We're in that club together. I want to fuck. I always want to. I suck you hard, even, nice. You lick me, god its pretty, its delicious. You're good and I tell you so. You take me on my knees. first my pussy, then between the cheeks of my bottom. I mewl, buck against you, it feels good. I wish I wasn't so drunk, because it could feel really good. I purr and moan and ask you if you like fucking me, you lean over me heavily, breath against the back in my neck, respond in a deep growl
"I love fucking you".
Mmm delicious music to my ears. We keep going, you come inside me, we freshen up. You touch me, tease me, torment my body, you know I'm desperate to come. You have your hands inside me, but you wont let me. I ask you, I beg you, you repeatedly tell me
"No".
Tweak, stretch, touch to roughly, hurt, hurt, pleasure, pain, resistance.
"Please god just let me come. please".
"No".
I want to hurt you.
Wednesday, 27 November 2013
Sunday, 17 November 2013
The cellar
He tells me to pull up my dress and I lean over the bench in the cellar. I don't know what he's going to do. I don't think he knows. He tells me to spread my legs. Touch myself. I'm far to nervous to appreciate the sensation of my finger tips between my legs. I can hear my shallow breath echoing around the stone room.
He steps towards me quickly, shoes on the stone floor, stands behind me, the presence of his body over mine makes my cunt twitch. He reaches forward and grips my neck. Strangling me. His hold is so tight. I can't breath. I start to panic. Really panic. I start to black out. He lets me go. I drop forward onto the bench. Struggling to stay up right. My legs feel like foam.
He steps back and laughs at me. He's talking to me. I have no idea what he's saying. I wish I could remember. I hear him pick up his wine glass and drink from it. He spanks me, a few times, just to keep me around. He pushes his fingers in between my legs.
He chastises me for not being particularly wet. I whimper piteously.
His hand finds my throat again. He pulls me into him and chokes me. I scrabble desperately at him. My grip starts to fail. He chucks me back down on the bench. I start to cry now. Burst into tears. Hyperventilate and sob. I start to think about running away. I wish I could. His fingers slide back between my thighs. He laughs at me.
"Better".
I shiver and shake and cry. Stroke, strangle, rinse, repeat. The room is a blur and I can barely stand. I hear him step back and tell me to pull my dress down. I feel like a stupid whore. Afraid and excited. Relieved its over. Sad it's over. He puts his jacket back on and walks up the stairs back to the party. My weak legs struggle to follow him but I do.
We smoke together in silence.
My neck is covered in deep red bruises, now. My legs and arms are grey with marks from gripping the bench. I'm wet now. Better.
He steps towards me quickly, shoes on the stone floor, stands behind me, the presence of his body over mine makes my cunt twitch. He reaches forward and grips my neck. Strangling me. His hold is so tight. I can't breath. I start to panic. Really panic. I start to black out. He lets me go. I drop forward onto the bench. Struggling to stay up right. My legs feel like foam.
He steps back and laughs at me. He's talking to me. I have no idea what he's saying. I wish I could remember. I hear him pick up his wine glass and drink from it. He spanks me, a few times, just to keep me around. He pushes his fingers in between my legs.
He chastises me for not being particularly wet. I whimper piteously.
His hand finds my throat again. He pulls me into him and chokes me. I scrabble desperately at him. My grip starts to fail. He chucks me back down on the bench. I start to cry now. Burst into tears. Hyperventilate and sob. I start to think about running away. I wish I could. His fingers slide back between my thighs. He laughs at me.
"Better".
I shiver and shake and cry. Stroke, strangle, rinse, repeat. The room is a blur and I can barely stand. I hear him step back and tell me to pull my dress down. I feel like a stupid whore. Afraid and excited. Relieved its over. Sad it's over. He puts his jacket back on and walks up the stairs back to the party. My weak legs struggle to follow him but I do.
We smoke together in silence.
My neck is covered in deep red bruises, now. My legs and arms are grey with marks from gripping the bench. I'm wet now. Better.
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