Where There’s a Whip There’s a Way

She scoffed at the interruption as his finger held down the buzzer from outside. Gazing over at the clock that hung high over on the far wall, she noted with a scolding that her visitor was early.

She would be sure he would be punished for this misdemeanour.

She opened the door of her Regents Park town house and looked upon a balding, stout looking man in a cheap business suit and brief case clung to his hand as it hung nervously by his side. She held a burning cigarette leisurely between her fingers which she placed between her lips casually. She looked down upon him on the porch, holding her gaze for a moment so the street view could witness his arrival, to his obvious displeasure as she blew a plume of smoke into his red face. He pushed past her into the apartment with a haste that did little to add to her urgency.

He gripped his briefcase tightly with both hands as he shifted his weight on the spot nervously as he came to a standstill on the deep shag pile carpeted hallway.

'What's the matter, you gonna piss your knickers?' she threw at him with a glance of condescendence as she past him on the crimson carpeted hallway.

She stopped and stood before a door, turning her head to face him, fingering the key in a way that accentuated the red tips of her long fingernails. She smiled to herself as a glint of sweat built up on his head and made its escape down his high reaching forehead.

He hurriedly made his way towards the door, as he approached purposefully she inched it closed to block his way.

'Your mother never teach you any fucking manners? Not even a 'hello'?' She said to him.

He didn't grace her with an answer and pushed past and down the stairs with a familiarity that suggested he had come this way before.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and stood before a dimly lit room, illuminated only by sparsely placed candles that threw nightmarish shadow shapes on the walls as a huge, high reaching Art Deco mirror hung from the main wall, arched downwards to portray the cowardly, grotesque beings they really were.

She stepped lightly, one stair at a time with no urgency, as her full frame came slowly into view with each step. His eyes followed her ankle, stretching up the path of her slender legs, wrapped within a silky stocking that ran all the way up and over her slim sex to her suspender belt.

She slipped open her gown to reveal he luscious, full breasts, delicately nestled within a brassiere that flattered her and made him blush like the pervert he was.

'You're whore of a mother should have had the decency to let you drip from the hole between her legs, you miserable, pathetic excuse for a human.' She said out loudly, walking around him, disregarding him completely.

He turned to keep her in his line of vision as she slid past. She walked over to a leather armchair which she sat in and relaxed back. Her elbow rest on the arm of the chair, her slender wrists supported her chin almost without touching as she looked over him in silence.

He stood in the centre of the room as she waited expectantly, her gaze never breaking from the horrid sight before her. Her gaze lingered as he trembled beneath his cotton suit and as her left eyebrow raised, he took at deep, knowing breath and obeyed the command with a knowingness that made him uneasy.

His hands wrestled with his tie, then his shirt buttons as he unceremoniously threw them to the floor. Her eyes did nothing to hide her repulsion at the sight of his aged, sagging carcass; yet they bade him to continue. His hands reached down and hesitantly unzipped the zipper of his trousers and held for a momentary contemplation before they dropped to his ankles. He kicked them off without taking his shoes off first and she watched, tired at the spectacle.

She stood, rising tall as a shadow of the curves of her body loomed long across the room, cutting through the décor like a hot knife through butter.

She looked down at the floor and noting the fruit that had escaped from his briefcase, looked up at him with a grin that made his blood boil and his guts churn.

She stepped over to him in three movements and stood before him. He looked not up at her, but to the floor, his head bowed in shame. Both his hands slid down his briefs and he stepped out of them unsteady like a schoolboy who had just pissed inside of them.

His flaccid member hung pathetically between his legs, unceremoniously on display for her to witness. She looked down upon it in disgust and looked back up at him, sickened by the sight of the putrid worm that stood before her, sickened by the thought of all the diseased cunts it had ever had the misfortune to inflict his venereal disease upon.

'Pick up the apple.' She said, sternly. He did so without question, although there was hesitancy in his actions. He held it uncomfortably in his hand. She held out hers, though the invitation was not forthcoming enough for him to grasp.

'What do you want, a written invitation?' She said to him, her hand waiting as it lay open, suspended by her waist.

He placed it in the palm of her hand, her fingers toying with it as she gripped.

She held it aloft and up to her mouth. Her red lips softly seducing the red skin of the apple. She took a child sized bite into it as she looked at him, his prick rising pitifully at the sight. It sickened her, she spat out the apple from her mouth, hitting him in the face as he squirmed at the unannounced blow.

'Pick up the banana.'

He did so obediently, holding aloft a ripened yellow banana for her. She forced the apple between his teeth and he bit on it as it filled his mouth. He could breathe, only through his nose as it consumed his airways, painfully locking his jaw wide like a vice. She took the banana from him and stepped lightly around him, eyeing him up and down, a look of pure revolt on her face. His face gave the look of a man who did not like to have dangerous women stood behind him.

She kicked his ankles once each as they stumbled apart, realigning his uneasy stance. The unexpected coldness made him flinch as something touched the skin around his buttocks. It warmed to his touch marginally as it pushed lightly, slowly gaining entry into his unwilling passage which held a resistance to the unwelcome intrusion.

She held the banana steady and guided it through the downy white hair of his cheeks, parting with hesitation. She felt his muscles contract and he tried at will to relax to accommodate the guest. With a slow, guided exhale it inched painfully inside him until it was half submerged within his orifice.

Her hand left it perched undignified within him and stepped back to within his view. His body was arched forward from the hips, his shoulders quivering in discomfort that spoke out for his entire being, save for the sick look of enjoyment that hid beneath the depths of his eyes.

She stood next to him and placed her lips close enough to his ear so that he could feel her hot breath on his lobes and neck.

'You don't deserve pity, and you'll get none from me.' She whispered.

His tremble was met by a searing pain from his rectum, his squirms uncontrollable but only added to his perverse pleasure. She slapped his face condescendingly as she left him cowering.

She turned back to face him as he looked up now the pain was bearable, but only for a fleeting moment as he glanced upon the frayed whip that clung from her hand.

She raised it above her head and lashed it down upon his naked torso, snapping back from his chest as it cut it open and unleashed a spray of blood that spat out from his torn skin. She unleashed it again, cracking as it lashed his quivering, sweat and blood stained body. She hammered it vengefully through his pitiful whimpers and pleadings, only serving for her to use more force and less diligence.

His cowering prick stood excitedly as it grew enamoured amongst the violence that was inflicted upon him. The sodden banana seeped out from its skin, now blackened, bruised and split open, being torn open by the violent thrusts of his pained body.

He stood, gushing and pulsating with his enraptured rewards which seeped out through groans and asphyxiated grasps for air as he choked on the virtually whole apple that was lodged in his throat, his hot poison shooting up over his stomach and over the floor in an undignified manner that displeased her.

She dropped her weapon like a child would a toy and looked away from the vulgarity of the act, her eyes falling upon herself from the towering black mirror up high, a look of satisfaction upon her face as her devilish grin met herself gazing back at her.

He looked down at the pitiful sight before her and shot him a look that pierced him through.

'Clean it up.' She said, plainly.

He dropped to his knees immediately, the lodged banana that spilled out down the backs of his legs, moist and sticky bought tears to his eyes in a new found pain. She stood behind him and looked down over him, lifting her left stiletto and raising it to the height of his cowering behind. She positioned the end of the banana with the point of the heel and pushed forward with the weight of her full body. A groan was torn from him, ripped from darkened depths that he knew not existed.

She smiled sadistically as he cried pathetically in a heap on the floor.

'Get out.' She demanded.