Monique's Needs

"You got daughters?" Mike asked the old man.

"I've got one," the man replied.

Mike nodded and turned to pick up Monique's handbag. He emptied its contents onto the floor, and Monique watched her keys, phone, make-up, tampons, pills and half a dozen other things end up there.

"I don't know much about handbags but I'm willing to bet that this one is expensive. Give it to your daughter. She deserves it. This-" Mike gestured with the belt at Monique, "is a disgrace to her kind."

She sighed as Mike gave a thousand dollars of Gucci bag away. But maybe the little girl would make better use of it than her, Monique reflected. The old man was gone now, and Monique was left alone with her thoughts for a moment until Mike returned, now with a necktie. She looked at him, sniffing back tears, then stood up again, back straight, her eyes looking at him sadly. He was taking her apart, she knew, piece by piece. Exactly what she had wanted him to do, exactly what she had asked him to do. She wanted to feel this wretched. But it still hurt.

Mike turned back to Monique. He wondered if the race shaming had broken the last shreds of her dignity. He wondered if her resolve was faltering. He looked for any hint of it in her eyes as he pushed her arms up behind her head. He nodded approval at how her tits were pushed forward by the position and how her arms were conveniently out of the way.

He brought the belt across her tits with a vicious forehand. Smack! The belt smashed into her left breast, and Monique let out an anguished "aaaauuuughh!" of pain as the leather impacted on her soft, coffee-coloured globes, making them dance wildly. She had slapped her own breasts before, even tried whipping them, but she had never managed to get a man to use an implement on her before. A leather belt with the full force of an adult man's arm behind it was something she had never experienced, and it was horrendous. More tears sprang from her eyes and she doubled over, her hands wanting to reach up and desperately grab at her burning breast, to cradle it, soothe it. With an effort of will she kept them by her sides. Stifling a sob, she straightened up again.

"As for you and I being the same," he said as the belt swung back striking her right breast with a back hand, "you seem to be under some strange delusion."

Crack!

"Ohhhhh! Oh fuck! Oh, oh oh!"

"I have self respect."

Crack! Monique howled.

"I don't compromise that when I get off." Crack! Crack! "You?" he laughed. Crack! Crack! Monique's body cringed and contorted, swung wildly this way and that as she screamed at every lash. Her hair was a blur of movement. She stamped her feet, she pushed her hands at the walls of the restroom, forcing them to stay there, helping her to stay upright and keep from cradling her breasts - but oh, the pain!

"You clearly don't have any self respect."

He raised the belt to strike again and she flinched. When he stopped she began to sob, looking down at the ruin he had wrought upon her breasts. They were covered with thick red and purple stripes, her nipples swollen with the blows that had struck across them again and again. She shook with the pain, and her breasts jiggled painfully as she did so.

"Oh God, oh Christ, I'll do it! I'll do it!" she babbled. "I'll lick your ass!"

"I would never get myself into this kind of situation," Mike said. This time he swung the belt up, catching the underside of Monique's left breast. WHACK! The upward stroke lifted her left tit almost as high as her shoulder.

"HHHHAAAUUUUUUGGGHHH! Oh God oh stop please please I can't stand it!"

"I don't have to choose between getting my rocks off," the belt caught the lower part of her right breast, "and basic human dignity."

"AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEE! Stop! Stop! Please! Anything! I'll do anything!" Finally Monique broke, her arms coming around to cradle and protect her ravaged breasts. She sank to her knees, sobbing at the pain he had inflicted on her, that she had asked him to inflict on her. "Please," she begged through her tears. "Please, let me lick your ass! Please! I'll make it good for you. I promise!"

Mike smiled down at the broken woman before him. She was a shell of her former self; her voluptuous body was bruised and swelling in strange ways. Her face, which had been imperious, was contorted by pain, makeup dissolving and running as he watched.

Mike squatted down and leaned in toward Monique, the weight of his body pressing her shoulders back against the metal of the stall. He nuzzled her ear, sucking her earlobe with the aggressive tenderness he had first shown her. "I enjoyed that." he whispered to her. His hand slid between her legs and he found her sex swollen with lust. He wet his hand with her wetness and brought it up. He whipped his hand on the inner surface of Monique's breasts. "It seemed that your cunt enjoyed it too." he observed his mouth pressed upon her ear.

Monique continued to sob, at the pain, at the relief at its ending, at her degradation, and the fact that she had somehow perversely enjoyed it - not the pain itself - pain was pain - but the humiliation of being forced to endure the pain, of having begged for the pain, of the bruises on her body that would take days to fade. She managed to gradually come down from her near hysterical state that the beating had driven her to, and settled for sniffling, letting out little moans as he wiped his fingers on her drooling pussy, then wiped her own juices on her bruised and battered breasts, so that he could fuck them. She moaned at the pleasure of having his hand run along her puffy, wet lips, and at the pain as he smeared her juice across the fresh red welts he had just made. Finally he spat upon her, and she watched, repelled but aroused, as the gob of phlegm slowly rolled down into her cleavage, before he grabbed her breasts again, mashing them together to smear it.

Mike stood. He pushed his pants off again, placed them on the chair and returned to stand before Monique. He turned around, squatted himself slightly and leaned back pressing his ass into her face, which had the effect of pressing her head back against the stall. He momentarily imagined himself pushing back hard to suffocate Monique, but realised that if she needed to she would be able to turn her head aside and escape. Still it was an enjoyable moment of fantasy.

Now she was face to face with his ass again, and this time he made sure there was no escape from it, pushing it backwards until her head was trapped against the restroom door. Her nose smelt every sweaty sensation of his ass in her face, and she groaned inwardly at the thought of having to lick this man's asshole. Reluctantly, she darted her tongue out and licked it up and down the crack of his ass, gagging at the taste, more tears falling at her own degradation. But as she darted her tongue against the puckered ring of his asshole, and forced herself to let her tongue push past its resistance to dart inside, she found that a hand had strayed to her pussy and was rubbing furiously at it, waves of pleasure balancing the disgusting act she was performing. She used one forearm to bring her breasts up to cradle his stiff cock, wincing as each touch reignited sore patches on her breasts, lubricated by her own juices and his spit. But there was not enough control with just her arm, and her breasts only gently rubbed his cock. Reluctantly she let her hand leave her pussy, and cupped one massive breast in each hand to push them together around his cock, moving them painfully up and down to slide around his erection as she continued to lick at his dirty asshole.

Mike let himself relax as Monique's tongue connected with his anus. He reached hands back and spread his but. "Get in there deep," he moaned with as much encouragement as instruction. His cock reacted to the wetness and warmth of Monique's mouth by coming fully erect. It wanted to spring to an upward angle, forcing Mike to bend the ridged shaft down so that Monique could cradle it with her breasts. There was fumbling and confusion but he eventually felt her wrap her breasts around his shaft.

He spread his ass cheeks further for her, allowing her to bury her face in his buttocks, her nose in his cleft, her tongue corkscrewing still deeper into his ass. Monique gagged again at the taste, but forced herself to do as he asked, the humiliation of the act an aphrodisiac that counteracted the disgusting nature of what she was doing. Still she rubbed her come and spit-lubricated breasts around his stiffening cock, feeling it grow to rigid hardness between them. Her smarting breasts hurt more as he got harder, but Monique only forced her hands closer together, distending the mountains of welted brown flesh, feeling it push through the gaps between her fingers. She began to move them up and down faster now, increasing the rubbing as she increased the depth and speed of her licking at his asshole. She felt him reach back and take hold of the rings that capped her own stiff nipples, tugging at them, the resistance sending more jolts of pain through her bruised mounds.

The sensations were intense and Mike enjoyed a long slow minute of pleasure. He leaned himself over, looking between his legs at the black woman who had given over her body to his pleasure. Her breasts were wrapped around him and her jewellery enhanced nipples stared back at him. Mike reached between his legs with his hands to locate Monique's nipples. Each was found with thumb and fore finger. He pulled her harder against him by the nipples. He pinched, feeling the metal of the piercings grinding in his grip.

"It's ok to cry" he told her as he terrorised her already bruised nipples by twisting them to the left and then back to the right. "I don't mind if you are crying as long as your tongue doesn't leave my ass. Show me that corporate work ethic."

"Glgg!"

Monique wasn't crying any more. She was hurting, humiliated, and of course turned on, but most of all she was trying to do what Mike commanded of her, trying to pleasure him in a way she was sure no other woman had done for him before. Certainly not that skinny ass little bitch that had fumbled with her clit earlier and then ratted on her to this man about her nipple rings. Monique may have been lower than any stripper or part time whore now, but she took his comment about 'work ethic' almost seriously - she was still going to show Mike Stevens that she could do things for him no-one else would or could, just like he could do things to her that no man had ever dared or perhaps even considered. It was a perversely perfect match.

Mike was very much enjoying himself. He could feel the sloppy mess of saliva dripping from his ass and coating the underside of his scrotum. He could feel the pull of his foreskin as Monique worked her damaged breasts as best she could to fuck him. He realised that if they continued he would fire a load of cum downward onto her stomach.

There was a hesitant knock on the stall door and then a large black flashlight was slid under the door. Mike stood up, pulling himself from the black woman's desperate attempts to please him. He crouched down and scooped up the device. He had seen one of the bouncer carrying one just like it when he came into the club and a conversation with the bathroom attendant confirmed what he suspected. The handbag had paid not just for privacy but also for a quick run to the storage closet for a spare stun gun.

The knock on the stall door gave Monique a jolt, engrossed as she had been in her rimming and tit job of Mike. It was a signal for him to get up and pick up the flashlight that had mysteriously been slid under the door, and gave her at least a chance to catch her breath. She was going to be tasting his ass for the rest of the night, she knew, but it was still a relief to get a break. She watched, puzzled, as Mike rolled a ribbed condom onto his cock, then picked up the flashlight and the belt. She hadn't been expecting a condom - he didn't strike her as the type, and what was with the light?

Mike made his way the chair, rifled through his pockets until he found his wallet and withdrew a condom. It was one of the 'ribbed for her pleasure' varieties that he like to use with drunk girls who would wake in the morning to find they had been fucked raw with nothing to remember him by but a knotted up ribbed condom in the bathroom trash. Mike tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his member. He picked up the belt and sat himself down on the chair. He faced her with a weapon in either hand and an angry erection wrapped in what amounted to latex sandpaper. "Get that ghetto booty over here," he said to her. "I want you to ride my cock like you are auditioning for a rap video."

Well that at least she understood. Monique climbed to her feet. Her cheek was still throbbing from where the belt had hit it. She walked into the centre of the stall and started swaying to the music that could just about be heard from the club beyond, running her hands down her body, half turning to look flirtatiously at him over her shoulder, then shimmying back some more, moving her high-heeled feet wider apart, bending slightly, until her ass began to grind back against him. She could feel the ribbed latex between her ass cheeks, and ground back some more, moving her hips in a circling motion like she was lap dancing him - not as expertly as the girls out in the club, maybe, but not bad for a 30-something businesswoman. Finally she let his cock slide under her, and reached back to position it at the entrance to her pussy, teasing him a little by continuing to let just the tip slide in and out of her wet and dripping lips, before finally letting herself settle down onto his cock, feeling the ribbing of the condom as she folded around him with a satisfied "aahhhh". She started to grind up and down again, reaching back with her hands to get purchase on the walls of the stall as she stared to fuck him.

"Is that the way you like it, honey?" she purred at him.

Mike enjoyed the little show Monique was offering him and her attempts to tease his cock surprised him. She seemed to have found a new well of resilience with her tongue corkscrewing up his ass. When she finally settled her self onto him, he felt the head of the but plug press against his lower stomach. He took a moment to enjoy the sensations as she ground her hips on him, setting down the stun gun and grabbing hold of Monique's arms at the elbows. For a time he just held her, controlling the pace of her hips. He manoeuvred the belt around her arms, well above the elbows. When he threaded the end through the buckle he was able to cinch her arms back and lock them into place.

Monique glanced behind herself as she continued to ride him, up and down, curious to see what he was doing, and nodded in understanding as she saw him thread the belt around her upper arms, pulling the loose end through the buckles. Monique liked bondage, although this looked like it could be painful. As he tightened the belt further and further, her shoulders were forced back together with her arms, pushing her chest out in front of her, and she groaned slightly at the pain as her arms were locked into this unnatural position. Her hands were just about in his crotch now, although her elbows being free it let her move her hands a little to either side.

"That is a good slut," he cooed to her, keeping her on task as he reached back for the two neckties he had carefully laid out earlier. Both had been removed with the knot and neck loop still in place. Mike reached around Monique and slipped one of the loops over her left breast. He tugged on one of the ends and the tie, tightened around her breast. It took a bit of adjustment, but the end result was a tight noose that caused the breast to swell and stick out at an un-natural angle. Mike repeated the process with the second necktie on Monique's right breast. Satisfied with his work, he took up the long ends of the neckties. He held them in his hands like reins.

"Ahhhh, yes," she said, still grinding herself up and down, enjoying the sensation of the ribbed condom in her pussy, feeling the sensation of being filled in both holes that the plug in her ass gave to her. "I'll be a good slut for you." She liked the compliment even as she knew it meant she was, after all, a slut. But then... how else to describe the things she had done tonight? She found herself hoping it would be the first of many such nights.

The novel nooses that he fashioned from ties for her boobs made her smile. She gave a little "nnnnnn" of both pleasure and pain as the first one and then the other were tightened further and further around her still sore breasts, the red marks of the belt still fading on them. She knew that her breasts were probably already starting to bruise from the beating they got earlier, and now the tightly cinched neckties made them throb all the more, gradually darkening and purpling as the blood flow was restricted. They felt even more sensitive, and the sight and feel of her tightly bound breasts was another aphrodisiac that had her groaning and squirming on his cock as she kept on moving up and down. When the nooses turned into reins that he could use to tug at her constricted tits, pulling them with a little pressure of pain as she rode him, she actually smiled.

"Ok," he said. "Time to fuck me with all you've got."

Monique looked back over her shoulder, a move made slightly more awkward by the position her arms were in, and smirked. "Yes, sir," she replied, and set off at a furious pace, trying to fuck him as hard as she could, her tired thighs straining with the effort of pumping her body up and down on the cock inside her, her arms and shoulders protesting with the belt that trapped them in position, her pained breasts bouncing in their cloth nooses, each upward move tugging against the neckties that held them, stretching them painfully, but each thrust also letting her slam her overheated cunt up and down on that wonderfully hard cock inside her, delivering a simultaneous jolt of pleasure. Monique was in a state of near ecstasy as she frenziedly pushed herself up and down on Mike's lap, her body beading with perspiration at the effort, and her pussy still overflowing with the sticky evidence of her own pleasure. She could feel herself building towards a climax as she fucked him vigorously, the pain and constriction only amplifying the pleasure for her and her mouth hung open, panting with effort and desire, her eyes dulled with sensation, as she let out little gasps and moans that echoed throughout the tiled washroom.

"Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yes!"

Mike discovered that by pulling on the reigns he had secured about Monique's breasts he could cause her tits to slap together. He amused himself by making her tits clap while she rode him with admirable eagerness. Mike was certainly enjoying the fucking she was giving him and felt a bit disappointed that he didn't pop a Viagra before hitting the club. Once she brought him to climax it would be over for him.

Hee held his orgasm at bay as long as he could, but Monique was determined and Mike soon realised he was loosing his fight for control. He let go of the ties and put his hands onto Monique's hips. He marvelled at the contrast of their skin as he controlled her rhythm for just the right intensity. Then he levered Monique's arms up, forcing her to bend over so that all he saw of her was her ass, grinding on him, jewel studded but plug clearly visible.

Monique grunted with desire as her strained breasts were made to bang together for Mike's amusement, each little slap of impact, each tug on her sore, bulging breasts a little jolt of pleasure. She was lost in her own sensation, but noticed when he suddenly let go of them, allowing them to flop up and down again with her rhythmic movements, and instead grabbed her by the hips. He pushed her bound arms forward, forcing her to bend, her head inching towards the floor. He was starting to moan now and she could tell that they were both close. This only caused her to redouble her efforts, slamming herself up and down on him as she started to squeal with the onrush of her approaching orgasm.