painfull pleasure contest entry

"Com on up to the attick" i said wthout a grin. She'd been getting ready for bed, sat there in a thong and t-shirt. "You've been pissing me off and turning me on in equal amounts all day, now come up and bare the consequence".  she looked down and glanced up as I mounted the stairs, strands of rope and a strap of canvas clutched in hand. I flicked on the pale lights and to my surprise and anticipation, after a minute she climbed up, subdued yet with a fearfull eagerness glistening in the eye. I looked her up and down and with a severe nod made her loose her garments, thong first. She'd always been more shy about her belly than her pubic mount, her bulbuous clit exposing itself to the chance of climax. Not Now.
I pulled up a barstool and, without words, made her bend over it.
Fastening her feet and hands to its' legs, I knew this was revenge. Her voluptuous and mighty buttocks that so often provided a firm handfast in the glorious ride of love we shared, were about to get their share of pain. I hated her for loving.. slap..her so much. Slap. She tried not to moan. Taking..slap.. care of her.. slap.. so long..slap. She tried not to go wet. Slap slap slap. I dropped my pants, liberating my heated crutch. Slap. for all the teasing. I hit her butt with both hands, then staccato with the doublefolded strap. Take the pain, if you like to hurt me, I'll play the game your way.
Shriecking and shrinking with every thud, her arrousal was obvious, stretching legs and arching back exposing an ever moister vulvic cavity with a glowing pearl of pleasure mocking the reddening of her punished backside.
Hard with the strap between her thighs, then all over the back and legs. She weren't laughing, yet her sobbing bordered on climax. I'd taken her away from a beating lover only to find that she mixed sex with anger like some people do heroine and cocaine, giving me a hard time and a hard on to go with it seemed to be her idea of emotional intercourse, well I'd had it.
I quickened the pace of chastisement, control beyond her self control. The only touch she'd get tonight was a slap. Don't promise head and give lip instead. Her skin was red, her nipples hard, the ropes tight, her clit exploding, my dick a machine gun. SLAP I  SLAP hate SLAP you SLAP  for  SLAP  loving  SLAP  you  SLAP  for  SLAP  loving  SLAP  me  SLAP SLAP HIT HIT HIT Right between her buttocks as her juices were shining down her legs.  I hate love you for enjoying this...
I turned round to face her, muting her sighs by plunging my meaty rod into her mouth. "How 'bout that head you promised" and grabbing her shoulderlength hair I fucked her face like a lovedoll, bitter cum welling up in my loins. tied like a beaten pig and more over loving it, she accepted my dominance and relished in submission till with a sharp eruption I unloaded. Expecting release upon mine, she looked up at my face, yet met no smile. "Part two".
I untied her from the barstool but left the ropes on wrists and ankles. she looked bewildered hot and puzzled. often times I'd witnessed her masturbating in her sleep, hours of sweet total exposure as she lay kicking the sheets rubbing and fingering, groaning  and relaxing, then unrelenting in pursuit of the next higher high, endlessly riding herself till I pulled aside her numbed out fingers to penetrate with full force and watch her awaken in astonishment, gazing like I was a dream come true. Now she'd do her riding the fingerhorse awake.
I pulled up a chair and she sat, letting me lash a rope under and over her tits, thus tying her to the back of the seat with her stiff nipples screaming for touch. Next her legs went aside the chairs', leaving her dripping groin to a voyeurs' delight. She let me position her arms and hands such that all she could do was to follow the arch 'tween her breasts and oyster. " your time to come".
With a strong impact of the cancas strap across her thighs her pearl jumped to her fingertips, " and count your orgasms out loud". I squeezed a tit in my left hand whilst pulling her hair back, lookin in my eye she knew I'd never enter her again, any climax she wanted with me had to be here and now, matching her selfinflicted pleasure to the pain I was handing her back.She squeezed her clit, rubbing her lovemouth, steeping into extacy, through submission regaining self control  ..one.. by losing ..Ahhh... two ...me... oh ..oh.. Mmmm... t.. T... three... au ai.. Slap... aghh.. ah... ammmmm.... oh.. FFFFOURRR... auch ... you bastard.. AHMMM mmhaahaking me...AAHH... come like... five...THIS... no bruises.. no pain.. no pleasure.. in finding oneself through losing each other....  six.... NO... BASTARD.... SLAP... SQUEEZE... HIT... YOU FUCK... NO AAAGGHHH... MHHHMHO YE AUCH OHOOOHHHMMMM.... AH... SEVEN.......
In a spitefull high I waited till she lost control beyond counting, still letting out the hurt while the sight of her oozing lovejuice pumped my cock to purple, knowing my next cum could never be hers, untied her hands, and left, never to see each other again.

Painfull to see our pleasures turn that way.


I quickened my pace as I rounded a few blocks and stuck my nose to the breeze rolling in across the sea in order to loose the perfume of her cum still lingering in my nostrils, my heated crutch started to guide my feet like the walking stick does to a blind man. Finding myself heading down stationways, it wasn't the road that beckoned me this time. I realized again that the best remedy to a lost love was another woman. No mad dash of a coup de foudre, shortlived exaltation like moths dancing into a lovecandles'  hot flame, but rather a friendly neutral game of intercourse. I was heading for the red light district.
Relaxedly I wandered into the quarter of hormonal freedom, where animal instincts provide the trick and the trade, predators and prey on either side of the neon lit windows, doors swinging like contracts. Unlike some, walking slightly hunged and peeking from under their eyebrows at the diversity of woman trading in all kinds of corporal pleasures and viewing them like some  pagan or tantric medusas freezing them in their step to claim their boner and their cash, I looked and smiled at the girls, enjoying their laces and lacquer, some posing up, dancing, posing on a barstool with almost always one leg up high, putting forth their boots or heels to the fetish seekers. There was one blonde twentysomething lass perched on a barstool with a leg supported against either side of her meterwide window, thus placing her obviously insattiable hunger from both mouths on display. After that I was on three legs.
Smiling in a red light district is like a code; if she doesn't smile back in the corner of the eye, she doesn't want to be there.
The hunger was mounting up in me as I pondered upon tall or tight, heavy or light, strong or feeble, my gaze met. It was her. She lighted with something other the blue, red and green neon reflection over her bodice and body. We reached the door simultaneously.
The myriad perfume of a thousand lovemakings engulfed me upon entering her parlour as did her gracious welcoming hug and kisses, a comforting way for her to smell me over for signs of utter uncleanlinesss and pat my body over in a quick scan for any consealed weaponry to be ware of. She led me by the hand to her booth in the back as another girl smilingly took the window. My vest was off by the time I reached the bed. She drew the curtain door and her shadow stood out like an aura of enticement. I lost my shoes and shirt and drew the required fee from my pocket. She'd put a fresh large towel over the bedsheet and reached round so as to put her back between me and the spot where she actually hid the money, probably a slit in the woodwork leading into a secured moneybox, all routine precaution wrapped in casual conversation on needs wishes and requirements. Next she showed me a slit that surely would work, licking her lips in classic pinup style while working her lace undies down her legs and then sliding her hands up aal the way along the insides till her vulvic triangle was daring my pants to burst.
We laughed at each other as she walked into my arms, waltzing her clit into the top button of my fly. Her left hand cupping my balls, her right hand undoing belt and buttons, she timed theexposure of my purple  pierced head to the descent of her face as she languidly squatted at my feet. She tugged at my prince albert and laughed up at me " You don't see this kind of wedding ring that often". I laughed while she asserted that no jewelry edge could damage the latex safetycatch she was about to roll down my staff, " you know they used to make those out of sheepgut before latex was around?". She laughed and pulled a face at the idea, then wholly and totally wrapped her intentions, hands, tongue and lips around that heatseeking member of a mans' anatomy thatr will stand when the body lies down.
She was expert, and if I hadn't had that previous orgasm so little time before, I would have reached within way littler time still. one middlefinger massaging the perineum right under my crazing prostrate, balls cupped in hand whilst the other encircled the base of my cock and served as a stop to her lips gliding with minimum pressure up and down my loveshaft. she gave me time, most precious of all requirements, simply by not running her tongue round the tip or snakesliddering it up and down my spine and dick at the same time.
I loved her professionalism steering her dosing of touch and emotion, creating a sense of involvement just enough to make the feelings mount freely in the moment, relaxing and invigourating us both, as we moved from standing to lying down, except for my thrusting tower that she squeezed at the base to ensure the sustaining blood wouldn't buckle to the force of gravity. I was up for her force. Still wearing her white bodice as a shield to naked surrender, she lay with one leg over me, her head lingering on my shoulder for a touch of the scene of lovers at play, then propping herself up on her elbow and eyeing me for a favourite position. I ran my right hand down her spine and gently tilted her butt while pulling up my legs. She moved on top though noticing I wasn't asking for any domination on her part, guided our sexes towards each other till my key reached into her vault. I arched and released my back and buttock muscles slightly to meet her slow sliding rhythm till with a smile she opened up to what I wanted needed more than anything; her pleasure.
She didn't go off like a bombshell or ride me like a wild stag through the storm. yet in her mildly upgrading the pace she made it last till a softness came over her face and a gentle shudder of her spine stirred the fireworks up through my slit domeheaded manhood.