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“Face down on the bed. Now.”
She gives me a look of horror. She thinks I’m going to fuck her.
“If I was going to fuck you whether you wanted it or not, I wouldn’t have waited for you to wake up.”
“Then… what are you going to do?”
“Do as you’re told.”
I don’t usually bother to tell anybody to do what they’re told. I tell them, and then I make them. But she’s so small and soft, and so scared, I give her one more chance.
Dreamy wastes it. She stares at me like a stunned deer, and I grab her, toss her down on her stomach and smack her ass. Hard.
She bolts up to her knees, both hands gripping her ass. Her eyes widen at me, her mouth open in horror.
“What was that for!?”
“You went to an outlaw bar wearing a worker uniform. That’s a good way to die.”
“I didn’t know you’d be there. I didn’t know you’d care if I was there. We haven’t seen each other in seven years, Shah! And it’s not like we are anything more than passing acquaintances. OW!”
I smack her ass again. She’s mouthy. Full of excuses. I push her back down again. I want her face down, ass up.
“I don’t give a fuck if you knew I was there or not. You shouldn’t have been there. You’re a good girl, with a good life. Or you were.” I smack her ass again. God, her ass feels good on my hand. So fucking soft.
My cock is rock hard. I like spanking her ass. She’s the sort of girl I never get to take my darkest impulses out on. I decide I’m going to have her ride me. I’ll pull those panties to the side and bury my cock deep inside her. It’s what she wants, deep down. There’re only two things that take someone to that dive I found her in: drugs or sex. Not clean, missionary, procreative sex. Dirty, filthy sex that leaves a mark.
“Shah! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She’s so desperate to try to get me to stop, wriggling back and forth, her underwear working itself into the crack of her ass, exposing more pink, innocent flesh.
“You’re sorry because I’m whipping your ass. Why did you go to that bar? Tell me honestly.”
“I don’t know!”
“What the fuck do you mean, you don’t know? You go somewhere you might get killed and you don’t know why you went?”
“Yes! I was bored!”
“Bored?”
“Yes. My life is boring. Not just not interesting. Actually boring. The kind of boring where you don’t know if you’re alive or not. So I went out to see if I was.”
“You feel alive now, little girl?” I slap her ass harder, because that answer was fucking bullshit, and she deserves a real thrashing for being that reckless.
“YES!”
Her scream does not contain the answer I expected. I thought she’d scream her regret. Instead, she’s howling an affirmation of the pain.
“Mission accomplished then,” I say, landing a hard slap on the other cheek. She’s turning red now. I want to make her sore. I want to listen to her cry. There’s a sadistic streak in me a mile wide, one that goes all the way to my core. She wanted to know if she was alive? She’ll learn the most important lesson today: life is pain.
Dreamy
He’s thrashing me so fucking hard, like he’s pissed off that I was in the bar, like it’s a personal insult to him. We don’t know each other, and I really don’t know why he’s doing this to me. I don’t know why he brought me here. And I don’t know why I’m in trouble.
He’s explained nothing, except for his displeasure at the fact I had the misfortune to be in the same bar as him at the same time as him. His palm keeps landing on my ass, and he keeps making me squeal in pain, and the more I wail the harder he spanks, growling as he does like an oversized beast enjoying my pain until finally, I break down and sob.
“Please! Shah! Please. I can’t… I can’t… I’m sorry!”
“You were in a room where half of the men in it would have passed you around banging you like a drum, and you can’t take a little whipping?”
