XII.

Blindfolded, my face is pressed into a down-filled pillow, my body held to the bed by a calloused palm at the base of my spine. My wrists are tied to the bedhead. A large rounded bolster is under my hips, forcing my ass to arch up over it.  My thighs are clamped between his knees as his cock drills into my vagina.

I hear a faint swish then a sudden cutting strike against my buttocks. I press my mouth into the pillow to stifle a scream. What is it – a leather belt, a riding crop? A ribbon of sharp pain, stinging, burning, unravels across my tender skin.I have only a second  or two to register it before I am hit again.

I arch my ass upwards towards him and his cock slides deeper within me. Its hardness is a kind of balm, filling the keening emptiness beneath my belly. I feel wetness on my face, a mixture of tears and drool. A warm rivulet of blood is seeping across my buttocks. I suck in my breath and hold it until I’m dizzy.

He hits me again, even harder. It forces me to exhale. Blood courses to every nerve ending. I want to tell him to stop but I can’t, I won’t: an intense gout of pleasure sucks the words from my mouth. His blunt cock batters my cervix in a relentless rhythm.

The hand at the base of my spine eases its pressure. Its coarseness scratches rather than soothes as it slides up my damp back. Brittle fingertips knead my twitching shoulder muscles before encircling my throat. Unseeing, but feeling everything, I  press my head backwards, distending my neck, as if to welcome them.

Squeeze, I whisper. Can he hear me?I can barely hear myself, the tone’s so low and hoarse. Choke me, baby. Fuck me dead.