Saturday night, date night, and she had received her orders, the same as every week. Each week they would take it in turns to pick where they went, Italian this week, but he would always choose her outfit. For tonight he had picked black skinny jeans and a long sleeved blouse, that hugged tight around her slender waist and her generous breasts. Both chosen for the fact that they showed off her fantastic curves, whilst hiding as much of her skin as possible, since it was still marked in red and black and blue. Luckily he'd also chosen a nice warm jacket for her, since it was a chilly evening and she was stood outside of the restaurant waiting for him.
Finally she saw him, half-jogging towards her from around the corner. He was dressed for the cold too, with a jumper over his white shirt, and brown leather boots that meant he towered over her even more than usual.
"Hey, sorry I'm late" he apologised, bending down to kiss her. His lips were cold from the chilling wind, but she felt the heat within him still. He never disappointed on date night, and his kiss meant it had started.
"It's okay," she replied, "but I'm cold now so you owe me a drink to warm me up."
"Okay, that's fair" he agreed with a smile, leading them towards the entrance, wrapping an arm tight around her. She flinched as he touched the marks he had left, which were all still sensitive and sore. He knew what he was doing, and chuckled as she gave him a hard stare.
Dinner, as ever, was gorgeous. She enjoyed pasta and a few glasses on wine, while he had pizza, whilst they chatted about nothing in particular.
"Wanna get dessert?" she asked
"I'm okay, but feel free if you want to though," he replied. "But," he continued with a smirk, "I've got another treat in store for you."
"A treat huh?" she teased back, as her mind raced considering the possibilities. Each idea that flooded her overactive imagination sent sparks down her spine, and made her wriggle a little in her chair. Subtlety she undid a button of her blouse to show off a little of her cleavage, as he replied,
"Oh yeah, something you'll really love. Something sweet, and hot..."
"Oh," she giggled, "is it a chocolate cake?"
"Not exactly," he replied with a laugh.
"That's a shame," she pouted.
"Why don't you let me get the bill?" He suggested "and I'll tell you about your sweet treat on the way home."
"Okay," she purred.
The taxi ride home was mercifully short. The bruises on the back of her thighs made it uncomfortable to sit in a car as it bounced over speed bumps, and his hand rested on what he knew was a sore spot. Subtly she tried to move his hand from it, by shuffling or crossing her legs or holding his hand in hers, but each time his hand found another place to rest that was uncomfortable for her.
The taxi pulled to a halt near her flat, and she stepped out, leaving him to settle the fare, and immediately dashed for the building's door, to spend as little time as possible in the cold. A lift was already at the ground floor when she pressed the call button, and she quickly darted in and chose her floor, aiming a cheeky wink at her date as the doors closed in front of him.
She was perched on the end of her bed, shoes and jacket removed, blouse unbuttoned to the bottom of her chest by the time he stepped into her flat.
"That wasn't very nice" he joked, as he hung his leather jacket up.
"No," she replied, "it wasn't."
"And you know what happens to girls who aren't nice?"
"No, I don't." She lied, "you'll have to show me."
Swiftly he stormed over the room, and gripped her tight around the throat, pulling her to her feet.
"This," he barked "is what happens to bad girls."
Her heart raced at his words, and at the crushing feeling of his hand on her neck. For a long moment he held her like that, staring hard into her big brown eyes with an evil glare, watching her grow more panicked as she struggled at his hand. Finally he relented, dropping her back to the bed.
"Oh, is that all? Maybe I wanna be bad then," she teased, wiggling her body back and forth.
Again he went for her throat, in one movement wrapping his fingers around her neck and pushing her down onto the bed, as he straddled her.
"Maybe you wanna feel my hand around your neck?" He asked. "Maybe you want me to choke the fuck out of you? Maybe you wanna hurt?" His other hand slapped her across her cheek, and she let out a surprised squeal.
"Yes" she panted back, "but you'll need to do better than that to hurt me."
She saw the anger flash over his eyes as he heard what she'd said. He drew a slow breath through gritted teeth, and tightened his grip. As his eyes narrowed, and focused, hers grew wide. Her vision began to blur as he stared her down.
"How's this?" He growled. She tried to reply, her mind full of insults and witty retorts, but the words wouldn't form. "How's this?" He grunted, slapping her hard across the face, making her whimper. "Answer me when you're spoken to!"
The grip around her neck released, and she drew a long wheezing breath, filling her burning lungs with fresh air.
"Do better" she spat, doing her best not to show how much his slap was stinging.
"Oh" he said with a grin, "someone's a needy little brat tonight, aren't they?"
"Oh yeah" she nodded back.
"Maybe what you need, is a good fucking. To feel yourself filled up, to feel my cock pounding your pussy. Do you think that's what you need?" Every word increased her heart rate further, each one making her feel hotter, sending sparks through her body.
"Y-yes please" she whimpered, struggling to contain her excitement.
"Oh it's such a shame that you don't get to cum then" he teased with a smile. "That I'll get to use this perfect body for my own pleasure, and you'll get nothing." He ran his hands down from her neck, over her breasts and around to her waist. His hands, although cold from the autumn air, made her feel hot through the fabric of her clothes. Slowly they moved to her buttons, following the tight fabric and popping each one open. One at a time they came undone, revealing more of her soft white skin, each one increasing her excitement.
"Please sir, are you really gonna make me go all month?" She asked, even though she already knew the answer. When he said he'd do something, he did it.
"Of course" he replied, leaning down to kiss her stomach. Each of his kisses sent sparks through her, and she began to open her legs for him, as his lips moved down her tummy. A whole month! She hadn't gone that long without cumming since... she couldn't even remember. He'd put her on no orgasm before, for a day, or a week, but never this long. The more time she spent with him the more she realised how much control he had. Nobody else would have gotten away with telling her she couldn't cum for a month, she wasn't even sure why she was letting him do it. They'd only been together a month, and already she was wrapped around his finger. Her occasional dominant side all but smothered out, her needy horniness hanging on his every word and commend. Was it respect, fear, love? Or was he just that damn good at what he did? She didn't know, all she knew right now was that his lips were driving her crazy, as they worked their way back up her stomach, towards her chest, as his hands undid her bra.
She moaned softly as his tongue flicked at her nipples. Ran her fingers through his hair as he sucked on them, and tugged gently. Soon the need in her body was growing, and she was whimpering with his every movement.
"Please" she begged, pushing his head down towards her hips "more."
Not one to disappoint, he moved down her body, sliding his torso between her open legs. Her heart rate climbed as the her jeans came undone, revealing her underwear. Slowly he slid them down her long slim legs, dragging his nails over the skin as he did, leaving red lines in their trail and making her tense. The tight denim removed, his lips worked their way, ever so slowly, up her legs. He kissed her calves, inching upwards, and she whimpered when they reached her thighs. Slowly they crept forwards, his hands going ahead and gripping her by the bum, lifting her hips into the air. Every second of it was driving her crazy, and he knew. He knew she was horny, and that being told she couldn't cum only made her want it more. But he was a tease. The more she whimpered and begged for him to fuck her, the slower his lips moved.
"Please, c'mon, this isn't fair," she pleaded. He didn't reply, only bit the skin on the inside of her thigh and listened to her shriek as his teeth left their marks. Finally he reached the line of her underwear, and then he stopped, and stood up, looking down at her. He couldn't help but admire her body. Long, slim legs, a flat, defined stomach at the centre of a slim waist. And the most perfect breasts he'd ever seen. Yes she had scars, she had marks of her past struggles, she had imperfections, but every centimeter of her was amazing, every mark and spot and mole only adding to her perfection, like the paint on the canvas of a contemporary masterpiece. And every little bit of her belonged to him.
"What are you doing?" She pleaded, slowly rocking her hips back and forth, "you can't stop now!"
"I'm not stopping" he explained, "but I don't think you've earned anything yet. I wanna hear you Beg."
"Please baby!" She begged, staring at him, her face full of lust. "Please baby, please sir, fuck me. Fuck your little slut, I want it so bad."
"Oh do you?" He asked,pulling the jumper over his head, and throwing it aside.
"Yes!" Her eyes were locked on him, watching him undo every button on his shirt agonisingly slowly.
"You think you deserve my cock?" He teased, sliding his shirt off his shoulders, revealing his slim, toned physique.
