Evening Rage

There was nothing but pain.

“Take it,” he grunted with his effort as he slammed into her.

She had no choice. He walked in from work fevered with some vengeance, like he’d had the most awful day. She had little to regret except that she should have been more sensitive. But she was feeling bitter herself. Forgetting her place. Frustrated with her own hassles at work. He’d slammed the door, tossed his coat, nearly threw his brief case into the wall. But despite it all he was glad he was back at his own calm home where there was order and things went as planned. He had the love of his wonderful wife who fit him perfectly. He was glad his workday was over and he could vent his frustrations about corporate tyrants and deals fallen through. She would understand, she would listen, they’d have a nice meal, a quiet evening and things would be all right.

Except that’s not what happened. When she’d heard his tossing about and the ruckus he made coming in the front door it was the last thing she wanted to deal with. His bad mood? Another one this week? He normally was so easy going and collected. But something at work was wrong. Her own work was enough of a hassle. She’d had a horrible day at court and felt like she’d have this headache forever. She’d only been home forty minutes and was just beginning to feel her day’s trouble slip away. But now he was home and angry and she had to deal with that too. Wonderful. So she walked out into the foyer where she usually greeted him with a hug and maybe a drink. But today she crossed her arms across her chest and frowned at him. “Now what?” she said.

That’s all it took to make him snap. He could not believe even she was turning on him. He wouldn’t have it. A muscle worked in his jaw - the last of his control - and he pounced. In a moment he had her pinned to the wall and a hand around her throat. “The last thing I need today,” he spat at her “is lip from you!” He applied pressure on her windpipe making her gasp. She brought both of her tiny hands up to his at her throat and clawed at him in a panic. He let up a bit. “Do you think I’d kill you? You know I love you too damned much. But I have had enough of everything turning wrong. And lately, girl, even you are not up to par. Deny it?”

“No, Sir.” She agreed. He was absolutely right. He had every right to be angry. She’d slacked and lost respect all week. And he’d let her by graciously. Probably too tired with his career to assert his control over her. Hoping she’d snap out of her own mood. But it wasn’t happening. She broke the last straw. Nothing now but to atone. “I’m so sorry, Sir.”

“Too late,” he growled and then reached behind her head and pulled her hair back hard. It exposed all of her delicate neck and he sunk his teeth in deep. When she began to squirm he pressed his knee up between her thighs. Keeping her pinned to the wall as he nipped at her throat. She was wearing a light dress that flowed around her knees. He reached under her skirt to feel her panties, grabbing the band in front below her naval he pulled it up hard. Forcing the material between her tender spots. She winced at the pain and it made him chuckle. “You deserve worse,” he breathed into her ear. And then he decided to give it to her.

In a flash he hoisted her leg up to his hip making her lose her balance. She could only cling to his chest as he lifted her against the wall and tightened the space between them. She knew what was coming and knew it would be rough. She was right to be a little afraid. One foot was lifted up a few inches off the floor and the other wrapped at an odd angle around his body. Her thigh rested on his forearm and he braced his palm against the wall. With his other hand he released his slacks, freed himself and then forced her panties to the side. He entered her swiftly giving her no time to prepare. The force of his thrust raised her up another inch. She almost thought the plaster behind her would crack with his strength.

He felt her tightness, she was completely unprepared for him as he rocked into her again and again. She was gasping in pain and shock. She was so tight in fact that he was almost uncomfortable himself. His only real pleasure was coming from the knowledge that he knew he was hurting her. He felt himself slam into her cervix and the end of each of his strokes. He knew she hated it. She was panting with the effort to remain composed. He decided then to take a different track, instead of just using her, he wanted to shame her too. Make her repent. He slowed his thrusts and idly began grinding his pelvis into hers. He was deep inside her to the hilt. The pain was extreme he knew. She could barely contain his size. He was proud of that. He rarely fucked her this hard. Slowly he grinded again and again. She began making little cries of anguish.

“Take it!” he growled at her.

She was swallowing the hurt. She bit her lip trying to remain calm. Still. Then something else happened. He hit the spot. The one where all the pain faded and the pleasure began. He was rubbing her inside to the point of dizziness. She was about to cum. It was confusing suddenly. He couldn’t have intended to give her pleasure, it made no sense.

Watching her he saw the change immediately. Grinning an evil grin he taunted her with this. “Well aren’t you the little slut? Getting off on punishment are you? I might have to be harder on you in the future if this is the case.”

She was tense, fighting it, not wishing to displease him further. But he knew her body well and held still deep inside her, letting his hardness own her. “No, little whore, don’t resist me. I know you can’t.” And with that she began to shake, letting her guard down she came hard against him. He let back a bit to give her room to ride it fully. When her eyes fluttered open they caught sight of his amused stare. His eyes actually sparkled. “Yes,” he quipped, “A true whore.”

She blushed as he pulled back from her a bit more, and slowly withdrew himself. He let her legs drop and she wavered on them for a moment before he ordered, “On your knees.”

Numbly she fell to the floor and tilted her head back, getting ready for what was sure to come. He took his time wrapping locks of strawberry hair in his fingers and then jerked her head sharply back. He bore into her eyes with his own and sneered at her. “Bite me and you’ll pay.” She needn’t have been reminded. Sometimes her teeth scratched him. Last time the punishment for that was the cane. And he wasn’t even in a bad mood then. She would have to be very careful. “Now slut,” he said as he eased into her mouth. “Make it good, I deserve it.” Instantly she sucked for all her worth. Swallowing him deep and massaging with her tongue. She cursed herself in her head for hoping it wouldn’t take long, so she closed her eyes to block out her discomfort.

His pace was relaxed as he used her mouth. Once he found a rhythm he sped up making it more difficult for her. She’d have to deal with it. He was beyond catering to her comfort at this point. To go faster he tightened his hold on her hair forcing her closer to his groin. His other hand was braced against the wall, his flat palm supporting his weight as he plundered her mouth again and again. She opened her eyes and glanced up at him and felt a twinge of pride. He was caught now in the ecstasy. He let his head lull back with his own pleasure and was now panting himself. She doubled efforts and actually swallowed him deeper. The sensation shocked him and his lust forced him to slam forward into her harder. Her head hit the wall with a thud. He didn’t notice, but bent his knees a bit on either side of her head and rocked into her throat, literally riding mouth. She was trapped with him in all of her senses. She could see, hear, feel, smell and would soon even taste his lust. Then just when she was sure she’d suffocate after all, it happened. He released her hair and pressed that hand to the wall as well. He needed to lean against the wall completely or he was going to collapse. Still now and deep in her throat he let out a low sound that was a mixture of a growl and a moan. He came hot and hard against the back of her throat, forcing her to swallow what he poured into her.

Finally, exhausted his head hung down between his arms. He slowly opened his eyes and stepped back from the wall and immediately fixed his pants. He had been expecting her to crumble to the floor herself, he could see he’d made her weary. Instead she straightened up on her knees higher and began nuzzling his leg, almost like a kitten. She rubbed her cheeks and nose against the fabric of his Dockers and lightly rested her hands behind his knees. Her actions said it all, she truly was sorry. And honestly, he understood her position. She was strong 99% of the time. Occasionally she would falter and then he needed to correct. If the result was always like this, he couldn’t complain.

Affectionately he patted her head and helped her to stand. She again voiced what she now didn’t need to. “I apologize, I wasn’t thinking -”

He cut her off with a sweet kiss on her nose. “I know, angel, it’ll be fine.” Then he tenderly touched her neck where a bruise began to shine through framed by the slight telltale impressions of his teeth. It would need ice, he was concerned. “Let’s tend this, shall we?” With those words he took her hand and led her back toward the kitchen to care for her marked flesh. There’d they’d begin their evening again, this time on a more serene note.