Cold Cruelty

Story Info
A sadist and a painslut. Perfect together.
7.4k words
4.35
83.2k
38
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

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.