“There is no more lively sensation than that of pain.
Its impressions are certain and dependable; [it] never deceives,
[Unlike] the [sexual] pleasure women perpetually feign
And almost never experience.”
--Marquis
De Sade
We are all driven by two
things--instinct and intellect.
Instinct is the demon
inside that spawns lust and hate and rage and terror. Intellect promotes love and
empathy, logic, philosophy and goodwill.
Some of both are necessary;
too much of either creates personality aberrations...which make us
uncomfortable, even fearful. To avoid this, most of us are careful to sail between
the two.
But every once in a while something
churns the wind and water of a mind creating an unnavigable chaos, a maelstrom from
which saints and demons, statesmen and despots, sadists and submissives emerge.
Buried inside these deviants are the most intense human feelings.
Mya
relaxed her throat as Chet pushed himself deeper inside. She had learned to
suppress her gag reflex in the last few months, to use her lips and tongue, to suck
him inside with the desperate urgency of a woman possessed by uncontrolled
desire. It was this mindless enthusiasm that drove him crazy.
And that
was what they both wanted; but...in a dark corner of her mind, she felt a
twinge of shame. Sucking his cock with such abandon especially tied up like
this seemed wrong somehow, not the way two people in love should behave. Were
they really in love? Or was this just an extreme act brought on by their
out-of-control hormones? She didn’t know and in truth she didn’t care; but she
did regret the shame.
“That’s
the whole point, Mya,” he had told her one night. “You are supposed to feel
ashamed. I wouldn’t want to be with a girl who felt proud to be sucking my cock
like that. I wouldn’t want a slut who felt that way as my girlfriend. I
wouldn’t want someone on my arm who felt pleasure at being roped up like a
steer.”
She wasn’t
sure about the logic of this explanation, but she desperately wanted them to
continue on as a couple.
“The thing
is,” Chet would say, “If we’re going to be a couple, you need to know your
place. If you want to be my woman you
need to show me that you’re committed. What better way to do that than by
sucking my cock...by submitting to my bondage? This is what it means to be in
love.”
Know your
place. These were the words that stuck with her. Deep inside, she felt he was
right. A woman, a real woman submitted to her man, sacrificed for him,
dedicated herself to his pleasure. Chet was the most important thing in her
life right now. She would do anything he wanted to keep him as her boyfriend.
She was an adult, 18, and this was her last year of high school. Being with him,
a star athlete, a recognized leader, was Heaven. She was the most envied girl
in town.
He pushed
himself in to the hilt and she looked up surprised. There were tears in the corners
of her eyes. She shook off the pain and began to lick his balls furiously with
her tongue, twisting her head with the passionate frenzy he loved. For Chet it
was all about commitment and power--the more power he felt over her, the more
intense his orgasm.
He groaned
in pleasure putting his hands behind her head to hold it in place. It was
frightening to be so helpless, to have her life literally in the hands of
someone so strong, someone so consumed with lust that he could strangle her
without even knowing.
Frightening
but also…exciting. She knew it was wrong, but a lot of this turned her on as
well. If...if only she didn’t feel so...used. Was he the right man for her or
was this all about brain chemicals?
Suddenly,
he pulled out leaving her drooling and breathless. She stared up at him as he
struggled to control himself, to delay his coming climax.
She knew
what came next--making her suck his cock was only the start of their
lovemaking. He would want to use her ass and her pussy now then spank her and come
in one of her holes as she begged him for mercy. This was the routine they had
evolved to in their lovemaking.
He was so
excited about the escalation in their sex life that he had found them a private
place, a room in the abandoned logging mill. This was where he had built their
“love machine.” That’s what he called it. It was just an old sawhorse that he
had covered in soft leather and fixed with five belts—two for her ankles, two
for her wrists, and one for her waist. She looked like a jockey when he had her
locked down...stripped naked. His latest innovation was the hair cord that he tied
to her waist belt to keep her head up.
“I love
you, Chet,” she whispered as she watched him struggle to suppress his too-soon
ejaculation.
Fucking
him like this was a small price to pay for her elevated status in school, for
her future. It was likely that they would get married soon, probably in the summer
after they graduated. She didn’t resent his need to master her; in fact, she
admired it…most of it. Chet took what he wanted. He didn’t care about her
feelings. She felt safe with him...a treasured possession.
She wanted
to be “his woman” in every way possible…only, only not so soon.
She wanted,
needed to get out of Mule for a while. There was a lot more to the world than
Mule, Montana and she wanted to see a little of it before settling down as his
wife. She didn’t care about college or a better job or more opportunity, all
she wanted was him and a little time to see what was outside.
His family,
especially his father wouldn’t understand that at all. Sheriff Douglas wanted
them “hitched” as soon as possible and he had said as much to her parents who
felt much the same way. They had it all worked out and Chet was happy to go
along. Her father was already planning the wedding…already worrying about the
expense of a wedding.
She hadn’t
even said yes yet. He hadn’t even proposed...not formally. That’s when she was
planning to ask for a few weeks away from Mule...as part of her acceptance. She
had it all worked out.
“I love
you, Chet,” she repeated. “But I don’t deserve someone like you. I’m an awfully
bad girl--I like sucking your cock, licking your balls, having you in my pussy,
in my ass. I really need to be spanked...hard. Would you do that for me, please?”
He loved
it when she talked dirty, when she verbally acknowledged his dominance even in
her most playful voice.
He pulled
over a stool and sat down, his face inches from hers. Sometimes he liked to
just watch her struggle in the bondage; sometime he liked to torment her, to add
to her pain. She responded to it all with a kind of sexual urgency, a feigned desperation
for him to do more so that she could experience even more forbidden pleasure.
It wasn’t all an act, but it was a vicious cycle--the more she feigned pleasure
from his pain, the more she suffered, and the more she needed to request.
True, she had
encouraged it and maybe that hadn’t been such a good idea, but Chet was smart;
he would know when to stop. He picked up the paddle he had made and began to
polish it with her sweatshirt. He liked to draw out the anticipation, to intimidate
and frighten her.
“Please,
Chet, I really deserve a good paddling tonight. I’ve been looking at other boys
in school, checking out their packages, thinking about what it would be like to
suck their cocks, to have their cocks in my ass, in my cunt. Don’t you think I
need to be punished for that?”
He looked
up and smiled then nodded. He loved this part of the game, the part where she
justified his punishment. It was all an act, but in a way it excused him, made
her responsible for her suffering, not him. She had tried to get off the
merry-go-round without throwing cold water on their passion, but it was a hard
thing to do. He was so excited about all of this...so into it. In the end, all
she could really count on was his good sense and his feelings for her. He would
never really hurt her...never. He loved her.
It was
just...lately he had been going a lot further than usual. His paddling really
hurt now. Worse, it was becoming obvious--she couldn’t sit in class without
wincing and twisting in her chair. The other girls were noticing, whispering.
They knew!
Suddenly,
inexplicably, she interrupted their play with a statement.
“I want to
take some time after graduation, Chet. Go away for a few weeks, see someplace
other than Mule, meet some people other than loggers. When I get back, my love,
I’m sure there will be lots of reasons for you to paddle my behind. Is... is that okay?”
Chet
looked up from his polishing. The look on his face told her that she had just
made a terrible mistake. She should have waited until they were in a neutral
place, a safe place...and she had some leverage.
“You ain’t
going nowhere, Mya. I think a July wedding, right after graduation, will be the
best for us. The sooner you get in a kitchen, the better.”
Mya
blinked, partly in surprise and partly in pain. The cord holding her hair back
was hurting. It was always hard to hold her head up this long.
“It’s just
for a few weeks, Chet…Master. Please don’t be like that.”
He looked
up then reached over with the paddle and gave her a viciously sharp smack on
the thigh. She screamed and arched her back as the pain traveled up her spine
to her brain. It was unbearable. He had never hit her that hard before and she
was shocked, shocked and dismayed that he was reacting this way.
“What the
fuck, Chet! That hurts, hurts bad!”
“It’s
supposed to hurt you dumb bitch. You have always wanted to be my woman, Mya, well
now you are and I’ll treat you any fucking way I want. I don’t want to hear any
more talk of you leaving. We’re getting married in July and that’s all there is
to it, you hear me?”
Mya saw
red. For all her dependence on him, for all her need to please him, she was
spirited. She couldn’t let this kind of unfairness stand. They were lovers,
passionate lovers, but he needed to understand that...”
He smacked
her again on the leg and once again she screamed from the blinding pain.
“I asked
if you heard me, bitch, and I want an answer.”
“FUCK YOU,
Chet Douglas,” she screamed, still feeling the agony of his stroke. “I’m going
and that’s all there is to it. You want to marry me then you will ask me proper.
Sex isn’t the same as love, you know. When you love someone, you…”
She never
finished the thought. He sprang to his feet and began to strike her ass hard
with the paddle. She screamed in misery, twisting and pulling on the bindings
like a demented wildcat. Her hair knot came loose leaving being a clump of
blond hair behind.