Chapter 1
I can't take it any longer, Curt thought. I can't take one more minute of this, I can't take another word from her, another movement of her body without doing something about it this time.
He was sitting on the couch, staring at Cissy, who sat on the chair opposite him. Her smile was enraging Curt, her sly, knowing smile, as if she were just daring the man to do something. Curt knew it was working, for he could hardly sit straight on the couch any more.
He longed to get up and run to her, to grab her hard and hold her in his arms, to feel the warmth of her flesh against his, the flesh that he had tasted before, but which she still held back from him when she wanted to, as if she were trying to torment him.
She raised a cigarette to her lips, then blew out a thin stream of smoke in Curt's direction. The man stared at her with a look that resembled hatred, his eyes scanning the slopes and hollows of her body.
Cissy was shapely, quite shapely, with short brown hair, wide brown eyes, and thick red lips. Her tits were large and bounced every time she moved, quivering deliciously under her tight blouse. Her legs were thin and shapely, sheathed in the tight material of her jeans, her feet bare and her toes painted an enticing bright red.
Shit, what a hunk of ass, Curt thought. It drove him crazy to think that only a few days ago, he had been with her naked, had been lying on top of her with his body pressed against her, their flesh exposed and warm, her tits soft under him, her cunt tight and wet around his swollen rod.
He remembered that night, how they hand gone to dinner, and how anxious she was to get back to his apartment. He could recall how anxious she had been to get out of her clothes, too. He had been sure he had stumbled on a hot box with Cissy, and figured he would be seeing a lot of her. After all, dishes like her are hard to come by, and one that has hot pants for him, Curt knew, he should hold on to.
But this night, how different. She had him, he knew that, and she knew it. She was holding it up to him. He knew that he was just waiting for him to make a move, so she could humiliate him with a rejection. That's her game, he thought.
Curt knew he should throw her right out. But how could he? There she was, in all her luscious splendor, her tits still bobbing like balloons under her blouse, and he had to throw her out? No, that wouldn't do. His cock was already swelling at the mere thought that he might get to make love with her again that night.
It had been a long day, and Curt longed to relieve the tension with a good, long session of love, to drain his balls before retiring and satisfy the nagging lust that had plagued him all day, after Cissy had called at the school and told him she was coming over.
Curt Taylor was a teacher, working in a high school for students interested in the fashion trades. He taught the usual subjects, English, History, but most of the other teachers had more unusual jobs, perhaps teaching sewing, dress designing, and so forth. He enjoyed the school, however, for it gave him an opportunity to meet different people, unusual people, and the chance to work in a school that was ninety-percent female in the student body.
But every ass, every pair of tits, every pair of red lips, every bare white leg that he had seen that day had only served to remind him of Cissy, and their date. He could hardly wait to get out of work, to shoot right home, shower and eat, and wait for her arrival.
For what he asked himself, lighting another cigarette. She's a tease, a bitch, a cock-teaser that won't come through now. She had given him a taste, and now wanted to watch him suffer, he was sure of it. As he stared at her smiling, smug face, he had the urge to punch her in the face.
"How about some records?" he finally asked, breaking a long silence.
"If you want," she replied, unconcerned.
Her cute reply did nothing to cool his anger. The thought of punching her made - him suddenly fill with satisfaction, as if he knew he would enjoy that. Yes, that would be great, to watch her surprised look as I wiped that grin right off her face with a good hard crack. He had never thought of actually punching a woman before, but now that he did, the idea thrilled him.
But he could remember making love with Cissy, and other girls, and how their howls had driven him up the wall with delight. He loved nothing better than to hear a girl moan, or scream, in pain of pleasure, it didn't matter to Curt. He liked to stare down at their faces at he drove his rod in and out, watching their bodies rock with lust and the force of his blows, and hear them screaming loudly, their faces contorted with bliss or agony as he slammed his tool in and out and stared down, smiling in a self-satisfied delight.
Perhaps that was just the tip of the iceberg, he thought. If I could get that much pleasure out of listening, I could certainly enjoy tormenting a girl even more. And who would be a better target than Cissy, that bitch?
He put a few records on and then sat back down on the couch across from her. He was smiling now, and she was surprised, and puzzled. She knew what she was doing, and satisfaction on Curt's part was not in the script.
But he was grinning, and staring at her just as hard as she was staring at him. He was picturing her face as he choked her hard, her lips wet, her eyes glazed, her voice broken as she screamed out for mercy. I would show her what it's like to really be in torment, he thought.
"What's the big joke?" she finally asked.
"I'm just thinking."
"Some evening," she said, as if to blame him for the boring, eventless night they had spent together.
"That's not my fault," he said. "You sure you just want to sit here?"
"What else is there to do?" she drawled.
Her voice sent shivers up and down Curt's spine. He hated her, hated her snug scowl, her raspy voice, hated everything about her. That bitch! That tease! How could I have ever liked her? She's good for nothing.
Curt was tired of playing games. His cock was still half-erect, and he figured he might as well shoot for the moon. He didn't care if he never saw her again. She was only another girl, a secretary, only a twenty-three-year-old secretary, and they were a dime-a-dozen for a good looking man like Curt Taylor.
"I could think of a lot of things to do," he replied, glaring right at her.
"Oh?" she sighed. "I bet you can. You could have taken me out, you know."
"That's what you want, eh?" he smiled.
"What's the matter with you all of a sudden, Curt?" she frowned. "You're acting so funny."
"I could think of things we could do right here," he went on, without taking his eyes from her face for a second.
She shifted nervously on the chair. I'm getting to her, he thought. Now I'll really see how tough she is.
"I suppose we could sit around all night and stare at one another," she sighed.
"I asked you if you wanted to go into the bedroom," Curt snapped. "You know what we could do. I could fuck the living shit out of you, Cissy, and you know it."
He was thrilled as he watched her glow bright red, and turn away from him to stare at the corner of the room. She spoke without turning to face him.
"You've got some damn nerve," she said.
Curt suddenly stood up in the center of his living room. "Don't give me that shit," he snapped. "I fucked the ass off you last time, and you loved it. I can't stand teasers, Cissy, so knock it off."
"You can't expect to get something if you haven't worked for it," she replied coldly. Rage welled up inside the man. He again longed to run at her and punch her, but decided to scowl instead.
"You want it," he glared in rage, "you want to suck it, you want me to ram it in your fuckin cunt, don't you, bitch? Say it, don't play games. Tell me you want my cock!"
She stood up, shocked and puzzled. "What the hell are you talking about. No man talks to me like that, you creep. I'm leaving right now.
Curt watched her ass shake deliciously as she walked toward the closet for her coat. He was glad he had spoken up, glad he had spoken his mind. He hadn't expected her to react any differently than she had, but it didn't matter. The thrill of abusing her, he realized, couldn't be matched even by having her sexually.
"You cheap cunt," he laughed, wallowing in his delight as he shouted his abuse at the woman, who was searching for her coat in the closet. "You think you're such a piece of ass, don't you?"
"Please, Curt, stop it, it's getting really ugly," she replied.
"It'll get a lot more ugly," he snapped. "I hate you, you fuckin cheap bitch. You're such a tease, you think you can make me worship you, don't you. You want me to follow you all over in worship of your cunt!"
"Stop it! she screamed, now visibly upset by his remarks. She had found her coat, but could hardly put it on. "Please, Curt, what's got into you?"
Curt couldn't have answered that question himself. Curt Taylor was usually a quiet, friendly man, never a brute, never nasty or snobbish. He was liked by everyone in the school, and by just about every girl he had ever gone out with. He had many friends in the city, and no one would have imagined for a minute that he was capable of such brutality, of gaining such pleasure in Cissy's humiliation. He could see her hands trembling, and knew he had riled her good. His cock was stiff, and he felt the blood pulsing against his pelvis as the rod swelled further, his heat aroused by the sight of her helplessness.
"You're better than a whore?" he asked. "Why? You wanted me to take you out, to spend money on you, and then you were going to fuck the ass of me, weren't you?"
"Stop it!" she moaned.
"You were, say it! he bellowed. "You would have sucked on my cock all night, and loved it! You cheap piece of shit, I should slap your face!"
Her body started to shake, as the tremor of her sob took hold and she let lose to her agony. His words were still booming in her ears, and she tried to slip her arm into the coat. She had to get out, and to get away quickly.
"You'll find another cock, won't you, cunt?" he screamed "Fuck you!" she howled back, finally slipping one arm into the coat and starting for the door.
Curt ran to the door and stood in front of hit, block her way.
"Please, Curt, let me out," she said firmly.
"Suck my cock," he grinned.
"Please," she said, getting more worried now. It was as if he were suddenly crazed, and she feared him. "Let me go, Curt."
"Why should I?" he smiled. "I like to see you suffer. You made me suffer."
"I never did that."
"I call it suffering," he snapped. "You come over here and flaunt yourself all over, and I have to sit there and watch your fucking big tits, and your ass, and you know how much I want you. But you've got to play games, right? That's how it always is. And I'm sick and tired of it, you hear? It's about time that someone else was made to suffer."
"I think you're losing your mind," she said, stepping back from the door.
"No, I coming to my senses," he replied. "I'll make you suffer, and I'll like that."
"No, get out of the way," she screamed.
"Please, Curt, let me go, I won't come back."
"Ha, bet your ass you won't, he said.
His eyes were glued on her bobbing tits as she stepped back in fright. His rod was pulsing against his bush, hot and hard and fully elongated, the cap bloated with his lust. The sight of her in fear, the sight of her helpless, and still enticing, made his heart beat wildly. No, he couldn't resist, he said to himself. But why should he?
"I'll ask you one more time, Curt," she said, "please le me go."
She walked right up to him and stood face to face, as if she were trying to stare him down. He glared back, and his eyes were glued on her mouth, her rich, full lips, her smug scowl. Suddenly he was filled with a disgust for her, a rage against her, and he spit in her face.
"Curt" she screamed, her scowl disappearing.
Curt hauled off and slapped her face hard, and she went stumbling backwards into the apartment, finally tripping up on an ottoman and falling hard on the rug.
"You cheap bitch!" he screamed.
"You're crazy!" she moaned, holding her cheek which warmed and smarting from the blow.
"Get up," he said, walking over to her and standing above her, his arms on his lips.
"Please," she shuddered, "what's going on? I didn't do anything, please, Curt, you're going crazy."
"That's what you thin," he replied. "I'll show you who's going crazy, when I get finished with you you'll be out of your mind with pain."
The gleam in his eyes terrified her, and she began to crawl away from him on the rug, her lips now trembling in fear.
"I said get up!" he shouted.
"No, don't hit me," she cried.
"I swear I wont," he said, still standing right above her, following her around as she crawled.
"Promise?" she said, rising to her knees.
"I won't, I swear it, just get up."
She started to rise, first climbing up on one leg and then standing. When she was standing on both feet, Curt swung with all his might and slapped her across the face, knocking her right off her feet again.
"Cunt!" he bellowed.
She was sobbing madly now, curled up in a ball, as much from the sudden shock of the blow as from the pain itself. "Oh, shit, what's going on?" she moaned.
Curt ripped off his shirt, then pulled his pants down over his legs as she sobbed. His cock was completely swollen, and bulging out from under his tight white briefs as he stepped out of his pants and left them on the floor.
"Look at this!" he smiled.
She looked up and screamed when she saw that he was almost naked. His cock was pulsing visibly under his briefs, and his flesh was white and bare in the bright light of the living room, covered with a thin mat of black hair.
"Oh, no, please Curt," she sobbed.
"Take your clothes off, bitch," he said.
"OH NO!" she moaned.
"I said take your clothes off," he screamed, running at her and grabbing her by the hair.
He pulled her hair out and started to drag her around on the rug, and she wailed in pain and fought to keep up with him so that her hair would not be pulled out that hard.
He pulled her to the couch and then picked her up. She had no choice but to rise as he pulled on her brown hair, and once she was on her feet he pushed her down onto the couch and leaped on her.
"Get off, oh shit, Curt, no, please, don't stop it!" she howled as he pinned her tightly to the couch.
"I'll take them off myself," he laughed, still holding her hair to keep her still.
He slipped his finger between the buttons of her blouse and pulled out hard, and the buttons snapped off and flew into the air. Her blouse fell open, and he saw the white material of her bra underneath, barely hiding the soft pillow of her tits.
"Please, oh, shit, no!" she continued to wait, struggling feebly under him as he pinned her with his weight and pulled harder on her hair.
He pulled the blouse off and then reached under her body for her bra clasp. He found it and undid the snap, the ripped the cups off her breasts, leaving the white mounds quivering on her chest.
He was delighted to feel her chest heaving as he came down on top of her, his chest pressing against the soft, warm bulge of her globes. Her tits were round, firm, without the slightest sign of a droop, and her nipples were wide and long, a delicate tint of pink.
He reached in and grabbed on of her tits, yanking it hard and pulling the nipple outwards.
"Oh, shit, Curt STOP IT!" she bawled, struggling madly to push him off.
He picked his chest off hers and slapped her tits together, watching them quiver madly and the orbs bound into one another with a loud slapping sound. He slapped again, and she cried out in pain and despair.
"I'll show you what happens when you TEASE!" he laughed. "I'll show you how much fun it is. Isn't this fun, bitch?"
"Please, Curt, you're hurting me, let me go."
He slipped his fingers under the hem of her pants and down towards the heat of her crotch. But her jeans were tight, and he had to pull the snap open to push his head down further.
Her crotch was warm under his hand, and he pulled her zipper down to spread apart the folds of her fly. He could hear her moaning, begging him to stop, and could feel her hips swirling as she tried to hinder him from removing her pants.
"You weren't so worried the last time," he said. "You couldn't wait to get your pants off. Well, I'm going to help you now."
He tugged on the pants and slipped them over the bulge of her ass, feeling his hand brush against the warmth of her thighs as the jeans were pulled down along her legs.
"Oh, God, no!" she blurted out, feeling her legs suddenly bare, her crotch covered only by her thin panties.
He pulled her pants right off her ankles, and then ripped hard on her panties until they too were gone from around her legs, and she was naked. Then he leaped up from the couch and stared at her, smiling in mockery.
She sat up on the couch and looked around for her clothes. What a body, he thought. Her tits were swinging madly, her nipples long and pink, her legs were white and smooth, the bulge of her hips circling the dense blackness of her bush in the center. Her ass cheeks were shaking as she rose from the couch, trying to hide her nudity with a hand in front of her bush.
"You make me laugh," he said. "You're naked, and you're trying to cover it up. That's not the way you acted the other night. Don't you remember? You sucked my cock, and you couldn't get enough of it. You wanted to fuck all night, didn't you?"
"Please, Curt, this has gone far enough, I want to leave," she said, reaching for her clothes.
He ran at her and threw her back on the couch, then picked up her clothes and threw them across the room. Then he turned around and glared at her again.
She was trembling. She could certainly see how angry he was, and, worse yet, how much he was enjoying tormenting her. She had no idea just how far he would go.
"I'm going to teach you a lesson," he said. "I'm going to make you beg to suck my cock."
"Never!" she scowled.
He smiled and pulled his briefs down. As the elastic band passed his tool, the rod snapped against his belly, stiff and hot, the cap wide and red and fully bloated.
'Oh, God, no!" she said, getting up and running from the couch as he stepped out of the briefs.
But the sight of her running made Curt even hotter. Her tits swung madly as she ran, and her buttocks were quivering like never before. He longed to dive on her, to feel her under him writhing in pain, to mark her body with the scourge of his love.
"You need to be taught a lesson," he said, cornering her and coming at her, both now completely naked.
But she took off and ran into the bedroom, and he chased her there and shut the door behind them.
"No, you cant get away," he laughed. "There's no way out now."
She dropped to her knees. "Please, I'll do anything," she whimpered, "don't beat me, Curt. Please, let me go, I'll do anything, just don't hurt me."
"You sure changed your tune," he said. "But I think you still need a good spanking."
"Oh, no, don't come near me!" she screamed as he started to walk towards her. Her eyes were glued on his rod as if she feared he would beat her with it.
He threw her on the bed and dove on top of her, then grabbed a wad of her hair and tugged so hard that her breath was taken away. He maneuvered her around so that she was lying across his knee, her buttocks right under him.
The sight of her buttocks, white and round, so soft and warm, made him more eager than ever. He held her hair in one hand as he started to spank her hard on the ass, his open palm clapping loudly into the soft flesh of her ass.
"Oh, stop!" she shrieked. "Oh, please, STOP IT!"
"You've been a bad girl," he said. "This will do you good, believe me."
He pummeled her behind, spanking her again and again, leaving her buttocks quivering and red. He alternated from one round cheek to the other, and left them both equally red. He knew how much they were smarting, for even his hand was already paining him.
Why should I hurt myself, he thought. He spanked her again a few times as she continued to howl, then pushed her off and onto the floor and ran to the closet.
She curled up in a ball on the floor, her body racked with pain. She certainly thinks it's over, he thought. She's in for a surprise.
He found the leather belt in the closet, the thick, heavy black belt with the large gold buckle. This will do the trick, he thought.
He ran at her again, and when she looked up and saw him coming at her with the belt, she screamed as if she were in the throes of death.
"Oh, shit, Curt, don't, please, I can't take it any more, let me go. Please, I beg you, don't beat me!" she cried.
She jumped over the bed, trying to get around to the other side, but he swung hard with the leather end of the belt and caught her on the ass, the crack echoing through the room, followed immediately by her agonized howl.
He had knocked her to the bed with the blow, and she tried to dive again. But he raised the belt high and swung down with all his might, and the leather slashed across her back, leaving a long red mark and knocking her right back on the bed again.
"Oh, no more," she barely got out.
"You bitch, I'm just beginning," he shouted.
"You need this, you need a lesson. Beg me, beg me to stop."
"I will, I will," she cried, quickly climbing to her knees on the bed to beg him.
"Beg me!"
"Please, don't beat me," she pleaded. "I'll do anything, I can't take this any longer."
"Say you learned your lesson," he replied. "Tell me you were wrong, that you need me, that you want me, that you deserved the lesson."
"I did," she replied quickly.
"SAY IT!"
"I deserved it all," she cried. "I'm no good, and I want you, I'm lucky to have you, I need you, please, stop!"
"What are you?"
"Please, Curt, no more."
"You're a BITCH!" he snapped. "Say it. Tell me what a cheap piece of trash you really are."
When she hesitated, he raised the belt above his head, and she broke down again.
"I'm a bitch!" she howled. "It's true, I'm no good."
"You want me," he scowled. "You'll worship me for the rest of your life.
"Oh, shit, YOU FUCKIN BASTARD, LET ME GO!" she shrieked. "I hate you, I hate your fuckin guts, let me out of here!"
She dove off the bed, her rage having taken control of her fear and agony for a brief, unfortunate moment. Now she curled up in the corner, shuddering at the thought of what was in store for her.
"You cunt!" he bellowed, running at her. "I see you haven't learned your lesson."
"I have, I have!" she cried out. But it was too late. He was on her, and started to whip her savagely with the belt, the sharp black leather coming down hard and often over the expanse of white flesh under him.
He beat her until she was whimpering on the floor, her back and buttocks reddened and her tits sore and smarting with the lingering blow of the leather. He stepped back and laughed at her, his cock still hard, still beating madly with blood. He knew that it would not be long now before he relieved the tension inside him, the tension that was driving him to beat the girl so unmercifully.
This is pleasure, he thought, this is real pleasure. I had no idea. He did know that he had no resets about what he had done to her, and that he was eager to continue. His only regret was that he hadn't learned the pleasure of brutality a lot sooner.
"Now who's tormenting you?" he laughed.
"Please, Curt," she said, "I didn't do anything to you."
"You teased me."
"I'm sorry, but this is too much, I can't take it. You've got to let me go."
"I don't ever have to let you go, bitch," he laughed.
"Oh, shit, it hurts all over," she sobbed.
He strapped the leather belt around his waist. Strange, he thought, but the feel of leather, the warm, soft leather, aroused him. He had never felt like that with the material, but there was no doubt about it now, he enjoyed the sensation.
"Feel the leather," he said, letting the end of the belt dangle down near her face as she sat on the floor.
"No, get away with that thing," she replied.
"I said FEEL IT!" he barked.
She gripped the leather and held on to the end of the belt. "What of it?"
"It feels good," Curt said. "Don't you agree? Or perhaps you will find it better when it's on your ass."
Suddenly she yanked hard on the belt, and pulled it from his hand, then jumped up and stood against the wall.
"You bitch!"
"Don't come near me," she said. "Now, I'm leaving, and if you try to stop me I'll whip the shit out of you."
"You bitch, I trusted you, and this is what you do."
"Get away," she warned.
"Try to whip me," he laughed. "You're really in for it now, bitch. Boy, are you going to get it."
She began to tremble with fear, realizing that she would still not get away, and that she had angered him as never before.
"I'm going to tear you apart," he laughed.
"Oh, please, I'll give it back, just let me go," she wailed, her voice cracking in terror.
"No dice," he grinned.
She started to wail, and he ran at her. But she swung hard with the belt and caught him on the shoulder, knocking him back. She bolted for the door as he held his injured shoulder.
"STOP!" he shouted. "I'll fix you!"
He dove at her, and she turned again to lash him. This time the blow did not stop him, and he grabbed her hard around the waist and threw her on the floor.
She tried to get up quickly, but he slapped her across the face hard enough to knock her down on the rug again. She squirmed in terror as he ran after her and grabbed the belt, then started to beat her all over the back.
"No, no, no more!" she moaned, barely able to speak between the hard, loud cracks of leather on her white flesh.
When some of Curt's rage had died down, he grabbed her by the hair and brought her back to the bed, throwing her down violently on the mattress.
"What are you going to do?" she whimpered, tears running down her face, tears of pain, tears of utter humiliation.
Curt ran to the closet and dug through a pile on the bottom until he found a piece of coarse twine. Then he returned to the bed to find Cissy curled up in pain, afraid to move or speak any longer.
"You should have been a good girl," he said. "You shouldn't have tried to get fancy like that. Now you'll have to pay, now you'll have to learn your lesson."
He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her arm back so that he could wind a piece of the twine around her wrist. When the cord was tight around her white flesh, he attached the other end tot he post at the head of his bed, then did the same with her other wrist.
"What are you doing?" she wailed, kicking her legs madly but unable to do anything about stopping him. Her hands were now both bound tightly to the bed.
"You're going to be helpless," he said. "That's the way you should be, helpless, completely unable to move. Then you'll obey, I can tell you that. You won't have a choice."
"Oh, this is all a dream, it has to be, a terrible dream," she sobbed.
"It's read, bitch, it's real," he laughed. "You'll see just how real the pain is in a minute."
She started to wail hysterically as soon as he grabbed her legs and held them steady. The feeling of being completely helpless was too much for her, and she tried to kick her legs about madly to escape.
But he had her where he wanted her. Her arms were tied back, her tits stretched almost flat by her arms, and her legs, long, white, and fleshy, were sprawled out, spread apart wide by the angle, for each ankle was tied to a post at the foot of the bed.
Curt stood over her and glared down at her body. Her flesh was alive, glowing, covered with sweat, and he felt his cock swelling so hard that he thought it would burst with lust. He could hardly wait to dive into the pillow of her naked body.
"The twine hurts so much," she cried. "Please, let me out of here, Curt, I'll do anything."
"I want to hear it again," he said. "Tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me to beat you again."
"No, I don't."
He swung with the back of his hand and slapped her across the face twice, once on each cheek. Then he reached down and held her two nipples between his fingers, pulling them out slightly from her white, fluttering globes.
"Say it!"
"Let me go!" she said. "You can't get away with this!"
He started to tug on her nipples, and she howled in pain as the tender pink buds were stretched out from her tits and squeezed hard between his fingers.
"Say it!" he shouted in her face, his nose only inches from hers now.
"I want it, I want it!" she shrieked. "I want you to beat me, I was you to fuck me, oh, shit, FUCK ME!"
He dove on her, his ass coming down hard on her tits as he let her nipples go. He sat up on top of her body, and could tell by the redness of her face that she could hardly breathe, his weight resting fully on her chest.
He took his cock in his hand and rubbed the swollen cockhead against her face, around the nose, over her eyes, then down along her cheeks as she twisted her head back and forth to avoid him.
Suddenly he slapped her face hard.
"Stop moving, stop it!" he barked.
She couldn't answer. Her breath was long gone, and she was struggling to breathe. He raised his ass from her slightly to let her get a breath, feeling the heat and softness of her tits under his buttocks.
He rubbed the tip of his cock against her face again, then pushed in on her lips. She bolted them shut.
"Open up, tell me you want it!" he shouted.
He slammed down on her body again, knocking the wind out of her. Then he reached back and grabbed a wad of pubic hair, yanking it hard.
"NO, oh, God, no!" she blurted out. "Say it!"
"I want it," she moaned. "Oh, I want to suck it, give it to me now!"
He pushed the tip of his cock through her lips and down into her mouth, and saw her face redden as her mouth was stuffed with his long, engorged member. He pushed until the cock was fully buried in her mouth, her lips against his bush.
He knew that she was choking on his rod, for it was pushed all the way into her mouth and deep inside her throat. He pulled back and saw her gasp for air, then lunged again and quickly surrounded his tool with the hot, wet sheath of her oral cavity.
He could feel her tongue licking around his rod, as she tried to keep it from being pushed down her throat. When he pulled back and lunged again, her whole body was shaken with a violent jolt, and the bed creaked loudly.
She was screaming, but her screams were muffled by his cock as he pumped in and out and swung his taut balls into her lips. She was gasping for air, and every time he pulled back she inhaled deeply.
He knew that each lunge jolted her body and made the twine dig further into her flesh. He started to drive his rod home as if her mouth was a cunt, and he could feel the soft, wet flesh of her tips slipping down along his cockflesh, her hot mouth enveloping his tool in her creamy wetness.
He hinged again and again, and heard her grunt in pain and lack of breath each time he sliced in. The gism was already soaring towards his pole, and he could hardly wait to dump it in her mouth.
'Take it, take it all!" he laughed, watching her face contorted in agony as her mouth was stuffed with his cock, her body rocked with pain, the twine boring into her flesh, his weight pressing down on her helpless, naked body.
'This will teach you, bitch!" he shouted. "You wanted it, and now you've got it. Oh, shit, take it all, take it all!"
He lunged in as fast and as hard as he could, and started to shake all over as his rod was filled with gism. Her mouth was like an over around his tool, and the steady grunt that rose from her throat with each painful lunge made him hotter and hotter.
"YOU'RE IN AGONY. BITCH!" he barked in her face, just before his voice cracked and he started to lunge faster and faster into her, his cock driving hard and deep into the heat of her mouth and throat as his gism swelled the cockhead and prepared to spurt into her mouth.
He could feel her whole body shaking in pain as he pulled back and then sliced his rod up into her mouth again, the gism shooting out and splashing into her mouth in a long hot spurt, then another, then another, as she groaned and gasped for air.
He shot his spunk in long, scalding spurts, filling her mouth and driving the seed down into her throat as she writhed madly under him, her head impaled on the stake of his cock. She was completely helpless, he knew, and the idea made him shiver with unbelievable delight.
When his balls were drained and his cock was starting to grow limp inside her, he slowed his thrusts and then glared down at her contorted face, his smile mocking her.
"How was that, bitch?" he asked. "You still want to tease me now?"
He pulled the rod out of her mouth, then grabbed her head and pulled her up painfully.
"Lick it clean," he ordered.
She had no choice but to obey, and left his rod sparkling clean. Then he laughed again at her, and bounced up and down to make her groan in agony.
"Please, no more," she wailed. "Let me go, I can't take it, please."
He glared at her, then spit twice in her face, the white bubbly fluid hanging on her tear-stained cheeks.
"Cheap bitch, this is nothing compared to what you deserve," he said, spitting a third time and then rising from her body.
She said not another word as he untied her and sat on the bed to watch her dress. She dressed quickly and then started to run for the door, too glad to be free to think of saying a word.
"Wipe your face off, bitch," he laughed. "You've got come all over you."
He sat back on the bed, fully satisfied. No, he had no regrets. He didn't care if he never saw her again. There would be others. His only regret was still that he had not realized sooner the delights of brutality.