August 21, 2013

Talk Dirty to Me

Posted in stories at 5:38 am by littlesubmissions

She pulled his hair, forcing him to raise his head and arch his back. “Describe it. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Uhhh…” His eyes rolled back in his head, and he searched for words, tried to locate the part of his mind responsible for language. “There’s a burning sensation, and it stings when you hit me.”

She brought the crop down on his ass again, the small leather square on the end slapping and bouncing off his skin. “Keep talking.”

He groaned and clenched his fists. It was easier when he didn’t have to describe it, or think about the pain. “It just… hurts.”

She hit his ass rapidly a half dozen times, six hard swats made him jump. “I’ll just have to give you something else to talk about then.” She grabbed three clothes pins and leaned over, looking between his legs. The wooden jaws opened and closed around the loose skin of his left testicle. They dangled, pulling the flesh down, and she started tapping them with the end of the crop, making them bounce and pull on the tender skin. “Talk.”

“Ug. The clothespins are pinching my balls, my ball, it feels like they’re smashing the skin together, and it hurts like…” He tried to think of words as she smacked his ass hard with the crop, then went back to poking the clothespins. “It feels like tearing and crushing all at once.”

“Good boy. And yummy.” She smiled in approval and licked her lips, listening to him describe the pain and imagining what he was feeling. “Keep talking.”

She went back to hitting him on the ass, occasionally flicking the clothespins hanging off of him, watching them bounce and listening to the wooden pegs clatter against each other, punctuating his words.

“Ugh, the crop stings, and my skin feels hot and hurts, like bee stings or bug bites, the clothespins feel like little hot jaws on me, and Ach!” He jumped and took a deep breath. “And when you hit them it feels like they’re pulling on my skin, pinching it and stretching it all at the same time, and it hurts…”

“They hurt? That’s the best you can do?” He buried his face in the floor and whimpered as she flicked the clothespins repeatedly with the crop, trying to knock them off. “We’ll keep doing this until you’ve described exactly what you’re feeling to me.”

He forced his head up and gulped air. “It feels like they’re going to tear the skin off, they just keep pulling, and sliding down my skin, and then the part they were clamped on burns even more as the blood returns.” He howled as she finally succeeded in knocking one of them off, then she turned to the second and he made himself start talking again. “It just keeps sliding down my skin, pinching a new spot, and it feels like the jaws open and close a little when you hit it.”

She experimented, hitting the very end of the clothes pin away from the jaws. “You mean here? Like this?”

He nodded and whimpered. “God, yes, it feels like…” He searched for words. “Chewing. It feels like something is actually chewing on my balls.”

“Ooooh, good boy.” She felt a sudden twitch in her cunt, and started slapping the end of the clothes pin more rapidly, imagining it taking small bites out of him, miniature teeth attacking his body and tearing the meat and muscle from his bones, turning his cock and balls into pulp. “Chewing, I like that.”

He moaned and thrashed in front of her as she used the crop to flick the clothespins off of his body. “Since you’ve been so descriptive, you can take a break for now.” She kept slapping the wooden clamps, watching his balls jerk and his hips jump, until she had driven them off. The last clothespin finally snapped off his body, falling to the floor beneath him. She leaned back and smiled, watching his body slowly stop shaking.

“Hm…” She contemplated him, naked, on his hands and knees, and smiled. “Stay. I have an idea.”

She rummaged through the desk drawer, and came back with a notebook and pen. She squatted down beside him, and placed them in front of his body. “You’re still going to describe what it feels like to me, but I want you to write it down as well.”

He flinched, but peeled the cover of the notebook back. Crossing his arms awkwardly he pulled the lid off the pen, sticking it on the end, and shifted his elbows to get into a position where he could write.

“Good boy.” She patted his head, and stood up. “First, write ‘Pet’s Pain Journal’ across the top, and we’ll get started.”

He licked his lips and looked up at her. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to write legibly while…” He swallowed hard. “Things are happening, ma’am.”

She smiled down at him, and leaned down to grab his hair again. “Oh, I’m sure you will, eventually. Because I’m willing to let you practice as much as it takes, and we won’t be moving on from one activity until you’ve described the current one to my satisfaction.”

He nodded, and clutched the pen tightly in his hand.

“We’ll start with a simple one, that you already know the answer to, but no fair starting writing before I start. I want authenticity.” She walked back around behind him, and picked up the clothespins again. “Now, I believe ‘chewing’ was the word you used. Let’s see if that still applies, of you can come up with some synonyms that really capture what you’re feeling.”

“Yes ma’am.” He clutched the pen tightly, preparing to write, mentally readying himself to force his muscles to move in the correct pattern. “And thank you ma’am.”

She smiled, and leaned over to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “You’re welcome pet. Feel free to complain about writer’s block any time.”

Preview: The votes have been cast, and Navaux will be suffering for the Republic! Viva la republic! Viva la suffering!

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

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