Previously: She let her eyes roam over the words written on his body, and felt a warm sensation run through her body. This had been foreplay, and the anticipation was delicious. But hitting his chest, punching him, listening to his little gasps and moans as she injured his flesh with her hands, that was immediate gratification. And she wanted him well rested, so it would last awhile.
She loomed over him, grinning at the words on his chest. “Those are going to be there awhile. Good thing swimsuit season is over.”
He tilted his head and looked down and over his body. “Those look like the world’s worst jail-house submissive thug tattoos.”
She punched his chest in the meaty part of the pectoral and frowned with mock seriousness. “Do not insult my artistic abilities.” Then her face broke back into a grin despite her best efforts, and she punched him again.
His body spasmed, a jerking contortion running down from his chest to his legs, and he found himself grinning back. Her hand smacked back into the same spot, knuckles driving down into his body, his muscles involuntarily jerking. He rolled his shoulders and put his hands on her hips, holding her close while she punched him and his body jerked under her hands.
“Hm…” She arched an eyebrow, and rocked her head from side to side, then punched him again. His hips jerked, shoving their bodies together, and she nodded. “Get your cock hard.”
His eyes narrowed as she raised herself up on her knees. His hand slid down between them, and he started jerking himself off. She poked his shoulder with one finger, absently tracing designs in the skin with her nail while his cock hardened. He nodded and let his hand drop back to his side.
She shifted her hips and slid her cunt down his cock, then sighed. “Remember, no coming.” Her eyes were flat and hard, and he nodded and licked his lips.
He started to say something, then the words died in his throat as she punched him again. Hard. His hands clamped around her waist again as his hips spasmed and she felt his cock jerk in her cunt.
She murmured a happy sound, and started punching him in a slow, steady rhythm. She moved in time with his jerks, the feeling of control washing over her. She leaned forward and drove her fist into him harder. His body slapped against her clit this time and her eyes fluttered with pleasure.
She experimented, punching his chest slower, then faster, leaning forwards then backwards, shifting her hips, punching him harder then softer, on one side of this body then the other, slapping both hands down on his chest. His body jerked beneath her and endorphins started to flood his brain, pain and pleasure mixing.
She played his body, fucked herself with his cock and used the pain to control him. He was an imprecise, messy, unpredictable instrument and it usually took more than one try to get the right spasm from his body. She would punch him over and over trying to get him to react a certain way. Frustration and rage built up until she finally hit the right spot at the right time with the right amount of force, his hips jerked and his cock drove itself a little further inside her. The frustration and rage would explode into pleasure, and the process would start over.
His eyes were clamped shut and he ground his teeth as her hands smacked into his body, sharp spikes of pain jerking through him. He twisted and thrashed blindly until he felt her cunt spasm. His eyes would fly open then clamp back shut with the next punch, little snapshots of her riding his body filling his mind. Hair flying, her eyes half closed with pleasure, biting her lower lap and gasping, her tits jostling as she rode his pain.
She twisted her hips, feeling him inside her, and pulled his head up by his hair. She punched him again and his body smacked down into the floor sending tremors of pleasure through her. She squeezed her legs around him tightly, pulling his chest up with one hand clamped in his hair, punching his chest with the other, groaning as he fell back and his hips convulsed, twisting and driving his cock insider of her.
He clenched the muscles in his ass and focused on the pain, trying to think of anything else and not to come. She responded to his pain with her own spasms and clenching, writhing on his cock as she beat him mercilessly.
Finally, the built up pleasure and sensation exploded inside her, waves of pleasure overwhelming her. She fell forward, hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the ground while her hips bucked and she screamed. Her eyelids clamped shut, she felt him underneath her, the hot, bruised skin where she had beaten him, his cock hard inside of her. She sat there, breathing, letting the pleasure slide away, and finally opened her eyes.
“Good boy.” One hand stroked his hair, and she murmured it again. “Good boy.” She winced as her sensitive flesh slid off his cock, and scooched forward to sit on his stomach. Afterglow filled her and she licked her lips as her breathing slowed.
He groaned as she slid off his cock, the pleasure fading as his cock softened in the cool air and pain radiated in from his beaten chest.
She laughed, and ground her palm down into his shoulder, feeling the little tremors travel through his body. “Ah, you want to go again?”
He tried to figure out an answer that wouldn’t result in more pain, and she grinned at the confusion on his face. “Don’t worry, I’m still a little sensitive.” She leaned down and kissed him, and he brought his knees up, scooching her a little closer. “But I think we’ll make that a regular part of our naughty times. It was kind of awesome.”
His head came up as she leaned back, catching a second kiss as her lips retreated. “Thank you ma’am.”
Her hand traced a line down his throat to one nipple. “Oh, don’t thank me yet.” She gave the sensitive nub of flesh a violent twist, and laughed at the shock that ran across his face. “We’re only about halfway through the list. I’ve still got to do something about these nipples.”
Preview: Nipples are for being clamped. I mean, what else are men going to use them for?
Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.