This.

This. This.

Status: Finished

Genre: Other

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Other

Summary

This is it.

Summary

This is it.

Content

Submitted: June 05, 2012

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: June 05, 2012

A A A

A A A


 

His friends laughed, and I tried to at least smirk along, as though I saw the humor in the situation. His teeth were bared as he grinned, proud. “I tore her up.” He happily stated, sliding a thick, muscular arm around my waist and pulling me close to him.

“I don’t believe it. You’d break her, she’s so much smaller than you.” He took it as a challenge. I wasn’t so small, really, he was just rather large. He spun me around, putting an arm under my stomach and bending me over, jerking the back of my shirt up with his free hand. I knew what they saw there, and I cringed. Red slashes, some of them probably purple now, covering my back. They crisscrossed in a violent pattern, and he ran his hand along one of them, his short, dingy nails scraping into my sore flesh. They laughed, delighted. Look how he could assert himself, look how well I knew he was in charge.

“I’ve seen better.” I hated that kid. I didn’t even know him; he was just somebody’s boyfriend. Why was he allowed to see me like this? Danny wasn’t pleased. He didn’t like his authority to be put into question. He pulled me up, and spun me back to facing them. He kept my shirt lifted, revealing the bottom edge of my now stained bra and the harsh lines that continued onto my stomach; disappearing with the line of my jeans. I closed my eyes, just as his teeth sank into my neck. He had a hand buried in my hair, tangling the curls and making me strain back towards him. “Look at me.” He grunted in my ear, and I opened my eyes, focusing them somewhere in front of his face until he was satisfied.

 

This session started like most of the rest. I waited outside of school, until his van pulled into the lot. I clutched my books to my chest to hide how heavy my breath was coming, as it always did at this juncture. He didn’t look at me as I climbed into the passenger seat, set my things down, and buckled my seatbelt.

“What took so long?” He asked, as though I’d dawdled on the way to him. There wasn’t any point in answering, but I may’ve mumbled an excuse. As he pulled out of the lot, he let his hand rest on my thigh. I’d worn what he’d wanted me to: a gray pleated mini skirt, nothing underneath, and a low cut v neck t shirt. No heels. Never heels. No tights, either, they got on his nerves in the worst way. But my hair was wrong. I’d not had time to straighten it this morning, when he told me he was going to get me after school, and it hung in kinky leftover curls from the day before. He hated my curls, always wanted my hair down and stick straight. His fingers jabbed into my leg as he squeezed, heading towards his house. “My parents are gone for the weekend, and I’m housesitting.” He glanced at me. “The neighbors are further away than we’re used to.”

I knew what he meant. Normally, with people so close, he had to tone it down for practical reasons. I couldn’t be too loud, and a gag only kept so much noise in. At his parents’, though, we’d have space, and he loved nothing more than the sound of my agony. “No gag, today.” He wasn’t asking my opinion. I set my hand in his lap, getting him ready. It was methodical, trained. That’s what I knew to do, on the way home; I knew he’d use it against me later if I didn’t.

(He’d always been fond of using things against me. Once, we went out bowling with a few friends of his, and I’d taunted one of them all night. I only did it to make him mad, and it’d worked. The friend gave me a blowpop, so I did its name  justice. I sat on her lap, I made sure to bend over right in front of her, wiggle my ass as if it was helping me throw gutter ball after gutter ball.By the end of the night, she was practically clawing at me. Danny was furious. Call me a glutton for punishment, but it was worth the long night we had afterwards.)

I toyed with him a little, and he slid his hand up my skirt. His rough fingers brushed my inner thigh, and I closed my legs. He liked working for it. He pushed them apart, forcing his hand between them, while I dug my nails into his leg. He was setting the tone for the evening, and I was getting the message.  When we pulled into his parent’s drive, he nodded towards the door. “Inside.” He tossed the keys in my lap, and I did as he said. I found his room pretty quickly, the air force posters and banners making it painfully obvious. He followed me in shortly, a duffel bag in hand. He grabbed my arm, pushed me face down onto his bed, and pulled my skirt up, exposing my bare ass. I heard him rummage through the bag, heard the jingle of a belt buckle as he wrapped it around his knuckles. He brought the belt down hard on the back of my legs, and I bit into my lip to keep from whimpering. Dissatisfied, he continued, blow after blow landing on my raw ass. The studs on the belt drilled into me, and it took everything I had not to cry out. He kneeled one knee on the bed, grabbed a handful of my hair, and yanked me up to him. “Listen, bitch. I’ve got all this room to push you around in. I’ve got plenty of things to cuff you to, plenty of places to leave you, and don’t think I won’t. You’re here because I want to hear you. You’d better make some fucking noise.” Letting go, he brought the belt down hard on my back. The sharp taste of blood hit my tongue as I bit deeper into my lip. “We’re gonna be here till you’re screaming, sweetheart, so give me what I want.”  A dozen thrashes later, I was begging him to stop. He always got what he wanted.  He dropped the belt.

“On your knees.” My legs and arms shook as I propped myself up, leaning on my elbows for support. He rubbed up and down my legs, making me gasp for breath. “I did good work, bitch. You look good. Maybe I’ll show you off later. That sound good?” I didn’t want to answer him. Yes would be the worst- a lie, and not the kind I’d grown accustomed to, and it’d be agreeing with him. No would be asking for more. He squeezed my thigh, and I sank to the bed as waves of pain rippled through me. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes.” I mumbled, barely audible. He squeezed harder.

“Yes what, bitch?” I could hardly breathe. I was sure my legs were bleeding. He’d gone too long this time.

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please, let me…” He let go. Sat on the bed next to me, pulled my head into his lap. He ran his fingers through my tangled hair, paying no mind when he tugged on the knots.

“Let you what?” He looked down at me, an eyebrow raised, expectant.

“Let me make it better.”

How?”

“However you want, Daddy.” He loved hearing me call him that, and I was quickly learning that today wasn’t the day to be on his bad side. I knew his buttons just as well as he knew mine.

“You know what I like.”

I gave myself a second, then pulled myself up and slid to the floor, between his knees. Placing my fingers on his fly, I looked up at him, trying to force feeling into my eyes that I knew wasn’t there. “Can I, please?” I knew better than to do anything without permission. Something else he’d use against me later, if not immediately reprimand me.

“Go on.” As soon as I got his jeans undone, he put out his hand. It took me a minute to realize what he wanted, but I pulled a hair tie off of my wrist and handed it to him. He gathered my hair and tied it into a messy ponytail, the way he liked it during this. He wrapped his hand around it, and smiled at me. “Be good.” He urged, “Open up.” I did as I was told, and he pushed me down, holding me in place a few seconds. He liked to watch me, choking and gasping for air, my eyes watering, my makeup smearing. I tried to close my mouth, force him out so I could get some air. He pulled me off of him, and yanked my head back. “You’re going to have to learn, bitch, or I’ll keep you here until I finish. You’ll get nothing, do you understand? I could even make you get me there twice. We’d be here for hours. No more of that, keep it open.” I closed my eyes, trying to visualize something else, but found it impossible to take myself anywhere but the present. As he forced my head up and down, gagging, with tears dripping off my chin while he ruthlessly slammed himself into me, he reasoned- “I’d let you do it yourself, but you never keep up with the way I taught you, and I told you this was the consequence. I told you I’d punish you, bitch, and this is what you deserve. Learn to get it right the first time and we won’t have this problem.”

He kept on with this until he got bored, and he pulled me up by my hair. He looked me over thoroughly. Spit and tears were mixed with eyeliner, mascara and sweat. My cheeks were flushed an unappealing shade of bright red, and my shirt and bra were ruined.

“You’re disgusting.” He stood, fixed his jeans with some trouble, and pulled me behind him into the bathroom. “Clothes off, in the shower.” He yanked back the curtain, and motioned for me to step in. I dutifully removed my top and skirt. He unhooked my bra, pulling it off. “In.” I stepped in, expecting him to follow. Instead, he turned the water on, only twisting the cold knob. He grabbed the shower hose, unlatching it from the wall, and sat on the toilet. He swept the hose over me, laughing as I angled myself away from the frigid water. “Stay still.” He ordered, suddenly serious again. He focused the spray on my face, rinsing away all of the grime and taking my breath with it. “Turn around.” I did, slowly. The water hit my back, and I shrieked as it collided with the aching strokes that ran along it.  He held it there for a minute, before giving me a good once or twice over with the water.

Once he bored with that game, Danny ushered me out of the shower and toweled me off. “Cold?” he asked, running the towel along my arms. I hoped he’d hit a rare caring spree, and I nodded. “Mm mm mm…” He muttered, making a little tsk noise. He wasn’t happy. “What did I tell you about nodding, slut?” He kept his voice even and only with a minor note of displeasure, the way one would with a child. I stuttered for an answer. He stopped drying me. “What did I say?”

“I- you said…” I couldn’t remember, and in all likelihood he’d never said anything about it at all.

“I said not to do it. What do you say when I ask you a question? You say…”I knew the answer to this one, at least.

“Yes or no.”

“And how do you address me?”

“M-master or Daddy.” I was freezing, shivering. He was enjoying this.

“But never…?”

“Sir. Never Sir.” He went back to rubbing me down. He ran the towel along my cheeks, getting the last of the makeup that was left. Holding my face in line with his, he caught my eye contact.

“So you know the rules, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“But you still don’t follow them?”

“N-No, but I-“

“Well, you’re going to have to be punished, then.” He’d slipped completely into this role, and there was no getting him out of it until he tired of it, which was unlikely. This might continue for days. No more of the power hungry kid who was given a yard and took a mile; when it got to this point he was calm and self-assured. He knew he had control, and he didn’t doubt my submissive state at all. He acted with all of the experience that he had, at these times, and I was never sure if it made it better or worse. At least, when he flew off the handle, he’d burn out and it would be over quickly. This could go on for weeks sometimes, and he’d have no problem keeping tabs of my disobedience.

I desperately tried to think of a way out of it, but knew that my only route- seduction until all he wanted was base, feral sex- was cut off when he sunk into this state of mind. He knew better than to let me have that kind of control. Before I could level my thoughts, he caught my attention again.

“We’re going to do something new, and it’s going to hurt. I want you to let me hear it, bitch. We have all this room, no holding back.” I started to answer, but he cut me off. “None.” He leaned back, and put his hands on my waist, holding me tightly. He turned me around.

“Sit.” Keeping me level, he pulled me down slowly onto his lap. I felt his less than impressive asset pushing into my sore ass. Suddenly, his intentions for my punishment were pretty clear. He pushed me up a little, undid his jeans and pulled me back down, forcing himself into me. I screamed as he jerked me down, grabbing wildly at his legs. The pain that coursed through me was like nothing I’d ever felt, and suddenly he didn’t feel so small. When he somehow managed to get his belt off and took it to my stomach,  I felt tears well up and stream down my cheeks, mixing with the water drops on my chest that kept me shivering. I wasn’t sure, as he started rhythmically moving me up and down, if I was shaking for the cold or for the pain anymore. Either or, I’d completely lost control of myself, and I was giving out tiny, high pitched yells with every movement. He sped up, loving how unprepared I was, and moved one of his hands to my neck. He squeezed  ruthlessly; my breaths came in short desperate pant s and wheezes.

“Scream for me, bitch.” It was an order, but he gave me reason to when he moved even quicker. I willingly obliged. My body was close to overload, but he didn’t keep it up for long. His earlier torments mixed with the guttural cries emitting from my marked and aching body were enough to finish him off pretty quickly.  The cry I let out when he did was one unlike any other; as a reward for my stunning performance he bit deep into my shoulder.

“Very good, princess.” His breath came in short, shallow waves. I could hear the smile in his voice, the sarcasm that hung from his words. I sat there, shaking, every part of me stinging and dirty. I hated him for this, but it didn’t matter. We’d be back at it soon.

“Come on, we’re going to show you off.” He dug his hands under my ass, and pushed me off of him abruptly. I tried to moan, but no noise was left in my throat. He liked that, and toyed with me a little as I sunk to the bathroom floor. “I might have some more fun with you first. You brought a change of clothes, didn’t you bitch?” I couldn’t answer, words wouldn’t come to me. I nodded, slowly.

Danny sighed. He knelt to my level. His hand at the back of my neck, squeezing, his voice low and steady, he asked, “What did I tell you about the god damn nodding?”

 


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