My universe stops spinning, comes to an abrupt halt, and at the center of it now is this strange man.

He doesn’t move for long moment, just leans there and looks at me. It occurs to me that he somehow knows what that one word cost me. It occurs to me that this is a dangerous sign. It occurs to me that I may have just made a deal with the devil. His smile grows after a minute and then he leans in and finally speaks, very quietly. I have no trouble hearing every word.

“You need to be hurt. In every conceivable way, you need a man to remind you that you’re alive by using you as if you weren’t. You need a man who knows how to break all of your limits for the purpose of leaving you- eventually- renewed. You need to be beaten, fucked, and tortured, and you need to be forced into it every step of the way. You need pain and humiliation until you wish for death, because right now you don’t have much interest in either living or dying. You. Need. To. Be. Hurt.”

I tear my eyes away from his and stare instead at his huge hand resting on the bar. I can’t catch my breath. I feel tears burning behind my eyelids and my heart is pounding and I hear my breath coming in short little pants. I think I may have actually moaned while he spoke. If he had only kept talking, I could have cum right there on the stool without even being touched. I’m on the edge.

“Am I correct?”

I don’t look away from his hand, which closes into a massive fist when I reply, “Yes.”

He stands up abruptly and touches me for the first time. He grabs my chin roughly and lifts my face to his. His scent washes over me and this time, it smells like home.

“I know you,” he says, and then before I can react, he walks away from me, out of the bar, and is gone into the night.

...to be continued.
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