Kneeling before Him...
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Tuesday, December 07, 2004
I was watching television on my own last night, which is something I rarely do. I always find television such a waste of time. I can watch the movies I want to watch when I want to watch them and have little desire to see anything else. There is just too much violence/crap/drama/sadness on the television. I can create my own mood swings without any help from it. I am good at keeping myself entertained.
So I was wasting time, watching television by myself because Mac is away. It was some awful television show that I can't be bothered remembering the name of, badly acted, poorly filmed and full of anger when I was suddenly struck with a fantasy involving the actors. The guy was standing in the bathroom yelling at his wife to 'get out and leave me alone'. I don't know why I fantasised about this guy, he wasn't cute and he wasn't nice. In fact he was a bit of a selfish asshole and treated everyone badly because he believed that life owed him something or I think that was how the thread went.
So this is what worked for me last night.
She stood in the bathroom, bent over, hands on the side of the tub, legs slightly apart as he fucked her from behind. She let her head hang down and hid herself behind the curtain of her hair. Her breasts swayed with each thrust from him and she enjoyed watching them, the nipples hard.
He pulled on the belt he had looped around her neck. It tightened as the tail he had a hold of slipped through the buckle. It was almost a collar and leash. She felt a mild panic in her stomach as it became more difficult to breathe but she brought her head up to relieve the pressure. He didn't pull any tighter for now, though she knew that he would later on.
Her back still stung with the hot welts the belt had made on her before he had slipped it on her neck. She savoured the sensation, revelling in the knowledge that she was being bad, doing things that would make her friends and family cringe. She loved knowing it was something she shouldn't do.
He fucked her with the total lack of finesse she had come to expect from him. He was nothing but a brute, little intelligence, next to no wit, just a strength that made her knees weak to think about. That was how he fucked, with strength, forcing himself inside her over and over again like she was a piece of meat. He didn't care about her. She was just one more hole to come into and she liked it like that. It was so much easier when she didn't have to care. All she had to do was what she was told. She didn't have to think. She just had to hold on to the side of the bathtub and be a cunt for him.
She heard the door open behind them but she gave it little thought. Whoever, whatever it was, it had nothing to do with her. He would deal with it when he finished fucking her. He never even broke his rhythm at the disturbance.
'You bastard! You prick.' The words were hissed by a female voice she recognised as his wife's. She turned her head to try and see and was rewarded with a sudden tightening of the belt. She almost giggled. This was bad, she knew, yet still he fucked her like they had been undisturbed.
'How could you? How could you fuck this little whore? How could you fuck her in our house?' The voice was growing hysterical in pitch. He laughed.
'I fuck her because she is a little whore. She lets me fuck her however and whenever I want. I never have to beg for her precious pussy. She is always hot and wet and tight, not at all like your dry old cunt. She never tells me don't and she never says stop. The only thing she ever wants is more.' He was thrusting into her with painful force now, almost as though punctuating each word with her pain. She grunted with each slap of his body against hers.
'You prick, stop it, just stop it,' the wife screamed. The girl smiled at the pain in her voice.
'SHUT UP.' he roared. 'JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP OR GET OUT.'
She felt the belt tighten around her neck and though she pulled her head up as far as she could he was relentless in pulling it further. She couldn't breathe. It was ok. She knew this meant he was close. Her body shuddered with the deliciousness of it all and he growled as he spilled his semen into her cunt. Her knees buckled but he held her up.
He loosened the belt and left the tail of it sitting on her back. He pulled his cock from her and wiped it over her ass before it had hardly softened. She knew he was pissed off. His orgasm had not been as intense as ones he had with her before. She waited quietly for his anger to overflow onto her. Brute strength is scary when it is angry too.
He said nothing to her but instead turned and walked towards his wife.
'You could learn a thing or two about how to treat a man from this slut,' he spat at her as he pushed past her with his shoulder.
The girl didn't dare move. She hung onto the side of the bath careful not to dislodge the belt from her back.
'GET OUT.' The wife screamed. 'GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU STUPID WHORE.'
'I can't,' the girl said calmly as his semen trickled thickly down her inner thigh. 'He didn't tell me I could move.'
She hoped the wife couldn't see the triumph in her eyes.
(I did do some creative editing of the above. This fantasy was not quite so complete when I had it last night. It was more flashes of scenes and certain words (all of which are included) that worked for me, but thought out fully, that is what it would have looked like.)
Mac would be the first to tell you that this sort of fantasy is one that would never occur in my real life and I that I wouldn't want it to. I don't have it in me to be some guy's piece of meat. I don't have it in me to be such a total bitch. I am even incapable of being nasty first. I can retaliate with nastiness but Mac insists that I do it with intelligence and wit. So fucking someone else's man is very beyond me. Doing it in front of them is just not going to happen. Being smug about it is so deep in the realm of fantasy I am surprised it made it to the surface at all. Still, sitting on the couch alone last night it was where my mind wandered while my fingers wandered somewhere else and I didn't stop until I was beyond satisfied and completely drained.
For whatever reason, last night I wanted to be that nasty and I wanted it to be without love and affection and I enjoyed it very much.
Perhaps I just needed a release.