That Moment of Connection

"'You are just fucking amazing,'

He uttered it again and again in a voice so full of wonder that, fuck I can still hear it now,

Just behind the whisper of the belt as he brings back his hand and sends it across my body, making me jerk back as its burning kiss stings its way over my nipples and ribs.

Forcing me to cry out in shock and pain. I call him an utter cunt.

With my head thrown back, mouth open, ragged breathing I want, I need more.

I know he loves my submission, loves the way I embrace the pain and give him my body.

"M. slaps me hard. I worry about him leaving red marks but, as he leans close hevwhispers 'do you want more?'

I hang my head forward and can only nod, biting my lip.

If I was not fighting so many sensations I would have happily screamed in the Vatican that I wanted more.

Again the belt, a smack and then a gentle stroke.

They all burn and make me flinch now, a gentle kiss or a vicious twist of my nipples send me.

I want him to stop but when M. does I crave it again.

I am almost angry when the pain's never-ending build slows.

Then belt is sent whipping between my legs and finger nails rip slowly down my hard body lower and lower till he feels what a glorious, wet-cunted whore I am.

He pushes fingers inside me so easily, ramming his fingers deep, banging against my cervix.

I feel my cunt stretch open and it's so sore and yet so good.

I try to breathe, needing to accept his need to own me and to take all he gives me.

All five fingers are in me but it's his knuckles, the widest part of his hand, that I want inside.

He pushes again and as I scream I accept it.

We are now one, his hand now balled inside me, connected, one ancient seething lust.

We are both lizard brain now, both howling deep guttural animal noises, a swearword language all our own.

I start to cum and despite the fact I can't talk or see or touch him I feel so fucking close to M, so in awe, I don't know how to handle it and just want it harder.

Finally my body stops spasming, he mutters about a crushed hand and slowly withdraws.

He grabs my hair, tastes my skin. I want him to hold me, caress me, whip me, own me.

He squeezes my throat, and rubs my cunt again, using my clit.

I am totally at his mercy and I don't know if my croaks or repeated orgasm or guttural gasps of 'thank you' shock him but, just as I was beginning to move from the world of glorious all-consuming, endorphin-fuelled sensation to overriding panic he lets me rest.

He unties me and lets me down. He has to hold me as I stumble.

The piece of wood he had tied to my ankles to force my legs apart nearly caused me to fall.

Is it too soon? Do I want more?

No, he knows before me what I need.

Now it's his turn; as I fall gently to the ground he softly whispers, 'Beautiful, you need to open your mouth.'

Naked, marked, vulnerable, twisted on the floor, he pushes his hot cock so hard into my protesting yet willing mouth, past my pleasure giving tongue, I hear and feel myself gag and try to breath.

"You look so perfect, so... I don't want your hands on my cock, just your throat."

I groan as he reaches and rubs my sore clit, bruised nipples and used body.

My brain is split between trying to survive his face fucking and my driving desire to be everything to him.

He is forcing my willing head down, not caring for me, just seeking his goal harder and then he stops and I know he can't do anything as I suck and he fills my belly.

Then the world goes fuzzy.

He could not do anything sadistic now and I can't believe he ever did.

I do nothing but hold his shaking, wet body gently and I kiss him with my cum scented mouth and hold him so close and we start to giggle and laugh.

I call him a cunt again.

For all the loneliness in this world we have a connection, who knows why or what it means or where it can take us."