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IC : Weblogs : NakMuay : "You. (Story.)"
You. (Story.) (1)
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Posted by NakMuay on Sun 27 May 07, 11:16 PM
You breeze through the front door smiling, full with the relief of finishing another 8 hours of office tedium. Your eyes rest on me and, ever perceptive, you sense something is seriously wrong. Your expression changes to one of concern and you look at me quizzically, wondering what is causing the charged atmosphere in the room. I stare back at you, not speaking or moving a muscle, waiting for your eyes to light upon what I have resting upon the coffee table.
Eventually you spot it. An ultra thin steel rod, perhaps 2 and a half feet long and maybe a quarter of an inch thick. Your eyes widen with shock, but quickly your mood turns to indignation. You start to tell me there is no way I'm coming anywhere near you with that thing, but are rudely interrupted as I grab you firmly by the arm and frog-march you to the computer at the other end of the living room. Displayed on the screen are the full details of your lies and deceit that I have uncovered this afternoon. Your mumbled attempt at an explanation is silenced by my glare and is replaced with sullen resignation. You are frogmarched again, this time through to the kitchen, where you are roughly thrown over the table. I scoop both your hands together into one of mine and hoik your arms up high behind your back. You begin to struggle slightly in my grip, but I use my weight advantage to pin you securely to the kitchen table. You gasp as you feel the cold plastic tie against the skin of your forearm as I bind your arms together behind your back, twisting the plastic round and round, forcing it into your skin so that any movement on your part is certain to cut you.
You are bent over the table with your ass high in the air, struggling to stay still to avoid the pain in your arms. Your skirt is lifted and panties pulled down in a brusque, workman-like manner. You close your eyes and screw your face up, trying desperately not to think about how intensely the rod is going to hurt you, scared of the pain - but equally almost willing it to come, because every second after it begins is one second closer to it finishing. You hear my footsteps returning from the living room and unable to move in order to turn round, are forced to visualize my eyes boring down upon you, the rod securely held in my left hand. With your eyes closed, your hearing begins to intensify and you can just make out the soft swoosh through the air as the rod is raised into position.
For a few seconds we both remain there, in silence, perfectly still. The tension is unbearable – worse, you begin to think, than the actual punishment itself is going to be. But you are wrong. Suddenly you hear a sharp rush of air as the rod whips down into your bottom. The crack pierces the silence in the room but has time to fade away before the searing pain shoots from your bottom, flowing into every part of you and consuming you entirely. My command for silence is barely understood, let alone adhered to, as you wail incoherently and rock from side to side on the table, the cuts from the plastic ties on your arms not even registering into your consciousness. You don't notice as your underwear swiftly pulled from around your knees and over your feet, but you do groan in surprise slightly as you register the fabric being pushed firmly into your mouth. The elastic from your panties is pulled tight around the back of your head and I quickly secure a knot, pushing the seat of your panties further and further into your mouth to complete the gag.
You feel my right hand on your back, steadying you and controlling you, and out of the corner of your eye watch me pick up the steel rod with my left. You hear the rod cut through the air again, and again the agony burns through you, taking you over, leaving you incapable of even trying to struggle against it. As the pain reaches it crescendo, the rod is brought down again and again as I methodically beat you. Your tanned round bottom has thin white lines stretching across both cheeks, but as the skin registers the wound, blood rushes to the sides of the welts, turning their extremities dark purple. The pain is so intense it approaches something like exhilaration, wave after wave courses through you, the adrenalin from the shock of the beating almost lifting you outside of yourself. And then it stops.
Your bottom aches with an incredible intensity, each throb almost like a new stroke. You realise this may not stop hurting you for weeks. You cough slightly into your gag and collapse your weight onto the table, breathing heavily through your nose. Your mind is filled by the ferocity of the beating, barely comprehending what you have just been through. And then I enter you. You jerk up with a start, but your head is forced down onto the table as I fuck you, each thrust forcing my stomach painfully into the damage on your ass. Again and again I pound into you, the method of my fucking a world away from the gentleness and tranquillity of the hotel room where we first lay together. Sex as punishment, lust as pain, love as anger. The sentiment with which I am fucking you starts to dawn on you, and for the first time fat tears begin rolling down your cheeks. Then suddenly, inexplicably, you feel an orgasm begin to build within you and begin to writhe against my cock, welcoming anything that will displace your pain. The strength of your movements begins to overtake me also, and I cum gasping into your pussy, filling the gap inside of you. As soon as I am done I pull myself forcefully out of you, leaving your pussy dripping onto the floor. As the orgasm fades you begin to remember the brutality with which you have been treated, and again the sobs begin to rack your body. You roll slightly on the table and loose your balance and begin to fall, but I swiftly return to you and catch you in my arms.
You are carried up the stairs to our bedroom, cradled in my arms, sobbing gently into my chest. I place you gently on our bed, still bound and gagged, and move you into a comfortable position on your side. I then turn round and leave the room. You hear my footsteps go down the stairs and hear the front door open and close. The only thing you know for certain now is that I will return.
Edited Wed 30 Jul 08, 12:42 AM by NakMuay
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