Chapter 29
Quill
Piper thrashes under me, panting into the frozen ground. She ran so fast she’s sweating despite the low temperatures. Which is good, because I have plans, and they don’t involve her wearing layers and layers of clothing.
Anyway, even if she weren’t hot now, she would be by the time I’m finished with her.
I grab the twig from my back pocket and the army knife I always have on me. I quickly whittle it down, but not too much, because a few extra stubs will make it more fun—at least for me.
My cock is straining against my boxers as I stroke her bottom with the switch. She inhales sharply when she feels the rough wood against her cheeks. She clenches, tightening her ass nervously at the punishment she probably expects will turn her pretty cheeks red.
I’m not exactly planning a normal spanking, though.
I grab one of her cheeks and part it roughly, revealing the little ring of muscle, causing her to squeal into the frozen ground.
“Quill! What are you doing?”
Instead of answering, I let the switch cleave the air, falling straight into her very center. She howls in pain.
“Quill! That hurts! Stop!”
I actually have to bite down on the urge to do exactly as she says. I’m not used to powering through despite her pleas to stop. I wish I hadn’t chosen such an intense experience to start with.
But at the same time, I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on before.
Something about her squirming and crying reminds me of how it used to be.
Back in high school, when I was her bully, not her lover.
It grew into a real obsession, an addiction even, to get a rise out of her, to make her angry or make her cry, sometimes both at the same time.
I relished in my power over her, spent all the time I wasn’t bullying her dreaming up new forms of torment.
High school unleashed the sadistic side in me, and calmed my urge to kill her.
Of course, the last thing I want to do is kill Piper now. But there’s something about feeling such complete power over her that intoxicates me. It awakens the bully instinct in me. The one that makes me enjoy her tears and gasps of pain.
Fuck, I have such a hard-on it hurts.
I bring the switch down harder and longer than I meant to, attacking her most sensitive areas. Her crack, her pussy. I’m really a fucking sadist, to be using such a painful implement for the first time, concentrating it on where it hurts her the most.
I had only planned to give her two or three strokes with the switch, but I must have struck her at least a dozen times by the time I’ve finished.
When I finally toss the stick, she cries in relief.
She’s not even embarrassed anymore when I part her cheeks again, my cock growing even stiffer when I notice the angry red stripes zigzagging on her most intimate parts.
Some of them in the very center of her, right over her asshole, others on the insides of her cheeks, and still more turning her pussy bright red.
She shudders when I bring a finger down between her cheeks to rub the pain away.
“I want to fuck you where I hurt you,” I growl in her ear.
“No, Quill,” she sniffs. “It burns too much.”
I pause again, hesitating, before noting the glance she gives me through her tears.
This girl. She’s testing me, wondering if I’ll follow through on what she asked. She’s never said no so much before, and I can tell it’s a mix of wanting to provoke me, and needing to feel how powerless she is.
The thought of taking what she doesn’t necessarily want to give me is enticing, but it’s hard, too. What if I go too far? What if she really doesn’t want it? How will I be able to tell?
I half-wish we had defined some sort of safe word, but at the same time, I understand what Piper meant. The loss of control she needs is real, not contrived. She doesn’t want to carry the knowledge that, deep down, she can put a stop to it whenever she wants to.
And the truth is, neither do I.
But what makes me nervous is wondering if I’ll know when to stop. Given unlimited power, how far could my sadism carry me?
I’m going to have to be careful.
Unfortunately, careful is not something I’m used to being.
“It burns, huh?” I whisper in her ear.
“Yes,” she sniffs. “So don’t make it worse, Quill. Don’t you dare!”
Grabbing her roughly by the sides, I don’t even give her a second to realize what I’m doing. I whip out my cock and push it into her bruised ass.
“Quill!” she shrieks, writhing around me.
I still within her, letting her fight me. She’s actually going wild, trying to force herself away from my cock, and I pin her down more firmly, my cock inside her hard to the point where it feels like it could burst. It’s addictive to watch her wiggle her butt, trying helplessly to resist.
“You can scream as loud as you want to,” I threaten, wrapping my hand around her throat. “You can try to fight me. It’s all pointless.”
At last she grows still, shuddering around me, and I begin to pump in and out of her, groaning at how tight she feels around my cock. Fuck, it’s so good.
Removing her glasses and sticking them in the pocket of my hoodie, I push her down to the ground, keeping her ass up. Then I reach around to lift up her shirt and tweak one of her nipples. My other hand keeps a firm, slightly squeezing hold around her neck.
It’s not so tight that she can’t speak, which she makes clear from the jumble of words leaving her mouth.
“Quill! Stop! Fuck! Oh my gosh! It hurts! At least pull my shirt back down, asshole, the ground is freezing cold!”
The more she resists, the faster and harder I go, trapping her to the ground beneath me, driving my cock into her so relentlessly, she can’t do anything but take it.
“It’s freezing cold, is it?” I breathe in her ear.
“Yes, it is—fuck, Quill, fuck!—so at least let me get up!”
Her protests are increasingly interrupted by loud moans, and I don’t even need to touch her to know she’s soaking wet.
I grab a fistful of clean white snow beside me. “I’m going to do something about that freezing cold,” I say.
Then I lift up her coat and shirt all the way, and bring the snow right onto her back.
“Oh my gosh, Quill!” she squeals.
I drag the snow up and down her spine and she gasps and splutters from the sensation, but I speed up my fucking and tighten my hold around her neck at the same time.
She can’t make a sound anymore, though I know she’s still able to breathe.
Her hands are the only thing she can move, and she fists them and hits the ground, in her attempt to handle the overwhelming sensations.
Her ass keeps wriggling against me too, and it’s so enticing it makes me drive my cock into her all the harder. Once the first fistful of snow has fully melted, I take more, and this time, I drag it up and down her stomach, rubbing her breasts, making her nipples painfully stiff.
“Qui-i-ll,” she manages to gurgle through the hand still wrapped around her neck. “I want to co-o-me… please…”
“I’ll give your little pussy some attention,” I half-promise.
She senses what I’m up to when I grab yet another fistful of snow, and this time, direct it to her folds. At the same time, I loosen my hold over her neck, because I can sense that breathing is becoming quite a struggle for her.
“No! No, Quill, no!” she squeaks out with her first full breath.
“Yes, Quill, yes!” I tease, and then clamp the snow over her pussy. She shakes violently as I grab her tit with my free hand, and twist the stiff nipple.
She opens her mouth to cry out, or maybe to protest some more, but the fingers twisting her nipple, the snow against her pussy, and my cock driving relentlessly into her ass have her submitting at last. She sags against the ground, her ass still high in the air from the force of my pumps.
I push into her a few more times before thick ropes of my seed fill her.
Then, groaning, I lie on top of her, encircling her stomach with my arms to warm her up.
I hug her quietly to me for a while, trying to regain my breath, and listening to the sound of her breathing grow steadier.
“You okay, cricket?” I murmur at last.
“Fuck no!”
I smile, knowing her enough by now to realize she’s only trying to provoke me into giving her more. I flip her over to her back.
“You’re so mean,” she pouts. “I was about to come when you put all that snow on my labia. Now I’m all numb down there!”
“Your labia,” I snort, kissing her. “You’re as bad as Josh, with all his nerdiness.”
She grimaces. “I really don’t want to hear his name right now. Even though he’s a lot nicer than you are. You’re just a big bully.”
“Is that so?” I close her coat loosely around her, just enough up to keep her from getting too cold, though I leave her jeans around her ankles. Then I straddle her thighs. “It strikes me I haven’t bullied you half enough.”
“You bullied me plenty,” she lashes out. “All of high school. Bet it gave you a big hard-on, too.”
“It sure did,” I grin. “Didn’t it make your… uh… labia wet, too?”
“No, you sadist!” she cries out, before hedging, “We-e-ll, it probably would have. If I’d known you didn’t hate me.”
A sad little silence follows her words. She seems to regret them, biting down on her lip. I can tell she’s struggling not to apologize, and my own chest constricts as I think back to the painful parts of our past, which I know I’m entirely responsible for.
Abruptly leaning down, I capture her lips. She moans as I push my tongue in, claiming her mouth forcefully. Then her arms shoot up to hug me, but I pin them down again at her sides.
“I’m not quite finished with you.”
“Oh yeah?” she asks as I drag my mouth away. “You going to bully me some more?”
There’s no sadness now in her voice. She looks just as excited as I feel.
Maybe if replacing the bad pain with the good pain works, so will replacing the old bullying with a new kind of bullying. One where I remind her, every second that I’m tormenting her, how much I love her.
“Has anyone ever washed your face with snow?”
“Quill!” she giggles. “Are you serious?”
Instead of answering, I grab two fistfuls of snow and bring them down on either side of her face, rubbing her cheeks till they’ve turned splotchier than I’ve ever seen them before.
She wriggles underneath me, trying to get away from the coldness, but I’m forceful as I slide the snow down to her neck, burning her where I’d previously choked her.
She’s gasping so hard she doesn’t even register it when I whip her coat back open, tug up her shirt, and take one nipple in my mouth, then the other, rolling them in my mouth until I’m satisfied their stiffness comes from arousal and not cold.
Then I work my way down, licking at the trails left by the snow on her stomach.
“Hold your legs up,” I tell her.
“Quill, you are not putting me in that embarrassing diaper position again—”
I don’t let her finish her sentence, instead forcing her legs up.
And though she’s verbally resisting, she clearly has no problem doing what she’s told, especially when she feels my hot breath against her pussy.
She hooks her arms under her knees and waits, shivering in a way that I know is not just from the cold.
But I decide to tease her a little longer when my eyes once more take in the red stripes from the switching that are laid bare in this very revealing position.
My tongue heads further south, and she cries out in surprise and discomfort when she feels it dart over her crack, right over the angriest of the stripes.
“Quill! What are you doing? Stop that!”
Again, I hesitate, because I’m worried she really means it this time. But even if she does, didn’t she tell me she wanted me to go too far? If I stay in her comfort zone, will she ever get the feeling she craves—true helplessness?
So, giving way to my urges, I land another long lick on her crack, then bury my tongue up her ass. Not that I ever particularly wanted to taste my own cum, but now it’s inside her, and I want to taste all of her.
Apparently though, getting her ass eaten out is a sensation that really takes Piper by surprise. She lets go of her legs, and one of them accidentally jerks up, kicking my chin. Then she takes advantage of my slightly dazed state to flip to her stomach and try to scramble away.
She doesn’t get too far before I grab her ankle and hoist her right back, disregarding her desperate struggling.
“I prefer you in this position anyway,” I growl, tugging the rest of her jeans off.
I lean against the trunk of the nearest tree, bringing her to me in a semi-wheelbarrow position, her legs on either side of me.
Then I bury my face once more in her bottom.
“Quill, it’s so weird! Oh my gosh, it’s so weird!”
She’s doing her best to resist me, but there isn’t much she can do in this upside-down position, with her arms pushing against the ground to keep her head from touching the snow.
The more she struggles, the more uncomfortable she looks, the more the dark urges in me want to keep her in that state, my tongue forcefully invading her crack and hole.
But at last, I take pity on her—well, some sort of distorted form of pity—and reward her with a lick to her pussy.
“Oh, Qui-i-ill,” she moans, shuddering.
But I’m not quite ready to pleasure her.
Another lick, and I’m back to torturing her backside as she whines in need.
I keep up that rhythm for a while, alternating between her pussy and her ass, my cock growing harder by the second.
The realization that I’m about to cream my own pants from the enjoyment I take in seeing just how frustrated and helpless she is, has me going back to her pussy for good.
I drive my tongue into her more forcefully and suck on her clit until she comes, her arousal spraying over my face.
Then she’s back to sagging on the ground, breathing hard.
Unable to wait a moment longer, I push her off of me, quickly unzip my fly, and a few pumps are all that are necessary before I’m coming for the second time, decorating her ass with my seed.
“Fuck, cricket,” I groan, landing on my knees beside her.
I grab one last fistful of snow, but this time, it’s only to clean her bottom. Then I drag her to my lap, doing my best to warm her.
We stay huddled together for a long time, both of us trying to regain our breath.
“How’d you like getting your face washed with snow?” I tease, at last breaking the peaceful silence.
I don’t let on how relieved I am to hear her mumble into my chest, “Let’s do it… again…”
Then she falls into a deep sleep, the way she always does after an intense session.