Getting to Joan Ch. 03

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Joan's submission continues.
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/04/2022
Created 01/23/2003
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Joanie was coming along fine. I moved in with her so I could keep her straight. She didn’t need to take her sleeping pills anymore and she didn’t seem to suffer from depression either. It is amazing what a little discipline and some satisfying sex can do to help someone. She still had her executive position at work. But when I came around she was my slave, my little sex slave. I liked to go see her on her lunch hour, go in her office and lock the door, bend her over the desk and fuck that smooth pussy of hers. It is nice to knock off a quick piece in the middle of the day. It was extra nice knowing that I didn’t have to fuss with panties, and all that stuff, All I had to do was just tell her to lift her skirt, bend over and spread her legs. I got off on seeing the transformation from Human Resources executive to slut. I think it did her good too. She was becoming more honest with me, letting me in on her little secrets.

She told me how her step father had molested her as a teenager, how she told her mother about it and her mom just yelled at her and called a slut. She said her mom told her she divorced her biological father when she was an infant because he was a drunk, but she found out later it was because she left him for her step father. It seemed Joanie got her ways honestly, all things considered, it was the only way she could have turned out. She had been date raped by an older boy when she was just a freshman in high school. She said the experience was horrible, but she still got wet thinking about being raped. It bothered her that it turned her on that way.

I would tell her not to worry about it. Then I would ask her if it turned her on to tell me all of that stuff. She said it did. Then I would tie her up, fuck her like a slut, and generally make her relive her nasty fantasies. It was cathartic for her and I was getting some of the best sex I had ever had. I showed her the pleasures of being dominated by a man, being made to submit, to be humbled, to have all of your dark secrets exposed, and in the end caring enough to stay and not leave. It was a brand new world for her. No other man knew so much about her and yet still accepted her. She seemed happier, less insecure. I taught her it was okay to deal with those forbidden thoughts that most are afraid to confront.

Of course I had my own selfish reasons too. I was fucking Joanie at least once a day, sometimes three times or more. I used her for whatever gratification I needed. At home she was the perfect woman. She cooked the meals, kept the house clean, made herself available for whatever sexual appetite I might have. She had become quite a slut for pain. I had installed eyebolts in the bedroom from which I hung her by her arms and used my belt on her. She would kick and scream as the belt left its marks on her body. I spared not an inch of her. Her breasts, pussy, buttocks, stomach, the insides of her thighs had all tasted the sting of my belt. I liked the way she would look at my belt when I would enter her office at work. Her face would become flushed with embarrassment knowing she was hiding from her co-workers the marks it had left on her.

I had opened up Joan to a whole new world, a world where is was okay to be who you were, where pleasure and release could be found in discipline and pain. We were happy until I came in from work to find Joanie upset. She was still in her professional attire, a gray skirt, white blouse, jacket and black pumps.

"What’s wrong?"

"It’s Julie."

Julie was her oldest daughter. She lived with some guy who worked at a night club. I had only met her once in passing. She and Joan didn’t get along real well.

"She wants to move in. She says she can’t make it on her own. Her retail job doesn’t pay enough."

"She is your daughter, you can’t turn her away."

"But I like things the way they are. I don’t want her here. She resents you and I am afraid it will cause problems. She is old enough to be on her own. Besides we can’t do the things we do with her around here every night."

"Why not?"

"You’ve got to be kidding. What would she think if she knew what we did. What if she knew about what kind of relationship we had."

"Are you ashamed Joanie? Do you feel guilty? I happen to think you are pretty nice. It took a lot of effort on my part to get you this way and I must say it has paid off. It might do her good to see her mom set a good example of how to keep a man."

"That is just it. She doesn’t want a man. I think she is a lesbian, or at least bi-sexual. She hangs out with this really dykey looking girl who is always telling her what to do. Julie is really fucked up. You see, Julie’s step father did to her what mine did to me. I turned into a slut, I think Julie is going to turn into a lesbian. That is why I divorced my second husband. I caught him and I didn’t want to be like my mom. I couldn’t turn on her. It wasn’t her fault, but she stills blames me. Even after I divorced my second husband she would see me dating different men, and hate me for divorcing her real dad."

"Let me guess, you were fucking around with the future husband number two. That is why you divorced Julie’s father?"

Joanie hung her head and didn’t say anything.

"I swear Joanie, you really know how to fuck up. Now the chickens have come home to roost."

Joanie began to cry, "please don’t hate me. I was alone trying to raise two girls. I was weak and didn’t know what to do. You know me, you know how I am. If I had only known you then. I have been so stupid. I need you. I need you to control me. I understand that now. I just wish my past would go away. I wouldn’t blame you for hating me. Every other man I ever knew did sooner or later."

"Do you want me to hate you?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"It seems your pattern has been to sabotage every relationship you’ve ever had. You picked guys out of desperation. And then tried to blame them for your own shortcomings."

"I hate it when you talk to me that way. It makes me think you don’t care for me."

"You hate it because I am holding a mirror to your face and you don’t look so good in it."

"Then why the hell do you stay with me?" she snapped back angrily.

I laughed and said, "Because you have pretty good pussy for a chick your age."

Her angry face turned into a pout. Like I told you the chick liked to fuck and she took pride in that part of the relationship. I was the first man who had ever fucked her down, fucked her so hard and made so sore from fucking that she could barely walk. I made sure she came multiple times just from fucking her. She had no idea I was the kind of man I was. I had become her drug, only this drug could dominate her in ways she had never considered before. Her pout only served to hide what we both knew.

I turned her around facing me pushed her jacket from her shoulders. Then I began to unbutton her blouse. Delicately, each button, as though it was opening of its own accord, without her permission. I pulled her blouse from her skirt and then pushed it off of her shoulders as well, letting it fall to the floor. Next, I unhooked her bra and let her breasts fall free. Her nipples were stiff and her skin flushed with the heat of her arousal. As of yet I had not touched her skin. I wanted her to crave that, to tease her, expose her, make her want to be touched.

"Listen, I know what you need," I said tenderly. I took her hand and lead her into the bedroom. She was meek now. Without a word, I took the black drapery chord from the night stand and bound her wrist together and looped the free end through the eye bolt in the ceiling at the foot of the bed, stretching her arms above her head so tight she had to stand on her tip toes. She looked beautiful like that. Then I began to unzip the side of her skirt and let it fall in a heap around her ankles. She was naked now except for her thigh high hose and heels. She looked good like that. Her blonde pubic hair was gone now. Her pussy bare, in submission to my wishes. She said she like it that way now, the way it felt , the way it reminded her of me. She had learned to love it when I did this to her. She loved the tender ritual, knowing it would lead to torment and pain. The pain would cleanse her. relieve her of the burden of guilt she carried and make it alright to be the wanton slut that she was. And,… she knew it would please me and increase my desire for her.

I spun her around so that she could see me as I pulled my belt slowly from my slacks and let it dangle wickedly from my hand to the floor. She turned away offering her backside to me. I could see her face in the mirror, the look of fear as I swung the belt back and then struck her hard across her ass. She gasped, as it hit her. I struck her again on the ass, harder this time. I adjusted my stance and let the belt strike her higher, watching it wrap around her, and lick her breast. I continued to do so until her back had tits were decorated with swollen stripes. Then I hit her lower on the back of her thighs, sometimes stepping back letting the free end go between them. Letting it get close to her cunt. That is what excited her the most, being exposed like this had having her cunt whipped. She began to whimper, trying to hold back tears. I only struck her harder, hard enough to make her scream, to make her sob. It was what she needed. She had been out of control most of her life, unable to control herself. She didn’t think she could. She needed me to do it for her. I can’t explain it, but I knew it from the beginning. I knew it was what she needed. Women like her had always seemed to be drawn to me. Or maybe, and it was an interesting possiblity, all women were like her, some more secretly than others.

She was broken now, her head hanging down, sobbing. Any more punishment would have done no good. I let her down. Still sniffing she fell to her knees in front of me and took hold of the zipper of my slacks and pulled it down. She reached in and took my cock out, looked at it for a moment and then began to stroke it, and then finally took the head of it in her mouth drooling over it until it was it’s full length and slick with her saliva. I liked her like this, she liked being like this. I knew she would be wet when I took her to bed.

"Go to the bed and bend over."

She got up and wordlessly stepped over to the bed and bent over, arching her back the way I had trained her. Just as I said, her pussy and the insides of her thighs were glistening with her juices. I took hold of her hips and effortless slid the length of my cock inside her. Slowly I stroked her, slowly her excitement built, her breathing became faster. She was trying to move her hips, trying to fuck me back.

"Oh god! That feels good. I love to feel you balls slap against my clit," she panted.

I pulled my dick out. She tensed up, she knew what was next as I pushed the tip against her anus. I grabbed the cheeks of her ass and spread them wide as the head of my cock disappeared into her. She grunted from the pain.

"I don’t know why I love it. It hurts so much, but I love it when you do this to me. I love the way you control me."

I pinned her down with the weight of my body fucking her ass. I reached around and found her clit and began to finger her. "You know you have no choice don’t you? You know I will do what ever I want to you don’t you?"

"Huh huh."

"That’s right you nasty little bitch. You like it because it hurts, because you like it nasty and rough. Because you are such a naughty little girl. Does my little whore like it when I play with her pussy?"

"Yes sir." Her voice began trembling and she moaned as she came from my fingering her clit.

I didn’t stop. I had her pinned down. I kept fucking her ass and continued to play with her clit with no mercy. In only a few seconds she was cumming again. I could feel the wetness as it poured from her pussy into my hand. She had never known what is was like to ejaculate, but now she did. The sensation would exhaust her. She was weak now. She had used all her energy and relaxed as I continued to pump her ass and finally allow my seed to pour into her.

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1 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousalmost 20 years ago
Interesting

I have to rate this as lukewarm, but I'll say that it's partly because of my feelings toward the dialogue.

To explain further: The dialogue often comes across as wooden--it's well thought out, generally. But it's missing the human touches that mark our speech.

Psychologically, many aspects of the story make me wince--and BDSM isn't therapy, no matter what we might wish.

Lastly, I just didn't feel a lot of warmth in the relationship between the two characters, it didn't sound as though this was a lot of fun for either of them. The guy basically says he's abusing the girl, and the girl likes it. That's fine, but to quote another story I read here somewhere: "Cold pancakes, no syrup."

The best part for me was the last couple of lines of the paragraph beginning "I spun her around. . ."

Mechanically there are a couple of editing errors, but no biggies.

Just my opinion. Thanks for posting the story.

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