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TPCLUB07 spurt his seed her rectum
THE USUAL WARNINGS:
This is a work of fiction by a twisted mind. If you are
offended by graphic sexual descriptions of natural and/or
unnatural acts, or if you are underage, don't read any
further.
This is a fantasy. You have to loosen your clench on
reality a little when you read it. As is the case with
most in this newsgroup, in this all the women
are beautiful; gravity has never touched their nor
wrinkles their unblemished faces; the (the hero in this
story, at least) are hung like bulls and can get it up and
keep it up at will; there are no STDs, morals, or unwanted
pregnancies; and guilt is a four letter word. Most of all,
strength of character doesn’t stand a chance against any
erotic stimulus, which can be as benign as a glance. This
is a in which physical acts and human responses are
not limited to, nor necessarily based in, reality. Some
acts and responses in this may be physically
impossible or physiologically improbable. That being said,
stick your tongue firmly in your cheek and enjoy.
This is intended for the salacious entertainment of
consenting adults. Do not try to do any of the things
described in this story. You will injure yourself or your
partner. Or be arrested, or shot by her father....
If you are under 18 years of age, go away. This will
burn your eyeballs and fry your brain.
If material of a strong sexual nature is prohibited where
you are, go away.
By continuing, the reader accepts all responsibility for
any disgust, revulsion, jail sentences, or pleasure that
result from reading this story.
You have been warned!
If you’re going to repost this, give me credit for it. If
you’re going to charge for others to read this, give me
credit and some money, too. Fair’s fair, no?
That said, enjoy!....?
NightShade
The President's Club, Chapter 7
by NightShade
first posted 4/97, revised 12/98
Standing up suddenly, he deposited her unceremoniously on
the floor. "Stay there!" he said commanded.
Karin smiled to herself, the tingles starting already. Her
man was back to normal. Or what passed as normal for their
relationship. She didn't want him to be gentle when he
needed to be rough. That just made him confused. There
would be a lot time for gentleness - for 'normal' sex -
later, she was sure. Right now, she wanted him to be her
master, her tormentor.
Sam walked over to a pile of equipment in the back of the
room and selected several items. Coming back to where she
sat on the floor, he gave her a single hand motion. She
stood. He led her out onto the wide porch across the front
of the cabin. A twirling of his finger and she turned to
face away from him. She had tried to read his face to see
what was coming, but he had kept all expression off his
face. He had also kept his body between her eyes and the
equipment in his hand. Karin sighed and tried to relax,
but the excitement kept her dancing from foot to foot.
“Stay still, slave! I’m not going to chase you around the
room.”
She grinned to herself, teasing him with her swaying hips.
An unfamiliar ‘whoosh’ preceded an incredible stinging pain
on her buttocks. She yowled and grasped her burning ass
cheeks with both hands. Her eyes were squeezed shut,
trying to block out the pain.
Roughly, one of her wrists was grabbed and pulled away from
her soothing efforts. He fastened a thick, wide cuff
around the wrist and laced it on. It was more like a
bowling glove with a thumbhole but the thumb and palm
exposed. That hand was dropped and the other fitted with a
similar glove.
He reached behind him and pulled over one of the benches
that lined the porch. He manhandled her until she was
standing on the bench. Because of her height, her head was
close to one of the large crossbeams that held up the roof.
He stood on the chair behind her. A brief squeeze of his
arms around her reassured her. She closed her eyes as she
leaned back into him. The moment passed quickly.
He shuffled her forward until she was on the end of the
bench. He lifted her right arm up and out. He hooked a
ring on the back of the gloves to a clip on the outermost
crossbeam. She had not noticed the rings on the gloves.
Her arm was stretched out wide to the side and to the
front. Her left hand was raised and clipped, her arm
stretched out wide to the other side. Satisfied she was
secure, Sam stepped down off the low bench and retrieved
another piece of equipment. She felt him step back up
behind her.
He ran his hands up her exposed sides deliberately, feeling
each rib carefully as he advanced up and around towards the
undersides of her tits. The air she took into her lungs
went no farther down than his hands. By the time he
lightly touched the bottom of her she could barely
breathe. Her breath was coming in short gasps. He kissed
the top of each bare shoulder until she calmed down.
Reluctantly taking his hands from her chest, he pulled her
hair back, tilting her face up. Her mouth dropped open.
He gently inserted a large rubber ball into her mouth. It
was the same one he had used the night before. He had
fashioned it into a ballgag now. He pulled the ends behind
her neck and tied them tight. Her mouth was stuffed. He
could feel her groaning now that the gag was in place, but
he could hear nothing.
Sam stepped down off the bench. He walked around in front
of her, going down the two steps to the ground to do so.
Her hips were at shoulder height. He grasped her around
her waist, lifted her feet off the bench and slowly lowered
her until she was holding her weight entirely by her gloved
wrists. Her bare feet dangled several inches off the
ground and out away from the floor of the porch. If she
had been aware of it, she had a beautiful view down the
mountain towards a deep blue lake in the distance.
He walked back into the cabin, mostly to calm himself.
Something about seeing her that way excited him in a way
nothing else had. And he hadn’t even started whipping her
yet. Just the one stripe of the riding crop crossed her
perfect white hemispheres. He had to get himself under
control, or he could easily her, leave a permanent
scar. He had, in the passed, left his ‘mark’ on a special
woman or two. But it wasn’t a scar caused by a poorly
wielded whip. He picked up his pipe. He hadn’t finished
smoking it, as he had been interrupted, albeit, not rudely.
Sitting down in his chair he looped his legs over the arm
so that he was looking out the door of the cabin. He re-
lit the pipe, gazing quietly out the door as the
aromatic smoke filled the cabin and beyond, calming him.
The sight of the naked hanging from the roof of his
porch pleased him. He had dreamed of doing this, but had
never done it before. The imagery of whipping a naked
woman hanging exposed to the wide outdoors appealed to his
sense of the twisted and the absurd. It was fantasy come
to life. One of his oldest and dearest.
He knocked his pipe against his palm when it was empty to
clear the bowl. Thoughtfully he put it back in the sealed
humidor to protect it from drying out in the thin mountain
air. The moisture-tight seal closed with a ‘click’.
Karin heard him move away from her, leaving her hanging by
her wrists. She was thankful he had used the wide cuffs.
The extra width and strong lacing provided support over a
greater area and didn’t cut off the blood flow. She
wiggled her fingers occasionally, and couldn’t sense any
signs of circulatory distress. She had heard him move
away, then there was silence. For a while, the only sounds
she could hear were the sounds of her body, her heart
beating, the blood whistling through her aorta, the
gurgling of gas. Then she heard the birds calling out, but
buzzing of the millions of insects. She heard the
underbrush rustle as something slithered or crawled nearby.
The sun heated the board in the roof and they cracked with
expansion. The world of nature, when you get out away from
the city, is a noisy place.
She had smelled the smoke from his pipe as it drifted out
the cabin door. Its sweet pungent odor enveloped her mind,
giving her visions of golden forests, crisp autumn walks
hand-in-hand, cheerleaders and football games. The
invisible tendrils of smoke wove their magic in her brain,
binding her tighter to her mystery man.
The ‘click’ of the humidor in the silent mountain air
sounded like a gunshot. He was moving again! She braced
herself as best she could, but she had no idea what was
coming. Only that one stoke that still burned across her
butt.
Her arms ached now, the muscles and tendons being stretched
more than usual. She tried not to kick her feet as any
motions tormented her already stressed shoulders and arms.
She strained to hear him, to find out where he was, and
perhaps that way get an idea of what he was going to do.
Sam slipped off his loafers, then his socks. The cool
stone of the cabin floor felt good against his feet. The
bare wood on the porch itched a little as he stepped
quietly out of the cabin. He wasn’t intending to sneak up
on her. He knew that after a while, the pain would focus
the mind, much like meditation. He did not want to disturb
Karin’s focus. Just yet.
When nothing happened and no sounds were made to give away
his position, Karin’s mind wandered to the scene in front
of her. She saw the lake in the distance more clearly than
ever before. The trees were so clear; she could see each
needle, each leaf, and each branch. She saw the tiny
animals; the ones no one ever saw because they never moved
if they thought you were there. Their tiny bodies darted
back and forth, as if they needed to be in two places at
once. She wondered at the color of their fur, puzzling
that it looked so soft and...
RED!!!!
Karin shook her head. Where did that come from? She
looked back up at the pink clouds. There were tinges
to all the leaves. What was...
WHITE!!!!
Now the sunlight reflecting off the shimmering leaves left
white spots in her eyes. Karin’s dulled pain receptors
were coming back on line, but her mind was fighting it.
The colors were too pretty. She had never seen such vivid
colors before. The REDS!!! and GREENS!!!! and BLUES!!!!
filled her mind with rainbows.
On the sixth stroke, she heard the soft ‘whoosh’ just
before the supple crop caressed the bottom crease of her
ass, just above her thighs. A trickle of pain leaked
through the rainbows. It was the beginning of the dam
breaking. She struggled to hold on to the various colors,
and managed to find a couple images she could retain.
These she wrapped in her memory, holding them tight as her
lover covered her naked exposed bottom with stripe after
burning stripe.
When he could stand it no longer, he moved behind her and
thrust his steel shaft into her compliant anus. She did
not resist him, but he used no lubrication except the sweat
that dripped down her back and into her ass crack. It was
insufficient to ease his way. He forced his way into her
burning ass one centimeter at a time. He went slowly,
almost leisurely. There was no hurry now, no urgency.
There was no need to conquer, no reason to hurt. What was
important was to possess this woman completely.
When he was finally inside her to the hilt, he fucked in
and out of her clasping hole. He was not necessarily
gentle, but he did not want to tear her apart either. He
grunted into her ear when he came, filling her back passage
with his spunk. He wasn’t sure if she came or not. It
wasn’t important right then.
He pulled out with a soft ‘plok’. The acrid smell of feces
drifted up between them. He grinned, thinking that he
would always think of this moment when he took a shit from
now on. It was not an unpleasant prospect.
He retrieved the riding crop from where it lay. Karin was
back in her own world now. The ass-fuck had not her,
not like it could have. She had not found this one that
enjoyable, but she was there for his pleasure. She cried a
little when she felt him his seed in her rectum,
because now he would leave her. She didn’t fear what would
come next. She just missed him inside her.
She was not aware of the stripes rising along her back
until they reached her kidneys. She was being thoroughly
flayed as he worked his way up her back. By the time he
had reached the midpoint, he was hard again, hard enough to
take her. He methodically finished pummeling her back from
her sacrum to the shoulders.
He dropped the whip and entered her once more. This time
his prior deposit eased his entry. This time he did not
hold back. His fucking was frenzied, frantic, maniacal.
He was a madman, a throwback to earlier times. He grunted
and howled as he took his pleasure in her hanging, beaten
body. The primitive urges that overtook him would have
shamed him at any other time. They were the urges that
civilization made laws against, to prevent moral decay.
These urges he vented on her defenseless body until, once
again he released his into her with a howl that set the
hairs on her arms on end. It was the call of the wild and
she responded to it.
Karin had felt the blows coming higher on her back and had
flipped her head back and forth. Not in pain, but to clear
her long hair from her back, giving him a clear shot. She
urged him on, willed him to sate himself on her body, in
her body. She did not feel the pain anymore, not even the
aches in her arms. She could feel the thud and hear the
slap as the crop landed solidly on her back, but there was
no stinging pain. She knew in the back of her mind that
her brain had shut down to protect itself, but she wondered
why she was still conscious. Who could she ask who would
know?
When he entered her a second time, she was ready for him.
She relaxed her anus as much as she could to ease his
entry. She pushed back as much as she could with each
forward thrust of his pelvis. When he came, so did she, in
a satisfying quiet flutter of her pelvic muscles. In a
way, it was the best orgasm she had ever had. It had been
for his pleasure, and because of his pleasure. It pleased
her that he had found satisfaction in her again.
Sam stood back and looked at the figure hanging there. In
the dying light of the day, the blotches looked less
angry, the raised purple welts looked black. As he took a
moment from answering the call of the primitive urges, he
examined her back and buttocks for breaks. There were
none. She would hurt, but she would not be scarred.
In the silence, he moved up behind her. His intentions
were just to hold her, to quiet her down, then, perhaps, if
she would have him, make love to her. He had had his
fantasy. And more. He reached around her and held her
lightly, not putting too much pressure on her inflamed
back.
Karin felt him there. She knew, somehow, he was not
finished. There was more in him, more anger, darkness,
something. He needed to release it, to find his limits,
too. To relish the release of his dark side, and savor the
taste of it. She needed it, too. She felt his limp cock
up against her butt. It took every ounce of will power and
muscle control she had, but she pressed her tender ass back
against that slick smelly cock. Slowly she enticed it to a
turgid state, half hard, half soft. Feeling her efforts
paying off, she redoubled them, becoming almost frantic,
begging for more from him. He left tears on her shoulders
as he moved back from behind her.
There was no place else to attack her luscious body but in
the backs but her legs. He was not unfamiliar with
whipping lower limbs, but he was tired. He needed to be
extra careful not to hit the tendons in the backs of her
knees. He decided the best approach was to go down one,
the back up the other. So he beat her that way, using a
backhand/forehand cycle. Only the fastest moving part of
the riding crop, the tip, met her taut flesh. Deep
welts rose up in a herring bone pattern down one thigh,
across the knee, down her long calf to her heel.
His cock was hard again, much to his amazement. He had
never been able to perform like this. She incited him,
inflamed him, inflated him as no one had. He was beyond
his fantasies now. Her remaining unblemished skin drove
him on like an unfinished work of art. Meticulously he
matched the stokes on the first leg, duplicating them in
reverse order on the other. He ended with two stokes, one
to her outer thigh, the other splashing in the flow of cum,
her cum, running down her legs.
Throwing the crop out into the clearing in front of the
cabin, he took her again. Again, he took her in the ass.
This time he took her soul, her very being and made it
sing. They moved together, joined in that obscene,
depraved union until he emitted his essence into her once
more. He stayed embedded within her long after he had cum,
her compressions and spasms holding him captive. She
seemed to forever, the spastic clenching on his raw
prick seeming beg him for more. They stayed together like
that until he realized she had fallen asleep, hanging from
her wrists on the front porch. He pulled out of her still-
clasping anus, sat down on the rough-hewn floor, and
watched his lady love drift into dreamless sleep.
It had been better than any fantasy he had ever had. He
tipped his head back against the wall of the cabin, deep in
thought.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
End of chapter
I hope you enjoyed it. :)
All my published works are archived and can be read or
downloaded free at
http://www.asstr.org/pub/authors/NightShade/
Comments to: i_m_nightshade@hotmail.com