strayangel
12-20-2008, 12:59 AM
Still staring at her the man acknowledged her glance with an angry gaze. "So the fucking little bitch cannot keep her trap shut or do as she is told can she?" he spat.
Still holding her bare pussy with one hand he pinched her hard, twisting her pussy lips as he did. She gasped and turned her eyes from his gaze. Then he held the switchblade up and flipped it closed and open again with a loud click. Before she knew it he pressed the sharp tip of the knife about two inches above her pussy where he was squeezing her and pressed down until the pain was unbearable.
Cher bit her lip in an attempt to not cry out. She felt him cutting into her tender skin and then the hot blood began to trickle down the middle of her groin to the top of her pussy lips.
She could not believe her eyes. He had cut her. The shock of seeing her bleeding pussy paralyzed her. She could not breathe, she could not move, she could not utter a sound. She could only stare open mouthed at the blood flowing down her cunt. This wasn’t her Sir. How could it be?
It took all her strength not to cry out as the hot tears began to flow down her cheeks. The pain was incredible, but when she took a peek she saw that it was only a thin trickle of blood that ran down the front of her and gathered in a tiny pool at the top of her pussy.
She realized that the stranger knew what he was doing. He could have cut her badly, but it was as if he knew just how far to go and how deep to cut to produce pain and blood without causing a lot of damage. In fact the little bit of blood was already drying.
Still the realization that he had cut her sickened her. Suddenly she hated him. She stiffened and pressed her butt down against the carpet in an attempt to bear the sting of the cut, but she stayed as quiet as a mouse. Only her tears showed the effects of her ordeal as she tried to press her legs together in an attempt to make him release his hold on her pussy lips.
He pinched her cunt again as hard as he could and she bit her lip. "Don’t try to resist me you cock sucking fuck whore," and he pinched and twisted her pussy until she unlocked her legs.
Then sinking to his knees the stranger straddled her hips and he laid the knife down on the carpet near her side. With an involuntary reflex she strained against the cuffs that held her wrists immobile beneath her. Her hands and arms were getting numb from being in that position and she needed to relieve the pressure in them. She wished that her hands were free.
As she looked at the man in black straddling her she felt rage building inside of her. She wished she could grab the knife and drive it into his heart.
As if he read her mind he drew his hand back and slapped her face again. She turned her head to the side as she tried again not to make a sound.
"What's the matter whore? Dont you like this? Isn’t this what is supposed to happen to dirty little sluts?" And, he slapped her with his other hand.
Then he began to slap her tittles. He hit the outside of her tit with a hard smacking sound. Then he hit the inside. Then he slapped her titty back and forth from one side then the other harder and harder. Then he hit the other one with his other hand. Before she knew it he was slapping both titties back and forth. It startled her, but she did not dislike it.
As he beat on her he began chanting "Slut", "Bitch", "Cunt" and other terms of humiliation. It startled her, but, again she did not dislike it, in fact she found she was getting wet. She tried to close her mind to any kind of pleasure. After all she did not want to betray her Sir by enjoying anything with this man.
He hit the first titty again, harder this time. Then he hit the other one even harder. "Dam fucking slut cunt," he growled, and he hit her twice as hard. Then he began to slap her titties faster. First he hit one then the other, harder and harder.
To her amazement she found that she liked what he was doing. Snickering to himself he slapped even harder. Then he grabbed both titties with both hands and sank his fingernails into them. He grabbed the ample flesh and squeezed hard. He pulled up on her titties hard enough to pull her up off her back a little as he twisted and clawed and pinched her over and over.
She was quiet but she was breathing heavily. She really liked this treatment but she felt a guilty flush of humiliation for her Sir heating her cheeks as her body betrayed her mind. The dark stranger began to beat her titties with blows that were even harder than slaps. Her cunt got wetter and she wished this anonymous attacker would fuck her as she started to moan.
"So, you like this don’t you, you dirty little whore?" She moaned again. With a gleeful chuckle he slapped and punched and pounded her and called her names until she began to moan and whimper rolling her head from side to side.
He sat down flat on her abdomen then and she could feel the hardness of his cock attempting to push through his pants. He was rubbing his rock hard meat against her cunt and she tried to push her pussy back against him wanting to be fucked. Then suddenly as she started to tense her pussy against him in an attempt to cum he stopped.
The stranger stood up over her and even though she could not see his face she could tell from his heavy breathing and the heaving and jiggling of his shoulders that he was greatly amused with her attempts to fuck her captor.
"Not just yet Pet," he chuckled and he stepped back from her. Now she was puzzled. He had called her pet again as if he was familiar with her. Not knowing if it was her Sir or a stranger was making her nuts.
What was worse, whoever he was, he now knew that she was turned on to him sexually, which also caused her a great dilemma if he really was her Sir. What would he think of her being so turned on by someone who was not Him?
Her hot tears began to flow once again. As she watched him, without looking directly at him, she saw him step over her and bend down to pick up his knife. "Don’t move bitch or you know what will happen."
"Yes Sir," she murmured.
"Good girl," he said and moved toward the kitchen. Sir always said good girl just the way this man did, but with his voice disguised she still was not sure of his identity. The suspense, and the possible consequences terrified her.
She heard him rummaging around in the refrigerator. She heard the pop of what she thought must be one of the imported beers she had brought home for Sir. He was the only one she knew who preferred that brand. She didn’t know what to think and she began to sniffle as more tears fell down the side of her face. She was really afraid once again.
The man returned to the living room with a beer in one hand and was stuffing a fistful of some of Sir's favorite fruitcake in his mouth. He looked around the room as he ate and drank. He picked up some of the paddles and inspected them. Then he saw the rope and picked some of it up throwing a pile of it down next to Cher. She watched what he was doing suspiciously. She saw him pick up a couple of dildos and put them back on the table. Then he picked up a few other toys and put them back.
He strolled around the room looking at what was there. Then he spied the tennis racket hanging from the coat rack. It was Sir's rack, the big one that he liked to practice with. He walked back over to her and stood over her feet with the tennis racket in one hand and looking back and forth from it to her. Then walking over to the fireplace he turned his beer up and finished it. He let out a big belch and rubbed his belly as he turned back to her.
He put the tennis racket down on the sofa and grabbed Cher by her feet. He dragged her over a few feet to the side of the carpet. When he did she felt pain in her arms as he dragged her with her wrists still bound. Her hands were numb but she still could feel the pain. He watched her grimace from the pain and said, "That's alright my Pet. I will take care of that pain in your arms in a minute."
Sir knew she could not take having her arms behind her back for long and he would normally let her loose about now. Maybe it was Sir after all. She shook her head a little wishing she could stop thinking about it. Whoever it was she was still frightened and the tears started again.
She watched the stranger slide the loveseat in the living room over in front of the fireplace. As she watched she realized that she was getting cold lying there nude and she wished that she had lit a fire earlier.
Then her captor did a strange thing. He turned the loveseat around with the back facing the fireplace, kicking the pile of rope over next to it. Then he picked up a second pair of handcuffs from the pile of Sir's toys and returned to Cher. He rolled her back onto her tummy and began to rub her arms. " Be still and don’t try anything you fucking whore," he said.
"Yes Sir."
He unlocked the cuffs from one wrist. When he did he rubbed the free hand for a minute and rolled her onto her back again. She tried to move her arms but they were stiff and she didn’t have much feeling in them. She also saw that her hands had turned blue. She was puzzled again. Sir would never let her stay bound until her limbs went numb. He had told her that was dangerous.
... to be continued
Still holding her bare pussy with one hand he pinched her hard, twisting her pussy lips as he did. She gasped and turned her eyes from his gaze. Then he held the switchblade up and flipped it closed and open again with a loud click. Before she knew it he pressed the sharp tip of the knife about two inches above her pussy where he was squeezing her and pressed down until the pain was unbearable.
Cher bit her lip in an attempt to not cry out. She felt him cutting into her tender skin and then the hot blood began to trickle down the middle of her groin to the top of her pussy lips.
She could not believe her eyes. He had cut her. The shock of seeing her bleeding pussy paralyzed her. She could not breathe, she could not move, she could not utter a sound. She could only stare open mouthed at the blood flowing down her cunt. This wasn’t her Sir. How could it be?
It took all her strength not to cry out as the hot tears began to flow down her cheeks. The pain was incredible, but when she took a peek she saw that it was only a thin trickle of blood that ran down the front of her and gathered in a tiny pool at the top of her pussy.
She realized that the stranger knew what he was doing. He could have cut her badly, but it was as if he knew just how far to go and how deep to cut to produce pain and blood without causing a lot of damage. In fact the little bit of blood was already drying.
Still the realization that he had cut her sickened her. Suddenly she hated him. She stiffened and pressed her butt down against the carpet in an attempt to bear the sting of the cut, but she stayed as quiet as a mouse. Only her tears showed the effects of her ordeal as she tried to press her legs together in an attempt to make him release his hold on her pussy lips.
He pinched her cunt again as hard as he could and she bit her lip. "Don’t try to resist me you cock sucking fuck whore," and he pinched and twisted her pussy until she unlocked her legs.
Then sinking to his knees the stranger straddled her hips and he laid the knife down on the carpet near her side. With an involuntary reflex she strained against the cuffs that held her wrists immobile beneath her. Her hands and arms were getting numb from being in that position and she needed to relieve the pressure in them. She wished that her hands were free.
As she looked at the man in black straddling her she felt rage building inside of her. She wished she could grab the knife and drive it into his heart.
As if he read her mind he drew his hand back and slapped her face again. She turned her head to the side as she tried again not to make a sound.
"What's the matter whore? Dont you like this? Isn’t this what is supposed to happen to dirty little sluts?" And, he slapped her with his other hand.
Then he began to slap her tittles. He hit the outside of her tit with a hard smacking sound. Then he hit the inside. Then he slapped her titty back and forth from one side then the other harder and harder. Then he hit the other one with his other hand. Before she knew it he was slapping both titties back and forth. It startled her, but she did not dislike it.
As he beat on her he began chanting "Slut", "Bitch", "Cunt" and other terms of humiliation. It startled her, but, again she did not dislike it, in fact she found she was getting wet. She tried to close her mind to any kind of pleasure. After all she did not want to betray her Sir by enjoying anything with this man.
He hit the first titty again, harder this time. Then he hit the other one even harder. "Dam fucking slut cunt," he growled, and he hit her twice as hard. Then he began to slap her titties faster. First he hit one then the other, harder and harder.
To her amazement she found that she liked what he was doing. Snickering to himself he slapped even harder. Then he grabbed both titties with both hands and sank his fingernails into them. He grabbed the ample flesh and squeezed hard. He pulled up on her titties hard enough to pull her up off her back a little as he twisted and clawed and pinched her over and over.
She was quiet but she was breathing heavily. She really liked this treatment but she felt a guilty flush of humiliation for her Sir heating her cheeks as her body betrayed her mind. The dark stranger began to beat her titties with blows that were even harder than slaps. Her cunt got wetter and she wished this anonymous attacker would fuck her as she started to moan.
"So, you like this don’t you, you dirty little whore?" She moaned again. With a gleeful chuckle he slapped and punched and pounded her and called her names until she began to moan and whimper rolling her head from side to side.
He sat down flat on her abdomen then and she could feel the hardness of his cock attempting to push through his pants. He was rubbing his rock hard meat against her cunt and she tried to push her pussy back against him wanting to be fucked. Then suddenly as she started to tense her pussy against him in an attempt to cum he stopped.
The stranger stood up over her and even though she could not see his face she could tell from his heavy breathing and the heaving and jiggling of his shoulders that he was greatly amused with her attempts to fuck her captor.
"Not just yet Pet," he chuckled and he stepped back from her. Now she was puzzled. He had called her pet again as if he was familiar with her. Not knowing if it was her Sir or a stranger was making her nuts.
What was worse, whoever he was, he now knew that she was turned on to him sexually, which also caused her a great dilemma if he really was her Sir. What would he think of her being so turned on by someone who was not Him?
Her hot tears began to flow once again. As she watched him, without looking directly at him, she saw him step over her and bend down to pick up his knife. "Don’t move bitch or you know what will happen."
"Yes Sir," she murmured.
"Good girl," he said and moved toward the kitchen. Sir always said good girl just the way this man did, but with his voice disguised she still was not sure of his identity. The suspense, and the possible consequences terrified her.
She heard him rummaging around in the refrigerator. She heard the pop of what she thought must be one of the imported beers she had brought home for Sir. He was the only one she knew who preferred that brand. She didn’t know what to think and she began to sniffle as more tears fell down the side of her face. She was really afraid once again.
The man returned to the living room with a beer in one hand and was stuffing a fistful of some of Sir's favorite fruitcake in his mouth. He looked around the room as he ate and drank. He picked up some of the paddles and inspected them. Then he saw the rope and picked some of it up throwing a pile of it down next to Cher. She watched what he was doing suspiciously. She saw him pick up a couple of dildos and put them back on the table. Then he picked up a few other toys and put them back.
He strolled around the room looking at what was there. Then he spied the tennis racket hanging from the coat rack. It was Sir's rack, the big one that he liked to practice with. He walked back over to her and stood over her feet with the tennis racket in one hand and looking back and forth from it to her. Then walking over to the fireplace he turned his beer up and finished it. He let out a big belch and rubbed his belly as he turned back to her.
He put the tennis racket down on the sofa and grabbed Cher by her feet. He dragged her over a few feet to the side of the carpet. When he did she felt pain in her arms as he dragged her with her wrists still bound. Her hands were numb but she still could feel the pain. He watched her grimace from the pain and said, "That's alright my Pet. I will take care of that pain in your arms in a minute."
Sir knew she could not take having her arms behind her back for long and he would normally let her loose about now. Maybe it was Sir after all. She shook her head a little wishing she could stop thinking about it. Whoever it was she was still frightened and the tears started again.
She watched the stranger slide the loveseat in the living room over in front of the fireplace. As she watched she realized that she was getting cold lying there nude and she wished that she had lit a fire earlier.
Then her captor did a strange thing. He turned the loveseat around with the back facing the fireplace, kicking the pile of rope over next to it. Then he picked up a second pair of handcuffs from the pile of Sir's toys and returned to Cher. He rolled her back onto her tummy and began to rub her arms. " Be still and don’t try anything you fucking whore," he said.
"Yes Sir."
He unlocked the cuffs from one wrist. When he did he rubbed the free hand for a minute and rolled her onto her back again. She tried to move her arms but they were stiff and she didn’t have much feeling in them. She also saw that her hands had turned blue. She was puzzled again. Sir would never let her stay bound until her limbs went numb. He had told her that was dangerous.
... to be continued