“Get on the wall. Now.”
I scamper across the room, if a slut can ‘scamper’ on 6″ heels. (Cherry red brand new heels but more on that later.) I slam myself on the wall with an audible ‘thunk’…because it is so much easier to do it to myself than have Him smash my face into the hard flat surface.
He says “good girl” and I melt hearing those magical two words. “Good girl” surpasses all the other sentiments, doesn’t it?
I swallow the surge of lust. I’ve been turned on, turned on hard for 40 hours or so. Waking up wet and throbby, tossing and turning in my sleep trying to deal with the unanswered needs. Now, the cold of the wall presses against my clamped nipples, the freezing chain pressed into my belly, but it does nothing to assuage the curling of lust deep in my cunt. Nipples banged with heat, from pain, from fantasy come to life, from lust. There was such intense sex-need growing between my thighs, that I wondered if I would leave a ‘snail trail’ of sex juice down the flat surface. His voice, all business, interrupts my musing.
“Turn around. Hands on the wall.”
I turn, a bit shaky, a bit wobbly and plaster my ass and palms against the wall.
“Close your eyes…”
*snap* I shut them tight.
There is a whoosh and a thwap against my left tit. A second blow falls on the clamp biting my nipple. The chain swings, tugs. I moan just a bit as He tugs the chain with whatever He is hitting me with.
My pussy is blazing with heat, oozing with liquid. I am soooo close to cumming.
And then He begins to beat my tits in earnest. He is silent as he does it, just the sound of my little gasps as the blows rain down–left tit right tit left tit left tit nipple nipple chain nipple right tit right tit right nipple right nipple right nipple…
I am whining a bit and then it happens…I cum, a wet slippery tremble as He whacks my tits. I’m dazed and confused and shaking and so fucking turned on. I didn’t know it was going to happen…the regular “I’m gonna cum” warnings didn’t flash, blare, or warn me. Just *boom* and it was drooling down my legs.
My hands clench, nails biting into palms as the tempo and force increase, until I’m pressed back as if trying to pass through the wall.
And then He is done, moving away. I breath, big rasping breaths.
“I have a surprise for you nilla.”
His voice is smooth and dark as fine chocolate. Prickles raise up along my shoulders, race down my spine. He bids me to open my eyes and I do. He waves a radio antenna in front of my face. His eyes glow.
“You wanted your tits beaten, right? Well there you go. This broke off my radio. Broke right off. And I knew then that it was for you. For you, nilla.”
Did He laugh then? As the first whooshing pass came toward me, as I shuddered, whimpered at that first unforgiving contact, and moaned with pain and pleasure, I think that He did.