A lazy, hot Sunday afternoon in bed. He caresses my back , absentmindedly, underneath my shirt while he scrolls through his iPhone. I sigh heavily, enjoying the feel of his fingers over my back. His hand creeps up, tickling my neck. I want more, so I sit up and take my shirt off. I lay back down, ready for him to massage me. His hand caresses once more, drifting over my back and over to my breasts. Suddenly, a switch clicks.
The next 20 min are a blur. My husband is there, but there is a look in his eyes I have never seen before. He growls like a beast. He straddles my body, pinning my arms to my sides with his legs. He slaps me.. in the face, something he rarely does. He slaps my breasts over and over again. Occasionally he leans down and grasps my breasts in his teeth and clamps down.
I look into his eyes. I force myself to and this causes him to just growl even louder. It stirs the beast even more. He continues to slap my breasts. I whimper and moan beneath him.
He pushes me over, rolling me onto my belly. He rips my panties from me. He steps off of the bed and I hear the familiar clink of the belt. Immediately I begin to whine and whimper. I know he will not be easy. I can’t tell you how many times he belts me. It’s all a haze. Each blow is stronger than the last. Later, after asking him if he held back, he tells me no he did not. The blows that sting the most, whip over my backside and the tongue of the belt bites into my hip. It feels like he’s striking the same place over and over. It’s almost unbearable and my screams turn to cries. I let it go, feeling the tears well up in my eyes and my body convulses. Ten seconds pass where I tell myself to get a grip on myself and grit and bear it, but then I tell myself, give into it. The heavy, emotional weight that had been on my shoulders all weekend, I let it come pouring out and I allowed myself the very brief cry.
The beast flips me over, back onto my back. He again holds me down, assaulting my body with more hits, slaps and bites. Until
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finally he needs to pound me. He removes his shirt, throwing it over my eyes, stuffing it into my face. He discards the rest of his clothes, throwing them aside as he presses his erection against me. I moan as he tries to force his way inside me. He shows me mercy, grabbing the bottle of lube and drizzling it down my slit, rubbing his cock head into it. My husband thrusts violently into me, breaking through the tightness and I groan loudly. He pins me darn harder, thrusting deeper and repeatedly. He takes his pleasure from my body, pulling out just in time to bathe my belly in his ejaculate.
He rolls off of me, wiping my belly with his shirt. The beast is sated, for now.
© At Longing’s End
Yea but sometimes, that’s exactly what you need. To be whipped, hurt, used for satisfaction and to sate those animalistic urges.
Well i do anyway :)
sev xx
mmmm that was just hot and glad you two had a great time.