SHE: Cruel

As the morning sun spilled through the curtains, rousing her from sleep, she stretched with a yawn. The room was dank, but incredibly warm. She lay on the bed, her nude body covered in a light sweat. Sleep never came easy when she was here, and she always resorted to sleeping in the buff without any blankets. Now as she awoke, her body protested for the rough night.

The form next to her stirred, a young man that had once more shown her the time of her life. She wished to wake him gently, as a lover would, but nature's call became too urgent for her.

Finishing her business, she watched herself in the mirror while the shower ran. Quickly approaching middle age, she couldn't say the years had been kind to her, but neither had they done her a disservice. She'd stayed in shape and eaten healthy, and had been blessed with a new baby. She relished the feeling of being pregnant again, and to use her womanly form to nurse her newborn was a feeling without equal. Her breasts had gone from a state of normalcy to wet-dream-inducing within a matter of days. Now she was the knockout of the office.

Poking a swollen orb, she cringed at the tightness. The baby had started sleeping through the night, strangely enough. Perhaps her lover had taken over the 2am bottle feeding duties. She was grateful for the extra sleep, if not the additional pressure. She'd have to take care of it after her shower.

Stepping into the long, hot stream, she began to clean herself, taking special tender care as she soaped up her mammaries, cleaning her nethers from the previous night's entertainment.

Toweling off, she changed into her work clothes. On went the nylons and black skirt. Her white blouse would match her bra, but those needed to wait until she could feed her child; relieve some of the pressure.

Stepping back into the musky room, she saw him sitting on the bed, an evil smile playing across his face. She knew what was coming next and swallowed hard, failing to stop her lip from trembling. The all-too-short distance felt like a mile as she moved to the bed and sat down. He didn't say a word as he silently kissed her, turning her on despite what was coming.

Then he struck. His rough hands worked over her freshly cleaned breasts, mashing them and increasing the pressure. Whatever pleasure she might normally have felt faded away. It was like having to pee so badly, only to have someone sit on your stomach. But in her case, the pain was multiplied by two.

She didn't say a word, only a slight whimper has his lips continued to press against hers. She knew all too well what would happen if she begged.

Reaching back, he pulled out an ice cube, and with a searing pain fashioned against her nipples. He needed her hard. He needed her in pain. She needed to be dominated.

He wasn't satisfied with ice, however. She watched him reach into a box, breasts heaving faster in terror, realizing what was coming. She'd hoped to at least feed her child. Now her entire day would be focused on the building pressure.

Coming back, he brought with him a pair of clamps. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood as the left one went on, but she didn't make a sound. He didn't want to hear her. That didn't stop the tears as the right one went on.

Now she was branded, the pair of tiny clamps drawing all her attention to the two bright spots of pain in her life. The pain holding back the building pressure, forestalling all chances of relief. He flicked her nipples, smiling cruelly. He wasn't done yet though.

Out came the tan duck tape, tearing off small strips. Mashing them down against her breasts, they covered the clamps, making her breasts smooth and stopping any looks from curious onlookers.

With that he stood up. She was free to go. She made it through getting dressed without being flogged, but neither would she find relief until late evening. With a trembling hand she cupped a breast, the sensational throbbing almost unbearable. Yet there was nothing she could do but go to work.

Reaching for her bra, he slapped her hand away. He was cruel, making her go out into public with only a button front white blouse. With a sneer she put on the shirt. She was already late enough for work as it was, and the bus ride would only provide entertainment for the other patrons as her mammeries bounced and swayed.

As she walked out the front door, she smiled slightly. He was cruel, but she should know; she raised him.