Each one was harder than the one before. I tried to get away from him, twisting my body with each strike, but he gripped me around my middle with one hand while spanking my ass with the other.
I am sobbing into the gag, still trying to wriggle away, but his firm hold around my stomach wouldn't allow me to move. My bottom is on fire, and I am screaming my head off, but the makeshift gag stifles my desperate cries. The tears fall freely, creating a puddle on the floor. My head is turned to the side while my stalker continues to spank me.
I can see his thick legs from where I'm bent over on the floor. He still has on his jeans and tee shirt. I watch his muscular arm flex as he repeatedly thrashes my bottom.
How many times has he struck me? I lost count. My whole body is a sweaty mess as I continue yelling into the gag. My voice feels hoarse, and my throat is dry. I am having a tough time swallowing. The pain is unbearable, and he isn’t stopping. He just keeps bringing his palm down repeatedly.
He's hit me so many times my ass feels numb. I barely feel the blows anymore. I am zoning out like I did as a kid when my mother used to beat me with a belt or anything else she could get her hands on.
It is almost surreal. I feel like I am floating outside my body. I guess the endorphins in my brain are kicking in to ease the pain. Each blow pushes me forward slightly, but his grip around my middle stops my body from moving too far.
I am a fucking slobbering mess. My eyes are blurry, and I can barely see through my tears. The spanking is horrible enough, but the shame I feel is worse. I am bent over on my knees, completely naked, while this strange man spanks me like a naughty child.
The repeated whacks make my tits bounce, and I have my legs spread wide, displaying all my private parts. If that isn't humiliating, I don't know what is.
I am still looking at my captor from my side view. He removed his shirt. He isn't sweating at all. I, on the other hand, am drenched from head to toe from the brutal spanking I am being forced to endure.
The blows finally stop. I close my eyes, thankful it is over. I sob silently into the gag, not wanting to annoy him with my screams. I cautiously look back at my Dark Knight, taking in his chiseled arms.
He is huge. His stomach is ripped without an ounce of fat. Under different circumstances, I would have screwed him willingly. He is a gorgeous god. I can’t lie to myself, no matter how badly I want to kill him.
I watch him walk over to the closet. I hope he isn’t getting a whip or cane to finish what he started. If he didn’t break my skin, a whip surely will.
He grabs a small white jar. It looks like a type of ointment. Now that the spanking stopped, the fire on my ass is almost too much. The sting is intolerable. I can’t take it much longer, and I begin crying again.
I watch him walk behind me, then kneel, eye level with my entire backside. I feel two strong hands and a glob of cold cream on my burning butt. I wince and buck, feeling the pain shoot across my entire bottom.
Both of my cheeks can almost fit into one of his oversized palms. I am quiet. I have no more tears to shed, even though my ass hurts like hell.
He continues massaging the area with precision and skill. The ointment is cooling off my searing flesh. I close my eyes, reveling in how great it feels. I even welcomed his caresses on my bare bottom.
My arms are aching from being tied behind my back. He starts talking; his tone is low and gentle.
“There, I hope it feels better. I am going to untie your hands and remove the gag from your mouth. You aren’t going to give me any more trouble, are you?”
I shake my head, barely croaking out the word “no.”
I don’t even care that I am naked anymore. He spanked the modesty right out of me. He has already seen my girlie parts, and right now, I could give two shits about it.
I feel like a train hit me. My feet hurt, and my butt feels like it's bleeding. I only want him to place me in the tub, clean me up, and put me to bed.
I am exhausted and can feel the sweat all over my body. I am soaked from head to toe, and my hair is sticking to my face and shoulders. I feel so dirty and gross. Being forced to bend over naked with my legs spread while a strange man beats me raw will do it.
My body is still shaking from my traumatic experience. He unties my wrists and removesthe gag from my mouth. His eyes settle on mine. He looks at me tenderly, carefully lifting me from the floor and helping me stand upright.
My legs are shaking and almost give out. I can barely put pressure on my sore feet. I am shivering, unable to stop the tremors from permeating my whole body. I am sure I will have a tough time sitting tomorrow.
He holds me firmly, steadying me on the cold floor before picking me up and carrying me into the bathroom. Sparkling water fills the tub, awaiting my body to claim it. I must admit, I am looking forward to my bath.
I want to wash all the grime andhimfrom my body. He gently places me in the warm liquid. I wince and cry out as my burning cheeks hit the bottom of the copper vessel. It feels like I was branded with a hot iron. I try to turn on my side and rest on my hip to ease the sting, but he stops me.
“Just relax, pet. The pain will go away, I promise.”
I do as he says. I'm in no shape to argue or rebel. He grabs a bottle of water from the sink, bringing it to my lips.
“Here, drink up. I'm sure you're thirsty.”
I am dying of thirst thanks to you, asshole.
