Torn Act II

(To read Torn Act 1)

Her whimpering was exquisite in its helplessness.

With her knees somewhere in the vicinity of her armpits, my rigid form braced against the hard wood of the old floor. Worn sneakers clawed the boards like a wild animal preparing to hunt, which was not a stretch of the imagination. My jeans, still on, forced my legs to work as if one through their unintentional binding of my thighs.

Using the comforter as a counter-balance against her own weight, I gripped its fleeced recesses with talon-like hands. For all intents and purposes Leigh was helpless beneath me, her hips wedged firmly on the mattress’ edge.

And I took full fucking advantage of the situation.

My cock, steel rigid with a painful pressure, slid effortless in and out of her cunt with a veracity that even surprised me. And how she whimpered, moaned, made these pitifully helpless gasps and squeals. Her feeble protests and attempts to protect any aspect of her womanhood, her decency, all mere toys for my selfish lust. And I wanted to play.

Again and again my cock slammed into her, literally and physically. For as deep as each stroke went it almost paled in comparison to the slap slap slap her splayed cunt received from my hips and balls slamming against her.

I remember starting to growl. It began softly, more a ragged breath that dried out at its apex, but it soon changed into a no qualms about it growl from some primal aspect of my genetic code.

Leigh’s sobs of surrendered lust and hinted mercy only fueled the erotic fire burning out of control into a full-fledged inferno.

Gasping for air myself, I stopped my assault with one last thrust that made her moan deeply. As I gathered precious air into my lungs I saw her twist in an attempt to stretch a cramping muscle or just get some more to breathe her self. Without even a thought I raised my left arm and forced her onto her side, still inside her. A quick lifting of my right leg allowed her left one to extend off the bed straight between mine. Bending my legs I joined her on the bed, my knees astride the mattress’ edge, my hips pressed against her bent right leg.

I had her.

If you have ever fucked side-saddle you know that, as deep as you think you either can fuck or be fucked, you were wrong. Dead wrong. The first stroke inside her felt like it went a full inch deeper. She whimpered loudly, alarmed at how much further I was now inside her. The sensation that is a cock entering a soaked pussy at a 90° angle different that it typically does is divine. The natural girth of an erection now not pushes out against vaginal walls but rather along them. It’s amazing how it feels, and also how deep you can penetrate, or be penetrated.

And penetrate I did. Leigh made this primal gasp that was part sucker punch in its eloquence at how much more I had inside her. I grinned at both the feeling and the thought, not sure which one I was enjoying more at the moment.

The air was thick with cunt and sweat, an electricity so palpable it was almost energizing in its delirium.

Positioning my hips for maximum depth I fucked her long, hard and with bad intent. Over and over our spread thighs interlocked, joined together by our shared lust.

What the fuck was going on? Where did this come from? Why was she surrendering so sadly?

And why was I totally getting off on forcing myself on and in her with such abandon…

My mind was a fog of sex and fear, of arousal, fantasies and rage. The rage!

I tore into her for a few more minutes, then just….stopped. As if I had accomplished what I intended to, whatever the fuck that was. My head was spinning, Leigh was moaning and squirming. Panting like a wet dog, I stared at Leigh’s quivering form. She was exquisite in her vulnerability. So beautiful, a dream sequence gone acid trip.

In a motion that I am positive she did for no other reason than to get some blood moving to areas that were sorely lacking in it she, with a soft moan, rolled over onto her front.

Big mistake. Big fucking mistake.

The sight of her smooth as silk ass, fresh from being made such just a few night’s previous with hot wax and rapid rips, drove me to animatistic lust. My eyes widened at the soft, plumb mounds mere feet from me, begging to be abused. I lunged at her sprawled form, shoving my arms under each of her thighs, raising and slightly spreading her ass in the process.

Leigh made that double-pitched, little girl protest sound she always makes when I do this. Because she knows what is about to happen. And, though she will swear she does not enjoy it very much, it always makes her squirm violently and squeal wildly.

So she tried to get away. I mean really tried. Not “Oh no, Scot, no! Please not that! Oh no!” bullshit play getting away. This was a full-fledged escape attempt with real effort.

After the initial surprise and shock at her fervent squirming wore off I threw myself into breaking her resolve. Spreading my arms I made her legs far more useless than they had been both in protecting her ass and her ability to use them to escape. Her cries increased, my attitude worsened. I was this close, damn it.

She left me no choice but to do what I was saving as a last resort. If she had only just allowed me I wouldn’t have to resort to such brute reasoning.

I should preface this with that I can toss around some decent iron. I’m a strong guy. So when I want to apply what I’ve earned with sweat to what I want to enjoy sexually…

I get my way.

Wrapping my arms up and around her lower back I got my hands to where they could grasp one another. Leigh got extremely frantic in that this is basically, in wrestling terms, a pin. She’s done.

With my hands securely interlocked it was easy to push her onto her knees while holding her lower back immobile. The ultimate face down, ass up, face first.

And with my tongue extended as far as I could, I claimed victory in, on, around and all over that hairless, tight, puckered prize…

Torn Act III

14 responses to “Torn Act II

    • Thank you very much! And, by my estimations, there are going to at least 3 or 4 more Acts, plus an Epilogue.

      Torn is just that. You’ll all see soon enough. Writing is helping me mend these raw edges.

      • When I finally got to the end I almost cried. It sounds corny but I was so with you on every level and understood your struggle..and what made it so amazing is that YOU did too…you had the introspection, whether it was during or after, to really CONSIDER all the subtext of what was occurring in those moments. That is rare…and what makes genuine D/s so powerful. Torn, yes, but like muscle tissue, the tearing is what makes it stronger from the inside out. That is what I am seeking..to be torn and rebuilt……it will be an immense struggle but I know what will come out of it will be the most amazing person…if I could only get to her…

        You are both amazing…really.

      • You are welcome…touching someone with words can be more powerful than touching them with, well other body parts lol. Wordsmithing is my favorite turn on……

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