Learning to Appreciate

"Morons?!" Miguel asked her, more incredulous than offended. The fight seemed to go out of him and he turned and walked to the hallway. "She calls them useless morons for sacrificing their precious time on this Earth to train and hone their skills," he declared bitterly to no one.

Lisa set her jaw in anger. "What else does one call a bunch of men running around after one ball!? I cannot believe you would rather stay here and watch a game you're not even playing, rather than come with me to the company party. You know how close I am to that promotion," She yelled after his retreating back. "After I get that promotion, we can finally buy a bigger house and go to work on having a family of our own. That was the plan, Miguel, but all you care about is soccer!"

Lisa could hear Miguel muttering in the hallway. He kept repeating the word close in a different intonation each time. Between numerous spanish swear words she could just make out him mentioning to himself her competitors. True, they had seniority over her, and they both landed whale sized accounts recently, but that was not going to deter Lisa one little bit. Her angry musings were interrupted by Miguel returning, not with a counterargument, but with a roll of duct tape. She rolled her eyes and asked impatiently, "What do you intend to do with that?"

"I'm going to teach you a lesson, a lesson you'll never forget," he hissed, while his face was twisted into a mask of anger. "I'm going to teach you to respect the effort and sacrifice of others, and not just be obsessed with your precious, little plans," said Miguel, approaching.

Lisa was struck dumb with fear and before she could react, Miguel grabbed her by the wrist and twisted her around, pinning her arm behind her back. He grabbed the shoulders of her business suit and pulled the jacket down to hold her arms in place. "Unhand me," yelled Lisa and began to struggle.

Miguel laughed at her choice of words. Lisa struggled to break free, but he bent her over the back of the couch without much effort. He unzipped her skirt and pulled it down. Lisa was shocked, and quite a bit scared, at this turn of events. Miguel was never anything but considerate, and here he was manhandling her and ripping her fanciest power suit off of her. A small part of her responded warmly to this display of alpha male dominance, but she buried it behind an angry tirade.

Miguel, unimpressed by her screams and threats, took off her jacket. He flipped her over the back of the couch and grasped her by the ankles. He ripped her hose off and tossed her shoes aside. Lisa saw a chance to break free and she twisted and rolled away from Miguel's powerful hands. She landed into a crouch and took off at a run towards the stairs.

Miguel was faster than her and he blocked off her escape, grabbing her by the shirt. Lisa was now in the grips of panic and she flailed her limbs wildly to prevent the bigger man from grasping her firmly. Fear at Miguel's sudden violent outburst gave her the power to break free from his grasp and she ran to the kitchen. Miguel grabbed her by the shirt and it tore off her, buttons flying.

Lisa slammed the kitchen door shut behind her. She briefly considered picking up the phone and calling for help, but that would take too long. Picking up a knife was the last thing she wanted to do. As much as Miguel scared her right now, she was far more scared of allowing things to escalate further. There were only two options in her mind; run to a neighbor and wait for Miguel to calm down on his own, or stay and calm him down right away. She had never seen him so mad before in her life.

Lisa knew most women who died a violent death did so at the hands of their lovers, not some stranger in some dark alley, somewhere. When she was young, thoughts of her own mortality made her wet between the legs. They would make her seek out male company. Her favorite fantasy was one where she was naked and tied up at the mercy of some kind of conqueror, begging him to take her as his worthless slave, rather than kill her. She would masturbate imagining that she was lifting her hips in offering to the dangerous, anonymous man that now held the power of life and death over her. She would imagine all she knew in her life was destroyed and gone, parents, school, friends and neighbors. There would be no one left to judge her, so she could let go of any and all inhibitions and climax furiously. As she grew up, she found Miguel, and felt safe in his arms for the first time. Now fears of any kind made her seek him out for some tender loving.

Miguel was a kind and loving man, for his part, it was only his favorite European football club that could disturb the otherwise unflappable and tender giant. Now that giant was stripping her like a rag doll. She took off to the other door out of the kitchen and into the hallway, but Miguel was suddenly there.

She couldn't stop and slammed into him bodily with a force that knocked the air out of her lungs. Miguel didn't even flinch. He picked her up effortlessly and set her down on the kitchen counter. Lisa's vision was swimming as she desperately tried to catch her breath. She wanted to yell uncle and let him stay and watch the game.

"What a stupid thing to have such a terrible fight over," she thought. "I can just change my clothes and go without him, make an excuse and handle my competition at the party all alone. This is so silly. He hasn't really hit me and we can make up without a hitch on my end, if he'd just let me catch my breath and speak."

Miguel duct taped her mouth shut. Lisa's eyes pleaded for mercy and reason. Her heaving chest caught Miguel's eyes, and he ripped off her bra. Her arms came up to protect her modesty. She suddenly felt naked and exposed. This man was not her beloved Miguel, this was a stranger in her apartment, ogling her naked flesh.

Miguel grabbed her wrists and again twisted her around, pinning her arms behind her back. Lisa finally slowed her breathing enough to start to moan. Kicking Miguel was out of the question. If he hit her back, he would, even inadvertently, cause severe damage. Plus, a hitting match was not one she felt their relationship could ever recover from.

He duct taped her forearms together across her back, and dragged her to the living room. He set her down on the floor and shook an accusatory finger at her face. "Now, you behave and cooperate," he nodded to the roll of duct tape he held up in front of her eyes, "or there will be consequences."

Lisa had no idea how she was meant to cooperate, or with what, so she just lay there, breathing deep through her nose. Miguel gently lifted her ass off the rug and took off her panties. He paused and looked at her pussy for an instant. Lisa's face turned bright red as she realized he was seeing how aroused the brief scuffle left her. Being tied up after a physical fight reminded her of intimate fantasies long forgotten. A drop of hot juices was leaking down the crack of her ass. To Lisa's consternation, the sight of her engorged pussy left Miguel largely unaffected and he proceeded to duct tape her ankles to one another at a ninety degree angle. Her knees were wide apart and she could no longer close her legs to protect her modesty.

Miguel picked her up and set her down on the couch, belly down. He walked off where she could not see him, no matter how much she craned her neck. Lisa was nervously listening around for any sound. When the TV turned on, she nearly jumped out of her skin. The channels whooshed by, until a Spanish one came up.

"He's going to watch the game," Lisa thought balefully, "while I am duct taped right next to him. What a douche!" Still, she was quite relieved he apparently calmed down. After the game, probably even during, he would start to feel guilty and let her go. They would each apologize to the other, have great makeup sex and put this night behind them. The adrenaline rushing through her veins certainly put her in the mood for some rough fucking.

Lisa heaved a great sigh of relief and felt her erect nipples rubbing across the fabric of the couch. It was a delightful touch, but Lisa worried that her juices might be leaking and staining the cushions. The hosts on TV kept jabbering on in Spanish, which annoyed her, because she couldn't make anything out. Miguel's first language was Spanish, so the volume was turned up for his benefit. The loudness of the TV was irrelevant, the walls muffled any noise, even if she was not gagged, she could not be heard screaming by the neighbors.

After a few minutes, Miguel sat down on the couch and dragged Lisa until her belly was in his lap. He set down a small mirror on the table and she could see his eyes in it. She craned her neck and looked up at him questioningly.

"Watch the game, darling," he commanded, "or else..." He left the threat unsaid, but Lisa's heart once again started racing. Would he really hurt her if she disobeyed? She turned her face away from him and saw that the soccer players were lined up on the grass pitch and waited for something.

It seemed to her that an eternity passed while the anthems were played and everyone shook hands with each other. Finally each team took one half of the pitch and two guys stood in the circle with the ball.

Miguel's hands came down on her shoulders and he leaned down to plant a kiss on the back of her neck. Lisa moaned appreciatively and shuddered in delight. The wait kept her turned on, as she didn't know what Miguel would do next, and that added an element of danger to her predicament.

"Maybe it's time," thought Lisa. "Maybe I should tell Miguel of my dirty little fantasies. I'm planning to have his children, why shouldn't I tell him everything? Here he is, keeping me bound up to watch a game, he must be into this type of thing too." Lisa was glad her legs were immobilized apart or she would be rubbing her thighs together right about now.

"Here we go," said Miguel as they started to kick the ball around on the TV. "Your lesson has begun." He rubbed her arms up and down. Lisa closed her eyes and enjoyed the touch. She let out a muffled yelp when he tangled a hand in her hair and twisted her face towards the TV. She saw his angry eyes in the small mirror. "Watch the game, or I will only teach you with one hand." His eyes lifted back to the game before he added, "It's for your own benefit."

Lisa turned her eyes to the screen, but the game made no sense to her at all. The guys on TV kept kicking the ball to and fro, near the center of the field and Miguel alternated between tenderly stroking her back and not touching her at all. One of the men on the screen, wearing a light blue jersey and white shorts got the ball and started to run down the side of the field in a way that reminded Lisa of a touchdown play in American football.

She gasped when Miguel pinched her on the ass. He knew she didn't like that. Her eyes were fixed on the screen and she let out a muffled protest. His other hand kept her facing the screen. As the player with the ball was coming close to the end of the field, Miguel was raking her delicate skin with his fingernails. It was not enough to break skin, but it did smart.

Instead of scoring a touchdown, the player kicked the ball to the box in the middle of the field, in front of the goal, and Miguel snaked a hand to pinch and roughly twist her nipple. Lisa yelped. What was the lesson here? That soccer sucked? She had that one down already.

As the ball came down, two players in different colored shirts started kicking it between them, and Miguel spanked her hard. Despite her arousal, Lisa didn't find the spanks very enjoyable. She turned her eyes to the mirror and tried to plead with Miguel to stop, but he glanced down, tugged her hair and reminded her to watch the game.

The ball went high and far towards the center of the field and Miguel stopped spanking her. Lisa sighed in relief. A player in a striped shirt, that looked like a fashion reject, took the ball and crossed to the other half. Miguel began to gently knead her rosy ass cheeks, allowing the tips of his fingers to brush the backs of her thighs. Now Lisa sighed in pleasure and closed her eyes. This was definitely more like it.

Miguel tugged her by the hair and she instantly resumed watching the screen. The striped shirts were kicking the ball between them right next to the goal box, and Miguel's hand snaked down between her buttocks and began to caress her pussy. Lisa's hips tried to hump his fingers, but he kept them merely spreading her outer lips.

The cool air on her inner lips was not enough to cool her fire. In the aftermath of the brief spanking, she was really turned on, her nerves sensitized. She wailed in frustration, but Miguel would not frig her. The ball on the screen was kicked into the box and Miguel penetrated her with two fingers. He glided easily across her velvet folds and Lisa smiled beneath the tape. It felt so good.

His fingers went in and out twice and then stayed out. He began to caress the insides of her arms, and Lisa realized the ball was again near the center of the field. She let out a muffled grumble in frustration. His touch felt wonderful, but it was a step back when she wanted to soar through ecstasy.

For the next few minutes, she heaved exaggeratedly bored sighs as the ball was kicked around near the center. Miguel barely touched her. She watched the guys on the screen and waited for someone to make a run with the ball. Suddenly, the ball went far and high to a guy in a stripy shirt. Miguel's hands stroked down her buttock to her sex and spread her lips.

As the stripy shirt guy ran into the box, Miguel penetrated her again. Lisa tensed at the sudden but welcome intrusion. Just as she was adjusting to the touch, he took his fingers out and plunged them back in even deeper. She watched the guy on the screen shoot the ball over the goalposts and wondered if that was a field goal. Miguel cursed softly and swirled his fingers inside her pussy once before taking them out.

Lisa was now very frustrated, yet more aroused than ever before. This was nothing like her fantasies. A part of her wished she could cum and be done with the tightness in her chest, while a growing part of her wanted this teasing to go on for the duration of the game. That part of her also seemed to wish for Miguel to not touch her any more after the game ends and leave her tied up, aroused beyond belief and unable to relieve her frustration.

Lisa marveled that she could desire such a scenario, it seemed particularly cruel. Did she want to get punished like that, and what for? Her thoughts were interrupted by a scratch down her back.

The scrape would otherwise be no harder than rubbing her back against a doorjamb, but in her heightened state of arousal, it felt like a cheese grater was run over her skin. On the screen, the light blue shirts were handling the ball next to the painted box. She hoped they would not kick the ball into the box.

Just as Lisa thought that, they did, and Miguel accompanied their actions with a painful twist of her nipple and spanking her ass cheeks hard. They shot the ball over the goal and Miguel's assault on her buttock relented. Lisa realized the color clashing striped shirts were Miguel's team, and the light blues were the opponents. As she thought that, she dearly wished Miguel's team would score a goal.

Lisa lost track of how much time had passed since the beginning of the game. Whenever Miguel's team had the ball, he would touch her. His touch would bring her closer to orgasm the closer his team came to the opposing goal. When the other team had the ball, he would spank and pinch her as if it was her fault, somehow. The harsh touch took her further away from orgasm, but it also meant that the next touch on her pussy would be more intensely felt.

The heat in Lisa's pussy was stoked to infernal levels by the last spanking. Miguel's fingers on the backs of her thighs felt like a tickling feather from an angel's wings, and Lisa relaxed into them. She barely registered the long ball flying on the screen. She choked back a scream as she was suddenly penetrated by three fingers, all the way to the knuckles.

Her pussy lips were spread wide and she couldn't decide if the sensation that was overwhelming her mind was pain or pleasure. A tug in her hair focused her eyes on stripe shirt guys kicking the ball inside the box, but she only saw a red haze in her mind.

"Yes," exclaimed Miguel as the ball went into the net. "Si, muchachos!" He bent down and began pumping his fingers in and out of her bruised pussy with a steady, but fast rhythm. His thumb pushed back the hood of her clit and started to lightly rub over her clit.

Lisa's eyes rolled back in her head and her whole body tensed with orgasm. The abused skin of her back felt like it was being coated with molten lava. Lisa moaned her release into the tape over her lips. Her muscles tried to squeeze his fingers out of her pussy, but they just kept pushing through the tense ring, causing waves of heat to radiate out from her cunt. Lisa's fingers dug into the flesh of her own forearms as her chest heaved to meet with the demands for air the intense orgasm was causing.

Lisa's limbs were still shuddering from the mind numbing release when miniature orgasms were triggered by Miguel's nails raking over her skin. Her eyes focused again on the screen to see the other team had the ball. She had no idea how long she was convulsing on Miguel's lap. She noticed she was covered in sweat from head to toe.

The standard tease and torture resumed and Lisa did not think she could take much more of it. Her ass was burning with fire. She could feel welts rising across her back and her cunt felt like it had a truck driven through it. Still, all of it added to her pleasure and she found herself wishing for even more. She wanted to know how much her body could take before her mind broke.

Pretty soon, Miguel was spanking her for a full minute, and her nipples went numb from all the twisting. Finally, the blue shirts scored a goal and Lisa felt hope that the tit torture would be over.

In response to the goal, Miguel cursed bitterly in Spanish and unceremoniously stabbed a finger against her asshole. Lisa sucked in a breath and tried to twist out of the way of the terrible pressure. Before she could do anything, or even brace herself for it, the finger hilted itself in her bowels.

Lisa's eyes watered at the pain and she let out a miserable wail at the humiliation. Miguel twisted his finger around her ass, causing her to flinch her body in genuine agony, before pulling it out just as quick.

He yanked her head up and rubbed a finger across her nose and over her upper lip. As Lisa tried to take a calming breath, she was assaulted by the stench of her own shit. She shut her eyes tight. Her cheeks burned red with shame. She denied to herself that this had happened, but a growing part of her enjoyed it. Her head was spinning as she waged war between the good girl that she became and the dirty slut she was in youth.

After a few moments, the smell of antiseptic snuck into her nostrils despite the stench. Miguel produced a wet wipe out of nowhere. She glared at him accusingly as he thoroughly wiped his finger. He glanced down at her with disinterest and yanked her head around to face the screen.

After play resumed, he grasped her by the hair and rubbed her face with the wet wipe. It reminded her of wiping a newborn's butt after changing their diapers and the slut part of her reveled in the humiliating simile. The prim and proper parts of her psyche were becoming quieter by the second.

Miguel stroked her teasingly for a few more minutes and then stopped. She saw on the screen that the players were leaving the pitch and she felt relief that the ordeal was over.

"Alright, halftime," said Miguel and slid out from under her.