Why I Play (Part II)

Chest bound in that beautifully tight way that makes the skin turn crimson and later purple.Wrists tied to ankles, chained together so she could be hoisted up and thrown around like a piece of meat. The hood takes away her individuality, the blindfold takes away her sight. As much as I have worked to take away everything that she might call her “self” the language, the tone, the words that come out of her mouth are still hers and that is what has to stop.

I work her over physically first. I fuck her cunt. I fuck her mouth. I fuck her ass. I shove my hand inside and turn her into a moaning human glove. I punch her tits. I pinch her nipples, slap her face. I pull on the rope between her angles to remind her of her predicament of her helplessness. I tell her to cum. She does but I am not convinced. It is a weak, “Do as sir says even if I’m not really there yet.” I tell her to cum again, to squirt. She tries and fails.

I start in on the mental. I tell her that she is not a slut a slut likes to cum. She was a whore. A whore is to be used, to be abused. A whore doesn’t cum because she doesn’t care. She is not paid to care. She is there to be fucked. I lay into her, start pushing her to say it.

“What are you”

“A whore, sir.”

“Do whores cum?”

“No sir.”

“Why don’t you cum whore?”

“Because said no.”

I get out the Hitachi and start to destroy what shreds of dignity she may have left. She begs to cum and I just laugh. There is no way in hell she is getting permission. She is a whore and whores are to be used and thrown away, not be satisfied. She is leaving in two days. Going off to hunt wolves in Alaska with Sarah Palin or some shit like that. I ask her if she is going to have fun killing puppies. I tell her she is a whore, my whore. She agrees. I ask if she would fuck the first guy to walk by our house. She says she would for me. I ask her if she is going to whore in Alaska. “Are you going to pick up some guy in the bar and fuck him?”

Cue the water works. She starts to cry big sad tears as I drive the Hitachi into her clit. The crying starts a chain reaction. She looses control and starts to cum and as she does she starts to squirt. I mean buckets. She is crying and cumming all at the same time. Fluids explodes from her like she is a water balloon on dry grass soaking my bed (her side thank god). She is shaking and crying, cumming and sad and all sorts of screwed up.

Later when she is untied and the sheets have been changed, she crawls up against my chest and falls asleep. This is why I play.

One comment on “Why I Play (Part II)

  1. Molly says:

    God this is beautiful…..


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