Chapter 20 #2
I bring my hand down on her ass, gently at first, just to feel the creamy skin.
It’s white, even whiter than her face, and sprinkled with freckles so light that I can barely see them.
I caress one cheek, from her lower back over to her upper thigh, then I do the same to the other cheek.
But when a moan escapes her parted lips, I whip my hand away, then let it fall, hard, against the swell of her ass.
“Quill!” she squeaks out, and that only makes me harder.
I give her the same treatment on the other side, watching as the pale skin on her ass turns the same splotchy red as her face. It’s intoxicating, and soon I’m barreling my hand down on her until she starts squirming in pain.
I straddle her thighs, pin her wrists down over her back, and keep going, spanking her hard, and the more she wriggles, the harder I hit.
I can’t help it, it’s addictive to watch her try to arch away from me like the cutest little worm in existence, chirping out cries that sound exactly like the crickets’ outside.
Every one of her movements shows me a lot more than she probably realizes.
Her pussy, covered in a downy layer of auburn hair, so soaked I’m tempted to stop spanking her so I can lick it, the little ring of muscle buried in the cleft between her cheeks that makes my cock ache. All of it mine.
But right now, the need to own her is overtaken by the need to punish her. To turn her cheeks crimson, to make sure she can’t sit again for a week. To hear her little chirps of pain, each one making the old, monstrous urge ebb.
All the frustration that’s accumulated in me since fifth grade courses out of my hand and onto her ass as I bring it down again and again, ignoring her sobbing pleas, feeling the darkness fade in me with every smack.
My chest feels lighter than it has in a long time as I stop at last to take in her mottled red backside.
Her heavy breathing is a mirror of mine, and the silent tears running down her cheeks are making my cock strain against my boxers.
She stopped trying to resist a while ago, and is now crying quietly into a pillow.
I whip her around and lick her face clean hungrily, even the snot running from her nose.
It doesn’t gross me out. Nothing grosses me out about her, because all of it’s mine.
Her glasses are even more crooked on her face than before as she blinks up at me.
“What did I do?” she blubbers.
“Nothing.”
“Then why did you spank me?”
That word in her mouth makes me want to do it again.
But I realize I’ve already spanked her far too hard.
I didn’t use an ounce of restraint, and I’m much stronger than her.
I have no idea how long I hit her, but it clearly lasted a while.
There must be dark bruises forming on her cheeks and thighs by now.
A normal person would probably feel remorse. But I’m not a normal person.
“I wanted to,” I shrug.
Then I lunge at her so suddenly that she gasps, and capture her lip in my teeth.
She gasps even louder when I glue my mouth to hers, and I guess it must feel a little surprising that I’m kissing her after what I’ve just put her through.
But she’d better get used to it. Because I’ve suddenly discovered how enjoyable it is to spank her.
Far more enjoyable than sticking her head in a toilet.
I’m still straddling her legs with my thighs as I pin her arms up over her head, and continue my hungry exploration of her mouth.
After her initial surprise, she’s arching into me, trying to kiss me back, but I keep her so pinned down she barely manages to move.
I tear my mouth away from her to attack every single inch of her skin, from her upper neck to her navel, kissing, sucking, biting on her as she writhes under me, moans of pleasure morphing into groans of pain, then back again.
My cock is impossibly hard as I lean back, watching her face, tear-stained again, and the violet marks that decorate her body. “I want to fuck you,” I growl.
“Yes,” she moans, arching even more toward me.
In a flash, I’ve removed my own clothes, my cock springing out now that it’s not restrained by my boxers and jeans. She eyes it hungrily, and I’m a little unsettled at seeing she wants it just as much as I do.
What’s wrong with her? I bullied her mercilessly for the past three years. I just spanked her so hard I’m pretty sure I’ve turned her ass purple. But her pussy is soaked, and she’s panting hard, clearly wanting me to do my worst to her.
Guess neither of us is normal.
I fall back on top of her, ready to push into her, when she suddenly says, “Do you have a condom?”
Fuck. No. And I realize I should probably care about getting her pregnant, because we’re only teenagers and it would destroy our lives or whatever the fuck it is they say in health class.
But I don’t care right now. Nothing could prevent me from sinking my cock in her.
And nothing could destroy my life, as long as she’s mine.
But she twists away from me for a second to reach into the first drawer of her bedside table. The one that’s got a banana peel jutting out from it. She doesn’t even have the grace to blush when my eyes take that in, before she’s grabbing a box of condoms.
I raise an eyebrow. “What the fuck? Why do you have those?”
Jealousy strangles my heart again as I wonder if she’s fucked anyone else. If she has, they’re dead. And I don’t care how much I hurt her the first time, I’ll punish her again, this time with my belt.
“Dad bought them for me,” she says. “He’s kind of over-the-top with his protectiveness. I’ve never used them, obviously. He doesn’t realize no one would touch me with a ten-foot pole.”
She glances up at me, as if hoping I’ll address the fact that I’m pretty much the reason no one at school will go near her, to fuck her or touch her or even talk to her. But again, I don’t feel an ounce of remorse.
They fucking better not touch her.
No one touches her.
No one looks at her.
No one says her name.
My possessiveness since we started high school has definitely grown uncontrollable, but I don’t care.
I only care that the plastic film covering the box is intact.
She really has never used them before. The minute she’s torn off the plastic and opened the box, I whip out a condom and push it down over my dick.
“I’m a virgin,” she says nervously, as I angle my cock again at her folds.
“So am I.”
It’s her turn to raise an eyebrow, but it’s true. I’d rather kill myself than touch any other girl. The only girl I’ve ever wanted to touch was her.
Though it’s only very recently I’ve wanted to touch her for any reason other than to inflict pain.
Not that I don’t still want to inflict pain.
I take a deep breath, willing the nerves that have suddenly reappeared in the pit of my stomach to calm down. I’m not usually the nervous type. She does weird things to me.
Then I push in slowly, very slowly, even though I’d like to ram my cock inside her. But she’s tiny, and her walls squeezing my dick actually hurt a little. Not enough that I lose any of my arousal as I penetrate her, groaning at this new, intoxicating sensation. It sure beats jerking off.
At last I’m inside her fully. I slide my hands under her waist and pull her to me, kissing each of her stiff nipples almost reverently before crushing her to me so she’s in a sitting position, straddling me.
But I still don’t let her move much, pinning her arms behind her with one hand, as the other slides up in her hair, wrapping itself around her coils, tilting her head back, and devouring her mouth and neck.
Meanwhile, my cock is driving in and out of her, gently at first as she tenses and hisses in pain, then faster when I see her getting used to the intrusion.
Fuck, it feels amazing. Like our bodies fit each other perfectly. I let go of her hands to grip her ass, squeezing it as she hisses once more in pain, and I remember how bruised she is back there. Which only makes me grip her harder, the desire to be gentle giving way once more to darkness.
As I fuck her, she brings her arms around to squeeze my shoulders, then runs her hands along my back, softly at first. But when I pick up my rhythm, her light touch turns into nails raking my skin, so hard they’ll probably leave angry red streaks.
It’s good. It’s so fucking good. But it’s not enough.
I pump into her wildly, flipping her around on the bed so I can enter her fully, restraining her with the weight of my body.
She groans and huffs, pain battling it out with pleasure, as I own her pussy, feeling like I can’t go hard or fast enough to satisfy my bottomless need.
My hand is still pinching and kneading her ass as the other alternates between pushing down on her back and reaching around to twist and crush her nipples.
Though I’m fucking her hard, she’s meeting each of my thrusts hungrily, arching her back toward me as it feels like I’m destroying her cunt.
The sensation is so relentlessly intense, every nerve in my body humming, that I’m not even aware of the orgasm hovering over me before it comes crashing down.
I fall over her, nearly crushing her as my body shudders in hers.
Meanwhile, her pussy has been milking mine, her hand massaging her clit, and just as I’m coming in her, she tenses suddenly, spasming around me before her arousal drenches my condom.
It’s a miracle that the condom has actually contained anything, because it feels like both our bodies have just exploded.
We stay like that for a long time, my arms wrapped around her, my cock still inside her, because I can’t muster up the energy to move. And neither can she.
At last, though, I pull away, regretting the touch and the citrusy scent of her the minute I do. I take off the condom and throw it in the trashcan, which she does have under her desk, though she doesn’t seem to make much use of it, judging by the state of her room.