November 20, 2010

Thursday, or Teaching Him How to Beg

Posted in stories tagged at 8:06 pm by littlesubmissions

Sorry I’m a little late on this, it took me awhile to figure out how to make it work. Sadly, I will in all likelihood not be putting up a new chapter this week, what with the holiday and all. So I hope it tides you over until I get back. Happy Holidays everybody, thanks for reading.

“You’re halfway there. I thought you’d be begging by now.”

He scraped his spoon across the bottom of a bowl of cold cereal, a thin trail of milk winding its way down his chin, shrugged. “It’s not bad yet.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. The clock ticked behind her, she needed to leave for the bus soon. The muscles in her thighs twitched.

Thoughts of him on his knees begging flickered behind her eyes. Of teaching him to use every part of his body to beg. Making him whisper and plead on his hands and knees until she was satisfied, then stuffing his mouth full and taping it shut, and telling him to beg with something else.

He dragged his hand across his chin and she saw him holding them out, palms up for the switch. A sacrifice, trembling and holding them still. Pleading for mercy with the palms of his hands while she flicked her wrist and laid another bright line of pain across his skin. Over and over until he held them just right, at the perfect angle, trembled and twitched every time she moved, jerked them back after the switch slapped into them and then guiltily held them out again. Until the cold, hot part of her wanted to see him beg with something else.

His eyes flitted up as he tipped the bowl back and poured the last of the milk into his mouth. Eyes she wanted to make widen in shock and despair as she slammed a foot into his balls. Eyes she wanted to see tear up as she twisted a clothes peg on his nipples. Eyes she wanted to see flick closed and open from the rush of relief brought about by cool air on hot skin. Eyes she wanted to see every physical sensation she could imagine reflected in, until she found the perfect one that said “I surrender,” and then hold it there. Holding it, pushing it, moving it a little further and deeper until she kicked it over the edge and could see him drowning in it. And then wrap a blindfold around his head right before she gave in and took pity on him, and make him beg with something else.

He walked to the sink, turned on the tap and swished water in the bowl. She stood up, looked at him, wondered what it would be like to see him beg with his legs. To crawl from one end of the room to the other on all fours until his knees were bruised and sore, until he picked them up and set them down as gently as he could, and still winced under the blindfold and gag. Until he collapsed, and dragged himself with his arms, letting the aching bone rest. Stopping him when he got to her, because she was hot and bored and wanted to see how else he could suffer.

How else he could beg. Holding weight in his arms, begging until they were exhausted and weak. Begging with his breath as she choked off his nostrils, wrapped her fingers around his mouth and held his jaw shut tight. Begging with his hair, sinking it into a bowl of her warm piss and holding it up, letting it run down his skin in acid, stinking lines. Begging with his ass, stretched tight around her wrist, gasping and convulsing in its unnatural stretched straight. Going through every part of him and making him scream out that it was all for her.

He scratched the center of her back on his way out the door. “See you tonight.”

She nodded around a sip of coffee and got up, went to grab her own jacket and head out the door. “See you tonight too.” She couldn’t wait.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

2 Comments »

  1. M said,

    Happy Thanksgiving to you, too!

    • littlesubmissions said,

      Thank you. 🙂


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