“You’re one of those girl who’s shut down because some guy forget her birthday.” He shot me a contemptuous look, like I was offensive in general. “I’m pretty good at reading people.” I didn’t bother to argue. I didn’t care if he knew the truth. “Let me guess,” he leaned into me, “all men are the same. Well let me ask you something, Little Thing. If all men are the same, why do women take so long to choose?”
He brushed his fingers under my chin and I turned reflexively. His dark eyes were shot through with amusement like arrows with flaming tails. “I don’t think all men are the same,” I replied, “I think all people are the same. And they’re all part of the same great mush. Man, woman, or child.”
“You think I’m an asshole, don’t you?”
“Whatever gets you off.”
He smiled as if this were hilarious, and re-thought his tactics for a while. He put one hand on my waist and squeezed as if something interesting might happen, but it was just flesh. “You’re quite dead,” he observed. “Sort of like a sex abuse victim. You go somewhere else when a man handles you.”
That one hit a little closer to home. “And you’ve had every girl since high school. And they can’t fill up the space. You’re a shallow person, but you want to be interesting, so much. You, like the employee who pretends to be the manager, yearn to be more. But you haven’t got the stuff, champ. Not now, not ever.”
He digested this and questioned, “Isn’t that how to be noble? I want to transcend my assholiness. I don’t want to be a man-whore forever. I’m hoping to progress.” He offered me a winning smile and I softened. He drew me into his arms and I went limp like prey. “You’re soft,” he said, nuzzling me. “I’ve always wanted to hold you. I thought you might bite off a finger just for the taste.”
You’ve only stunned me for a second. I turned and kissed him. He searched my eyes for clues but I was blocking him. “You think you’ve got me sussed.” I wrinkled my nose like Samantha the witch.
“Don’t I?” I could feel he was hard. He took a handful of my hair and pulled it so he could kiss my neck, like a lion holding the female with teeth to keep her from lashing when he fucked her from behind.
“You’re just a kid,” I said. “Just a boy. I’m not.”
“I know,” he said.
“You don’t get it. I’m older than time. I’m just a conduit. This body’s a false prophet.”
“They say you’re mad,” he teased, but there was truth in his voice.
“Mad as Cassandra.”
He grazed my neck. “I wanna go to the dark side.”
“That’s the thing about men.” I gripped his dick and squeezed. He moaned. “Always thinking with their little men.”
He took my hand. “You like it kind of rough.”
“I don’t like it all,” I insisted. “I’m way past sex. Sex is for people, and I don’t often get accused of that anymore.”
“You’re really weird,” he said. “But you don’t dress like a goth.”
“I don’t really need to advertise it.”
“I like weird.” He yanked my hair sideways and bit into my neck. My breath caught. “I’ll fuck you hard,” he whispered. “If that’s what you like, Little Thing.”
“Is that a joke?” I questioned. I was tall for a girl.
“Course not.” He lifted my top over my head. He bit my nipple through my tank top. My lip quivered. “Do you ever wear a bra?” He pulled the fabric in his teeth.
“Please don’t,” I gulped.
“I’ve got you begging. That’s a good sign.” He stripped me to my underpants before he even went for his shirt. He leaned in and cupped my face. My eyes strayed to his chest. A player’s chest. “I see diamonds and hexagons.” Then, “I’m missing my show.”
“It’s alright, later,” he assured me. He leaned over me.
“I need to eat my yoghurt,” I said. “I always eat my yoghurt at 10.”
“I’ll give you something to eat.”
He bit me, too hard. I squealed. “I thought you were vanilla. All the girls…”
“Why do you think I run through them like toilet paper?”
“You can say it.”
He laughed. “Real or fake?” I asked. I only liked the real kind.
“How much proof do you want?” Think carefully about it.
He finger fucked me. ‘A true sadist’s victim is unwilling’. He pressed his body into mine. He had a nice body. “Come here.” He marched me to his room, his fingers forming a bruise on my arm. “I’d advise you not to beg,” he said, just making conversation, “if you want less pain that is. Do it if you want more.”
He opened his closet drawer. I didn’t look at his hands. He dropped his boxers. He stood like a glorious vision. “This too is a lie.” I could see his eyes then, really see the look that had come into them. It was ugliness, right from the tarpits. I gasped. I had found a specimen of value. I didn’t want to disturb the nesting.
He hit me so hard I lost my breath. Then he was on me. He clamped my arms behind my back and cuffed them. “Now your panties, little one.” He pulled them down. “What I like… is to cause a lot of writhing and twitching,” he explained. “When I’ve got a girl naked like this, it looks nice.” I heard something swishing. “Ever been whipped?” he asked. “You’ve probably had a guy slap your ass, but this cuts. Hurts a lot. Do you want it?” My breathing quickened. “You don’t speak, and I’ll decide. Alright…” he paused. “Yes.” I screamed with relief as he brought the whip down. My pussy flooded with warmth. The pain stung in hot lines. I saw him in my mind’s eye raising the whip and his brutal arm, so strong and handsome. I moaned. “I’ve got to tell you something.” He brushed my hair back gently. “I can’t cum unless I hurt you. Really.” My pussy convulsed.
“Stop talking,” I warned. “I might cum.”
“This will be an interesting submission,” he fathomed. “You’ll keep rising to meet me…” His finger traced a line down my spine and ass. “But I want to meet your tolerance. Should we see how far you get?”
“Yes.” I turned my head against the pillow.
“Alright.” He spread my cheeks and placed his finger in.
“That feels good.” He started to fuck my ass. He pushed another finger in. I bucked back against his hand. My panties restrained my legs, pushed down to my knees. He freed them. “I want to spread you wide apart.”
I crawled onto all fours. “Good girl,” he cooed. “Now spread them wider.” I got into an uncomfortable position, for best viewing.
“Everything… like a dinner platter.” He traced a finger up my slit. I heard him sucking it clean. He plunged it into my welcoming cunt. Then another. He reached up and found my g-spot. I moaned, totally weak.
“Please fuck me,” I begged.
He said, “That’s not the way this works.” He traced his sticky fingers on my asshole. He started to fuck my ass again. He used two fingers. Then three. “You’re hurting me,” I gave.
“Already? I guess I know your weak spot then.”
He disappeared. He pressed a dildo to the outside of my cunt. He steadily plunged it in. I cried out. I felt filled. He turned it on and it started to vibrate.
He pressed his dick to my asshole.
“Do you like anal?”
“Good,” he said. He lubed me, at least.
“Say thank you.”
“Thank you,” I whimpered. Then he pushed in. The sensation of his dick penetrating my asshole made me scream out. He buried the head and forced in the remainder. My eyes watered with pain. My pussy was filled with the big, vibrating cock. Both of my holes were stretched. I couldn’t touch my clit, and I needed to. “Oh, God….” He pumped into my asshole. I imagined he was athletic in the odd position he’d have to be in. I always hated anal at first. It felt like being fucked by my own shit. But then I started to like it. I definitely liked it now.
“So intense… You’re violating me.”
“And you like it,” he confirmed.
“Mmm.” He smashed into me and came. He took the vibrator and worked me with it.
“Oh…” I would have preferred the real thing.
He flipped me over and took out the vibrator. It made a noise as it was removed. “Thought I couldn’t free this thing,” he mused. “You are tight.”
He removed the shreds of my panties. He spread my legs efficiently then dived onto my cunt. I wriggled and moaned as he licked and licked. He found my clit and bit it. I needed to cum so badly I might cry. Waves of tension lived in my stomach. He felt around with one hand as he kept on eating my cunt. I watched his hard arm grasping for something. I reached and passed it to him. He gave me a slow lick and I shuddered. “Thanks for the help,” he said, coming up. He attached the nipple clamps.
“Please,” I begged.
“Remember what I said.” He kissed my lips. It was a wet kiss. I nodded. He returned to his work. I lay there in bliss as he licked, building me to a slow orgasm. When it hit I couldn’t believe it, it was like a mirage. I held my breath as my pussy convulsed. My hips rose like ropes were pulling them. He nibbled my clit and buried his tongue in my pussy. I came again. “Careful,” he told me, “you’ll do me an injury.” He pressed his face in and I shuddered again. It was amazing. I giggled. “I came. A lot. Thank you.”
“No problem.” He removed the clamps (a relief.) He lay next to me, but didn’t hold me. He gave me a minute to recover.
“I need to punish you now.”
“It’s my ritual. It’s why so many of the girls run away. They can handle the pain when we’re playing, but they’re so sooky when it comes to this.”
“What do you do?” I asked, eager for a second round.
“After I fuck a girl, I put her over my knee and give her a hard spanking.”
“Yes, please,” I told him. He reached for some rope on the bed.
“Put your hands behind your back.” I turned and put my wrists together. He tied them securely. He kissed my neck roughly.
“Alright,” he said. “I won’t tie your legs because I like the feeling of restraining them with my own.” He went into his closet again and pulled out a paddle.
“I like to leave bruises,” he explained.
“I thought you were just using your hand.”
“No, I use my hand to warm the skin but it doesn’t hurt enough. This is really brutal.” I began to reconsider.
“I might not want this,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter.”
He pulled me over his lap. He planted one leg firmly over mine. He applied firm, stinging slaps with his palm over my bottom and thighs. My skin warmed rapidly. “You want some pain or just a warm up before the paddle?” he asked me.
“Do it hard,” I replied shyly. He smacked my left cheek sharply and I screamed. He repeated the slap on the same spot three times. My body jerked. He treated the right cheek to the same three hard slaps. “Thank you, Sir,” I whimpered.
“You’re a good girl,” he praised me. “Why can’t the others be this good? They never want to take their spanking. They’re always struggling and screaming about assault. You know, in the Summer, everyone knows which friends I fuck. It’s why I like to bruise the thighs as well, not that they even stop wearing their g-string bikinis. Sluts. I just love the thought of them making eye contact and the shame.” He laughed.
“You mark them,” I swallowed, “that’s hot.”
“And I’ll mark you as well.”
“I don’t want…” I trailed off.
“What?” he asked me.
“To be another one of your cast offs.” I frowned as the weight of it hit me. Used, at the end of the day, by another guy who wouldn’t call me, wouldn’t love me, the desperate, fucked up monster that I was.
“Get up,” he said. He helped me to my feet. He bent me over the bed.
“You’re forgetting something. They ran away from me, love,” he told me. “Not the other way round.”
A feeling of beautiful warmth filled me, then the wood hit. I was propelled forward into the bed as the paddle struck my rear. The pain exploded. I howled. “I don’t want another one!” I scrambled on the bed and fell to my knees. He picked me up by my tied hands and tossed me back on the bed.
“I can’t leave you half done.” The paddle wooshed down on my right cheek. I screamed.
“Is that all?” I begged.
He gathered my hair back and yanked it in one hand. He brought the paddle down on my right cheek again. I winced. He made sure he got a good swing then popped my left cheek. I collapsed into the bed. He pulled my hair painfully. I got back on all fours. He spanked me again and again. I kept my mouth clamped shut, not daring to beg. I was soaking wet. The fluid ran down my legs.
“All done,” he said. He untied me and helped me to my feet.
“It’s handy that you live with me,” he said. “If I need a fix I can give you a touch up.” I was shaking, barely standing on my brittle colt legs.
“We’re done,” he said. “Get out.”
I nodded and left the room. I heard him stepping into the shower.