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Author Topic: Anything might trigger him and she would pay for everything  (Read 1057 times)

Offline Glacialis

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She was waiting, like she did every day, naked on the bed on all fours for her man to come home from work. Hypersensitive as she was to his moods, she could tell by the way he slammed the front door shut that he had had a very crappy day. She started instinctively to pool saliva in her mouth in order to give him the very best of all can-I-kiss-it-better blowjobs.

She waited absolutely still as he took his time eating the dinner she’d left out for him before assuming position upstairs. This waiting was a daily ritual during which he expected her to properly ready her mind to absolute submission. He was generous to grant her these moments so she would have a chance to will her cunt to get wet for what was to come.

When the stairs started creaking under his considerable weight she arched her back as much as she could to thrust her ass well up in the air. Everything would have to be perfect today for her to have any hope of changing his mood for the better.

Her cunt was ticklish and twitching and she hoped he would be satisfied with how wet she was when he would inspect it. If he wouldn’t be satisfied things might turn very painful very quickly.

Nothing however went according to the usual rituals. He didn’t stop to strip. He didn’t stop to inspect her cunt. He didn’t walk around the bed to order her to part her lips for his sweaty cock. He didn’t say anything but she could tell he was seething with violent, volatile anger.

He tried to snatch a hold of her neck and she did the stupidest thing she could have done under the circumstances and flinched away from him. With a furious growl he grabbed her hair with both hands and yanked her off the bed so hard that she flew a full yard through the air and hit the floor, shoulder first, with a loud clunk. Before she had the chance to figure out that the world had spun upside down and she was now on the floor, he was kneeling astride her, pinning her against the floorboards. His weight on her body forced stomach acid up into her esophagus and she tried desperately to swallow down the burning fluid.

“Ssssslut!” he hissed and jabbed his forearm across her throat. As she squirmed he leaned more and more weight on the arm until her breath started to wheeze.

“Please,” she croaked but he pressed down even harder until she couldn’t breathe at all.

“You know what a man definitely doesn’t want to hear on his lunch break? A man does not want to hear his workmates assessing whether the best ride on his fucking girlfriend could be had fucking her mouth, her cunt or perhaps her asshole. A man does not want to hear his workmates laughing that his girlfriend looks like such a slutty, filthy little thing that she’s sure to beg to get a man to fuck her up her horny little asshole. A man DOES NOT want to hear his workmates call to him across the diner asking which is looser, his girlfriend’s cunt or his girlfriend’s asshole because she’s visibly so fucking randy that she can’t possibly be tight anymore after all the cock she’s had!”

As he ranted on his voice grew louder and louder until he was shouting at her so uncontrollably that spittle landed on her face and in her gasping, open mouth. “You fucking slut! The way you were laughing and flirting at the Christmas party, eagerly shoving those fat tits of yours at the guys’ faces, wiggling that ass at anyone who cared to have a look! No wonder they’re talking!”

They both knew she had done no such thing but the concept of facts was of no consequence when he got like this. Anything might trigger him and she would pay for everything.

She was thrashing under him, panicking when he wouldn’t let her breathe, mouthing desperately “Help!” and “Please!” and “I’m sorry!” She tried to claw his arm off her throat but he was too strong, too strong.

“Remember that god damned dress you insisted on wearing!?” he yelled. “The one your tits almost spilled out of!? Well they sure remember, YOU FUCKING SLUT! You want to act like a whore!? Fine! I’ll treat you like one!”

When he finally lifted his arm she gasped on the floor, flailing with her arms, coughing, helpless, acid bubbling into her mouth. The first punch landed just below her breasts and winded her before she had barely started to catch her breath. Her instincts told her to curl into a ball but he was atop her, furiously raining punches on her torso. He hit her so hard her bones hurt but when she dared to lift her arms to shield herself he slammed her hands on the floor so hard she thought he’d broken her knuckles.

The first punch he aimed at her face split her lip, she second made her nose bleed and the third almost knocked her out, rendering her too weak and dazed to even scream anymore. She was half-aware that he got up and thanked god that it was over. But it wasn’t. He yanked her from the floor and threw her against the wall to wake her up.

“Wakey wakey, slut!” he jeered at her, but every time he hauled her on her feet she collapsed back on the floor. He prodded her with the tip of his foot and, when she didn’t react, aimed a sharp kick at her thigh. She didn’t move and he started slapping her face over and over to get her eyes to focus on his naked, erect cock but she was too out of it. “Come on bitch, time to suck some cock!” he yelled and slapped harder, and harder, and harder, until he realized he had balled his fist at some point and was beating her up again.

“Shit!” he swore at his unconscious victim and dragged her impatiently to the bed. He threw her over it so that her legs dangled over the edge and he had easy access to both her holes. He took a minute to undress. The blood from her nose had spilled on the floor and smeared all over her. It was still running but he wasn’t content until she was bleeding from her crotch, bleeding from where sluts and whores deserved to bleed.

He yanked her thighs apart and punched her hard on her cunt but she made no other reaction than a weak, pathetic mewing sound. He shoved in two fingers, then three, then four. He forced his thumb in as well and started pushing, brutally forcing his fist to sink into her despite there not being even the slightest trace of wetness on her now. The pain made her come to a little, and when he started forcing his knuckles past her pelvic opening she started screaming.

“Take it, cunt,” he huffed. “Take it and scream. Scream for me. Scream for daddy. Scream all you want. Nobody’s going to hear you. Nobody’s coming to help.”

And scream she did. She screamed when his fist plunged through the gap in her pelvic bones. She screamed when he fucked her brutally with the fist, punching her cervix to bruises. She screamed when he set to work stretching her open, twisting his hand deep inside her battered body. She screamed when he dug his fingernails in the walls of her vagina and scratched ‘til she bled. She screamed when he yanked his bloody fist out and shoved a hard and bulgy wrought iron candlestick in its place. Her screeching grew hoarse and ragged when he fucked her mercilessly with the candlestick: quick, hard, fast - too fast for his eyes to even see the individual strokes in the dim room.

“Wiggle that ass now! Wiggle, bitch! Show me those fat fucking titties!” he yelled and yanked her around to lie on her back, stroking his cock as he took in the sight.

Her limp legs lay splayed open and the absurd grotesqueness of the candlestick jutting out from his girlfriend’s bloody cunt made him giggle with true amusement.

“Come on you little slut, wiggle!” he taunted her, failing to keep the laughter from his tone. He started slapping her naked breasts to get a reaction and when she didn’t scream hard enough to satisfy him, he slapped harder. He kept slapping and slapping and woo-hooing at the hilarious sight of her round, heavy tits lolloping around, bouncing and jiggling comically.

“Wanna make a spectacle of yourself to my workmates again?!” he shouted and yanked the candlestick from her cunt. “Go on, bitch, WIGGLE!” he yelled, brandishing the candlestick above his head.

But she didn’t wiggle. She didn’t even scream anymore. She just mewed and drooled and bled on the mattress. Her face was swollen and bruised, her hair matted with blood and honestly, she looked like shit.

“I was going to fuck you, but you know what bitch? No man’s going to wanna fuck a messy slut like that. But don’t you worry, I’m gonna give you a little something so you can make yourself pretty again.”

He reached for the heap of clothes on which his pants lay. Coins flew out, clinking all over the floor, when he tore his wallet open and took out a wad of bills. He threw her over onto her stomach again and, as soon as she was lying prone, yanked at her hips until she was, in a fashion, presenting her ass for him again. Her asshole peeked out from between her fleshy buttocks and without ceremony he pushed both his thumbs deep into her ass and stretched her wide open. She mewed in protest but was too exhausted and stupefied to do anything about this new pain, this new invasion. Yank-yank-yank he pulled her brutally wider and wider until he was sure she would gape just enough. He rolled the bills lengthwise into a long, tightly-packed tube and started feeding the dry and scratchy stick into her asshole.

“There you go, cunt. You earned it. Maybe you can buy a new slutty dress for the New Year’s party. Maybe one from which your tits really will spill out.”

Before leaving her, he dragged her off the bed and into the bathroom. First he leaned her chest on the edge of the bathtub and then hoisted her legs over the edge, thumping her down onto the bottom of the tub.

“Clean yourself up,” he muttered and turned on the water.

***

She lay under the stream, waiting for the water to rinse off the blood, sweat and pain. He would come back. Soon. He always did. He would come for her, wrap her in towels and lift her up in his arms. He wouldn’t leave her in the tub overnight. Her place was in his bed. She knew it. He knew it. He would lay her down on the mattress and push her legs apart. He hadn’t cummed today and it was her duty to take his seed in her body every day and as many times as he wished, no matter how ill or sore she was. Just as it was her duty to weather and withstand his moods. Just as it was his duty to hold her and comfort her each time after he broke her.

She’d been largely unconscious through the worst of it but her insides were so battered that the pain was still there and getting worse by the minute. It wasn’t going anywhere, not for a few days still, but she would adjust, she always did. Her ass felt strange but her body was too consumed by aches and pains for her to twist back enough to yank the bills out from her asshole. He would have to take care of that too.
Rapists should after all rape the victims exactly when, where and how the victim wants. That's how it works. Right?

Offline Carlosdevil

  • Your evil angel
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Re: Anything might trigger him and she would pay for everything
« Reply #1 on: May 19, 2015, 11:07:31 AM »
Welcome back. You've been missed.
"He won't take 'Go to Hell' for an answer. (So) I'm gonna give him directions." - Steve Freeling (Craig T. Nelson), Poltergeist (1982)

 

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