Rule of Thumb Pt. 01 - Sex Stories

Rule of Thumb Pt. 01

... tide at bay. And it was time to tear down the walls.

With a small grunt, Ben began to ratchet up the force of his blows. The pitch and pass of the whip's whistling increased bit by bit. Claire began to twitch more violently; her breathing increased and turned to hissing and moans. The semblance of calm detachment as she was whipped began to slip away. She jerked. Her legs threatened to close. She danced more and more rapidly on her toes. The precision of the whip strikes became ragged and all pretense of predictability fled. Her motion and Ben's intent combined to create random strikes that caught Claire short. And just as Claire neared her breaking point, just when she was about to start screaming, Ben commanded her to cum.

Aaagh! I can't breathe... can't breathe, aaagh. The climax tore through Claire as she struggled to inhale. Finally, she managed to suck in a ragged breath despite the contractions that ripped through her.Aaagh.... Again and again her belly went rigid against the couch, lifting her torso and legs into the air, her whole body balanced on her hips that pressed to the couch back, as though she were suspended on a knife. As each wave passed, she flopped back onto the cushions only to have the next contraction pull her back into the air, screaming in release.

Ben increased the pace of the whip again, the whistling constant and the crack of the leader an incessant popping as Claire rode out her climax. Ben didn't let up. Each stroke cut fresh welts ...

... into her soft flesh. The strikes burned her, seared her nerves raw and ragged. But the cresting orgasm over-road the pain, morphed it, absorbed it and fed more and more power to Claire's climax. What would normally already have ended was egged on by Ben's insistent whipping of Claire's ass and thighs. Every time she relaxed, the whip snaked in to kiss her pussy, or lick the tight bud of her ass. It slashed across the back of her thighs and wrapped around the sides and sent slicing ribbons of pain screaming across her naked, sweating flesh. His deft placement of the whip squeezed ecstatic contractions from her core time after time.

And even when her crest passed, Ben kept striking her. Claire's screams were raw now. "Oh God, No! No! No!" she croaked through her sobs. "Ahhhgh!" She blubbered and begged, danced on her toes trying to avoid the whip. But Ben was reveling now in her raw and naked screams of pain. He'd been determined from the outset to rip these screams from Claire. The long dance of keeping her focused was over. Now he wanted her to hurt; wanted the thrill of that power washing over and through him.

The ability to inflict orgasms on Claire, to make her cum, yes, that was a rush. But the dark part of the dance was this; brutalizing her softness, inflicting pain that was not erotic for her, but was for him. Claire, and all masochists in his experience, wanted, no,needed to suffer for his pleasure. Their motivation was deeper than orgasm. It filled a need in them ...