I was in the middle of a workout on our stationary bike at home when Khal stormed into the room. As he locked eyes with me, I noticed a fury behind his eyes, mixed with something I could not yet decipher. Whatever it was, I noted, it was seductive. I kept on riding.
Khal moved closer, not saying a word. I found his frustration intriguing. There was a tension emanating from him that was so thick, it made me sweat even more profusely than the workout itself. He had just returned from his morning run, and his grey sweats hung from his hips in a way that made me salivate.
A few more strides, and he would be within my reach. I maintained eye contact and kept on riding. In one swift move, he removed his vest and tossed it into the hamper in the far corner of the room. His chest was glistening with perspiration; his arm muscles were flexed. His stance and stride were strong and powerful. The room was brightly lit by the intruding rays of the sun. However, nature’s light seemed to neglect its duty as the room appeared to shrink, the closer he got.
Without breaking eye contact, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a most curious thing – two pieces of rope. He was now standing between the bike and the exercise instructor on the television screen. Without warning, he reached forward and skillfully confined my hands to the bike’s handlebars, fastening the ropes into bowline knots. ***What was he doing***? My mind was racing, in keen competition with my heart rate. I was confused, but the traitor between my legs ignored this.
When he had finished tying the knots, he tugged on the ends. The harshness against my skin, and the force with which he pulled, made a pool form between my thighs. I could not free myself. Momentarily, he left me to get my phone. After a few taps on its screen, he had accomplished what he set out to do. A video appeared on the television; it was cast from the phone. When I realized what was playing before me, I experienced a feeling that lies somewhere between shock and horror. I stopped pedaling.
It was the porn video I had masturbated to the night before. He had caught me, and I was going to pay for it. Khal broke the silence between us. ***“This is what you do when I fall asleep?”*** he asked. His tone of voice was menacing, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. He had moved to near the back of the bike. He grabbed my ass cheeks roughly, digging his fingers into my skin as he let go and then slapped each of them. It did not have the outcome he wanted, so he grabbed the thin material of my leggings and expertly ripped it apart. ***Slap!*** As his hand firmly connected with my right cheek, he asked in a domineering voice, ***“Is this what turns you on?”*** A small scream escaped from me, and I bit into my lower lip. ***“That’s right! You can try to fight it, but I am going to make you scream,”*** he assured me.
Again, he brought his hand down. This time with more force and on the left cheek. I cried out, and it urged him on even more. On the television screen, a woman in black lingerie and matching heels was spread eagle on the hood of a freshly waxed car. The head of another woman in similar attire was buried between her legs while a man with an athletic build was guiding the first one’s head up and down the length of his cock.
I looked back at Khal. From the look in his eyes, I knew he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in me to the hilt. But I had frustrated him, and he was going to exact his revenge on my vulnerable body. Almost as if on cue, he continued his discipline with an onslaught of full-palmed lashes. All my senses were heightened; my skin felt charged. It was too much and just enough at the same time.
Restrained. Spanked. Forced to watch the very thing that got me in trouble in the first place … I could feel a monster of an orgasm building low in my stomach. The flood waters were threatening to burst through the dam, and he hadn’t even entered me yet.
He grabbed my ponytail roughly and forced me to watch as the black stallion rammed the second woman from the back as she continued to lap at the other woman. I needed some relief. I could not move much and with my hands tied, the only thing I could do was resume pedaling. ***Ohh! Yes!*** The seat provided the right amount of pressure. Clearly, Khal had not accounted for this in his plan. The sight was too much for him; he groaned loudly. He moved to my side and dropped his sweatpants to his ankles. There, he yanked my head down to one side as he forced his hard cock in my mouth.
***“Yes! That’s it. Use me, Daddy****,”* I thought as he stirred the fire in me.
The harder he thrust, the harder I pedaled. The room was filled with the sights and sounds of unadulterated fucking – on the video and between us. Khal’s ever-growing cock kept sliding further and further down my throat. I needed to feel his hands on me. The bicycle seat was now covered and dripping with my juices. The strong scent of my sex seemed to intoxicate him. He was now giddy and animalistic.
Khal removed himself from my mouth suddenly and let go of my hair. Positioning himself behind me, he filled me in one swift, rough movement. We cried out in unison. It was a heady mixture of pleasure and pain. As he plunged his cock in search of my G-spot, I watched as one woman rode the man in cowgirl position. The other woman stood nearby, legs spread, rubbing her clit and squeezing her breasts.
With his running shoes still on, Khal had great traction. This ensured that his drilling was merciless, uninterrupted and rhythmic. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back toward his sweaty body. ***Yes! Deeper!*** I yelled.
The second female porn star was now on her back with her hands wrapped around the back of her knees. The male star had pulled her to the edge of the car. His strokes were slow and steady. Not to be left out, the first female star crawled seductively over the hood of the car to lick the second one’s clit as the man fervently rammed her.
That was the beginning of both our undoing. As my walls pulsated around Khal’s rod, time seemed to stop, and I experienced what could only be described as violent euphoria. This triggered Khal’s own climax, and as he kept plunging into me, he seemed to struggle deeply with something. His moans were a war between needing to fully release and dying to make the pleasure last longer. But alas, as my orgasm raged on, Khal lost all composure, and holding onto my hips for dear life, he filled me with his seed.
Completely spent, I stayed there relishing in the moment as Khal leaned forward and rested his forehead on my damp back. He was still inside me, and so many delicious thoughts crossed my mind as I felt his cum seeping out of me. The fact that he was still hard held much promise. There was absolutely no doubt that he would resume destroying me in a few moments.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/fit5kd/the_punishment_mf_oral_rough_bondage
This is very well written ?
Hot.
A couple things if you care. I can tie a bowline blindfolded behind my back, but I can’t think of a way one could use it or want to use it for an impromptu knot to restrain someone. Also, thought it was kind of weird that she was thinking about the traction of his shoes while she was being well fucked and dominated, but what do I know.