The Brutal Sexy Beating


Read  Part 1 The Meeting and Part 2 The eating if you want more context otherwise read on!


“I think it’s time I took you upstairs to introduce you to my impact toys.”

H said. I nodded with great enthusiasm until they gripped my hair and maneuvered me towards the stairs. They walked behind me, lifting my dress and spanking my arse making me yelp. When we reached the landing they led me into their room, still holding onto my hair, pushing me to the middle of the room and turning me to face a particular wall.

“Look at yourself.” They growled in my ear. I looked into the mirror opposite me, my heart thudding and slightly sinking. I have a complex relationship with mirrors (as I’ve written about before in The Truth in the Mirror) or more accurately, my image in mirrors.

At first all I could see was my double chin and other little niggly things that I saw and thought badly of. I closed my eyes for a split second. Grounded myself in their arms around me, their body behind me, their kisses on my exposed neck and shoulder. I stopped looking for the imperfections and drank in the beauties of the scene. They ripped away my dress, then pulled off my bra, all the time, their free hand was in my hair or round my throat, keeping the vibration of lust there in the act of removing my clothes to leave me completely naked in front of them for the first time.

The next time I really looked at our image in the mirror I concentrated on their beautiful face peering over my shoulder, the lust in their eyes, the determined line to their amazingly soft lips, the fall of their hair sweeping down onto my skin.

And my perception changed, then. I saw the vulnerability in my neck, my head pulled back, their hand fisted in my hair where I couldn’t see it but could certainly feel it.  I saw the anticipatory fear in my eyes, the wonder at what was to come, the delight of the moment. I saw the heaving of my bite marked breasts, naked and heavy and aching for their touch.

What I saw as weakness and fault became beauty and love as I basked in their gaze, in their Dominant touch.

I watched as they bent to pick up rope, bending with them as their hand was still firmly anchored in my hair. Intently observed them tying the rope into my hair, anticipating where it would go next. I felt the rope curl around my waist, down the crack of my arse and then through my legs and back up…they pulled it tight, altering it ‘til it dug every so pleasantly painfully into my red, engorged cunt. I whimpered.

My head was pulled back and it hurt, in my shoulders and my neck and I was starting to feel the flutters of panic when H finished off their tie and said:

“The wonderful thing with this tie is when you move your head forward, “and they guided my head forward, relieving the pressure in my neck but driving the rope deeper into my cunt. I squealed.

They smiled, so sadistically and my heart melted. The kindness of a sadist is my weakness. They never stopped touching me, even when they were pulling a flogger from their bag. I didn’t think much of it at the time but afterwards, when remembering, I appreciated that constant contact. That unmoving connection that kept me in the moment and didn’t let me linger on my insecurities.

it was only as the falls swished, that their touch changed from their body to their energy through the flogger.

I tend to find most floggers gentle and soothing. I was lulled by H ’s for a while ‘til they realised and put some power behind the strikes to make me squeal and groan. They stopped, grabbed me and pushed me down onto their bed. I fell with my hands straight out in front of me, feet on the floor, knees on the edge of the bed. It was strange, the rope dictated how I moved and somehow I felt more controlled because of that, than if I had been completely free.

I honestly can’t remember the order of the hitty things. I know they used their hands. Oh, their amazing hands. Spanking me, punching me, the punches wrapped with chain (another thing we’d discussed, that I wanted) driving me deeper into surrender.

At some point I asked if I could lean forward, my wrists were aching. I probably could have just done it but I felt I had to seek permission, I was so within their control I couldn’t contemplate moving without their direction.

H has some amazing impact toys. I didn’t know precisely what they were until they showed me after. A thumpy, hard, ungiving impact turned out to be a beautiful metal meat tenderiser (I was thoroughly tenderised) and after the thud I was introduced to another flogger.

Stingy, harsh and fucking amazing. It made me squeal and squeak, moan and yelp, I shifted my weight onto my knees so I could lift my feet and circle them to process the delicious pain from the hard, harsh strikes.

The only moment, in the whole of the scene, where I remember them not touching me at all was when all I could hear was them moving things around and I was pulled taut with anticipation. I heard an unwrapping wire, a clunk of a plug being pressed into a socket and I guessed what was coming next. Something else they had told me they wanted to do.

Then the familiar strum of the Doxy filled the air and I moaned before it even touched me. Then it was pushed between my thighs and held tight to my cunt as they pressed their body against my butt. I was overwhelmed by the vibration until my legs gave way and I fell flat onto the mattress, H on top of me. Their weight pressing the Doxy deeper, the vibrations travelling through the rope and round me, the vibrations rolling me closer and closer to orgasm. It was their teeth in my neck that pushed me over the first time. I was a rolling mess of constant orgasm. Whimpering, overwhelmed, consumed. Aware of nothing more than the rumbling at my cunt and the presence of H all around me.

They switched it off eventually…after torturing me with orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. They untied me, fingered me, bit at my thigh. Not just a little nibble, a hard, digging bite that continued on and on and on, making me come so hard I thought I was going to burst apart.

They ate my cunt. I was so wet, I could hear them slurping at my juices and I blushed, ridiculous as that was. They moved up my body and held me down, fingers still inside me. They kissed me. Biting my lips, forcing their tongue into my mouth, consuming me. Spitting on me, growling at me, each action making my cunt contract around their fingers inside me.  I was theirs. Completely and utterly at the mercy of their want.

H clamped their teeth into my neck. My neck that was already tender and bruised from earlier bites. I bucked and cried as they sucked and bit all the harder and I continued to come, a great rolling wave of orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

I was relieved when they moved to lay beside me. They took their fingers from inside me and trailed them up my body. I looked up into their eyes and smiled, completely blissed out. They looked so hot then, the lust virtually dripping through their gaze. The beast, triumphant over their conquered prey.

I remember grabbing at their hand, holding it, needing that soft, gentle, loving connection. My heartbeat slowed, I lulled…but not for long. There were kisses, more spitting (fuck, that’s hot) and mocking use of my pressure points again.

“Oops, my finger slipped.” They said.

“I’m so clumsy,” they sighed, dramatically. Their fingers digging into my arms, my shoulders, between my fingers, my ears, the bottom of my mouth…the goddamn middle of my breastbone where it takes away my breath and my capacity of thought.  On my thighs.

“Close your legs, you filthy slut.” They growled, I blushed immediately in reaction, as they pressed on the side of my thigh, making me fold to the side.  “Actually, I prefer them spread.” They prod the tender inner flesh and I spread for them once more. I can’t believe how much pain they can bring me with just one finger.

“There’s one thing,” They said, as I lay panting, my body against theirs. “that we haven’t done in your degrading so far.”

“mmmm?” the raising intonation of the only noise I felt confident to make indicated the question.

“I want to take you into the shower, make you kneel and piss all over you.”

I looked into their face. Their eyes burned with desire.

We had spoken about it. To snuggle and cuddle and fuck until I was covered in every feasible bodily fluid.

“Yes?” They asked the question.

“Yes,” I nodded. Least I think I said yes, I made some kind of affirmative noise anyway to go with the nod.

So they bungled me off the bed, marched me through to the bathroom and told me to kneel. I felt dizzy and disorientated.

“One second.” I gasped. I needed a moment to centre. They hugged me to them and gave me what I needed. They kissed me and as my strength returned I kissed down their body, their shoulder, their chest, gentle, light, lingering butterfly kisses that curled across their stomach, to their arm, I kissed lower, over their hand.  At this point I finally knelt properly. And I came across to their cock, held in their hand. Their hard, erect cock.

“You got me too turned on.” They said with a wry chuckle.

“Sorry,” I cooed, looking up their body, eyes wide. They smiled, grabbed my hair with their other hand and pressed my head onto their cock. I took it deep into my mouth this time, no kissing introductions, just desperate, eager sucking. They moved both their hands into my hair, cupping my head and guiding me with a gentle pressure up and down their dick. I eagerly gulped and sucked, moaned and slobbered wanting to give them pleasure, so eager to please.

They pulled me back. I sat watching. Alternating between looking up to their beautiful face, eyes open or tightly closed and watching their hand on their dick. They’d pause now and then and I’d lap out my tongue to brush over the tip of them, to taste them. It was so hot when I looked up into their eyes as my tongue lapped at their wet tip and I saw the pleasure of my action spark in their gaze.

They pulled me onto their cock as they came and I eagerly sucked down their cum, savouring their taste and the way they pumped and jerked in my mouth. I smiled up at them then.

They helped me up. “Wanna go snuggle in bed?” They asked. I didn’t say no. I didn’t want to.

H is wonderful at pain, degradation and control but they’re also super amazing at snuggles. We lay together, cuddled tightly, chatting about this, that and the other. I can’t tell you what, as I’m not going to give away the material for their next comedy set. Heh.  However, funny is very sexy.

And I did tell them they had lovely hands.

“Lovely how?” H stretched up a hand.

“Well they’re so big, and the palm is so wide,” I trailed my fingers around their hand as I spoke, “which is in perfect proportion to your lovely long fingers.”

“I think you just like the way they finger you.” They said, so matter of factly I blushed. Again.

I was so comfortable, there. Snuggled, stroking each other, kissing gently against skin. It wasn’t planned, but we napped. They fell asleep, their forehead against mine, my hand cradling their cheek, their arm and leg thrown over me.

I couldn’t stop smiling. That moment there meant as much to me as the debauchery before. They trusted me so much, were so comfortable with me that they fell asleep in my embrace. My heart melted with love right then and there.

When we woke, after our impromptu naps, they used me again. Oh, it’s a hard life. Fingering me until I was weak, spitting on me…marking me theirs.  Though I was so shaky, I moved up to rest my forehead on theirs…and a trail of spit ended up stretching between us. Made us both laugh. Sexy times can be funny times too.

As we lay, panting together they looked at me with that sadistic smile that just strikes pure, arousing fear in my heart.

“I’ve noticed you respond very well to my growling.” They said, leaning over me.

“It scares me rigid.” I gasped

They rolled between my thighs, holding me down and growled in my ear, reaching down to my cunt and feeling it contract and get wetter my visceral response to the audible proof of their power and control over me.

“I’ll definitely not use this knowledge to my advantage at all ever.” That light-hearted mocking tone that I love to hate employed skillfully, “I wouldn’t use it in a vanilla setting. Lean in to kiss you then growl in your ear.”

They growled, grasping my cunt again, making me vibrate against their hand. Again.

“Knowing it makes you so hot and wet.”

I blushed, of course I did.

And I know They’ll do it too.

I can’t wait.

H’s bruises make me unable to see anything but beauty in me

Victoria Blisse

Victoria Blisse is known as the Queen of Smut, Reverend to the kinky and is the Writer in Residence at Cocktails and Fuck Tales. She’s also an angel. Ask anyone. Mancunian Odd Duck, her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories along with her own particular brand of humour and romance that bring laughs and warm fuzzies in equal measure. Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

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