11 comments/ 49505 views/ 19 favorites Cold Cruelty By: MistressFeenix This is my first story. Feedback is encouraged. Thanks! -------------------------- She arrived as he had instructed; naked save for her overcoat and a pair of high heels, an active vibrator tucked between her legs. The drive had been torturous with the toy teasing her to distraction and she hadn't dared to use the parkway, sticking instead to the quieter side-streets. It had been the safer choice, but it meant that she was ten minutes late sending him her text message announcing her arrival. She waited in the car for him to appear, the noise of the vibrator seeming louder now with the engine off. She glanced around the quiet street. It was late and no one was walking around. She prayed it would stay that way. Finally he emerged from his apartment building and headed for her car. She unlocked the door and waited. The driver's side door opened and he loomed over her. "You're late." His voice was cold and demanding. A shiver ran through her at the accusation in his tone. "I'm sorry, sir. I-" "Shut your whore mouth. I don't want to hear you right now." She sat in obedient silence as he stared down at her. He reached down and flicked open the skirt of her coat, exposing her thighs and pussy to the cool night air. The vibrator protruded obscenely from between her thighs, the buzzing louder than ever without the coat muffling it, and he snatched it from her and shut it off. The toy was soaked in her juices, as were the tops of her thighs and the seat of her coat, and for a moment the car was filled with the musky scent of her arousal. He examined the glistening toy in the light of the streetlamps and then reached down and wiped it across her face, smearing her in her own juices. When it was suitably dry, he casually tucked the vibrator into his pocket and stepped back. "Get up, whore." She scrambled to obey, her legs trembling as she got to her feet. She was painfully aroused, both from her frustrating ride and from his signature brand of off-handed cruelty. Nothing could make her feel more filthy and debased as the casual tone with which he degraded her. His was the calm voice of reason, and if that voice told her that she was a filthy, shameless whore, then she felt it must be true. She stood and faced him, though she dared not meet his cold, unfeeling stare. He reached up and opened the top button of her coat so that it fell open as far as her sternum. Anyone seeing her now would instantly guess that she wore nothing beneath the coat, and with her face smeared with her own arousal she felt unbearably exposed, even on the dark, empty street. Her face burned with shame even as her pussy throbbed with renewed arousal. "Get inside. Now." His voice was still so calm and reasonable, even as her head spun with the overwhelming humiliation of her situation. Still she turned and obeyed, walking on wobbly legs towards his building. She could feel the slickness between her legs as her thighs rubbed together and wondered at the strange power he had over her. He hadn't even laid a finger on her yet and she was already reduced to a bundle of raw nerves, half-mad with desperate lust. She arrived at the front door and waited for him to unlock it, then crossed the lobby to the elevator, still in the menacing silence of his disapproval. Once inside the elevator he unbuttoned the remaining buttons on her coat, exposing her naked front, nipples hard as rocks, thighs soaked with her slickness, while she stood, silent, arms limp at her sides, eyes lowered in shame and deference. He didn't need to tell her that she would be walking the long corridor to his door like this, fully exposed, protected from the prying eyes of his neighbors only by her own fervent prayers that none would emerge during those moments. The elevator ride gave her plenty of time to ponder what lay ahead. How angry was he? How bad would he make it for her? She knew there would be pain, there was always pain, but she had never given him such a good excuse to unleash his sadism. Terrified tears were already streaming down her face by the time the elevator opened and she took her long, shameful walk to his apartment. They reached it without interruption and she breathed a sigh of relief as he opened the door and indicated for her to enter ahead of him. The instant the door was shut behind her, he spoke again. "Drop the coat. Now." She instantly obeyed, revealing her naked, trembling body to his cold stare. "Legs spread. Hands behind your head. Do it now." She assumed the position, arching her back in the way she knew he liked, thrusting her tits out, offering them up to him. She struggled to hold the position, to neither cringe nor shake as he walked a slow circuit around her and finally stood still in front of her. "Ten minutes. Ten minutes you kept me waiting, slut. Is this acceptable behavior, slut?" "No, sir." She replied in a quavering voice. "I should send you away. What good is a filthy little whore who can't even follow orders? I should throw you out on the street just as you are, so everyone can see what a worthless little slut you are." "No, sir, please don't! Please!" she sobbed. She knew he was right. She was a worthless whore who didn't deserve his time. "You want to be my good little whore again?" "Yes, sir, please, please, I want to be your good whore. Please, sir..." she panted desperately. "You know what you need then, don't you?" "Yes, sir." she sobbed, miserably, knowing what was coming. He was going to make her say it. She hated saying it, hated it almost as much as it turned her on, made her pussy throb with excitement. "You need to be punished, don't you, slut?" "Yes, sir." "Punishing you seems like a lot of work for me. Seems like it would be a lot easier to just throw you out. I might even let you take your coat, if you begged prettily enough." The thought of being sent away was unbearable. "No, please, sir, please, please don't throw me out, please!" "Then you want to be punished?" He did it every time, so easily, trapped her so easily. "Yes, sir." she replied, her voice small again as the fear set in. "Then ask me nicely." Her face burned with shame, even as her knees nearly buckled with arousal. "Please punish me, sir." "That wasn't very convincing. I don't think you really want to be my whore." "Please, sir! Please punish me! Please beat me like a whore! Please, I want to be your whore, sir, please, please!" she sobbed out, desperate now for a break in the tension, anything, any touch, be it pleasure or pain, so long as it ended this humiliating interrogation. "That's better." He said, taking a handful of clothespins from his pocket. She could see they were the heavy wooden pins that delivered a cruel pinch. "Ten pins, whore. One for each minute you kept me waiting." He reached out with his free hand and started teasing her left nipple, the first time he'd touched her, a maddeningly light brushing of his fingers that nonetheless hardened the nipple into a painfully aroused peak. Just as she was getting lost in the teasing pleasure of his touch, a clothespin snapped shut on the sensitive flesh and she cried out from the sudden, sharp pain. He flicked the protruding pin for several long moments, each painful twist sending a shockwave of arousal to her clit. He repeated the process on the other side and then added the remaining pins arranged around her nipples to maximize the pleasurable pain. When he was done decorating her tits, he continued strumming his fingers across the ends of the pins until she was sobbing, trembling with the effort of maintaining her position, continuing to offer up her tits to his cruelty even as she became lost in the confusing mixture of pain and arousal. "On your knees, whore." His words snapped her out of her trance and she dropped like a stone, desperate to please him, even knowing that he would show her no mercy, no matter how she debased herself. He grabbed two fistfuls of her hair and pressed her face into the front of his jeans, where she could feel the hard evidence of his arousal. Blind with lust, she rubbed her face eagerly into the hard shape of his cock and tried to mouth at it through the fabric. "Look what you did, whore." He growled at her, his stern calm just barely fractured by the heat of arousal. "All that slutty moaning. You got my cock all hard. How am I supposed to focus on punishing you?" "Please let me suck it for you, sir!" her mouth watered at the very idea of his slick, hard cock sliding over her tongue, the way he would force it into her throat and make her swallow every drop of his cum. She could practically taste it. "Please, please let me pleasure your cock, sir, please use your whore's mouth, please!" She recited, knowing just how he liked her to beg. "Tsk, tsk tsk." He admonished her, "You know better than that." He delivered a sharp slap across her face, forcing it away from his cock. "You know you have to suffer for my cock. You have to earn the right to taste it or to have it inside you, don't you, whore?" "Yes, sir." she replied, miserably, her face burning both with shame and the sharp sting of his hand. She knew the rules, but her mind was already becoming lost in the mix of fear, pain, and lust. "Do you deserve to taste my cock right now, whore?" He asked as he opened his jeans and held the thick, throbbing member mere inches from her face, taunting her with it. "No, sir. I don't deserve your cock, sir." she moaned as the scent of his leaking cock made her dizzy with arousal. "That's right, whore. But i will make use of that mouth, nonetheless. Tilt your head back and open wide." She obeyed and immediately her mouth was filled as he lowered his balls onto her waiting tongue. She started suckling them eagerly as he stroked his cock right before her eyes, denying her the pleasure of tasting the smooth, silken flesh. She put her all into pleasuring his sack, desperate to please him in any way she could, while she watched his powerful hand glide up and down the gorgeous length of flesh just inches from her face. She could feel his balls tighten as he approached his peak and she redoubled her efforts, licking and sucking fervently in order to please him. "Eyes and mouth closed, whore." he ground out, his voice somewhat strained now with his impending orgasm, "Now." She dragged her mouth reluctantly away from his package and closed her eyes just in time to feel his hot cum splash across her face. Another spurt landed on her upturned tits and another on her straining neck. She listened as his breathing returned to normal. His cum was dripping down her face, the smell of it spiking her lust again. "Don't you dare taste it, whore." He ordered, seeming to read her mind. "You don't deserve even a drop of my cum. You'll stay there on your knees while I prepare your punishment. You'll keep that mouth closed. If i see that you've tasted, your punishment will be much, much worse. Do you understand, slut?" She nodded, keeping her mouth obediently closed. He had effectively blinded and gagged her with his spunk, leaving her to struggle to stay still as the viscous fluid dripped in ribbons down her tear-stained face. She heard him leave the room. Left alone now, with no new stimulation, she began to feel the burn in her tits from the relentless pinch of the pins. His cum began to dry on her skin and grow itchy. She readjusted her position, spreading her knees wider, re-locking her fingers behind her neck and arching her back to thrust her tits out further, the way he liked. The stretch pulled at the pins and she whimpered behind her tightly-locked lips at the renewed pain. It would be worth it, though, if he was pleased even for a moment when he returned at her diligence at maintaining her pose. She thought about her situation. He rarely ever came this early in a session. She knew what it meant. He could go a long time before he would need release now. He was going to take his time hurting her tonight. She heard him return and move to the couch. After several long moments of feeling his eyes on her, scrutinizing her exposed, tormented, vulnerable body, offered up to him like a perverse sacrifice to a profane god, she heard his voice, calm again, cold and cruel. "Crawl to me, whore." Without opening her eyes, she lowered her hands to the floor. As gravity brought fresh blood into her tits the pins gave her a renewed wave of burning pain and she moaned, but managed to keep her lips closed. She crawled blindly in the direction of his voice. When her hands encountered the shape of his boots she positioned herself as best she could between them and resumed her pose, displaying herself for his use. A cold wet towel wiped the cum roughly from her face and she opened her eyes. He still wore his jeans, but had removed his shirt, revealing the menacing muscles that would wield the instruments of her torture. She was overcome for a moment with the desire to run her tongue over all that exposed flesh, to suck on his nipples and nibble on his neck. She knew she would never, ever be allowed to take such liberties and that made the desire that much sharper. She let out a moan of frustration. "Easy, slut, miles to go yet." He warned. She lowered her eyes again, letting her gaze go unfocused. She knew better than to presume to meet his eyes, and staring at his body was torturous. He held up the thick, black buttplug, the largest one he'd used on her. He knew she hated having anything in her ass and reserved anal play for serious punishments. While her eyes were fixed with terror on the plastic phallus, his free hand snaked behind her, snatched a handful of her hair and tugged her head sharply backward. When she gasped with pain and surprise, he pushed the plug past her parted lips and forced the thick swell of it behind her teeth, gagging her with her mouth obscenely opened. "I'd get that nice and wet if I were you, whore. You know where it's going." With that he leaned back on the couch. "Over my knee, slut." She obeyed immediately, crawling over his lap, moaning into the plug as the clips shifted again on her swinging tits. He positioned her carefully, with the swell of her pussy stationed in the gap between his legs, so that she had nothing to rub her aching clit against. She was grateful when he allowed her to support herself on her elbows, though she still had to arch her back painfully in order to avoid crushing her decorated tits into the cushions of the couch. She felt his hands on her ass immediately, squeezing the cheeks possessively and spreading them wide to expose her most vulnerable hole. "So here's what I've decided, slut." He said, his voice perfectly casual again, matching his nonchalant exploration of her body, her most secret places. "I've decided this ass needs a good hard paddling." She moaned into the plug again. His paddle was a thick, heavy, leather beast of a thing that was big enough to cover her whole cheek in a single blow, and his well-muscled arms could deliver the instrument with incredible force. "And since you kept me waiting ten minutes, that is how long your paddling will be. You're going to feel every second of that ten minutes so that you can appreciate what a long time that is to keep your Master waiting. But first, your ass needs to be warmed and this hole," he slipped a lubed finger into her asshole, while she gasped at the sudden intrusion, "needs to be filled. So I'm going to spank you until you loosen up enough to take the plug. Understood?" She was sobbing openly now, the plug only barely muffling her terrified keening. Ten minutes straight with the paddle? The paddle could make her scream with only a few blows, and she knew he had the stamina to make every second of it count. The fact that her ass would already plugged and spanked had her literally trembling with fear. His thick finger, already so uncomfortable for her, fucked in and out of her ass before withdrawing to leave her shuddering with anticipation. His hand landed with a resounding SMACK fully across her right buttock and he immediately established a brutal rhythm, covering her entire bottom and upper thighs with heavy blows. He was relentless, finding every inch of skin, every angle, every curve and punishing it thoroughly. Just as her skin was beginning to burn with pain, as the rhythm became something predictable and therefore somewhat bearable, he stopped just as suddenly as he'd begun and for a few long moments the room was filled only with the sound of her gasping sobs, which had until then been drowned out by the sound of his palm against her vulnerable flesh. She was trying to catch her breath, desperately struggling to suck in air around the intrusive plastic, when, this time, two fingers forced themselves past the tight ring of muscle that protected he rear passage. She screamed anew as the invading digits stretched and fucked her hole. He was merciless, forcing her to take his fingers, no matter how she sobbed and struggled beneath him. Just as she'd begun to relax and accept the intrusion, he withdrew his fingers and the spanking began again, his hand raining down on her tenderized flesh. It went on and on. Three and then four fingers eventually worked their way into her ass, each proceeded by a long volley of heavy smacks, Finally, he pulled the plug from her mouth and positioned it at her stretched-out hole, ready to push in. Without the plug to gag her, she found herself moaning openly, lost in the pain, the humiliation, the burning need between her legs that was only growing with each strike, each invasion, each moment of the burning pain in her tits and thighs. It wasn't until he yanked her head back by the hair, arching her back painfully in his lap, that she snapped out of her trance and tried to focus on his voice. "I want you to listen carefully, slut. I want you to remember something: You begged for this. You could have walked away. I gave you every chance. Hell, I haven't even tied you. You could have gotten up and walked away at any moment. Instead, you laid there and begged me to hurt you. You begged for this," he twisted the plug in her entrance, emphasizing his point, "and before you leave here, you'll beg me for more. Because this is what you are. You need to be treated like this because you know what you are. What are you?" She could barely breathe, much less think, her mind was awash in sensation, but this was a dialogue she knew by rote. She remembered for a brief moment the day he had beaten it into her, the way the whip had landed again and again and again as she repeated the words, the way the pain had burned them into her memory. "I'm your whore, sir." "And what are whores for?" She trembled a bit, her voice quavering with fear as she finished her answer. "Whores are for beating and fucking, sir." Just as she finished speaking he shoved the plug fully home, and she cried out at the burning stretch of it. He released her hair and, caught off-guard, she landed heavily on her well-pinned tits, unleashing a fresh wave of stinging agony from her nipples, which shot straight to her cunt in the form of throbbing, desperate need. She was scrambling to pull herself back up onto her elbows when she noticed a large, athletic stopwatch had been placed before her on the couch, just starting to tick forward. She had only a moment to be puzzled before the paddle landed firmly on her ass, just below where the plug was protruding. She screamed out in pain and then remembered his words about her punishment. Ten minutes. There had been hours of her life that hadn't seemed to last as long as those ten minutes. The paddle landed again and again in a relentless rhythm, covering every inch of her skin from the swell of her hips to the pit of her knees. Her hands clawed at the cushions, fighting the urge to reach back and protect herself, knowing it would anger him further. She realized that he had planned her position carefully; she needed to stay up on her elbows in order to save her agonized tits from being crushed beneath her body. He didn't need to tie her to keep her hands from interfering. Cold Cruelty Usually, while he was hurting her, he would talk to her too. He would pause to remind her what a whore she was, to force her to answer humiliating questions, say disgusting things or beg for more pain. This was different. He was completely focused on paddling her as many times as possible within the ten minutes. When his right arm grew tired, he passed the paddle to his left and delivered hard, overhand blows with the renewed strength of the fresh arm, and then returned it to his right so that he could use the full muscle of his dominant hand. The paddle fell again and again, the pain growing worse with each smack. Through it all, the plug and the pins shuddered with each impact, grace notes in a symphony of pain. Through it all, her dripping cunt stayed in the gap between his knees, growing wetter and wetter, squirming against the empty air, unable to achieve even the the smallest relief. And through it all the watch ticked forward with maddening slowness, making her aware of every second she had kept her master waiting. Ten minutes was a long, long time. When it was finally over, he shoved her off his lap and she landed in an undignified heap on the floor, screaming afresh as she landed on her bruised bottom and the pins shook violently her nipples. He let her lay there for some time, sobbing and squirming, blind with pain. She could feel his eyes on her, staring down at her, watching her come undone with bored detachment, as if she were some mildly interesting television show. She longed to sooth her aching bottom or her burning tits, but she didn't dare touch her own tortured flesh. Her hands stayed fisted at her sides as she struggled to compose herself. Finally, she regained her presence of mind and scrambled to her knees before him, presenting herself as he liked with her hands behind her head, hoping she hadn't angered him further by not getting into position sooner. He watched her for several long, silent moments, giving her time to wonder if her punishment was over or not. After some time, he spoke. "Well, that unpleasantness is over. I guess it's time to take these off." He reached forward and gently strummed his hands over the tips of the pins. She whimpered as the pins pulled on her sensitized flesh. It hurt so much, but it also sent little shock-waves of pleasure straight to her core. She wanted to shrink away from his touch but she forced herself to keep her back arched, keep offering her tits up to him, desperate not to displease him again that night. He plucked one pin off her left tit and watched as she screamed with pain as the blood came rushing back. She couldn't help crumbling a little and her hands came down from her neck, just for a second, the instinct to soothe the pain was so overwhelming. She managed to stop herself and regain her position, but she knew he had noticed her disobedience and she was terrified that she had earned another punishment. He saw the fear on her face and opted for a rare moment of mercy. "Shhh, it's ok, slut. I know you're weak after your punishment. Would you like something to help you stay in position?" "Yes, Master, please, sir, please help me stay, please, I want to please you, Master, please, please..." She sobbed out, grateful for a chance to show him how much she wanted to be good for him, even though she had fallen so short that night. "Ok, good girl, it's good that you want to obey me." He soothed. "Give me your hands." She offered up her hands and he buckled the thick leather cuffs around he wrists. Then he took a foot-long chain and fastened it to the right cuff. He placed that hand back behind her head, looped the chain around the front of her neck from left to right, and then put her left hand back in its place and attached the chain. Now, if she lowered her hands even a little, she would tighten the chain and choke herself. He always came up with these diabolical predicaments for her; she still had to have the self-control to hold her position, but now the consequences for failure were automatic and immediate. "Well, that should help," he said, the cruel pleasure clear in his voice. "What do you say?" "Thank you, sir." she whispered, anticipating the gasping desperation that was surely to come. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes. These," he strummed the pins again and she clenched her jaw and stretched further into her position, leaning into his torturous ministrations. He let her struggle for several long moments before plucking another pin from her left side. Her hands jerked instinctively toward the stinging pain and, for a moment, she had to contend with both the pain and a lack of air before she regained her composure and her position, gasping in air as the pain subsided. Before she had a chance to catch her breath he grabbed two more, both from the left again, and the process repeated; the burning pain, her hands moving of their own accord, the terrifying moment of choking as her breast continued to burn, before she finally forced herself back into position, gulping in air as the pain began to subside. There was only one pin left on her left breast now, the one right on the nipple, while all five pins remained on her right side. "I've just done something nice for you. whore. Don't you want these pins to come off? I thought you'd be grateful." While he spoke, he flicked and twisted the last pin on her left tit. She was light-headed now from the choking and the pleasure-pain shooting through her nipple was enough to take her right to the edge. The slightest touch between her legs at that point and she could have come, screaming and wild. It occurred to her, suddenly, that he hadn't touched her pussy at all that night. Indeed, nothing had even come close to her throbbing clit since he had taken away the vibrator out in the car. She felt her sanity slipping as he continued to tease and torture her clipped nipple. "Well, slut? Are you grateful?" "Yes, Master, thank you, Master, thank you, thank you, thank you..." The words rushed out without her thinking about them. She was well past the ability to think clearly now; she was just a bundle of sensations and reactions and needs. "Please, Master, please, please...' "Please, what, whore? What do you want?" Before she could answer, he pulled the pin off her left nipple and her reply was delayed by another cycle of screaming and struggling and gasping. When she had calmed he asked her again. "Tell me what you want, slut." The stern command in his voice forced the words out of her, despite the pain and humiliation, the fear, the desperation, her need to obey was more urgent. "Please fuck me, sir. Please, please, fuck your whore. Please, this whore needs to get fucked, sir, please, this whore needs your cock, oh, please, please, sir, please, i need it, please..." she babbled, no dignity left now, completely abject and in his thrall. She forced herself to arch her back again, offering up her body for his use. "I know you need my cock, whore. That's what makes you a shameless little slut." He replied, calmly, his nonchalance in perfect contrast to her wonton display. He squeezed her sore left tit, while strumming the clips on the right and she moaned with the confusing mixture of agony and ecstasy. "But you know you can't have my cock yet. You know you have to suffer for it first." Her swimming mind struggled to make sense of his words. Her ass was still throbbing from the paddle, as much as she also enjoyed it, his treatment of her breasts was far from kind. "Sir? But...I..." she couldn't form the sentences anymore, her mind too far gone in the sea of sensation. "You've been punished tonight. You've suffered for disobeying me, not to earn the privilege of taking my cock. For that, you'll have to take more pain." He said it with mock-regret, as if there was nothing he could do, this was simply the way of the world. And, in their little universe, he was right. This was the way it had to be. "I mean, I can hardly let you have my cock without suffering for it, simply because you've already been punished tonight. What kind of lesson would that teach you? And since your ass has already been paddled tonight..." he closed his large hand around all five pins on her right breast and yanked them all off at once. In the horrible moment before the pain hit, she heard him finish his sentence, "I'm just going to have to beat you someplace else." He sat back on the couch and watched as she squirmed for his amusement. Fresh tears poured down her face and the pain and his words sank in. He intended to beat her tits. They were already tender and swollen from the clips and the slightest touch now would feel like a bruising blow. But that wasn't the only thing that made it especially cruel. He knew that whipping her tits turned her on immensely. She was already dripping wet, already desperate enough to beg, already so painfully aroused that she thought she might simply go mad with need. As she struggled back to her position, after the gasping interim, she knew it didn't matter how hard it was on her. She would take it because he would force her to. She had no choice. He would do as he liked with her and she would take it. When he was sure he had her attention again, he stood. His clothed crotch was right before her eyes again and she could see the hard outline of his cock, evidence that her suffering and humiliation had aroused him. The heady scent of his musk hit her like a physical force and for a moment she was dizzy with the desire to swallow down his beautiful cock, now only inches and a thin layer of fabric away from her face, but she was soon distracted by his hands coming to rest on the heavy buckle of his thick, leather belt. While she watched and whimpered with fear, he unbuckled the belt, pulled it free of his jeans and sat again. He folded it once and gripped it in the middle of its length, creating a short, thick strap which he stroked over her swollen, sensitive tits. "Now, you want to get fucked, yes?" he asked, drawing out her anticipation. "Yes, sir, please, sir." "Well, I'm not going to fuck you until these tits have been thoroughly whipped. Now, remember, it would be much easier for me to just skip the whole thing. I could jerk off on your face again," the belt moved up her neck to stroke her cheeks and lips, "and then just leave you here, chained up and dripping, alone and unsatisfied. Is that what you want?" The thought being denied his cock again was unbearable, she needed it so badly just then. "No, sir, please, sir, please don't leave me alone..." her voice came out in a whine before she could control it. "Well then you'll have to be whipped." The belt was back on her tits now, circling each nipple in turn until they hardened. "Ask me nicely." She bit back her fear and focused on the prize she would earn with her pain. "Please whip me, sir." she whispered. "Well, that wasn't very heartfelt. I don't think you really want to earn my cock. Convince me, slut." Her last reserve of sense and dignity snapped and she cried out, "Please whip me, sir! Please whip my tits, please! Please, I need to be whipped, please, please, whip me, sir, please! Ple-" The belt landed heavily on her left tit, and then her right and she screamed at the searing pain. He immediately established a punishing rhythm, sometimes alternating, sometimes hitting the same spot over and over, but never breaking the beat. When he had delivered twenty swats or so, he paused and the room filled with the sound of her keening sobs. The chain had taught her to hold her position and so she had no choice but to continue to offer her reddening orbs up to his assault. "I'm getting bored. Maybe we'll skip the whole thing." He taunted her, again using the belt to tease her nipples back into hardness, maximizing their sensitivity to his cruelty. "No, please, sir!" There was no turning back now, the belt had done it's job and, along with blinding agony, had delivered burning arousal. She felt she would surely lose her mind if she didn't get get something in her pussy soon and she knew the only way to get that was to keep begging for more pain. "Please whip me more, sir, please whip your whore, please, please, whip my tits, sir, please!" He drew back the belt and landed it with resounding WHACK right on her right nipple. "Better keep begging. You don't want me to get bored again." "Please whip me, sir!" WHACK, her left nipple this time. "Please whip me, sir!" WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, right, left, right. "P-please-" spoken on a sob, "please whip me, please..." WHACK "P-p-please..." WHACK "Oh, please..." WHACK, WHACK, WHACK He knew when she was too far gone to keep begging, and so he did her the favor of continuing to beat her despite the fact that she could no longer beg. She had lost the sense to keep her hands up and the sound of her sobs was soon replaced with the simple sound of the belt landing over and over on her body as instinct took over and she choked on her attempt to protect herself. He paused occasionally to push her hands back up into position, allowing her a few gasping breaths so that she wouldn't pass out when he resumed his brutal rhythm. When her tits were bright red and burning hot, he finally stopped. She was right on the edge of consciousness, the pain, the arousal, and the lack of air reducing her to a helpless, moaning animal. He stood, grabbed two handfuls of her hair and dragged her to her feet. She no longer had the presence of mind to balance on her stilletos. She leaned heavily on him as he pulled her to the side of the couch and threw her face-down over the arm. With her hands locked behind her head she landed fully on her swollen tits, but she almost didn't notice the pain as she took in her new position. Her bruised, plugged ass was up in the air and her dripping pussy was held at just the right height for her Master to fuck. She spread her legs and arched her back, straining to provide the most obscene display possible for him, offering up her glistening cunt. Gravity worked in her favor now, helping her keep her hands in place and, as she regained her breath, she also regained just enough sense to remember what was expected of her. "Please, sir!" she cried out, no longer knowing what she was begging for, only knowing that she had to keep begging because Master demanded it. WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, The belt landed on her ass, unfolded now and with the full strength of his arm, the leather bit cruelly into her reddened flesh. Still she kept begging. "Please, please, please, sir, please!" The belt landed five more times before she heard it hit the floor. A moment later, she felt the hot, swollen head of his cock press against her entrance. He reached forward and grabbed her hair again, bending her body painfully backward so that she could not move a single muscle, trapped between his hips and the awkward curve of her own spine. "Beg." He growled out, his cool exterior finally replaced with animal lust, barely restrained by the need to take the last of her dignity before he took her body. "Please fuck me, sir! Oh, please, please, I need your cock, please fuck me, please! Please, I can't take anymore, please, I need it, please!" He pushed just the head of his cock into her and held still, groaning at the sensation, denying himself pleasure in order to torture her. She was sobbing openly now, the tease too much for her broken brain to process. He watched her squirm for several long moment, trying to impale herself further on his cock, fruitlessly struggling against his iron grip until she came to terms with her helplessness. "Beg." He repeated, her agony only feeding his arousal, egging him onto further cruelty. "Please, please, please, please...." It was a litany now, the word having no meaning, simply a sound she had to keep making for reasons she could no longer understand. She had to say it because he told her to, and he was the bringer and the ender of suffering. "Please, sir, please, please, I'll do anything, please..." Finally, he could delay his own gratification no longer and he fucked fully into her. He immediately started pounding into her, hard, punishing thrusts and within moments she was coming, screaming and writhing on his cock. Unable to move, her climax hit her helpless body like a tidal wave. He fucked her right through it, not letting up for a second, stretching out her orgasm, making the pleasure as relentless as the pain had been. She was still coming when he dropped her head and instead started raining heavy smacks down on her upturned ass, and the pain spiked her arousal again starting her climax afresh. She tried to squirm away, but she was helpless with her hands chained as they were and her feet barely touching the floor. So she had to just lay there and take whatever he gave her. "Such a filthy little whore." he ground out through gritted teeth. "You'll do anything for my cock, won't you, slut? You'll let me do anything. I can beat the shit out of you and you'll still beg for it. Shameless. Filthy. Whore." Each word was followed by a particularly hard thrust, his cock seeming to batter her very soul. "Yes, sir, anything, sir, anything, please, sir..." she moaned out as a new wave of pleasure assaulted her with the cold sound of his voice. "You're barely even a person. You're just this body for me to use, aren't you?" "Yes, sir! Please use me, sir!" "What are you?" "I'm your whore, sir!" She could feel herself building to another climax as she could tell he was building to his. "What are whores for? What are you good for?" "Oh, god, beating and fucking, sir! Whores are for beating and fucking!" As if to prove her right, his hands moved to the plug and started fucking it in and out of her in time with his hips. The feeling of both holes getting fucked was too much for her and she muffled her scream in the couch cushion as she came again, the pleasure shuddering though her body like a seizure. Just as she felt she could take no more, he pushed his cock and the plug into her hard and she heard him groan with pleasure as his hot cum filled her. The feeling of being filled was enough to set her off again and they moaned together for a moment, both lost in ecstasy. He pulled his softening cock from her body, but left the plug in place. Through the haze of release, she heard him zipping his jeans back up and walking across the room to the small bar he kept. She had not been ordered to move and so she stayed as she was listening to him pour himself a drink and then seat himself in the easy chair across the room. She could feel his eyes on her and it occurred to her suddenly what she must look like; reddened, welted ass with the thick end of a plug protruding obscenely from the hole. Thighs covered in both of their cum, dripping from her swollen, hard-used pussy onto her slutty heels, which seemed to be asking for it. Bruised tits trapped beneath her prone body and a chain around her neck locking her hands. She was the perfect picture of an abused whore. Every part of her body bore the evidence of what she'd allowed him to do to her, begged him to do. He sat there scrutinizing her, making her aware of the obscene display she made, and soon she was sobbing with shame. She was exactly what he said she was. She was a filthy whore. ---------------------- He made no move to soothe her as she cried, simply sipped his scotch and enjoyed the show. He loved this moment, watching her realize exactly what she was, and he wanted to take in every detail of her self-recognition. The memory would be enjoyable later, perhaps in the shower in the morning. There really was nothing like taking a woman apart, reducing her to filth, making her roll around in it and then showing her a mirror. She was gorgeous like this. No pride, so defenses, no will, no ego left. Just the naked animal. Cold Cruelty When she had calmed a bit, when the cum and the tears had had some time to dry on her skin, he spoke. "Stand, whore." He said it quietly. There was no need to shout now, she would obey him instantly, simply because there were no thoughts left in her own head. He watched her struggle to her feet and wobble on unsteady legs, balanced on precarious heels. "Come to me." She crossed the room awkwardly. He knew the plug was making every step an agony and that, with her hands locked as they were, balance was extremely difficult. He waited patiently as she humiliated herself, stumbling and swaying her way across the room. When she reached him he simply pointed at the ground and she dropped to her knees as if they had been broken. He reached forward and unclipped the chain from her cuffs and then removed them. "Turn around. Forehead on the ground." She obeyed and he pulled the plug from her body. "Stand. Put your coat on. You may have one button until you get home." She pulled the coat on and he watched her struggle to decide which button she would use. She chose one in the middle, which meant the coat would just barely cover her breasts, but would stay closed around her hips. "Get out of my sight. I'll see you next week. Don't be late."