Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick [Str8] [nc] [bdsm]

The deafening sound of his belt cascaded through the land, a welt forming almost immediately as it crashed down upon my tender flesh. He loomed sadistically over my bound body, bound to the ground beneath him. Sharp pain sliced at my stomach like a thousand knives all cutting at once. My pained screams echoed, coming back to me like a boomerang, taunting me. Whilst the mid-September sun was not particularly warm, it was bright. I tried to look into the sun to blind me from this hell, to block this image from being forever engrained in my memory. I stared into the fiery orb so much so that my eyes became blurry and unfocused, bright spots burning their way into my soul, much like cue marks on motion picture film prints.

His next blow struck me right across the breasts, the edge of the belt grazing the bottom of my nipples, the metal buckle slamming into my ribcage, enticing a screech from my throat, my mouth so dry, lubricated only from the blood of my animalistic screams. His gravelly voice violated my ears as he spoke his venomous words, “You deserve to be hit. You’re just a plaything I can use to release my stress, and my seed.” He finished his monologue with two sharp, sudden hits to my upper thighs, welts appearing within seconds. The jolts of electricity surging through my veins sent me into convulsions, the bark and gravel beneath me tearing at my skin with each movement.

Each bitter blow struck not only my body, but my mind and soul. Each time he hit me, my walls crumbled, bit by bit, wearing me down to nothing but his slut, his toy, his property. His belt almost as black as my soul. Each welt was a mark of ownership, bringing me closer to destruction and dehumanisation.

His caustic cackling corroded my strength and will to fight. The deranged manner of his laugh penetrated deep within me, raping my insides more than his cock could ever achieve. I felt a harsh pressure on my pubis as he placed his work boot upon me – still damp from a fresh coat of polish – the way one does when marking a kill as theirs. In one split second movement he lifted his leg and stomped down hard, crushing me like a pathetic little bug. More welts formed as my tears flowed. My skin tickled and prickled deeply as a rivulet of blood ran down my ribs, to the earth beneath me. My body so deformed I resembled a wounded zebra.

He bent down and straddled me, further igniting the fiery surge of pain, like a match to petroleum. Through the numbness of my limbs and the waves of pain crashing throughout my torso, I could feel his muscles flexing against me, crushing me and pinning me to the rough ground. His hands traced my skin, groping their way up to my neck, outstretched hands clamping down like a vice, forcing the breath from me. His face just inches from mine, his eyes glinting with satisfaction and lust. “Oh but the fun is just beginning, girly, won’t you join me? Not like you have much of a choice.” His excitement dripping from both his voice and his cock.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/kugiyf/hit_me_with_your_rhythm_stick_str8_nc_bdsm