PART II: I [M37] Violently Fucked An Inexperienced [F34]Mormon Mom (pics inside!)[MF]

[Part I here](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/fm263p/i_m37_violently_fucked_an_inexperienced_mormon/)

Ok this took forever, and I legit have not proofread or edited it. Writing about it made me remember how fucking intense it was.

Also I guess deleted her old account this last year but she sent me some pictures yesterday for this post.

[https://imgur.com/a/ZhcApkN](https://imgur.com/a/ZhcApkN)

And just a couple more because TIDDDDDDDIES!

[https://imgur.com/a/Ik3wbSG](https://imgur.com/a/Ik3wbSG)

*I tear my mouth off of her and grab her by the hair, forcing her to kneel on the floor, her back pressed across the edge of the bed. I stand over her and her eyes look violent and I bring my hand across her face hard enough that it shocks her for a second before she inhales and smiles. “Did you think I’d fucking let you cum?!” I say as I grab my dick and smack it across her cheek. Across her mouth. And across her cheek again. She instinctively opens her mouth thinking I was going to put my cock into her, but all she gets is a mouthful of my saliva as I bring my face close to her and spit on her over and over again. I smear my hand across her wet mouth and lips. “You don’t get daddy’s cock yet! You’ve done nothing to fucking earn that!” and I grab her by her throat so she’s standing naked and wet in front of me. The back of her knees pressed against the edge of the bed. Her tits tight against my chest and my dick, throbbing and slick, sliding against the top of her pussy. “You’re about to earn it though,” as my hand firmly holds her throat and she smiles.*

There’s a vibration on the floor, and then her phone rings. Panic washes of her face as she clearly is freaking out, trying to squirm out of my grasp as the familiar five notes of the T-mobile jingle breaks the tension of the moment. I let go and she’s shaking her hands loose from behind her back as I step back from her and she rushes to her jean shorts lying on the floor and pulls her phone from her back pocket. She holds up an index finger, the terry clothe rope still looped around her wrist, simutanoulsy telling me to wait and not to talk. Time and space rushes back into room like a fucking flood that had been temporarily dammed by expectations and lust. She takes a deep breath, slides her finger across the phone and stares at her feet. I mindlessly reach for my dick.

*Heeeeeey*, her tone is nonchalant and flirty.

She keeps her eyes on her feet and forces a laugh. She’s clearly trying to keep her breathing steady.

*Just laying here in bed…*

She holds her index finger up to me again.

*No. I left plenty of food for him in his dish before I left. I’m sure he’ll be fine until tomorrow.*

She shifts on her feet.

*Me too!*

She brushes a strand of hair away from her face.

*See you tomorrow- Good night…*

She stares at her phone for a second and turns down the ringer and locks it and tosses on the floor on top of her hoody and looks up at me.

I’m not stupid enough to ask, nor do I really care, who that was. I mean, I know, but this isn’t my decision to make. The act has dropped for a second and I don’t really want to push past this point unless she’s really cool with things still. “Casey?” I question, “You good?” She runs her hands down her naked body like she’s smoothing a dress she is most definitely not wearing and does a little shimmy. She smiles. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” she says matter-of-factly. My dick is still surprisingly hard as I stroke it, staring at her naked body as she bends over to scratch her foot before quickly standing up-right, almost at attention. I take a deep breath and try to get my head back into it. Staying out of character I walk towards and run my hand up the rope around her wrist, gathering it in my hand until its pulled tight against her arm.

“Things are going to get a little intense and I’m going to use what just happened to punish you,” I say making sure we are still on the same page. She’s still shaking. Tiny, almost imperceptible, tremors. The potential for violence, controlled and mutually consented violence, hangs between us like a fucking lit bomb.

***The reaction begins in the*** [***amygdala***](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amygdala)***, which triggers a neural response in the*** [***hypothalamus***](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypothalamus)***.***

“I think I’m ok with that,” but there is the scratch of fear in her voice as she steps a little closer. Our bodies are almost touching and once again the silence feels heavy with anticipation, and before anything else can be said or done, before a muscle can twitch or resist both of my hands are around her neck. Violence and control. My face is almost pressed against hers and I’m walking her backwards towards the bed again and pushing her to her knees as we come closer to the floor together. She is kneeling for me, and I am crouching. The back of her head is pressed against the edge of the bed. Her green eyes seem like they are on fire again and she looks straight at me and rasps “green light” as she tries to smile. I push her body hard into the edge of the bed and our mouths are almost touching. Her eye’s are starting to water. “You stupid fucking cunt,” I whisper and I slightly loosen my grip , “you come into my room. You ask me to fuck you. And you can’t even turn off your fucking phone?!”

She doesn’t speak.

“Use. Your. Words. You silly bitch.”

***The initial reaction is followed by activation of the*** [***pituitary gland***](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pituitary_gland) ***and secretion of the hormone*** [***ACTH***](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adrenocorticotropic_hormone)***.The*** [***adrenal gland***](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adrenal_gland) ***is activated almost simultaneously, via the sympathetic nervous system, and releases the hormone*** [***epinephrine***](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epinephrine)***.***

She stutters for second, her face red, “daddy, I’m sorry…”

But I stand up and she stays there on here knees staring at me as I walk across the room and sit on the edge of the chair. “You stupid fuck-hole,” and getting into this head-space is always a little hard for me, “I don’t give a fuck if you’re sorry. Pick that belt up with your mouth. Crawl over to me.”

She reaches on to the bed next to her, but before she can grab it I demand she picks it up with her mouth and she does what I say and slowly begins awkwardly crawling across the floor. She’s clearly never crawled for anyone before, and certainly not with a letter belt in her mouth. I want to actually laugh because she is so bad at it. But I don’t, because once again, I’m not a dick and she’s really putting her heart into it. She settles between my legs and I tell her to kneel as I slowly slide the belt from between her teeth, a small string of spit runs from her lips to the shiny leash strap. She’s breathing heavy, her muscles are twitching, shaking, and her cheeks are flushed- waiting. Knowing that she’s about to be beat with a belt for the first time since she was a little girl in rural Alabama. Her body is telling her to run. To fight.

***Catecholamine hormones, such as*** [***adrenaline***](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epinephrine) ***(***[***epinephrine***](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epinephrine)***) or*** [***noradrenaline***](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noradrenaline) ***(norepinephrine), facilitate immediate physical reactions associated with a preparation for violent*** [***muscular***](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muscular) ***action***

I’m watching millenias of evolution peaking right here, in front of me, in this Hilton. This naked Mormon mom’s skin intermittently growing flush or pale as blood vessels contract or expand. Some woman on a savannah a hundred thousand years ago getting chased by some fucking lions or some shit responded faster than the other mom’s she was hanging out with. Her muscles twitched faster and the lions ate someone else. This naked Mormon mom, kneeling in front of me, knowing the belt will sting, it will bite, as her eyes start too dilate with fear. Her vision starts to narrow. A man stood his ground in some broke ass village on the Russian steppe, or The Rhineland and grabbed a sword and beat down a Hun or Mongol or a Roman because his muscles tightened quicker and when it was done he was a hero and fucked his way through every woman in the village. This naked Mormon mom, finally feeling for herself, that rush of epinephrine, that hit her the first time she flipped through Fifty Shades of Gray. Hiding it from her husband as she felt her pussy begin to drip. Her body doesn’t know she’s abusing this fine tuned evolutionary response because it’s literally making her feel high. Stealing these hits from her nervous system like a fucking junkie digging her fingernails into the bottom of the pipe. Her heart is pounding out of her chest. Guilt and fear and lust.

***In the context of the fight or flight response, emotional regulation is used proactively to avoid threats of stress or to control the level of emotional arousal.***

She’s been told her entire life that good girls don’t get beat with belts by strange men in strange hotel rooms. Good girls don’t feel feel the weave and the weft of dirty hotel carpet dig into, and then imprint onto, their soft cheeks as a man they just met cracks the stinging leather of his belt into their pale white asses. Over. And over. And over again. Good girls don’t feel the carpet growing damp with their spit and their pooling tears as they release a lifetime of repression, and expectations, and frustrations of having to be everything to everyone, to their kids, their husbands and boyfriends, moms and dads, bosses and employees- always. Always being everything. Good girls aren’t told they can let go of who they’ve been told they are, and what she should be. Entire cultures and industries dedicated to making good girls always feel like they are hanging on by their bloody and raw fingertips and still, still they aren’t doing enough.

*40 New Tricks To Please Your Man! 347 Ways To Cook Salmon So Your Kids and Husband Will Love It!!!1! 3568 Ways This Magazine or Instagram Account or Daytime Show Will Make You Feel Like A Failure! More Yoga! More Quinoa! More! MOAR MOAR!!!!*

The tears come from being able, even if it’s just for a fleeting hour or two, to just fucking let go. To let go of all it. To dig into the white hot iron core of who she is- her true fucking self- and hold that, and nothing else, as it burns and sears her hands, and this strange man with rough hands, fills her ears with the demeaning shit and imagery she had only imagined in her most desperate and secret fantasies.

I double the belt over several times so it’s more a crop than a strap and grab her by her hair and spit in her face. *You stupid bitch. Daddy doesn’t want to do this, but he has to.* She reaches up to wipe my spit off her face, but catches herself and locks her hands back behind her back as she struggles to keep her balance on her knees. My naked ass is on the edge of chair, my legs spread wide, and my smooth dick is hard enough to fucking use for a ring toss or some shit. While insults rain down on her she’s turned around so her face is pressed into the carpet, her back is arched, and her pale ass is pushing up towards me, almost pressing into my inner thighs and cock. I notice for the first time how her pussy perfectly smooth pussy is also perfectly pink and chubby. It’s a really nice looking pussy. I want to tell her how cute it is and maybe under different circumstances I would. I tell her she’s getting 10 lashes for wasting my time and the level of disrespect she showed (I mean I’m making this shit up, but it seems pretty apritarty and contrived to beat someone with a belt without a reason). I tell her she’s the dumbest most disrespectful bitch I’ve ever met. She’s just warm holes for her daddy. I tell her I wish her bishop could see this. If only her daddy and mommy back in Alabama knew what she was doing now. I tell her all of this as I run the edge of the belt over her pussy, her ass, her lower back. The smooth leather up the inside of her thighs. She shivers. I tell her to count. 10 lashes. I tell her to say thank you daddy each time the belt hits her and I start.

The belt cracks against against her smooth skin and as it recoils I can see the red stripe it’s left across- her pale skin is so sensitive. Her kneels almost buckle but she locks them and holds herself tight.

*One. Thank you daddy.*

I crack against her other cheek and a matching red stripe appears on her other cheek.

*Two. Thank you daddy.* But this time it’s slightly louder and through clenched teeth.

The belt cracks on her ass and each time she counts her voice is little louder. I can tell she’s gritting her teeth. Her body strains a little more and a small welt starts to rise from the chaos of red marks left on her ass. She is clearly soaked and aching to be filled and a translucent droplet, like a spiders silk, hangs delicately from the edge of her pussy. And then, as we are one or two strokes from finishing I can tell her body is shivering as she presses her face tighter against the carpet-her teeth tightly clenched. She’s sobbing. Silent sobs and her body is racked with them, but she doesn’t move and only pushes her ass higher into air. “Hey whoa,” I lean forward kneeling next to her, my face close to hers, “you ok?” She’s smiling as her body shakes and I’ve seen this before, maybe not this early, but this type of release. Tears are streaming her eyes and across her face. “Don’t stop,” she whispers and then says it more forcefully- almost desperately. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” She smiles and I smile and get behind her again. “Green light?” I ask and she rocks her as back towards me. “Yes. Yes of course. Green light. Green light!” she says in a rushed voice.

*Nine.* Her body is shaking and whats leaving her is coming from deep inside her. *Thank you daddy.*

*Ten.* And her body collapses in front of me. *Thank you daddy.*

Violence and control.

My dick is dripping pre-cum and she’s kneeling in front of me again. Hands on her knees. I let it slide. Her face is wet with tears and spit and red from being pressed into the floor. A tear still hangs at the edge of one her eyes, waiting for the weight of what she’s been holding inside to release a little more before it runs down her cheek. I wrap the belt around the back of her head and hold the ends of it with each hand so I can pull her face forward. She’s breathing heavy and I’m feeling a little overwhelmed as well, but I smirk quickly and she does the same and it feels like we can keep going. Her face, her open mouth, are an inch from dick. She focuses on it. Fixates on it. She’s in that space now, I know she is. It’s like she’s straining to keep herself from wrapping her mouth around me.”Beg for it,” I tell her. And she does exactly that. “You promise you’ll make daddy feel good?” and she tells me she promises. “And do anything daddy makes you do with that mouth?” I ask. “I promise daddy,” she whimpers and she’s rocking back in forth like she’s in fucking heat.

She can’t use her hands I use her mouth and her fucking throat like I bought it to break it. Spit and pre-cum stick to her face and my dick and my balls and my belt holds my thick cock against the the back of her throat until she starts slapping her thighs hard and shaking and I drop the belt and grab her head and shove her back but only long enough for her to take a gasping, desperate grasp at filing her lungs before he soaking mouth is jammed back into me again. Violence and control. It happens so fast and is so violent it catches the edge of her teeth and yank her head off me and without thinking bring my strong hand across her face, catching her cheek. She doesn’t recoil at fucking all but grits her teeth and shakes her head like she’s medieval sucubus haunting the dreams of a frustrated priest. He eyes are on fucking fire even as they water and her tears mix with her spit as I rub my hand across your face. God damn! I want to scream. I want to fuck her. I want to destroy her. I want to fucking break it. It’s primal. It’s all I fucking want. I wrap my arm almost completely around the back of her head and she is forced to gag and deal with me filling up her mouth and choking off her airway. I’m shaking. She’s shaking. The belt is in my hand again and I crack it against one of her tits. Green light? Green light! Spittle is dripping down my balls now and her face and my dick and my thighs are slick with what had been in her mouth, in her throat. And her hair is stuck to her face. And I can’t stop myself any more. Violence and control. And now just violence.

Her hair is in my hand and she is still on her hands and knees and drag her across the floor, face down, and she struggles to keep up with me while she crawls and I throw her on the bed and I’m standing there and she’s running her hands over her body, down her stomach, over her stretch marks, to her pussy and it makes me mad. Not in a role-play way, it’s moved past that at least for a moment, but I actually feel mad that she’d do this without asking. I grab the bottle of water behind me and pour it on her, on her face, into her open mouth, on to her body, squeezing it so the water rushes out faster, and she is sputtering and gags for a second and I throw the empty bottle at her and it bounces to the side. *Who the fuck do you think you are?! This is daddy’s body*! and I make her repeat it “who owns this body?!” I demand and she moans, like literally moans “daddy does. daddy owns this body!” and the Mormon mom is nowhere to be found. This beautiful blonde woman, laying her is fucking everything. My hands are all over her. All. Fucking. Over. Her. And I grab her, at her, and she’s on her stomach and I’m between her thighs, her ass and her pussy pushing off the soaked comforter.

The condom in the bathroom seems like it belongs to another place and uncrossable ocean away but I know I’m clean and all I want to do is be as deep as I can be in her. But fuck it. I stand up, and she tells me I dont need to, that she clean, but I tear into the wrapper and its tight around my dick and my hands are back on her, in her, they are everywhere and no where at once and I slide into her. She is tight and smooth and I gasp, before I regain myself. And destroy her. It’s a blur. Control and violence. Still nine months later as I’m trying to write this as specifically as I can, it’s still a blur. Images stand out like a random flash bulb popping in the darkness and freezing the frenzy before the scene darkens again. Her throat is my hand. My hands. Cock throbs in her mouth. In her pussy. She cums and cums again and again. And she slaps at me. Slaps me off her. Green light? Green light! Spit and sweat and our bodies are smooth and then the belt is wrapped around her neck or a thigh or her hands are tied together with it.

Like two celestial bodies caught in the gravity of galaxy destroying black hole, circling ever closer to each other and their own limits, searching for them in the darkness, but spiraling together into the abyss. Unsure what comes next. Is there a limit, or do you spiral eternally, until the bodies crash madly and ruinously into each other and nothing remains but a shadow and trace. *You seemed fun*, she says as she leans against the back of the elevator.

Control and violence. She fades out as I choke her and I spit on her as she comes back into the room. Spit and sweat and I empty another bottle of water on to her. Make her keep the water in her mouth and smack the shit out of her when she lets a droplet leak down her cheek. On the floor. Back on the bed. The condom is gone. Then reappears as I use it as a gag as I pin her head to the bed and fuck her. Over the bed. Bent over, her hips pushed towards me. Against the open winder her warm, slick body sliding across the glass. I make her spit and lick it off the window I pound in and out of her pussy. Control Spit runs down her pussy. It runs down her face. Her face is slammed into the bed over and over and over again as I jackhammer into her from behind.

She shivers, and gasps and slaps at my head as my fingers are buried in her pussy and my tongue strokes her clit, but I pin her by her thighs to the bed and she loses even the illusion of control and She chokes me as she rides me, and her hips slide easily against mine, my dick pushing into her fucking cervix and I’m fading into the bed before I smack her face. My dick between her tits. Into her pussy. Into her mouth. She’s naked on the bathroom floor and I’m standing over her. The floor is soaked. She just came again. I made her drink water out of one of the cups and then shoved her face under the faucet and now she’s on the slippery floor and I’m fucking her and our bodies are sliding across each other, across the filthy floor. She’s bracing herself with arms wrapped around the toilet, and then she’s not. I drag her across the floor, holding her wrist and her hair and she slide so easily. Then my cum is on her face and in her hair. She’s licking it off her fingers. The Mormon mom is fucking nowhere to be seen.

The light before the morning, that light thats is almost another shade of the night, creeps through the window with the sounds of the city waking up and I breath heavily and she is on the exposed mattress. The sheets and comforter are balled and bunched at the edge of the bed and hang limply to the floor. I look at her and smile and she smiles. I take a deep breath. *Holy shit.* She echos my tone and cadence. *Holy shit.*

I’ll probably never see her again. And that’s ok. She reads my stories.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/fow94m/part_ii_i_m37_violently_fucked_an_inexperienced