Thursday 5.

He's got this nasty itchy jute rope. It's sandy brown and twisted and smells like motor oil. He fashions it into a noose and ties it around my neck. 

I sit and smoke a cigarette like its last rights or something sinister along those lines. 

He tells me to get up and bend over. 

He threads the rope between my thighs and the cheeks of my buttocks and then starts to pull. 

Fuck this is abrasive and uncomfortable and it just gets worse and worse. I clench my teeth and watch the rope disappear infront of my eyes. I think thank god it's almost gone. I think oh god it's almost gone.

The rope becomes taught. He yanks it hard. I squeal. It digs into my soft labial flesh, raggedly abrades my clit, roughs up the puckered skin of my arse. It tightens the noose. I choke. He yanks it again. I let out a gargled scream. He lets it go. 

I crumple down. The rope spills out. Covered in blood. He picks it up. He laughs and stares at it and looks at me and stares at it again. He runs it between his hands. 

He smirks "This is great stuff. I love this rope".