I'd entered our room and unhurriedly set down my bags thinking through the things I'd need to freshen up after the work day and travel. I couldn't wait to get out of my unsexy leggings and utilitarian black sweater and into the slutty new red dress I'd brought. His smile and that sexy growl/hum He does whenever I've pleased Him were my first mission to accomplish.
He was only an elevator ride behind me after having parked the car. It had been weeks since He'd been buried in my pussy. I was hungry for Him but taking my time to settle gently into our evening in private.
I turned up the heat and scoped out the lay of the room. The desk would suffice for all of the kinky fun tools I'd lugged downtown and then across the state line. Damn, that shit was starting to add up and weigh a ton. I couldn't fathom how Sherpa managed Da Beat Box, especially the often several flights of stairs necessary to enter most dungeons. Having formulated a mental plan, I hung up my winter scarves and unzipped my coat.
He walked in and shut the door.
He took less than ten steps.
I was on my knees choking on His dick less than five heartbeats later.
For the next forty-five minutes, He used and beat me like a cheap worthless whore with my coat on, purse strapped across my chest banging against my waist, tennis shoes laced firmly to my feet. Those unsexy leggings simply ended up shoved carelessly to my thighs.
There wasn't any warm up. No sexy deep kisses. No impassioned words of love and need. No hot foreplay.
He did not give a fuck.
I could feel that as starkly as I could feel the rough sheet under my cheek. His Beast was starved, and His single thought, desire, need was the pleasure and nourishment His soul would find in my willing body.
My holes were the only things that mattered. Without apology or even undressing, He drove deep into their wet warm interiors with a relentless force no one has dared. He didn't take. He impatiently seized what He Owned in an unrelenting grip that made my blood race. My usual sexual banter was silent. I couldn't form complete thoughts. In fact, we barely spoke. Of the few words He did say, all I remember is "whore...worthless...mine...bitch...fuck you..." The onslaught of His actions and my responses spoke volumes. His Demand. my obedience.
He slapped me, hit me, punished me with His palms and fists. He needed none of the kinky trappings of BDSM. No flogger kisses, crop licks, or rope strands touched my body. We were purely physical. Primal. Animals in lust bound in an ageless demonstration of Dominance and submission.
Every violent touch proved to me a little more that He was willing and able to be what I needed. I could let go. I didn't have to hold myself and the world together single handedly.
Every instance of Pain was reassurance that I was safe...that I could trust Him...that He was strong enough, confident enough, Dark enough, Man enough to handle every fucking bit of me. That no matter what had happened before this moment, I was and would always be His whore, His meat, His submissive, His property.
When His thick, long, rock hard dick tore through my cunt, I was at once completely grateful and utterly mindless. I can't even fucking explain whatthefuckHefuckingdoestome. How fucking perfectly we fit together. Face down, ass up, knees and tennis shoes together in what must have been an unsightly mess. He grabbed my hips to ride His bitch brutally hard and fast and deep.
Somehow with every minute that ticked by He pushed us further and further into our Darkness. At one point I growled "Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you...," in a defiant chant. Some small token of anger flared in me. "Fuck you..." For bringing me to this point and making me see, feel, and know this wasn't some fairy tale vision in my head. "Fuck you..." For making us wait this long to get here. "Fuck you..." For giving me the blessed intensity I'd waited a lifetime for a Man to find me worthy of. "Fuck you..."
In reply He reached under my coat and sweater with both hands to grab my bra strap and just fucked me harder. His pounding caused my coat's hood to fall over my head, which was somehow the icing on the cake of the mindfuck that devoured me.
"Fuck you..." I whispered brokenly before I dropped down into an erotic haze of guttural grunts and groans. I gave in and submitted fully into my place as He continued to viciously fuck His prey. His fuckhole. His cum dump.
When He realized I was overheating, He tore my coat, purse, and sweater from my body in seconds, littering the bed before resuming His punishing pace.
I basked in sheer ecstasy of His use and absorbed His assault as His hips slammed into my plump ass. The repetitive smack of skin echoed through the room like a freight train's rhythmic clicks along the rails.
He consumed me. He claimed me so fucking thoroughly, I still can't think of Him without wanting to fall to my damn knees. He fucked the memory out of me of every guy who'd ever touched me except Him. He fucked me like a Beast possessed. It felt like He would never stop fucking me. I needed that, I gloried in the possibility of eternity, and I took every fucking stroke like a dog in heat. This was my only purpose in life....the MEANING of life. I wanted nothing more than this existence with Him.
I can't even tell you how many orgasms ripped through me over that hour. Somehow they didn't matter. Though purely sexual, what transpired between us was so much more. As nothing else before, He stripped my soul bare and reinforced our power exchange in the most fundamental act between a Man and woman, between an Owner and His property. My orgasms were simply another layer of what He Owned.
I sobbed tearlessly as He plowed without mercy through my greedy wet cunt. I couldn't deny the truth of us.
I controlled nothing. I was nothing. I was simply...only...His.
I was so close to breaking. No one had dared take me the edge of madness. I could feel the seams of my soul stretching under the pressure, ready to shattered. It wouldn't have taken much...His voice, a hand around my throat, a little more pain, a little more pleasure...I don't know. I'm not sure either of us where ready for that.
Yes, my soul trembles. Just as I'm sure dark matter trembled before it birthed the universe into existence with a violent unstoppable force. Creation knows no other beginning than violence. I realize now that this Man may very well be the One to bring me fully to life. I hadn't realized...it could be Him. That He had the power and ability to break me wide open and set me free. That He could be the One Man who might fuck me and hurt me and toy with me as I sobbed helplessly under Him. That He could be the One to relish in my mental undoing and lick my tears for His pleasure.
I'm in trouble. I've finally met my match in so many way, and all I want is fucking more of Him and us. I look forward to when He finally breaks me. Shatters me for His own greedy, selfish, Sadistic pleasure.
~DominaKat
In Trouble - Part II
Ummmm. Fucking. Yum!
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