Bent

His hand is in her hair, pulling her face toward the microwave. She smells the fusty remnants of the mac ‘n cheese she heated at lunch, nose crinkles in reaction. Her eyes well with tears as his fingers draw into a fist, as her head is forced down until her nose is all but pushing into the counter. He slaps the back of her head, speaks a terse word.

“Stay.”

The quiver starts in her belly, shivers out her shoulders, her knees quake. A foot lodges between her ankles, kicking them apart, as hands lift her skirt, baring her pantiless ass. Those fingers that had torn into her hair, now dig into the soft skin of her buttocks, red marks left on white flesh.

The globes of her bottom are tugged roughly apart, exposing the long, dark exclamation point which ends at the round rosy pucker of her anus. He pokes there, one finger sinking knuckle deep. Her mouth opens in a silent O of shock, lips parting, scraping against the unwashed counter. The sharp tang of cheddar against her bottom lip tugs her attention away from his hands, from the finger inserted to the second knuckle now, screwing itself into her butthole. The finger withdraws. Her anus is not left alone for long- cold metal pierces the tight sphincter.

He laughs as the tight ring grips whatever he’s stuck up her ass.

“You look fucking stupid with the whisk handle up your shitter,” he says cruelly. Her pussy begins to wet. He pulls it out, pushes it back inside, fucking her with the tool. Tiring of the game, he shoves it back inside. She hears him rummaging through her tool drawer.

The sharp, stinging slap against her ass makes her rise to her tiptoes, squealing. Her head stays against the counter.

“Hurt?” He speaks conversationally, but she cannot reply, her breath lodged deep in her throbbing butt cheek. Her head nods once, sharply. He follows the first slap with a second, harder than the first. It nearly overlaps the first one.

“Pancake flipper…sure making a mess out of your ass.” He laughs again, as his cool hand cups her right cheek.

“Fucking hot…I could cook a pancake on your skin, slut.”

Her breath is a hard gasp, her fingers drawn into tight fists as she manages the pain. He doesn’t stop until her entire ass is red, fiery with the precision of his strikes. His hand digs in the drawer again.

This slap is different, thuddier, noisier.

“Nah, too easy.”

The thunk of a wooden spoon being thrown into the sink startled her. More noise, some grunts as he weighs his options. She can breathe normally again, coping with the sensation of the tool in her bottom, the steady throb from her aching bum. The squeak slips from her as he slaps her ass with something flexible, cool and rubbery.

Spatula, she thinks to herself. That won’t be too bad.

His hands belay the thought immediately. The strikes are hard and fast, landing on already sensitive skin. Her bottom squirms, seeking to avoid the blows, avoiding him. His hand grabs the wire whisk sticking out of her asshole, lifting it, stopping all movements, as his other hand works over the hot aching flesh. The sound from her now is a soft and steady uhnnnnnn….uhnnnnnn.

When it ends, she doesn’t sense it for a moment. The spatula is thrown into the sink with the spoon, then the whisk is tugged from her butt. He drops it onto the floor.

“You’ll clean that later.”

Again she nods once, tersely. The tang of shit reaches her nostrils. Gross. But hot, very hot. Her pussy drips.

His hands lift her hips, curling her spine, raising her cunt. The tip of his cock brushes against the swollen, damp folds, before slipping inside.

“Like a hot ass against my belly,” he growls, fingers gouging into her hips as he fucks hard. Her butt hurts from his spanking, but his belly is cool against her burning flesh. Despite the pain, or because of it, her hips rock back, begging for more as her head remains bent over the counter.

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About vanillamom

For over 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
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2 Responses to Bent

  1. Now that’s some heat in the kitchen

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