Why

"She doesn't understand."

"Why would you let him do this? What is wrong with you?"

They've been friends a long time, but the yelling was pushing it now. "She doesn't understand." She thought again to herself.

"You don't understand." She says aloud finally. She had been thinking it, but was unsure how to say it directly. She decides to just speak the words.

"What's there to not understand?" Her friend's voice raises a little. There is shock in the tone and it goes a little shrill when there's nowhere for the upset to escape except by the words coming out.

As much as she wants to be left alone right now, the thought that her friend and roommate is upset for her is comforting. But, again, the woman doesn't understand. Her eyes drop to the floor a little and she wonders if maybe she is not being completely honest with herself. She looks at the reality of the situation and knows that if she saw marks like this on her friend, she would be upset too.

Her eyes raise to the mirror and the red lines covering her chest. Raspberries raised at intervals over the delicate pale skin of both breasts, lines intersecting around, under and over the perfect mounds. She smiles in delight. Each one a memory.

"What the fuck?" The voice is high enough to wake the neighbors now. "You're laughing?!? I can't believe this shit!" It's practically screaming now.

It brings flashbacks of her own screams. Her cries. The long drawn out, exploding orgasm that made her virtually pass out.

"Yes." She says. Her eyes meet those of her friend. "I like it. You really don't understand." Her eyes keep contact as her fingers trace each line.

There is a stiff pause and a heavy anger cloud brewing through the air. "Well. Maybe you can help me to understand." Her friend is panting, but stops to suck in a gulp of pure oxygen. "It looks like he whipped the shit out of you."

A moue of disgust crosses the scolding face and the tone that comes next suggests a sarcasm being held back by the thinnest veneers of civility. "Perhaps you did something to deserve it like run off or gag when you were sucking his cock?"

A giggle escapes her lips. She can't help it. "He likes when I gag, actually."

Not helping. The face turns scalding.

"This isn't punishment." Her shiver gives away the fact that she has been punished and this isn't even close.

"Holy shit. Listen to yourself. Look at this!" The voice is going up again. Hands reach out and tear the corner of the blouse away, revealing even more lines and blotches where teeth have dug in or skin was twisted in little piles. Pulling back the shirt reveals a particularly evil looking red spot with very clear tooth marks. "Fuck!"

"Look." Her hand goes out to her friend. "I can explain."

"I fucking hope so. I'm this close to calling the fucking police. I can't believe you of all people could let this happen to you."

His hands reach around the seat to the front of her. His breath is on her neck and his lips bare millimeters from the delicate flesh. She is already squirming. She doesn't understand how he can do this to her so easily.

"He kisses me and my knickers fall down." She laughs to herself in her best English accent. "When that's not enough, he touches me and my innards melt all over the dang kitchen floor." She thinks this last in her best Okie.

His hands massage her collarbones, her neck where it meets her shoulders, her chest, her ribs. It skips slickly over her breasts, outlining them but not openly touching or playing with them yet. She wants it though. Fingers splay in fey mood around her sides and up. Her armpits, her scapulae. Down to her stomach and the small of her back. As far as can be reached with the back of the chair in the way.

She squirms freely now. Alive and electric. Every pore open. Every nerve sizzling like frayed wire. His hands keep at her for what seems like hours and might well have been. She really has no idea of measurement. They finally do take her breasts, weighing each one and slipping easily under, over and around. Pulling at each nipple, sizing every angle. She wants to giggle again, but she is panting.

He takes so much time making sure she is alive and able to feel every little nuance of his touch. Then his lips work at the back of her neck and she is lost for a time. When she comes back slowly.to consciousness, his lips have made it all the way to her shoulders and are moving outward.

They'd sat at the table together mere hours ago, eating a supper he'd made for them when he reached over, took her hand and tied it to the arm of the chair. He moved around her and tied the other to the other arm of the chair and then her legs. Each to their own piece of wood. He moved behind her, reached around and unbuttoned her blouse.

"You know me." She tells her friend.

"I thought I did." The look softens just a little. Eyes drop to the angry stripes interlocked over tender perfect skin. "I can't believe this." They don't look away though.

"You know no one is going to do something like this to me without my consent.' A snort. "I like it." Her fingers are still lightly tracing the lines, lingering on the larger burning spots. She imagines that she knows each one personally. She doesn't. They all blend in together. A whip stroke that leaves a mark the same as one that doesn't. Her friend doesn't understand that the marks are only the reminders he gives. Not the only ones. Every time she moves, especially quickly, she feels him deep inside her. As though he never pulled out the last time, just left his penis stuffed deep in her to jolt her cervix whenever it changed position.

The look is one of horror and she has to reevaluate her life again. Honestly look at whether she is actually choosing this or having it forced on her. She laughs openly. A clear note of decision and gestalt.

"Yes. I like it. You don't understand."

"Well. Are you going to explain it to me? Cause it looks like he beat the shit out of you and then convinced you that you deserve it."

"I told you it's not a punishment." The eyes are disbelieving. Her fingers slide along a particularly red weal. "I do like it." Her breath sucks in dramatically (even to her), though not intended that way. "I begged for it."

Her nipples are so hard they ache. Her breasts heavy and swaying in anguish. She is overripe and in such need that she hears "Please" drooling from her lips without any effort on her part and she is unable to keep it in.

His fingers have worked all this time. Whether his lips have moved or waited breathlessly at her ear, his hands have slid and weighed her every bit of self they could reach. Her legs opened all on their own, but never did they stray so far, keeping to the area above her waist. Occasionally massaging her brow, bunching her hair, smoothing her cheek or pressing deep into the points of her face that send lines of feeling throughout her entire being.

"Please." She manages. He likes driving her to this place. Where she will beg for what she needs. Where she aches for whatever he will give her and plead for him to take her. Claim her. Do whatever he wants with her.

He rises from behind her and moves away. She arches her neck, curious, but can't see where he went. She can only wait for his return.

"You really don't understand."

The hard eyes show confusion for a moment. Falter in their certainty. Then fall to the red lines and flash once again.

"It is only sensation. By the time he works me over, I am so alive and so needy that this is nothing. It's not really even pain. It doesn't exactly hurt when he does it. I can't tell the difference. I get a jolt and my body burns from the inside out."

The eyes turn flinty and disbelieving.

"I love it." Her voice trails off and her fingers run along another line, hesitate at a welt and stroke along the tops of her breasts where the two meet.

When his footsteps intrude into her daze, she sighs and gasps all at the same time. It's a hiccough of a sound that mingles with another "Please."

He carries leather cuffs that he proceeds to buckle onto her wrists. He locks them together with a clip and then unties her legs. A nervous giggle almost comes out as she sees him throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her like a sack into the bedroom where he takes her however he wants.

He does buckle cuffs on her ankles as he frees each leg, but doesn't lock them together. She wonders if she can stand fromout the puddle she sits in without a sucking sound. Another giggle nearly pops out.

He ties her arms together above her head on the mattress and her legs spread open. Face down and squirming with need. She feels his bulge ridiculously hard brushing up against her side or poking into soft tissue as he moves around her, tying and arranging. It excites her all the more to know that he is turned on and ready to fuck her til she screams at any moment. He pauses, satisfied that she is bound properly and she hears the rustling sound that tells her he is stripping his own clothing from his body.

His hands proceed to touch her everywhere he was unable to reach sitting in the chair in the kitchen. They move sedately over her as she subtly and sometimes not so slyly attempts to move more sensitive areas into contact with his body.

She is a strong personality. There is no doubt. A tough woman with goals and confidence. She manages with solid decision making ability.

"You know me."

"Maybe not." The eyes track her fingers where they linger or follow red highlights across soft looking globes.

"They don't stay." She answers the question in those stares. "He's never left a scar. He really does know what he's doing."

The biggest snort yet bursts out. "It looks like it."

"I really did beg for it." She smiles a brilliant flash of teeth. "By the time he gets to where he stuffs his cock in me, I'll beg for anything he wants to do to me." A giggle escapes. "You just have no idea." The girlish tinkling becomes a throaty woman's punctuation. A salacious chuckle that drives home the very unchildish nature of the situation.

Her friend finally calms enough to sit down. "Maybe you better explain it to me because, honestly, it looks like he beat the shit out of you and if you are in a situation where you are telling yourself that you like it or deserve it then you are far worse off than I thought you ever could get." There is a long hesitation. " I really don't understand."

Her eyes move to the worst blotches at the top of the curve where the pile of breast arches far toward her face before arcing in on itself to the points of skin holding it onto the chest. The breasts are large and well formed and would be picture perfect without the crisscrossing of penalty and abuse. Her fingers unbutton the blouse her friend had caught her in the act of buttoning. Actually, she had stopped buttoning in order to savour the reminders he left for her. She was running her fingers over the top ones when her roommate burst in, catching her in the act of trying to hide them.

She undoes three buttons and opens the silk cover. Her friend is holding her breath as the fingers unclasp the lace of her bra and pulls aside all pretense of concealment. The nipples so obviously stand out that they look fake. Unbelievable that they could be so stiff without being manipulated.

"My nipples won't go down for days. If I see him again tomorrow or the next day it'll be weeks." She says as she catches her friend's eye.

"Geez."

"It's an amazing feeling." She gets a slow shake of the head.

"He likes them like this."

"Yeah. I'll bet." The tone is flat.

He sits up on her ass. She feels his hard length as he has to shift his hips to keep from being discomfortable. His hands slide all the way to her shoulders, dig in and move steadily down her spine vertebrae by single bone. She pooches her bottom out to him. A bucking kind of movement in slow motion. A little circle at the peak of the stretch and he reaches around to smack her bare flesh.

She thinks of how it's like he would treat a horse that doesn't move quickly enough or in the right way. It burns just a bit and sets juices flowing in a stream from her. His fingers, meanwhile, make it all the way down to the small of her back and outline her pelvis. His balls squash against her rounded buttocks and she feels the jerking pulse in a steady beat. He is so hard she wants only to reach down with her hand and stroke the stiffness root to tip. Wants to feel it throb as she slips it into her mouth.

When his hands slide up her back once more, shivers cover her. They push delicious electricity before them in waves of delight. She wants him. The puddle on the bed but a sample of her need.

His hands keep going up. Up over her shoulders to her scalp. The fingers dig into her skull and shoot sparks through her loosening brain.

He grabs a handful of her hair as he finishes and whispers in her ear. "You are not allowed to cum until I tell you."

The words send burning trills through her nerves.

"If you cum without permission, I will stop immediately so you only get a partial climax. You will be fucked in the ass without being allowed another orgasm. I'll fuck you until I've had enough, then I'll leave you without until the next time. Maybe I'll even jack myself off on your tits just for my own satisfaction. Then the next time, you'll be punished for your selfishness before you get to ever cum again."

The threats serve to heighten her senses. Suddenly she is on the verge of cumming where she was simply acutely aroused before. She doesn't know how he does it to her, but she moans in agony over her attempt to keep herself from building any nearer to a peak now forbidden to her. "Please." She gasps.

"If I have to tell you not to cum again, I will punish you now instead of waiting. You have been told and warned of the consequences."

The words bring her trepidation and something else. Anticipation. Hope. Need. Nearly every time they have been together, it is an adventure new to her.

"When have your nipples ever stood out like this. For days?"

The question catches her friend off guard, more even than the hand that moves the shirt completely open to reveal the nubs standing brilliant red and startlingly erect. Proud and confident. "Like me." She thinks fleetingly.

The eyes just stare. No longer hard or flashing. No longer stormy or glaring. The sight of those buds aching to be touched and begging for play is so completely at odds with the mesh of lines surrounding them that the effect is stunning.

"I'll bet." Is repeated in an astounded half whisper. It wouldn't be unreasonable to hear a low whistle of approval.

"He really is that good."

"Did you really beg?"

"Yes." She says with lust dripping from her lips. "He likes when I can't help myself. When I'm a fucking slut."

A gasp and her friend's eyes are no longer pretending to be shocked, but curious now and loaded with questions.

The kisses drizzle over her back, shoulder to spine to hip. Her muscles are limp before he finishes with hands and lips. An occasional scrape of teeth or nibble at a soft area, but mostly kisses. It's gone on so long, she is in that twilight when she would fade gently off to sleep if he but wrapped his arms around her or she would take him easily into her body and rouse to an ocean of passion from swells to crests and back to lapping wave.

He turns her over. Unties her legs one at a time and moves her to face him before retying them both to the footboard. She tingles from every pore and nerve knowing what comes next. She glances down involuntarily at the waving cock with the glistening tip. It's so hard and ready for her. She thinks of how it will feel in her hands or her mouth. Her tongue slips out over her lips and the greed must show on her face.

"You will suck my cock good."

"Yes. Please." She knows what is coming and wants it desperately. She loves to hear his moans and groans. To feel his cock harden and throb in her throat. His fingers move sedately down the front of her. Lightly trailing her breastbone.

He tugs lightly at her nipples and they are already firm. Standing out in their appreciation of his art. His hands. His mouth. His fingers pluck at them until they begin to feel as though they will never go down. The flat of his hand slides across her stomach and she sucks in her breath. She knows what comes next and the anticipation is a large part of the excitement. His fingers splay lower to her pubis and her mons and lower yet to her sopping mound.

When his finger slips over her entrance, shivers ripple through her. Not in, but just over the slippery lips until she presses at him trying to gain some purchase. At least enough to separate the delicate folds, but he lightens his touch until she can barely feel the skin to skin contact. She pants for more, but knows that he will draw it out until she screams. It doesn't matter that she has been through it or not. Whether she knows what is coming. He will still have his mastery over her senses.

His fingers group together. As one, they slide over the sensitive area of her soul. Soft and easy despite the callouses and tough hide, they set her groin aflame. Never pushing, even when she arches, present like a breath. His lips come to hers and send her flying into other worlds. Other times.

"It's not like he grabs me in the door, ties me up and whips me at the post before taking me down and fucking me until I beg for mercy, you know."

"He ties you up?" Her voice holds interest and something else. Something undefinable. More than curiosity. Desire maybe?

"I signed up for this, you know." She might as well tell it all. "I ran an ad looking for something like this. I'd been spanked before and there's this website..." Her words trail off in a wellspring of memories.

His lips tug at hers. His kisses drive her into a form of unconsciousness that she can only feel and never describe. Without thought and form, sparks eating her flesh from the inside out, legs to forehead. She can't move, she can't talk. She can only feel.

His teeth scrape across her soft mouth and his tongue outlines the insides of her lips. She breathes in gasps and pants and writhes in sinuous design. The cuffs that bind her to the head and foot boards clank and jangle in rhythmic distractions, but she has only enough mind to know where his lips are.

From her mouth, he slips silently and steadily to her breasts. As he plucks at each nipple, making stand out, he follows with a gentle twist and pinch. It only serves to heighten the sensation for her. Inexorably growing in intensity, he sucks at the aching nubs as they harden and wordlessly beg for more.

Suddenly, too soon, he leaves them and moves to her hips. Side to side, pulling at the skin he swings his head. When there is nowhere else that hasn't felt his breath, he taps at her clit with his tongue. Just the tip in a feathering touch. It drives her mad with need. She twists and pulls at the cuffs.

"Please." She isn't near orgasm or trying to stave it off, but she is quickly becoming desperate for a firmer touch. Something she can feel and move to.

Just when she can take no more, the tail of his belt snaps down onto her mons. The very top end of her clit and she flares in agony. He follows this with that firm licking she was writhing for. Aching to feel. Just as she slips into a guiding circle with her hips, he smacks down upon her once more in a sharp sting that brings tears into her eyes and a scream choking off in her throat. She is stunned.

"So he trolls these sites looking for women like you?"

"Actually, no. I don't think so. I think it was one of those happy circumstances that had us both on there at the same time."

"That doesn't look happy." A dry response.

"You know what I mean. I had no real idea what this was all about." A slight pause. "I had ideas. Fantasies, he calls them. But I didn't really know."