A Belt for Miss Dionne

That fucking bitch.

Tiffany sat on the couch with her face cradled in her hands. It had only been a few minutes before that she had said, "I don't think I can date someone on such a different level than me. And I can't date someone that is that much of a dick to my friends... and to me-"

"To you?"

"All we do is argue. In public, well. You're fine if it's just you, but if Josh is there all of a sudden you start seriously ripping on me, and it's just not fucking funny. Then the way you treat Sam..."

"Excuse me? Your bitch of a friend who STARTED this?"

"Bullshit. All you guys sit there and make fun of each other, but she knew when to stop, and there have been plenty of times she reminded me why I would even be attracted to you. She didn't like you, but she sure as hell stood up for you, and when she wouldn't trade insults in fun in front of Josh and you, you decided to wait until she left to try to make fun of her. You started this, James."

"Started this? You know what, fuck you. I'll show you what starting is about."

Without so much as picking up my coat, I left the house and let the door slam behind me. She could rot in there for all I cared. It wasn't my house anyways. I was boarding with my other in the Devious Duo, Joshua Prichard. The night had a calming effect on me when I left the warmth of home. It was brisk. Light pollution killed most star light, but enough of the bright ones still managed to be heard through the static.

Tiffany and I had started dating in August, three months ago. I was under the impression for about a month that it was a serious relationship, that is, until Sam broke the bad news. Her, Tiffany, and Josh were close friends; Josh and I happened to be close friends; but this Samantha an I never chanced upon friendship. Our dating went fine through August, but in September we all started school, and that's when things got tight.

Both Tiffany and I had jobs, she was staying at Sam's, I was staying at Josh's, and we both went to different schools. What made it worse was that we both worked different schedules on the weekends (mine was early, her's was late), I worked during the days and went to school at night. She went to school during the day and worked at night. Basically, we never saw each other.

Every few weeks she'd stay the night, but it wasn't the same. Then one night Sam was on the phone with Josh, and let something slip about wanting, literally, to bang me. Josh asked, "Well, wouldn't that be kind of a hard thing to accomplish?"

"Not once Tiffany lets him go."

"Lets him go?"

"She had me under the impression that this wasn't that serious, and I could have him to play with once she was done."

The conversation went on, Josh starting to grill Sam until she was exasperated and hung up. Tiffany had told her that her and I were nothing and that she was in love with her last ex. Unfortunately, Tiffany neglected to mention that fact to me. She ended up coming over, probably at the notice of her friend, and somehow, everything was smoothed over. Except, I never quite forgot that last part of Sam's words... that she wanted to "play" with me when Tiff was through.

Dynamics changed within the group. Tiffany and her girl were together more often, and when her friend and I came together, I didn't seem to be able to control myself. I was attracted to my girlfriend more, Tiffany was a skinny little thing with round hips (and I like skinny girls) with long straight hair and green eyes, but Sam. Well damn.

Sam had long, reddish brown hair that barely curled at the ends near her ass. Her tits were about the size of my head, and her ass was absolutely luscious. She was not for the faint of heart, however. Approximately (she had been sewing in front of me one day while I was over serenading Tiffany) she had measured in at a 44, 34, 44. Like I said, not for the faint of heart.

Whenever I was near her I wanted to touch her, grab a handful of her hair, run my hand down her face...I never had the chance though. She was like a dirty little secret. After that conversation of her's ended, she never looked at me the same, and usually bit her tongue to stop from saying something. It made me more angry that she held these things in. Unfortunately for her, I didn't have her stoicism, and may not have held everything in that she could so easily.

Though I was admittedly a complete dick to her, I could never say anything seriously offensive in her presence. It took me three hours after she left the group one day before I could manage an insult. That she "waddled". Well, I found out a few days later that she didn't find that funny and she had an extreme complex about her weight and appearance. She found it less funny that I had dared to insult her while she wasn't present.

Thus began the war, and she had finally won. She had Tiffany convinced that I was a loser, an idiot, a nobody going nowhere. My girl was convinced that I wasn't good for her, and she still admitted she only loved her ex. Three months with me, and a year since she had dated that bastard. But she still loved her last boyfriend.

What the fuck ever.

Samantha might not know it now, but she was going to be served. The battle for Tiffany was done, but the struggle of dominance still lived on. I parked the street over and walked. Stepping up to the stoop, I politely knocked on the front door. A few minutes went by and I knocked again, pounding on the metal. With a creak, it opened a few inches, held in place by a chain lock. One dark eye peered at me, her rosy lips curling in pleasure. "May I speak with you, Samantha?"

"Of course."

We stood there for another minute. "Inside?" I impatiently started.

She would pay for every fucking second of this.

Hesitating for a moment, she at last closed the door and I heard the chain lock slid out of place. Opening the door to me, I stepped past the threshold and took in her figure. Her hair tendrilled down a brown dress that came to her calves. It was in the oriental style, brown trimmed tan.

"Please, have a seat."

Motioning toward a chair, I took the seat closest to the door. Turning she asked, "Would you like something to drink? All I have is orange juice, water, and coke."

"May I have a coke?"

She nodded and left the room. Quickly, I closed the door and locked the deadbolt. In a few seconds she walked back into the room and handed me the drink. I put it on the table, and as she leaned up, she noticed the door. With one smooth motion, I grabbed her and threw her to the carpet face first. She tried to right herself, her elbow connecting with my jaw; but I didn't let her go. I tightly straddled her back, with her hands pinned beneath my legs and her body.

"I want to make sure you realize how much you have annoyed me for the past few months, Miss Dionne."

My hands fumbled with my belt buckle. Relishing in this, I slid the belt from the loops and doubled the length in my hands. The feel of leather, and the thoughts of what I was going to do sent jolts down my spine. I felt my dick harden as blood drained my body. Little knots, I remembered, ran completely down the front of her dress. Praise the Chinese.

During this entire thought process, she was screaming about something, but I had tuned her out. I raised off of her just enough to flip her over. Of course, I was still making sure her hands were behind her back rather than next to my anatomy. Her eyes leveled murder on me, lips pursed and jaw clenched. Leaning down, I mockingly gave her a peck on her lips. She kept them severely locked.

Instead, I kissed her neck, unbuttoning her dress all the while. I put one hand over her neck as I pulled her right arm out. If she became too unruly, I would have to clamp it down, though I doubted she would do too bad. I scraped the fabric of her dress across her skin as I tried to unrobe her. Her eyes closed rather than betray anything, her fear, her anger. One arm was free, no bra straps as well. I placed her arm back beneath her and proceeded with the next arm. When that was freed, I flipped her back over and picked up the belt I had deposited next to my knee.

Pulling the belt through the buckle, I made a loop just big enough for her hands to go through. I grabbed one hand and when she felt the leather, her other arm shot out and she tried to crawl away. Taking hold of one shoulder allowed me to grab her arm and twist it around. When it was safely next to its twin wrist, I made the loop just tight enough to keep her bound and was glad that my belt was one that didn't use bored holes rather than twined leather.

Sam made a pretty picture bound up. Even prettier when I pulled her up to her knees. Her breasts hung heavily in front of her while her hair was slung around one shoulder. She hadn't worn a bra, but her panties were still on. Cautiously, since her legs were still free, I discarded of her underwear and dress. I ran my hand over her smooth skin a few times. Over her neck, her shoulderblades, her full breasts. I flipped her slight curls back into place and lived my dream of grabbing a handful of tresses. With it, I pulled her head back gently.

My tented pants rested against the soft curve of her ass. Every wriggle was well noted. With my free hand, I unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. My cock sprang out from the opening in my boxers. I positioned my cock firmly at the entrance to her cunt, and made sure she felt me tense. Squirming away, I pulled the belt tightly and her body was jerked back. With the end of the belt, I slapped her ass hard and heard her softly cry out. Placing one hand on her hip, and another reigning her by belt, I slammed into her.

She gasped, and she was so tight and wet, I almost came right there. "Wet for Daddy, ay?"

Her walls clung and gripped my cock like heaven when I pulled out. "Yeah, you are. You don't like playing with me any more, do you? God, I think I might like fucking you like the bitch you are."

I pushed in again, softly, listening to her sigh. As I stayed submerged, I enjoyed her pulsing, narrow sleeve. With a quick snap, I laid the long leash of the belt across her ass again. And again. And again. Her cries were not painful sounding, just as if she was shocked everytime the leather made contact. Finally, her ass was a pleasant shade of pink. Happy with part of her punishment, I pulled out.

Using the belt as leverage, I began to piston in and out of her. The sound of my loins slapping against her core echoed in the room. I had an average sized cock, but because she was so tight, I hit her cervix over and over, listening to her inadvertently cry out. Spooning over her body, I let my hand catch her by the neck as she threw her head back. My lips caught her under the ear, and I could feel her shallow breaths.

Running my palm down her body, I cradled her mound. The combination of nibbling her neck and rubbing up and down her slit was electric. With a start, she keened, boiling hot come rolling over my cock. Her pussy gripped my dick like a vise, and began to milk it. Her neck was salty sweet, her arms pressed into my abdomen, and I couldn't help but groan pushing in one last time to her spasming pussy before coming.

For a few minutes we laid there, and then I got back to my knees and hauled her to hers, making her shriek. "Get the goddamn belt OFF me, James!" My hand snaked out and pulled her head back by a fistful of hair, her whimper made my deflated cock jump. "I'm not done with you yet, ma'am. You have a lot to work off."

There was an audible sob and a crack in her voice. "What did I do?"

"I'm a nobody, right?"

She was silent, and I sat back on my haunches. A cruel smirk was on my lips when I grabbed her wrists and hoisted her back into my body. I never realized how much I liked submissive women. Maybe I just liked Samantha submissive.There was a knot forming in the bottom of my stomach now that the realization began to hit me. If I was going to go down for rape, I was going to make sure I got my money's worth with as little evidence as possible. "Come on, honey, we're gonna get you cleaned up a little."

I stood up, keeping her body clasped to mine. "Lead me to the bathroom, Samantha."

My eyes were drawn to her swaying hips as she-

Ripping from my grasp, she slid into the bathroom and armed the door closed. I leapt forward, pushing at the door, but I felt her body slam into the frame, and the lock clicked from inside. The bitch had to have locked it from behind, her fucking hands were bound! I stormed into the kitchen and grabbed the screwdriver. I would take the damn door off the hinges.

If there was one thing I was going to make sure didn't happen, it was her getting away. I had to admit, that was the best lay I'd ever wrenched from a bitch. As I worked on the screws, only six per the two hinges, I heard grunting from inside the room. When I got to the last two, I heard a shriek. A good one. There was clambering. I had no doubt that she would climb out her bathroom window buck naked and run.

The second to last screw fell, and I slammed into the door. Fuck property damages. It splintered, and a large chunk stabbed into my tricep. Striding through the room, I grabbed her towel clad frame from halfway out the window. She had a strong grip on the ledge, and started to scream bloody murder. Grabbing her by her hair, I violently brought her back into the room, and slammed the window shut with the other hand. For a few moments I waited.

Maybe for a light to come on in a window, a front door to slam, who knows? Nothing came, and I sneered staring at her. A tiny bruise was forming on her chin, and a scrape just next to her eye. From deep within, an apologetic pang hit looking at the drop of blood running down her face. It wasn't enough to make me stop, though. Reaching for her towel, I ripped it from her. "Sorry, dear. It seems like it's just me and you."

As she faced me, tears streamed down her cheeks. "Damn you," her palm barely hit me with the strength I knew she had. I held her head to my chest for a second, and let her cry. "It's okay, I don't want to hurt you, Sam."

Tickling my pectoral, she noted, "Just rape and demean me."

Right where the pang originated from I felt the nervous knot in my stomach pull tighter. I let my arms encircle her for a few minutes. My mind was resolute however. "You broke me and my girlfriend up, Sam. You had intent. You wanted to use me. And now that someone is using you, you have the audacity to be hypocritical. I've already went too far, there is very little I can do to make this any worse than it already is."

I rebound her in my belt, and connected it to the robe bracket by the vanity. Her cheeks were red, her eyes weren't puffy, but you could tell she had been crying. Standing almost four feet away from her, outside the tub, I pulled my shirt over my head. I toed my shoes off, and lowered my pants and boxers. For the briefest of moments, I saw a glazed look pass over her eyes. She wasn't as much of a fucking victim as she claimed. Pulling my socks off, I took the towel on the floor and licked it to get it wet enough to wipe the blood off her face.

My fingers were clammy as I reached up to unclasp the belt buckle. Samantha twitched as she realized what I was doing, but in order to keep her from moving, I made her face the wall and reached around to put my arm against her throat and pressed closely behind her. "It's nothing personal, gorgeous, but if you try to run again, I'm going to fucking choke you. Don't make this any worse."

My cock was steeled for her, the thought of what I wanted to do to her and her smooth figure were not exactly relaxing me. Finally, the belt slipped away from her wrists, and her arms hung limp at her sides. She didn't try to flee. I pulled the belt up, and looped it around her neck. Her pure, sweet neck. Making sure that the belt was taut and clipped correctly, I kissed every inch from her shoulders to the nape of her neck. Why not? I wouldn't be seeing this part of her body for awhile.

Turning her around and pushing her down, I forcefully kept her at eye level with my cock. This new "collar" of hers was nice. "Open up, Sam."

"Please don't do-" I shoved my dick in while she was trying to pronounce the vowel.

"Thank you."

The back of her throat clenched as she gagged. Again, it was fortunate for her I was average. Even at my size, it had been impossible for a bitch to actually give me a decent blowjob, and none were willing to deep throat. They expected a little licking and sucking to go a long way. Unintentionally, Samantha was paying for every one of her sins and every other woman's that had ever wronged me.

I had one hand firmly holding her leash, and another fistful of her hair, ramming my cock down her throat over and over. "Suck me, whore! Swallow me," as I pulled out, Samantha applied that desperately needed suction. Throwing my head back, I thrust between her pretty little lips.

With her ministrations now, you'd never know this situation's dirty start. Her tongue curled, her lips clamped down, and she gagged deliciously everytime I hit the back of her throat. Powerful shocks were racing through my spine, and hot throbs were growing and becoming closer and closer until-

I pulled out of her mouth before I blew my load. She stared at my purple headed cock cross-eyed for a moment, before glaring hatefully at me. "Well, upsy-daisy," I pulled her to her feet. We still had to get her cleaned up, and I planned on fucking her one more time to complete this. I wanted to watch her come this time, I wanted to see her enjoy what I did to her.

Re-attaching her to the robe bracket, I walked back over to the shower and tub, and felt her passive-aggressive eyes bore into me from behind. Languidly, I turned the nobs on the water. When I found a pleasantly warm temperature, I turned the shower on and pulled the curtain closed. Unbinding the belt from the rack once more, I led her over, into the tub with me.

Water rushed over us, cascading over the beautiful curves of her body. I made sure to put her closer to the showerhead, and watched what little left of the coagulated drops of blood on the side of her face began to fade away. I stared into her eyes, for how long, I'm not sure. It seemed like millenia before I leaned down to barely press my lips against hers. Moving back, I felt her breath quicken on my wet skin. My palm cupped the side of her face, before I let it slip down, fingers trailing.

This time, it was all going to be Samantha. I unfastened her bonds and threw the belt from the shower. Her eyes looked up into mine, my hands both resting on her round hips. Each of her hands massaged her once-bound neck, her lips quivering. She may be somewhat unwilling, but she was still hot for this.

Somehow I managed to overwhelm her frame to the bottom of the tub. Opening her thighs, I saw her beautiful glistening core. Despite the fact that she was the largest woman I had fucked, she undoubtedly had the tightest pussy. Even Tiffany, who had the figure of a 12-year old boy, had a looser cunt. Maybe I usually picked out secondhand whores. My mouth instantly watered when I gazed at her hard peach nipples. Her tits were a starving man's buffet. I was not normally so attracted to what I had before called glorified fat sacks, but, to my credit, I had never seen Samantha's.

Her breasts heaved while warm water rolled off our bodies. Grabbing each with one hand, I noticed how soft and firm they were. They jiggled as I adjusted my position, and the way they rolled under my palms had her breath growing shorter and my swollen cock jumping. I had to know how they tasted.

At last, I had Samantha betray herself. Moaning and bucking her hips as my lips sucked in her perfect nipple. My hand caressed and kneaded the other as I feasted myself. Switching tits, she gasped, closing her eyes and babbling something unintelligible. Then kissing her passionately, I let my fingers glide back and forth over her slit, dipping deeper and deeper into her vise. "More."