Hurt Me, I Want You To


I sat quietly in my in my living room, trying to steady my nervous excitement. Standing fom the brown leather armchair, I walked to the small hallway that leads from the front directoy in to the living room. I fussed with my short black hair more to fidget with it then anything else, having just had my normal clipper cut. My dark brown eyes stared back at me, watching me on their own accord as if it were another man all together.

The man in the mirror smoothed down his maroon wicking sports shirt and made sure the pockets of his grey running shorts were tucked in, wanting to look presentable even in simple workout attire. His face finally matched my emotions when a diminutive knock came at the front door just feet away. I closed my eyes and took a deep and cleansing breath, turn towards the door and opened it slowly. There she was, the blonde woman who’s voice I craved like an opiate. She wore her hair up in a tight pony tail, and stood dressed in a tight pink hoodie and black yoga pants with running shoes. Over her shoulder hung a grey and pink gym bag with a change of clothes.

She smiled, not looking anywhere near as nervous as I was, and opened her mouth to speak to me in person for the first time. What would she say? I wondered to myself. Would it be a command? A question? Perhaps she would just say hello like people do.

“Breathe.” she said in that voice. That voice that held anything she decided to have it carry that day. Dominance, submissiveness, sex, lust, anger, sadness, intimacy, it was all there at her beck and call.

I released my breath, having not realized I was even holding it. I laughed once and shook my head quickly to clear it.

“Samantha, hi.” I said. “Please, come in.” I turned to my side to her come in past me. She crossed over the threshold intentionally close to me, the scent of her light perfume spiraling off her wafted up to my nose and sending a light shudder down my spine.

“Thank you August.” she said walking in to the living room and setting her gym bag down by the armchair.

She looked around at the small 2 bedroom house where I lived alone, and had a look of admiration and maybe a little surprise on her face. “Nice place, very…”

“Tidy?” I asked with a goofy smile.

Her laugh was magical, something I hadn’t heard before and was instantly intoxicated by. “Yes. I didn’t want to say that though.” she admitted.

Samantha walked towards the small room that served as my office and peered in. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head, clearly not what she was looking for.

“It’s that way.” I said pointing to the opposite side of the living room where the master bedroom was. “Can I get you anything before we head in?”

She shook her head and narrowed her eyes, the look telling me that she came here for a reason, and having a drink in the living room wasn’t it. Picking her gym bag back up, she slung it over her shoulder and walked in to the doorway of my room. She turned her head back and asked, “You coming?” In truth, it didn’t sound like a question.

“After you.” I said. I was surprised at how steady my voice suddenly was.

My eyes fell instantly to her ass as she started in. Yoga pants. I thought to myself. I could tell that the room caught her off guard by the way she walked in, stopped for a moment, then continued on. The floor plan in my house was tailored so that the master bedroom was a majority of the building, being close to the size of a full one bedroom apartment with a tall vaulted ceiling. There was a long mirror against the wall to the left as you walk in, and along that same wall dumbbells of varying weights. This was clearly the room someone who enjoys their workouts. I became aware of the fact that the bedroom was half gym and felt compelled to explain myself.

“CrossFit.” I said. “It’s kind of a cult I know, but, I enjoy it. Lots of work that’s hard on the body.”

She turned, that look still on her face, “Show me where it is.”

I swallowed hard and pointed towards the bed. She followed my finger to the exact spot I was pointing at where stood a very simple chin up bar, big enough for just one person. It was a metal frame that I had custom made and was bolted in to the floor. I had asked Samantha for something very specific and while she was very agreeable on the phone, there was a part of me that worried if she might change her mind when actually came to preforming the bebek escort task.

She dropped her bag again and walked to the bar, running her small hands up and down the cold metal. She beckoned me over with a finger and I obeyed. I took a deep breath when she placed the palm of her hands against my chest, sliding them down to my stomach and then back up again. Without thinking I took hold of her hips and pulled them against mine. She kissed me suddenly, deeply, her tongue entered my mouth flooding my senses with the feel of her, her warmth, her smell. My eyes fluttered shut and I kissed her back hungrily. I pulled against her hips harder, grinding my swelling member in to her thin yoga pants.

She pushed me away, hard, causing me to take a full step back. All the air and light rushed back in to my system as the world righted itself once again. I blinked, surprised at her strength in such a small and unassuming package.

“Uh uh.” she said, wagging her finger at me. “Not yet.” She walked back to her gym bag, unzipped it, and removed two pair of handcuffs before returning back to me.

“Handcuffs?” I asked. “I thought we were using scarves.”

She looked at me, then jerked her head towards the pull up bar. “Take your shirt off and grab that bar.” she ordered.

Again, that voice. It renders me helpless, and pliable to her. I did as she said, a little embarrassed at my physique. While in shape, I don’t have the same ridges and lines in my musculature that some men in my sport do and for whatever reason it it makes me self conscious. Holding her cuffs in her left hand she again touched my chest. She ran her hand up and down the same path, however dipped lower to graze her fingers against the bulge that was still in my shorts. Her hand was soft and warm, making me for a brief moment want her to just touch me, and not do what was coming next. The moment I had that thought, the carnal desire, the need bubbled up inside me and I raised both arms and grabbed the bar tightly in my hands.

She stood on her toes and cuffed both of my wrists to the bar, her body purposefully hovering less then an inch in front of mine. I heard the teeth latch in to the metal and looked up, giving each arm a little jerk. I was now completely at her mercy.

Samantha returned to her bag and unzipped her pink hoodie revealing a tight black sports bra. Stuffing it in to the bag she removed a pair of gloves designed for bag work. Sauntering towards me she slipped her hands in to the gloves, wrapping the velcro straps around her wrists. She pulled her pony tail tighter and looked up at me, again on her toes, her face so close to mine that I could feel it’s warmth across my lips.

“Ready?” she asked in a tone that was not inquisitive.

I nodded and drew a breath. She took a step back from me, flexed her fingers, and then delivered a right hook to the left site of my body with a dull thud. I inhaled sharply, but refused to make a sound. That single punch drained all of the apprehension and childlike fear I held for you in an instant.

“Harder.” I said, my voice almost breaking.

She hit me a second time, this time with a left hook, hard enough for me to moan. It was as if this were the verbal queue she’d been waiting for and before my body rocked back in to place from her last hit she was upon me delivering hooks, jabs, small uppercuts all drilled in to my ribs and chest.

Beads of sweat were starting to form on her brow as she worked my body, each strike made my head clearer.

Wham! ‘I have a great life.’

Wham! ‘I am a good man.’

Wham! ‘This isn’t pain, it’s a cleansing.’

That thought turned my last grunt in to the word “Stop.”

She stopped, sweating and panting, the muscles of her arms taught and defined from her work out. I looked up and down my torso finding only red splotches from gloves that would fade with in hours.

“What’s the matter?” she asked breathily.

“Take the gloves off.” I said.

For the first time she showed a little hesitation. She was fine striking me through foam, but the thought of knuckle and bone gave her pause.

“Samantha” I said clearly, “Hurt me. I want you to. Please?” the last word was begging.

“August, are you…”

“Yes. I want you to.” I replied.

She unfastened the gloves and tossed them aside. Stepping back she sat on the edge of my bed mecidiyeköy escort for a moment stretching arms across her breasts and popping her knuckles. When she was ready, she stood and approached me again.

“Ready?” she asked for the second time, this time a question.

I nodded, drew in another deep breath expanding my chest. She pressed the fingers of both hands in to her palms, popping her knuckles. Clenching her fists, I looked at her small hands. “Good.” I thought to myself knowing that less surface area meant a more painful impact. Now she took a deep breath and on exhale swung a sharp right hook in to my ribcage, her other hand held up defensively as any fighter knows to do. A noise both dull and wet filed the room, the sweet and painful sound of her flesh and bone against mine.

I involuntarily exhaled as her fist found home. There was the slightest pause from the both of us, I could see surprise in her own face at actually hitting me as hard as she did. I was of the same mind, expecting it to be sharp and painful but grossly underestimating the force she could put behind it. Our faces changes with a word spoken, from mild shock to desire. She liked hurting me, to be free to lay in to me with out fear of any violent reciprocity. I of course loved being hurt, more so hurt by her. The left fist found it’s way to my chest, then the right in to the ribs again.

The left found the opposite ribs, then the right flew in again and just below my bones in to my side. Each blow became sharper at impact, my breathing growing heavier and heavier until I took jagged breaths at her onslaught. Samantha pulled her elbows in tight and rotated her fists so that her knuckles faced me, then hit my abdomen with an uppercut. The left hand followed suit, then the right, left, right, left, right. My occasional moans turned in to gravely grunts as she worked me over.

The moment came shortly after she hit my ribcage in a spot that had been well worn. My pupils dilated letting all the light in the room in, my vision sharpened and a high pitch ring went through my ears leaving behind a very distinct clarity to the sound around me. I couldn’t tell she slowed down, or if I just perceived her to. I could hear her fists cutting through the air, the cracking against my body, and her own breath fast and short. I could see beads of sweat turning in to wet lines running down her forehead, drops hanging off her nose. My senses were on fire, I was more alive then I’d ever been before.

I slowed my breathing, taking a long, and slow breath only slightly interrupted by several more punches. I could smell her, a unique mixture of her sweat, that pungent familiar smell of human beings, and deodorant. The stale smell from her gloves caked with salty layers of old perspiration, from use. I was intoxicated, and could take no more.

“Stop.” I said, barely above a whisper, my eyes fixed on her like a predator.

She stopped and stepped away, wiping sweat from her brow. She glared back at me, her own eyes seeming to dare me to do something about it. I looked down at my body, there were dozens of yellowish imprints already deepening in to a dark purple, many of which turning in to one enormous splotch. My breathes in began to ache, however I was still too full of adrenaline to give it any thought.

“Un-cuff me.” I said, almost a demand.

She smiled impishly and slowly, purposefully, sauntered her way back to her gym bag. Before removing the keys from her bag, she removed her shoes and socks. I took the queue to step out of mine, watching her as she returned.

My eyes widened as her hand suddenly grabbed my cock through my shorts, her fingers squeezing and moving liquidly over me.

“Maybe I should just leave you up there.” she stated.

I grew fully erect, pressing my hips towards her again. Pulling her sports bra forward she dropped the small key pair in to her cleavage and let the material snap back in to place. She sank to her knees pulling my gym shorts and boxers down with her. I gasped at the sudden rush of cold air as I sprung free from the clothing. She grabbed me at the base and squeezing pulled slowly causing a small drop of pre-cum to bead up on the head. She looked up at me smiling, then licked the tip of my cock. She made an audible but low moan, swallowed, then took the head of my cock in between her lips, her tongue flickering against me. I pressed florya escort forward to which she immediately pulled back and shook a finger at me.

“Not yet.” she said, then pressed my shaft against my abdomen with the flat of her hand. She ran her nails against my scrotum, then gave the side of my cock a long lick before standing back up. She pressed her body in to mine, one hand tightly grabbed my member and began to stroke it slowly. With her free hand she ran her fingers over my head and pulled my face in to hers, again filling my mouth with her tongue. I kissed her back, hungrily, my senses still on fire. Our kiss broke, her hands withdrew from my body and she pulled the key from her bra. She intentionally pressed herself against me while unfastening the cuffs from the bar. I lowered my arms slowly, letting the blood flow back in to them, my hands squeezing in to fists to get everything functioning again. Turning my wrists up she unlocked the cuffs from my wrists, and tossed them with the key to the floor.

Just as her eyes returned to me, I was upon her. I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the bed. She started to giggle but stop short as I set her down on the edge of the mattress and took hold of her sports bra, ripping it over her head and arms. Her breasts were moist from her work out which caused her small pink nipples to harden at the temperature change. I grabbed her nipples and gave them a squeeze before pushing her down on the bed. She was caught off guard, but absolutely fearless. She scooted backwards away from me towards the center of the bed, and while doing so I took hold of the sides of her yoga pants, feeling the small lace of her panties I made sure to hook my fingers underneath those. As she moved away from me, I pulled my arms the opposite direction yanking her clothing off her. I threw them carelessly aside and climbed on the bed, grabbing her legs and dragging her body across the sheets closer to me.

Silently, I placed my palms on her knees and forced her to spread her legs, my eyes falling straight to her pussy. She was visibly wet, the folds of her sex slick and glistening. My head spun, overloaded with sight and scent, I was not going to be a gentleman in any sense of the word.

I slid my body in between her legs until the tip of my cock met a wet resistance. I pushed, hard, deep, thrusting as deep in to her as possible. She moaned, spread her legs further and bent her knees so that her legs were off the bed. I held myself up by the elbows, my chest pressed firmly against her breasts, and slammed in to and out of her over and over again. The entire bed lunged with me, her moans rhythmic and loud, sometimes through bared teeth and wrinkled nose. There were no words between us, just save grunts as I fucked her. As she became louder, and louder I pressed in to her harder until she squeezed her eyes shut and threw her arms around head pulling me closer where she bit me, stifling a scream in to the side of my neck. I felt a gush of heat, wet and messy coat my cock as she came. I continued my rhythm feeling my orgasm welling up, then raised my torso up so that my hands were flat on the bed my body angular to hers. I started to groan, she was staring at me in the same way I stared at her earlier.

She said three words, “Come in me.” and then with each hand found two now obvious and deep bruises on my torso, and pressed in to them with incredible pressure.

The pain shot through my body like fire, sending signals to my brain that I was being assaulted. My eyes squeezed shut and I grimaced at the fire, then pressed in to her pussy with every muscle in my body as taught as a bow string. I felt several hard pops as I filled her, instinctively holding my body against hers.

My arms were suddenly jelly, shaking and unstable. Collapsing on top of her, we lay there covered in each others sweat, filled with each others fluids, panting and gasping for air.

We lie side by side for a long while before she turned, propping herself up on her elbow acting every bit a normal girlfriend now instead of a UFC fighter. She ran her fingertips delicately now, up and down my body. Even that light and dainty touch was enough to make me wince.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Yes.” I answered.

“Good. I want you to feel me for days.” she said, pressing in to a bruise a little harder now.

I looked at my body for a second time. Now you could see the damage that she’d done. Small fist sized bruises littered my torso, several of them having long since merged.

I collected her in my arms and held her tightly, the act of tenderness applying enough pressure to me to be uncomfortable. All was right in my world.

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