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.