“Humiliate me,” she pleaded. “Hurt me.”
The first time we met, we had sushi. Her hair was bright red, falling in curls below her shoulders. Freckles stood out on the palest of skin. Her eyes were perfectly green, perfectly white. Her cheekbones were improbably high, her lips delicately thin, shining, with blood-red high-gloss lipstick expertly applied. Her breasts defied description in the sheer white t-shirt – they were big, round, high on her chest, but falling so delicately, so naturally, without the support or protection of a bra. Her nipples protruded slightly, and her areolae, or a hint of them, could be seen. Her skirt was too short, but in a way that communicated a sort of careless lack of attention rather than calculation. Her heels were high, but not precarious. Our conversation was intimate quickly.
As we separated, she asked that I use her, told me it would give her pleasure to serve me, that her appetite for pain and humiliation was great, that she was confident she could bear – would enjoy bearing – whatever I might do with/to her. No greater flattery can I imagine. A peck on the cheek, and she was gone.
The second time, I blindfolded her as she entered the room – a bright, spare room on a high floor, overlooking a construction site of epic size, hundreds of workers scurrying around in the pit below, the noise of their jackhammers a constant murmur, but no more.
Once her blindfold was in place, I asked her to strip naked. I helped her up to the windowsill, had her place her hands against the window, and asked her to present me with her milk-white ass. I began to spank. Her round, large breasts pressed against the cold pane as she whimpered in pain. I couldn’t see, but could imagine, how they looked to the workers below. The jackhammers receded – her spanking grew deafening.
“More,” she breathed through her clenched teeth. “More.”
I kept hitting, increasing in intensity. When I thought I saw the first welt begin to rise, I eased off. “Now, take your hands off the window,” I said, and removed the blindfold. “Play with yourself. With one hand, play with your nipples; with the other, your cunt.” Her obedience was perfect, her pussy literally dripping as she slid her fingers in. She gasped, heaved, and came almost instantly, collapsing in a limp puddle on the still.
I lowered her to the floor, guided her to her knees, and fed my cock gently into her delicate mouth, the blood-red lipstick still perfectly applied, even as her tears, tears drawn by the sting of my hand, carried mascara down her cheeks.