The storm outside the small restaurant blew with cold indifference, rattling the single-pane plexiglas window over the register, making the counter girl pull up the zipper on her faded sweatshirt with frayed sleeves.  The clock read 3:00 am, another long hour before closing.  Normally there was business at this hour in a small college mountain town, as the bars closed and kicked out a few hundred drunk and hungry students.  But the storm kept everyone cooped up in their dorm rooms, partying with whatever beer and cold frozen dinners they had on hand, and the tip jar remained too empty to buy enough gas to get her home.

       The only other employee still on shift was the cook. The counter girl had put it off all night, but now she decided it was time to ask him if she could borrow a few bucks for gas.  If not, then she’d have to sneak a ten from the register.  She’d rather not steal, especially since she liked her boss, but she had to get all the way home and then back to work in the morning somehow.

       Shelly stood up straight and stretched her back for a moment, before heading into the kitchen.  Joe was not at the stove stirring the soup.  In fact the flame was up too hot and the damn thing was burning.  She turned it off and sighed.  He was probably back in the store room getting high, or something.  She turned the corner and opened the rusted door.

       “Joe?” her tired voice called out, far more exhausted than any twenty-two year old woman should sound.  The only reply she heard was a shuffle.  She walked down the cramped aisle of the storage room to the back door, which was closed tight, and found him sitting on the two wooden steps that led up to it, legs sprawled wide, apron forming a hammock over his lap.

       He was leaning his head against the doorjamb, staring numbly at the floor, and tears were flowing freely and silently down his face.

       Now it wasn’t too often in her life that she’d seen a grown man cry; and even then it had always been a close relative, or in some circumstance that warranted it.  What disturbed her the most was his absolute inattempt to hide it, or bother to compose himself, or wipe the tears away, or move at all.

       “Joe, what the hell is wrong?” she asked, with obvious concern in her voice.  The thirty-five year old man moved his red eyes to look up at her, the lines on his face caused by more than just a couple decades of smoking.

       “Long, shitty story.” he said.  Her heart, usually tough as nails, felt immediate compassion.

       “Hey, I’m a pro when it comes to those.” she said, sitting down on a crate a few feet away.  “Spill away.”

       He took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh.

       “It’s my daughter’s birthday.” he said.  His frown was so deep that she figured the little girl must be dead, or something.

       “I didn’t know you had a kid.”

       He shut his eyes.

       “I do, somewhere.  I haven’t seen her since she was four.  She’ll be eight, now.”

       Shelly swallowed down the sour taste in her throat.

       “That sucks.”

       “Yeah.  Her mom’s a crazy bitch.  Didn’t like me taking our kid’s attention away from her, or whatever.  Just up and left, no goodbye, nothing.  I’ve been looking for her ever since.”

       Shelly didn’t know all that much about Joe, but they’d had a few conversations on other boring slow nights, and she knew he wasn’t from this town, as she wasn’t.

       “Where are you from?”

       “Upstate California, up in the hills.”

       This surprised her.

       “And you’re all the way here in New England?”

       He nodded and stared at his hands.

       “I’ve been traveling all over the country, trying to find her.  I’ve lived a hundred places in the last four years.”

       “Wow.”

       Shelly stared at the floor, leaning her elbows on her knees.

       “Hey, you know, at least you give a shit about her.  I mean, my parents never bothered to look for me, when I went missing.  I mean, at least you give a shit.”

       He tilted his face up to the ceiling, revealing his Adam’s apple in the pale yellow light, and laughed sarcastically.

       “My parents were happy as hell when I went missing.”

       Something stirred inside Shelly; a feeling that she’d only known a few times in her life, the feeling of connectedness whenever she found a person who she knew could really relate to her.  A feeling of kinship, of two-of-a-kind.

       “Oh, well, mine pretended to be upset, because whoever got to own me got to get the child support check.” she explained.

       “Oh, they were divorced, huh?” he asked.  “We didn’t have fancy things like that up in the hills.  My dad, whoever he was, I mean, the man who fucked my mom to make me, I never met him.  The guy who beat me as a kid, though, he was fucking happy when I disappeared.  Man, was I a thorn in his fat ass.”

       She laughed, a real, true laugh, and so did he, as they shared a joke that only abused kids would find funny.

       “Me, too.” she said.  “Only I didn’t have a father to worry about, just my ma.  My sister was her damn angel, and I was her fucking brat.  Oh, when she used to whack me I’d give her this wicked grin and say ‘Mmm, yeah, more, Ma, more.’  Freaked her out every fucking time.”

       They both laughed again, and she saw a change on Joe’s face as he realized, too, that they were the same.

       “You know, I used to dream about killing him.” he said. “Actually, I tried, a couple times.  I have this memory of when I was nine, standing at the foot of my parents’ bed with a knife in my hand, ready to do it.”

       Not a drop of shock or surprise flickered across her face.  She’d never done that herself, but she’d thought it enough times.  She knew the feeling.

       “What stopped you?” she asked, because she knew it wasn’t his conscience.

       He snorted.

       “Not some conscience.”

       She smiled

       “No shit.”

       He turned to look at her with dead, regretful eyes.

       “I was afraid.”

       “That you’d upset your mom?”

       He snorted.

       “No; that he’d wake up before I could finish, and kill me.”

       It was her turn to be surprised. 

       “Holy shit.”

       Joe shrugged.

       “Yeah.  Well.”

       She stared at the floor for a moment.

       “So how’d you get out?” she asked.

       He smiled.

       “I shacked up with a crazy bitch, got a two year culinary degree, and knocked her up.  How’d you get out?”

       She laughed.

       “I ran from my mom’s house to my dad’s, held out two months, stole his car and drove it up the interstate until I ran out of gas.”

       He chuckled.

       “And you wound up in this hellhole of a town?”

       “Yup.  Exit forty-six.”

       He looked into her eyes now, his brown ones still glistening from leftover tears.

       “No boyfriend, or nothing?” he asked, and her heart fluttered a bit, because he really was very good-looking, with toned cheeks covered in five o’clock shadow and his brown hair in a short crew-cut, and nice muscular arms which were always exposed by the old, stained t-shirts he wore.

       “Nope.  Boys tend not to stick around me for too long.”

       He smiled.

       “Why’s that?”

       The corner of her mouth upturned in a smirk.

       “Because I don’t play nice.”

       Joe shut his eyes and leaned the back of his head against the door.

       “Is that so?” he said, with not enough sound in his voice.

       “Oh, do you like that?” she asked.

       “I like all kinds of shit.”

       She inhaled sharply as her heart beat a little faster.

       “You just went from good-looking to damn hot.” she said.  He smiled and stared up at the ceiling.

       “Are you hitting on me?”

       “No, that implies some sort of game.  I don’t like games.  I’ll just tell you flat out; you’re hot, I’d fuck you.”

       He grunted and leaned forward, and looked down into her eyes.

       “I suppose I should ask what kind of price I’d be paying for that.”

       She smirked again, knowing full well that he did not mean money.  She let her eyes trace down his throat, over his neck and shoulders, and down to his right wrist.

       “Does bleeding bother you much?”

       He inhaled sharply and held his breath.

       “You weren’t kidding.”

       “Not at all, boy.”

       She was sure his ears turned a little red.  At least his deep frown was gone.

       “That’s a bit weird, you calling me that, me being ten years older than you.”

       She shrugged.

       “Nothing about me isn’t weird.”

       He stood up.

       “You know, I don’t have a ride home tonight.  I was gonna call a cab, but…”

       “I need gas money, my tank’s on E.” she interrupted.

       He reached down his hand towards her, and she took it as he pulled her to her feet.

       “Why don’t I pay you some gas money to drive me home?” he asked.

       She shrugged.

       “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

       He paused a moment, and she knew he was considering the other thing.

       “Well, I guess we should start cleaning up this place.”

       “I guess we should.”

       She turned and walked past him, and he heard her start to fill the mop bucket as he went back into the kitchen to dump the burnt soup.  It didn’t take long to clean the nearly spotless restaurant, though he got covered in grease from cleaning out the fryer trap and she was covered in garbage juice from dragging out the trash.  They finished cleaning ten minutes before closing, but he locked the doors anyway and they headed out the back to her car.

       “It’s a mess, sorry.” she said.

       “If it runs, it’s better than mine.” he said, as he got in and crushed a pile of fast-food containers under his feet.  He pulled the lever to slide the seat back to accommodate his longer legs.

       She started the car up and waited a moment for the transmission to calm down. 

       “Thing doesn’t go over forty; fourth gear is broken, sorry.” she said, not sounding apologetic at all.

       “Does the heat work?”

       “Yeah.”

       “Good enough for me.”

       She started it and pulled into the gas station.  She got out and knocked on the window, waking up the overnight clerk.  He yawned and she gave him the twenty, and went back to the pump.  She glanced at Joe through the window, and saw he was staring out the windshield, possibly ready to cry again.  She pulled her hood up as the bitter wind nipped at her ears, the eerie orange glow of the gas station lamps casting weird shadows at the edge of her vision.

       Shelly re-capped the gas tank and got back in, grateful that the car was now warm enough for heat.

       “So, where do you live?” she asked as she pulled out onto the highway.

       “ ’Bout forty miles.”

       “Shit, that’s far.”

       He stared out the windshield.

       “I know.”

       Silence ensued them, the windshield wipers making a forlorn, lonely sound as she drove through the snow.  She turned on the radio, and some obnoxious, screaming song came on.  She didn’t bother to change it, though she kept it low.  She glanced over at Joe a few times as she drove, at the miserable expression on his face, at his coatless, toned biceps, at the veins that ran down his inner arms to his wrists.

       “Hey.” she said.  He turned to look towards her, though he didn’t meet her gaze.

       “You’ll find her.” she said softly.

       He sighed heavily.

       “I already went everywhere I could think of that she coulda gone years ago.  Now I just go from town to town, collecting as many phone numbers from people as I meet, giving them all her picture, hoping.”

       She had to keep her eyes on the road, but she still reached out and put her hand over the back of his, and he lowered his head some more.

       “Like I said, she’s damn lucky just to have you looking.”

       He swallowed.

       “Yeah.”

       More silence between them fell, as the radio screamed some incomprehensible lyrics, but she left her hand over his as they drove, and he didn’t pull it away.

       “So,” he said.  “How much blood are we talking?”

       Her heart leapt with excitement and she knew her cheeks flushed.

       “Not all that much.  Don’t need much to make a mess.”

       “What else will you put me through?”

       The way he said it, she knew he wanted it. 

       “You like rough sex?” she asked plainly, just to be sure.

       “Yes.”

       She moaned softly and curled her fingers to dig her nails into the back of his hand, and he did not pull away.

       “Mmmm, yeah.” he said.  He leaned his head back again, exposing his throat to her once more, and she started to think he was doing it in order to flirt.

       “You know, you mighta told your mom you liked it to freak her out, but I really learned to like it.” he said.  She scraped her nails down the back of his hand and he hissed.

       “Yesss…” he said, and her heart raced.

       “Well, I learned to like dishing it out.” she answered.  “How much can you take?”

       He laughed sarcastically.

       “I can take anything.” he said.  “Anything to make me forget all this shit, just for a night.”

       “You’d better be sure you really mean anything.” she said. 

       He nodded and gave her a hard stare.

       “Yes, anything.  Shell, do to me whatever you want.  Just make me forget.”

       She grinned wickedly as they turned down his street.  She parked behind a little grocer, above which was his apartment.  They both got out and he led her up the wooden stairs to his tiny deck, and he fumbled with the keys in the dark before he got the door open.

       They stepped inside and she was greeted by a mess that was more than just a regular bachelor’s pad warranted.  The person who lived here was clearly barely holding himself together; dirty dishes littered everywhere, clothes thrown all over, a pile of coffee grinds mashed into the carpet at the entrance to the tiny kitchen.

       The couch was old and had several tears in the cushions, the TV was on an old, rickety ping-pong table which was littered with papers and empty frozen dinner platters.  A stack of empty pizza boxes was shoved in the corner.

       “Sorry it’s a mess…” he began.

       “Strip, bitch.” she said, and he froze, his ears burning as his heart tore in strange ways.

       “Alread…”

       “Scared?  Let me help you out.” she said, tossing her worn coat onto the floor.  She stood behind him and reached around his waist, unbuckling his belt.  He stood, frozen, as she slid it out through the loops.  He grew cold as he realized he did not hear it hit the floor.

       “You gonna make me use this already, our you gonna show me your naked ass?”

       Heart racing from fear, surprise, and lust, he reached down and pulled his shirt off over his head.  The apartment was cold and his nipples grew immediately hard.  He turned towards the thermostat by the door.

       “Let me just get the heat up…”

       Whack, across his back.  The sting was so familiar that he stopped moving, closed his eyes, and moaned.

       “Yes, that’s better.” she said, and whipped him again, and again, and again, and Joe found his mind already slipping as he crumpled down to his knees.  The assault stopped, but then her cold palms were on his shoulders, pushing him backward as the back of his head pressed against her crotch.  She pressed him hard against her body and slid her hands down his chest to his nipples, which she pinched.  Hard.

       He grunted.  She twisted.  He squeaked.

       She leaned down so that her lips brushed his ear as she whispered,

       “You aren’t going to care that you’re cold.”

       She sucked the top of his ear into her mouth and bit him.  He yelped.  She pulled back and her knee was against his back, as her hand twisted into his hair.

       “Down.” she said, and pushed with strong force.  Joe fell forward, keeping his face from slamming into the carpet with his hands, and then her knee was pressing between his shoulder blades, pinning him to the floor as she pulled his hair, forcing him to expose his throat.

       Shell clasped her free hand around his neck and pushed gently on his Adam’s apple.

       “I suggest you don’t talk unless I ask you a question, or you might choke.” she said.  She shrugged.  “Hell, I’ll probably choke you anyway.”

       He could not help the moan that escaped him, and the sound sent waves of pleasure through her, causing her to leak cum into her underpants. 

       “You’re my bitch now, all night, and maybe all day, until I am done with you, get it?”

       “Yes.” he whispered.

       “Say it.  Say you’re my bitch.”

       He swallowed as his breaths came fast and heavy, and she pushed her knee into his back, crushing his face into the dirty carpet.  Joe’s heart raced and he felt warmth stir in his balls.

       “I’m your bitch.” he said, and heat flowed into his ears and crotch as he felt the rush of her power.

       “That’s right.” she said, and she was off of him.  “Now get up and strip.”

       He quickly stood, his hands shaking as they went up to his fly and pulled it down, and she sat on the coffee table, on top of his porn magazines, and crossed her legs as if she was a lady.  She stared directly at his crotch as he pulled his jeans and briefs down in one motion, certain that she didn’t want him to waste time, then fumbled to get his shoes off.  She licked her lips as she stared at his flaccid clock.

       “That is just too small.” she said.  “We’ll have to make it grow.”  She reached down to her sneakers and started to unlace them, and Joe shivered, partially from the cold.  She stood up with the laces in her hand, and tied the ends together, making a longer cord.  She walked up to him and roughly grabbed his balls, making him jerk from surprise. 

       She stood up straight and slapped him roughly across the face.

       “Hold still, bitch.”

       Joe stared straight ahead and did not reply.  Shell reached down and ran her cold hands over his balls and soft penis, tapping them a few times to make them jiggle.  She then wrapped the end of the laces around the base of his balls, tying a knot after a few wraps.  She took a few steps back and tugged roughly.  Joe stumbled forward.

       “Perfect.” she said, and she turned and walked across the living room, tugging the leash roughly, forcing Joe to rush to keep up with her. 

       She helped herself around his apartment, turning on the light in his disaster of a bedroom.  She snorted at the mess, turned and left, all the while tugging roughly on the leash, making him grunt.  She found the bathroom and stepped in.  She yanked on the leash even though he was standing right next to her, and he grunted, and she laughed.

       She reached her end of the laces up to the faucet on the sink and wrapped it around, pulling the laces taught so that Joe had to stand right next to the counter, pushing his penis against it.  She tied a knot and then plucked the taught string.  He grunted.  She reached down between his legs, forcing him to move back and pull the string against his balls.  He winced as she grabbed his soft cock and lifted it so that it pointed straight up.  When her hand was gone his body pressed back against the counter, crushing his penis against the false stone countertop.  He grunted and grit his teeth.

       “Hmmm…” she said, and grabbed his wrists, pulling them together behind him.  He felt the leather of his own belt being wrapped tightly around his wrists and heard her buckle it closed.  She reached out and plucked the lace again.  He winced.  She laughed.

       “Perfect.” she said, and she turned on his shower. 

       She reached down and pulled her t-shirt over her head, her back to him, as he stared at her revealed flesh.  She reached behind herself and unclasped her worn bra, dropping it on top of the toilet tank, and then she undid the zipper of her jeans.  She stuck her ass out in a very sexual way as she slid her pants and underpants down, and then bent down to remove her shoes and socks.

       She turned around to face him, and he knew his mouth hung a little open as he stared at her sexy body, her perky breasts teasing him from over her flat stomach.  It had been awhile since he’d been with a woman, and a much longer while since he’d been with such a young woman.  Her round breasts stretched as she reached her hands up to her hair and pulled out the tie, letting it fall loose over her shoulders.  Though it was flat and tired, in the state he was in it looked sexy to him and he groaned.  She smiled and leaned forward, putting the tip of her nail under his chin.

       “Be good and I might let you touch.” she said, and then she turned and stepped into the shower.  She took his washcloth and rubbed his bar soap into it, then began to wash her body with it, slowly, dragging the cloth over her breasts and stomach and ass as she moved in ways that made his penis start to harden.  As it expanded it only pressed harder against the countertop, as he tried to shift back and felt the tug of the laces on his balls.  She made it no secret that she was aware of his predicament as she stared at his tip poking up above the counter, and she chuckled in a mocking way.

       Joe watched with jealousy as she reached down between her legs and started to play with her clit.  He moaned deeply and felt his penis expand more, causing him further discomfort.  She laughed and stuck her clean finger up inside her vagina, then stepped, dripping wet out of the steaming shower.  She took his hair in her free hand and gripped it tightly, forcing him to look at her, though that was already where he wanted to look.  She raised her cum-coated finger to his lips.

       “Taste.” she said, and he eagerly obeyed, sucking her finger into his mouth.  His nostrils flared as he tasted her and his penis pulsed, causing him to grunt.  He slid his tongue all around her finger, sucking it, kissing it.

       “Mmmm, you are good with that tongue.” she said.  “We’ll make good use of that later.”

       He grunted as his penis tried to expand.  She laughed and lowered her hand, and flicked the end of it with her finger.  He whimpered.

       She reached over and untied him from the faucet.  He sighed heavily with relief, and then she reached behind him and unbuckled the belt, freeing his hands.

       “Take a shower.” she said, and he sighed with relief.  He turned to get in.

       “Make the water as cold as it goes.” she said.  Joe froze for a moment, swallowed, and obeyed.  He stuck a hand into  it and yelped.

       “Geeze…” he said.

       Crack.  the belt stung against his ass.

       “Uhhh….” he grunted from the familiar pain.

       Crack, crack, crack, the assault was relentless and he stumbled into the tub, banging his knee on the faucet.

       “Owww…”

       “Mmmm…hurt boy…” she said, but he barely heard her as freezing cold water assaulted his body and all of his joints started to hurt.

       “Wash up nice and good.” she said.  “I don’t want to have to whip you for being dirty.  I want to whip you for no reason.”

       He whimpered and reached for the soapy washcloth she’d left.  He was perfectly aware of her eyes trained on him as he cleaned himself, and it was particularly embarrassing as he washed in the cracks and folds around his ass and balls, his penis now shrunken back to its small size from the frigid water.  He worked around the laces still wrapped around the base of his balls, and his body shivered uncontrollably.  He could not bring himself to put his head in the water to wash his short hair, and he found himself wishing she would force him to, but she did not.

       She reached behind him and shut off the water.  He stood, frozen and shivering, and she traced her eyes over his body, enjoying the goose bumps that covered his skin.  She let her eyes fall to his now shrunken penis and sighed.

       “Well, we’ll fix that when I feel like it.  Now where’s your towel?”

       “Bbbb...ack of the d…door.” he said, folding his arms across his chest to try to keep warm…

       Slap, across his face.

       “I don’t remember telling you to move.  Arms down, bitch.”

       He obeyed, the little precious heat he had concentrating between his legs as he watched her use his towel to dry herself off, again showing off her body to him, playing with his towel between her legs and up her ass crack, lifting her arms above her head to dry under them, making her breasts bounce as she dried under them.

       He groaned and shivered.

       Shell tossed the towel on top of the sink.  She stepped forward, grabbed his wet ball-leash, and yanked on it.  He stumbled out of the tub and faced her with his head lowered, staring at the floor, which really, really needed to be swept and washed.

       “Turn around, hands on the edge of the tub.”

       He obeyed, exposing his ass to her, which he knew would be smacked…

       She did land her palms on both of his cheeks once, but it wasn’t the spanking he expected.  Instead she spread his cheeks and ran her fingers down his ass crack, then slid her hand between his legs and gave his balls a good tug, then squeezed his penis in her palm and he yelped.

       She smacked his ass hard with her palm and he fell silent.

       “What makes you hard, fast, boy?” she asked, and he swallowed, as he knew he was going to reveal all of his deepest secrets to her tonight.

       “Tell me how shitty I am…”

       She smacked his ass.

       “I’m already doing that, you little fucker, what else?”

       She squeezed his small cock roughly in her hand, though it was starting to grow.  He grunted.

       “Really, you can whip me all night until I cry…”

       “That will happen, but what else?  Come on, tell me how to get to you.” she said, squeezing his balls now and he whimpered and fell forward, his knees collapsing onto the floor.  She felt him grow a little more as he grunted.

       His voice was already weak as heat flowed through him, making him forget already about his cold shower.  Realization that he had the opportunity to really have his darkest fantasies come true occurred to him.  He would probably never have a chance like this, ever again.

       “Tie me on the floor, kick me hard, bruise me, fuck me in the ass.” he said, and as he said the last part he felt his ears grow hot and his penis expanded.

       “Mmmm, now we’re talking.” she said, and she stroked his shaft, causing it to grow into full hardness as he moaned.  With her other hand she spanked his exposed ass, hard, reveling in the delicious sound of his flesh being smacked and the own sting that spread across her palm when she struck him.

       “Up.” she ordered, releasing him.  He rose and faced her.  She grabbed his leash and tugged, leading him down the short hall to his messy room.

       “Clear a space on the floor for you to lay while you’re beaten and fucked.” she said, and he nodded silently, his breaths coming heavy as lust pounded in his ears.  She walked over to his closet while he worked, rummaging through his things.  He heard a crash as a pile of objects fell over.

       “Humph.” she said, not finding whatever she was looking for, though he saw her pull out his only other belt and he worked faster.  She walked back towards the door, stepping around him, and vanished into the hall.  He hurriedly cleared the junk off of the floor, pushing most of it against the wall, as he heard her opening cabinets his tiny kitchen and then slamming them closed.  The sound of clattering pots reached his ears and true fear prickled through him and he fell to his knees and did not move. 

       Nothing had ever instilled fear into Joe as much as his mother going for a pot.  His stepfather was wicked with the belt, but those pots…

       He then heard her rummaging in his bathroom, opening and slamming closed his medicine cabinet door…

       When she returned she had an empty beer bottle in her hand, and it looked to him like she’d washed it.  In her other hand she held the tube of lube he used for masturbating, but the significance of this was overshadowed for him by the memory of clattering pots.

       “Oh, please, please, don’t hit me with the pot…” he said softly, his face flushing red as he’d meant to ask to be hit with the pot, but the line came out in the familiar way…

       “Huh.” she said, putting the beer bottle down on top of his dresser purposefully.  “We’ll see.”

       He grunted and lowered his head to the ground, burying his head under his hands.  She walked around him purposefully, her sexy legs disappearing inside her sneakers, which she had put back on, and when she reached his side,

       Thud, her foot came up into his stomach. 

       “Ugh!” Joe said, rolling onto his side and curling up, and she kicked him again, and again, slowly going harder and harder, and though his body was curled he kept his hands over his head, leaving himself exposed to her.

       “Little piece of shit, I tell you to clean the floor and all you do is move shit around!  This mess is disgusting, how am I supposed to work like this?”

       “I’m sorry, I don’t know, I’ll do better, I’ll fix it…”

       Shell pressed down with her foot on his stomach and forced him onto his back.  She then rested her foot back on the floor and lifted the other one on top of his throat.  She pressed very carefully, an amount that she was sure felt hard to him but would not actually hurt him.  This was the reason she was in charge; the reason she would always be in charge.  She could keep control, no matter the circumstances, and she could allow him to fall into whatever abyss he wanted to get lost in, and she would keep him safe. 

       Safe, of course, being a relative term, since she couldn’t wait to give him cuts and bruises.

       “Chances for fixing are over.  Stay right there.” she demanded, and walked back out.  He heard her rummaging again, and in a few moments she returned with two extension cords in her hands, a desk lamp that didn’t work, and the cord from his blinds cut at the end.  Well, it wasn’t like he ever pulled them up, anyway.

       She walked up to his head and put the bottom of her shoe on his face.

       “Turn.  Roll over, like a good boy.” she demanded, and he struggled to move the way she indicated, rolling over until his head was resting at the edge of his bed, his face resting on the carpet, the little fibers irritating his nipples as his chest rested on the floor.  She knelt down and wrapped the end of an extension cord around his wrist, several times, and Joe swallowed as he realized that she had done this before.  Probably many times.  She tied it off and stretched the other end to the leg of his bed, tying it off there.  His eyes grazed up her naked body as he got a full glimpse of her pussy when she stepped over him, and then she was behind him and out of his vision.  She wasn’t shaved clean, but her hairs were short, and he wondered if it had been a long time since she’d been with a man.

       He turned his face to watch her, his cheek pressed into the carpet.  She took the part of the desk lamp cord that was near the base and tied a knot around the other leg of his bed, close to the lamp’s base.  She then stretched the cord to his other wrist, wrapping her hand around his arm, pulling it roughly in the direction she wanted. 

       She tied the cord around his wrist, leaving him helplessly tied to the bed.  Joe’s heart raced as he felt the helplessness of his situation for the first time.  He had asked a few women to tie him to the bed before, but always in the pretense that it was a fun game, a little sexy, but just for play.  This was real.  He knew these knots were sound; he wasn’t going to wriggle out of them, they weren’t going to come loose.  And his captor would release him when she felt like it; which he knew wasn’t going to be soon.  He pulled on the restraints and found them secure, and the bed did not budge.  It was on wheels and he supposed he could have moved it if it wasn’t jammed up against the radiator; but jammed it was, at least on his right side. 

       “Ass up.” she commanded, and he struggled to get his legs underneath himself, without purchase from his arms as his hands were now spread as wide as the bed legs, which he could nearly grab, but not quite.  He still had to lean his head on the floor for balance, and then

       Wham.

       Her knee came up into his stomach and Joe cried out, and she snorted.

       “What a sissy, crying already.” she said, and she kneed him again, and again, careful not to hit his solar plexus because she didn’t desire to take the breath out of him.  He naturally curled his knees under himself for protection and she made a sound of disgust.

       She disappeared behind him and he felt a rough yank on his ankle, pulling his leg out straight.  His blood rushed with heat as she took direct control of his body.

       “Oh God, yes.” he said, and she smiled, though he couldn’t see, as she wrapped the second extension cord around his ankle and stretched it to the old, heavy oak dresser, wrapping the other end of the cord around the leg of it.  She pulled it taught, and Joe had three limbs immobilized, and then he felt the cord of the blinds wrapping around his last free ankle.  There was nothing there for her to tie it to, though, nothing was that way but the door and he didn’t see…

       He watched as she held the door halfway open and slid the cut end of the string through the crack, wrapping it around the hinge of the door itself, tying Joe to his apartment.

       He groaned at her ingenuity, and contracted the muscles in his limbs, feeling his helpless situation as he turned his face into the carpet so that he couldn’t see.  He didn’t want to see, and then,

       Crack, the belt across his back, and he groaned as his body jerked in surprise.  Crack, crack, crack, the familiar sting erased his thoughts as he surrendered to the fact that he could do nothing to end this situation.

       Shell swung the belt with heavy want, watching the boy’s delicious naked flesh jerk as she whipped him.  He fell flat to the carpet and stopped trying to move and she licked her lips and watched him surrender.  She held back nothing and whacked him as hard as she could, a thing she’d never done before, and it felt amazingly good.  She switched from his back to whipping his ass, and his grunts and whimpers increased, as did the cum that dripped from between her legs.

       “I’ll teach you what you’re worth, you little fucker.” she said.  “I give you a simple direction, ass in the air, and you can’t even do that right.  You’re gonna make me work to get what I want out of you, aren’t you?”

       He whimpered and jerked up off of the floor, and she needed to make sure she was getting it right, which was hard to do when he was face-down.  She couldn’t see the ready indicator built in to men to tell her whether he liked what was happening to him.  She’d have to fix that, but for now she was enjoying whipping his ass and she didn’t feel like stopping just yet.

       Joe’s flesh burned with heat.  The sting spread across his skin, and he found himself wishing he could raise his ass to her, to present her a better target, but each time he tried to move, the cords held him in place.  He moaned at his immobility, his erection growing underneath him, his penis being crushed under his body repeatedly as he jerked up and down from the lashes.

       Then she stopped.  Fear prickled through him as to what was coming next…

       She entangled her fingers in his hair and grabbed it tightly, her lips brushing against his ear.

       “Now you are going to give me your ass, in the air, the way I want.” she spat, and she pulled his hair for good measure before she rose and walked back to his ankles.  Joe felt the extension cord become slack and he was able to pull his knee under himself, before she tied it off to the dresser leg again.  She did the same to the blind cord, and now his ass was up but he could not pull his ankles any closer to himself.  He could not curl up; he could not defend…

       Smack, her hands on his ass, her palm rough and unforgiving.  Joe moaned, and now Shell could see the beauty of his full erection.  She reached under his stomach and flicked his penis roughly, and scoffed as it bounced.

       “Too damn small.” she said, and Joe whimpered, even as some part of his mind knew he really wasn’t all that…

       Smack, the sting of her palm across his ass shattered his thoughts, and then he was lost in the fire spreading across his already sensitive skin, fire spreading into his balls and penis as lust and want…

       Thud, her knee came up against his stomach and he grunted.  She backed up and kicked him, over and over, and he became very sore, the pain radiating through him and he grunted and whimpered after each blow.

       “Please stop, it’s enough…” he said, and she kicked him harder.

       “I’ll tell you when you’ve had enough.” she said, and she walked behind him and fear raced through Joe as there was nothing he could do to stop her…

       The top of her shoed foot whacked up between his legs, pain surging through his balls and up into his abdomen.  Joe’s voice betrayed him with a whimpering squeak, and she laughed, and kicked him again, and again, and tears sprung to his eyes and fell freely.

       “Aww, does that hurt?  Maybe you’re a man after all.” she said, and she kicked him one more time, and he cried out loudly and tried, desperately, to curl into a ball, but he could not.

       “Poor little bitch, thinks this is pain.” she said, and she turned and walked out of the door.  Joe remained as he was, trying to pull his knees in closer and unable, whimpering, when he heard the sound of clattering pots again.  She appeared in the door.

       “No!  No, mommy, please don’t, please…”

       Thud, the hard metal against his side.  Joe grunted heavily and collapsed to the floor.  The pot came down heavily on his back, his sides, his ass, especially his ass, and he tried to move, he tried to get away…

       “I told you up on all fours, bitch.”

       His body protested heavily as he shook, pulling his legs in, raising his ass up into the air, though he couldn’t raise his arms at all.  They were starting to feel strained…

       The pot whacked up against his stomach, over and over, no matter how he grunted.

       “Please, please stop…” he begged, he pleaded, and she laughed.

       “I was going easy on you, but you don’t seem to be learning your lesson.” she said, and the pot thudded on the carpet as she dropped it.

       Shell stood over him, putting her feet on either side of his legs, and ran her hands through his hair and down his back as he shuddered.

       “Mmmm…” she said.  “You’re gonna be so bruised and sore in the morning.”  She slid her hands over his ass and up through his legs, working the laces off from around his balls, and fear prickled through him as he was certain she wasn’t doing this to be kind.

       She reached her arms around his sides and grabbed his hard cock.  She teased it, stroking it, sliding both of her hands up and down it and he moaned.

       “Oh, I’ll bet you like that.” she mocked.  “Mmm, yes, bitch, get hard for me, get hard so I can punish you properly.”

       His blood burned like fire as she wrapped the laces around his now fully hard penis, just under the head, and then pulled the ends around his waist tying them at his back.  His cock was now pressed against his stomach, tied in place, and she moved from over him and picked up the pot.

       “No…”

       “Oh, yes.” she said, with an evil smirk, and the pot came up and whacked his cock, and Joe jerked and collapsed on the floor for defense…

       She smacked his ass with her hand.

       “I told you to get up!”

       “Please, I…I can’t, I can’t…”

       “Up!” she said, smacking his ass again, and he tried, but at the thought of his cock getting whacked, he decided he preferred a spanking on his ass, so he stayed where he was.  It was a foolish decision.

       Shell rose to her feet and started to kick him in the sides again, much harder than before, the toe of her sneaker jamming between his flesh and the carpet.

       “Ugh, ugh, ugh…” he grunted, the assault of pain familiar, and he didn’t want her to stop, he belonged like this, he deserved this…        

       Wham.  Joe felt a kick to his face.  It jolted him out of his stupor and he cried out.  Tears freely flowed from his eyes and he sobbed as his cock became rigidly hard, though Shelly couldn’t see that, crushed as it was beneath him.

       “Do you need another one?" she spat, and he gave her a defiant glare as he watched her foot retract and felt the pain of being kicked in the face again.  The metallic scent of blood filled his nose as he felt the warm liquid start to leak out, and he wasn’t sure he could take another one.  So he forced his legs under himself and lifted his ass back into the air.

       “That’s better.” she said, and then the pot was back in her hands, and she swung it upwards to whack his tied penis again.  Now she could see how hard it was, she knew how much he liked this, but still he lacked the strength, or willpower, to keep himself up.  He collapsed onto his stomach to protect his swollen cock.

       “That’s it!” she shouted, throwing the pot down with a loud clatter as it fell against the wall.  Joe shuddered with fear and excitement as she stormed out of the room, and returned with his little microwave in her hands, the cheap thing just barely big enough to fit one plate of food.  She set it on the ground next to him, reached behind his ass and grabbed his balls.  She squeezed hard, and he cried out.  She pulled upwards, and he obeyed helplessly, rising to his knees once again, as she shoved the microwave under him and he rested his stomach on it.

       “There, that should do it.  Now don’t try that again.” she said, and now she stood behind him and slid the pot between his legs, coming up quickly as the handle also whacked his balls.

       “Argh!” he said, through gritted teeth, as the blood from his nose dripped into his mouth. He twitched and his knees gave out, but the microwave held him up enough.

       She laughed.

       “Now we’re talking!” she brought it up to whack him again and again, until he truly struggled against his bonds, moving one corner of the bed a few inches in his futile struggle.  She laughed.

       “Oh, honey, it’s only just starting.” she replied, and the torment stopped.  She stood over him, behind him again, and reached her hands around his sides to grab his penis.  It was only at half-mast now, and she stroked it, and rubbed it, and teased it and pumped it until it was hard to her satisfaction, and then she was gone.

       She reached up to his nightstand and grabbed something off of it that he hadn’t seen her bring in…

       Smack, the metal spatula whacked against his cock with a new sting.  Joe’s voice screamed, and she laughed and hit him relentlessly, up and down his length, then concentrating on the tip until tears poured from his eyes and he struggled, unable to move, unable to escape.

       “Please stop, please stop…” he pleaded, and she laughed.

       “Whatever for?  This is so much fun.” she said, and she did not let up on her assault, until Joe struggled so much he really did succeed in sliding the bed a few inches.  All that accomplished was to cause his back to bend in a strange way, but she stopped her assault.

       She stood over him once more, running her fingers through his hair, tracing his back with her palms.

       “Mmmm….I’ll bet you think you’ve had enough, bitch.” she said.  Joe whimpered.  “Oh, but now I’m going to show you just how mine you are.”

       He heard her pick up the beer bottle, and heard her squeezing lubricant onto it, and then her left hand was on his ass as the cool mouth of the bottle was up against his asshole.  He whimpered.

       “Ever had this happen to you before, bitch?” she asked.

       “No…” he whimpered.

       “Mmm, I get to take your virginity?” she said, her voice cruelly enjoying his fear as she pushed the mouth of the bottle against his anus.  He whimpered, then cried out as she twisted and wriggled it in, forcing his sphincter open.

       “It hurts less if you relax, not that I care what hurts you less.” she said.  He tried, but all of his muscles were tense as he was invaded by the smooth glass.  Shell worked until the lip of the bottle was in, and then she slid it slowly and smoothly up, and Joe’s body twitched and his voice whimpered and cried out.  Heat surged through her as her left hand dug her nails into his ass cheek, and she closed her eyes for a moment just to listen to him, to savor the moment before she pushed in a little further.

       “Ghaaa!” Joe shouted as his eyes flew open wide, and she knew she’d found his prostate, and then she pushed a little further as the base of the bottle came flush against his ass.

       “Mmmm, oh, you’re going to like it, honey.” she said in a degrading tone, and she slowly started to slide the bottle back out, going about halfway before she pushed it back in again.  Joe writhed and rubbed his face against the carpet, and she dug her nails deeper into his ass to remind him to hold still.        

       She moved the bottle in and out, slowly moving it further out each time before shoving it back in.  Joe’s cries and whimpers started to fade as he got used to the sensation, but even as he grit his teeth he started to moan.

       “Mmmm, yes, that’s it.  Just relax and take it.” she said, and then he did, the pleasure of his sensitive prostate being rubbed over and over taking him past the pain of his stretched asshole.

       “Oh, ohhhhh…” he said, and she laughed softly, moving in a steady rhythm, fucking him with the bottle, teasing him as she reached down to feel his tied cock throb.

       “Oh, please, oh please make me cum…” he said, and she laughed softly as she continued to fuck him with the bottle and stroke his hard penis.

       “We’re not nearly up to that.” she said.  “Only good boys get to cum, and so far, you’ve been very, very bad.”

       “Ohhh….” was all he could say, and she laughed, and fucked him with the bottle for a few more minutes until her arm grew tired.

       “Okay, that’s enough for you.” she said, and she slowly pulled the bottle out.  Joe grit his teeth when the mouth exited him and he whimpered again.  Shell got up and carried the shit-covered bottle into the kitchen and dumped it in the sink.  She would have put it in the trash, but it was full.  She shrugged.  It would be a nice reminder for him in the morning.

       She walked back into the room to see him laying like a pile of jelly, his body mush as the tiny microwave held his stomach up, the blood that had dripped from his nose now drying on his face.

       She removed her shoes and knelt by his head, brushing his hair affectionately now.

       “Did you enjoy that?”

       He couldn’t look at her; he kept his head turned away.  His ears flamed with heat, lust, and embarrassment.

       “Ohhhh…” he said.  “Yes, thank you…”

       “Good.” she said.  “Now you will give me what I want.”

       Her voice was low and menacing.

       Joe swallowed hard, and had he not been so turned on he would have rightly refused.  But he was hot, his cock was hard, he wanted to have sex.  He would pay the price to get it tonight, especially after the amazingness of what she had done to him.

       “Let’s get you sunny-side up.” she said, and he felt the cords around his feet become slack as she untied him from the dresser and the door.  She then undid the knots that secured his extension cords to the bed legs, and he gratefully pushed his arms under himself into a true dog position.  He groaned as his elbows and shoulders protested.  She pulled the microwave away and affectionately rubbed his ass, also making sure that the lace which kept his cock tied to his stomach was secure.  She gave his ass one last smack before it would become hidden underneath him.

       “Okay, on your back.” she said, and Joe eased his sore body over until he lay face-up, stretching out his arms and legs without being told to.

       “Mmmm.” Shell said, re-tying the knots to the bed, dresser, and door.  “Try to move.”

       He tried.  He wasn’t going anywhere. 

       “Beautiful.” she said.  “Very sexy.”

       She let her eyes roam up and down his body, savoring his muscles, his stretched chest, his exposed penis and hard nipples.  Lastly she gazed at his face, the sight of the blood trails from his nose making her hottest of all.

       “Mmmm, how to begin…”

       She left him there again, making a fair amount of racket as she rifled through his belongings, opening drawers and cabinets as she searched for whatever it was she wanted.  When she returned she had a plastic shopping bag full of items that he couldn’t discern well before she set the bag on top of the bed, out of his view.

       First, she produced a pair of black binder clips.  She gave him a lustful smirk and licked her lips as she sat on his stomach and traced a clip along his chest, up to his nipple.  He remained silent and still as she pinched his flesh and clipped him, and then he writhed and screamed through gritted teeth.

       Then she did the other one.

       “Oh, God!” he shouted, and she giggled and flicked them while he panted under her.  “Holy shit, that fucking hurts!  Shell, please take them off…”

       She reached behind her, felt for his cock, and found it rock-hard.

       “No.” she said, and she got up and he heard the bag rustle over his panting as she produced a third one.  He watched in horrified terror as she traced it down his stomach, down, down, to the tip of his penis, still tied tightly against his abdomen.

       “No! No, no no no no…” his desperate voice cried, and she smiled evilly.

       “If you want to be released, just say so.  Just say ‘I’m done having sex now.’ And I’ll stop everything and let you go, and I’ll go home.”

       He panted and stared at the ceiling as he attempted to contemplate these directions, when she started rubbing her palm along his cock, making him lose all ability to think.

       “Of course, I don’t want to let you go…” she said, and she crushed his penis to his abdomen and clipped on the third clip to the sensitive skin of his tip.

       Joe’s voice screamed out loudly through the apartment as he writhed against his bonds, jerking the free end of the bed, giving him a bit of slack in his right arm and leg.  Shell glared at the bed angrily, got up, and returned with a towel.  She roughly shoved the bed back where it was and jammed the towel under the wheel, keeping it in place.  Joe pulled again and he went nowhere.

       “That’s better.  Now, how are you doing?” she asked, turning to look into his face, studying him intently as she watched the tears roll down.

       “It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts…”

       She smirked.

       “I’ll bet it does.”

       She stepped over him with her naked body and rummaged through the bag once more, and he was terrified of more clips.  If she produced more of those things, he was going to give up.  He couldn’t take it.  He’d had a nice night so far, and that would have to be enough.

       Instead, she revealed a bottle of rubbing alcohol, paper towels, and a steak knife.  She passed all of the objects in front of his face, so he could see them clearly, before she set them on the bed.

       Joe’s nipples and penis started to throb impossibly painfully.  He writhed.

       “You have to stop that.” she said.  She rose, leaving a string of cum from her pussy to his stomach, and picked up his belt.  He braced himself for another whipping- at least he knew he could take that- but instead, she leaned down again and wrapped the belt around his throat.  Joe whimpered as she pulled it tight against his skin and the picked up the knife off the bed.  With it she worked through the leather to poke a new hole, which she buckled, leaving him feeling constricted but still able to breathe just fine.  She set the  knife back on the bed and took the long part of the belt in her hand.  She looped it around the bottom of the bed frame, jamming it under the box spring, leaving him no slack to move left or right, slide up or down.  He could barely rest his head on the floor, and now his view of her was obstructed by the leather rising in front of his face.

       “Maybe you will stay still, now.” she said as she knelt beside him and unclipped his nipples.  The blood rushed into them and made him scream.  He did his best not to move.

       “Poor bitch thinks this is pain.” she said, and she leaned behind her to unclip the one on his penis.  Joe could not help writhing under her, and she laughed, and tossed her instruments of torture up onto the bed.

       Then he felt wetness on his chest.  He smelled rubbing alcohol.  He could lift his head easily and he did so, to watch her rubbing his skin with the wet paper towel, and then wipe the knife with the alcohol, too.  She placed the point of the blade on his skin, and every muscle he had tensed.  How deep would she cut him?  Did she know what she was doing?  How much did he really know this girl, who he’d worked with for just a few months?  Would she kill him?  How stupid was he?

       “Now don’t move.  You really, really don’t want to move, now.” she said.  She dragged the tip upwards lightly, leaving a faint scratch on his skin, up over his nipple to the top of his pectoral muscle and pressed.

       Joe felt his skin getting cut.  He felt blood start to drip down his side, as she carefully traced around his nipple and down his chest.  It didn’t feel very deep.  This pain was certainly more bearable than those horrible clips.  Compared to that, he didn’t mind this.  He didn’t…

       “Yeeaaagh!”

       The clip was back on his penis somehow, and he forgot all about the cut on his chest.  He bucked and writhed, and she moaned, watching him shudder as the red rivulets spread down his side.  She replaced the clips on his nipples, too, and he screamed and panted and jerked some more, the pain worse than before as he was sensitive, now.  She glanced down at his penis and saw it was shrunken, and sighed, because that always happened at this part.  But Joe was still taking it like a man, as far as she was concerned; he was not asking to be released, he was not even pleading for it to stop.

       “Shhhhh…” she said, taking the clips off again, and he stopped moving and only cried.

       “When the clips are on, you’re safe from the knife.  When you’re being cut, you’re safe from the clips.” she said, and he felt alcohol on his stomach now and seconds later the blade was slicing his skin roughly, oh this was going to hurt for weeks, he wasn’t going to be able to take a proper shower for who knew how long…

       She stopped cutting him, this new slice down his right side now, and then he screamed as the clip on his penis, then nipples, returned.

       “Take it off take it off take it off!” he shouted.

       “If you’re not wearing clips then you have to be cut.” she said.

       “Then cut me!  Just take it off, cut me!”

       Shell’s eyes fell halfway closed and her mouth watered as he screamed the words she was dying to hear.  She moaned deeply in her throat and removed the clips, rubbing the alcohol onto Joe’s inner thigh as she let her eyes roam over his bloody and sweating body.  She rubbed the alcohol all over his balls, and his penis too, just to see what he would do.

       He remained perfectly, beautifully still.

       She grinned and set the tip of the blade against his thigh and sliced, truly not very deep, but deep enough so that the blood oozed out of the cut and started to drip down his leg.  His carpet was ruined, but it had been old and disgusting anyway.  She slowly slid the blade up towards his balls, closer, closer, eyeing him, seeing what he would do.  He whimpered weakly and remained absolutely still, and for a moment she considered the unthinkable.  But no; the skin of the scrotum was far too thin.  She feared puncturing right through it.  She stopped the slice about two inches below the top of his leg, and she heard his deep sigh of relief.

        She stood up to admire her work.  Never before had a lover let her finish a masterpiece like this.  She let the image burn into her memory for as long as she could, watching the sexy, tied, bloody boy breathe heavily beneath her.  Then her want overtook her.

       Joe’s poor, hurting, deflated penis suddenly felt a new sensation that was so unfamiliar to his situation that it took him a moment to register that it was her tongue.  He moaned deeply as he felt her breath flow over his balls, and it wasn’t long before he started to grow with want again.  She worked her mouth and lips and tongue over him expertly, sucking his tip into her mouth and then deep into her throat, teasing him, making him hungry for sex.  When she had him hard and purple again, she stopped, and he whimpered.

       “Oh please, oh please don’t stop…”

       “Oh, did you want to go off from a blow job?  Cause I was going to fuck you.”

       He gasped and rose his hips off the floor, and she laughed.

       “I’m sorry; yes, sex please.”

       “Sure.  Just one problem; I haven’t cummed yet, you just won’t fit.”

       His heart raced faster.  Sex was closer now, if she was wanting to cum…

       “I’ll be right back.”

       Icy fear prickled through him as he wondered what in hell would make this sadistic woman cum.  She was gone a longer while this time, and she didn’t make much noise, though he thought he heard the sink in the kitchen running.  He could do nothing but lay there and feel the blood drip down his sides.  He raised his head to look at himself.  He was a mess, covered in drips of blood everywhere, ruining his carpet.  It was already starting to clot, though, and he realized with relief that the cuts weren’t deep, and they weren’t as long as he’d originally thought, either.  Each one was maybe four inches, and that was all.

       He heard her bare footsteps coming up the hallway.  He froze.  He peered at her from around the belt that obstructed his view and saw she was holding the pot.  And it was steaming.  He turned completely pale.

       She knelt on the floor beside him and affectionately stroked his hair.

       “I’m gonna give you the option to skip this one, if you want.  We can stop here, you can suck my clit, and I’ll fuck you.” she said softly.  Her eyes seemed dazed and dreamy as she glanced at the pot of steaming water, which he guess had only just been boiling on the stove.

       Joe looked at her longing face and saw himself.  She, too, wanted a thing that she was sure she’d never have.  She’d given him his.  She’d kicked him and beat him and fucked his ass and made him feel like shit like he’d wanted.  Granted, he was sure she’d liked doing it, but still.  He owed her.  And he knew he could take it.  He knew he could.

       “Do it.” he said.

       Shell turned her face to stare at his with surprise.  The conviction with which he said it was unwavering.  His mind was set.  And she wasn’t going to give him a second chance to back out.

       She rose to her feet and lifted the pot, desire coursing through her veins…

       “Kick me first.” he said.  “Fucking hard, tell me what a loser I am, make me want it…”

       Her foot slammed into his ribs and he grunted.

       “Damn stupid boy, always talking, always wanting things.  You can never just take it like a good boy; you always have to complain, always whining, always whimpering.” she said, her kicks making his body jerk to the right, pulling on the belt around his neck, pulling on the cords around his limbs.  He surrendered to the sensation; he stopped fighting against it and let himself feel how turned on it made him.  He instead allowed himself to want the sexy, naked woman that abused him and he felt amazing want as Shell knew exactly what to say.

       “Such a little fucker.” she spat.  “Doesn’t seem to know what it means to be my little bitch.  You don’t have a say.  You don’t have an opinion.  No one cares what you think, no one cares what you feel, little bitch.”

       Joe grit his teeth, wincing with each blow, unable to be quiet as the air rushed from his lungs as she kicked his ribs and side.  She then walked around to stand between his legs, and when her foot kicked his balls he cried; she did it three times before she stopped and he tried, desperately, to pull in his limbs to protect himself.  He could move nothing, and she smiled evilly as she saw his hard, purple cock.

       “You’re gonna pay for your disobedience, you little shit.” she said.  “Maybe this will teach you a lesson.”

       And she poured the water onto his chest.  The cut was a knife of fire in him, and he was already screaming as loud as he could before the hot water hit the second slice on his side, and he was left with no way to express the increase of intensity.  She then backed up and the hot water scalded his penis, his balls, and the cut on his inner thigh, and the searing pain seemed to last forever as he ran out of breath, paused in his scream, and then started again.

       Shell’s heart raced with fury as the sexiest sound she’d ever heard came out of Joe.  She had always been turned on by the sound of a man screaming; hence her collection of heavy metal and emo music, but this was different.  He was actually in pain, his screams were real, but he wasn’t in any true physical danger, so the usual guilt that came along with her liking the scream wasn’t there.  She allowed herself to fully enjoy it as she watched the water wash his blood clots away and he started to bleed again, blood dripping onto the now soaking wet carpet.  Her knees grew weak with want and as the pot ran out, she dropped it weakly to the floor and fell to her knees, her body hovering over him.  She needed to cum.  Now.

       The pain Joe felt continued for what felt like an eternity after the water stopped.  He panted heavily, his muscles exhausted from tension, his voice hoarse, his throat raw.  He didn’t even notice at first that his wrist cords were given slack.  He barely felt the playful scratches she left down his arms with her nails.  He hadn’t even realized anything was going on until the belt was un-looped from around the bed frame and his makeshift collar was yanked upward roughly.

       A strangled yelp came out of his lips and he heard her moan, very deeply. 

       “Slide down, bitch.”

       He was still lost in burning pain.  It was fading, but not yet enough for him to really think.  The second yank on his collar was rougher.  It pulled him downward.  He contracted his knees and slid down in obedience to it, the wet carpet squishing under him.  He had no willpower left of his own.  He could only obey.

       Her pussy appeared over his face.  He smelled her cum.

       “Get to work with that tongue, boy.” she commanded.  He wasn’t quick enough.  A slap stung him across the cut by his left nipple.  He cried out.

       “Now!”

       Joe lifted his face quickly and began to lick, and he heard her moan.

       “Oh, yes, that’s it.  Good little bitch.”

       He decided that he really, really liked being called that.  He started to forget about his pain.  Her cum was delicious.  It had been a long time since he’d tasted a woman.  He slid his tongue over her clit and she groaned.  He moaned with excitement and felt his erection start to return.  He sucked her.  She reached down and pinched his nipples, and that was nothing compared to those clips.  He liked it.  He moaned.

       Shell looked down over the sweet boy body she had mangled.  Some faint bruises were starting to show on Joe’s skin from where she had assaulted him with her shoes and the pot.  The blood ran in sexy, watery rivers down his sides and thigh, and she leaned forward to grab the skin of his stomach in her hands, squeezing it tightly, digging her nails into him. 

       As the pleasure built up in her clitoris she squeezed him harder with her nails, and he licked harder.  She started to rock back and forth to increase the sensation, moaning more deeply as she closed her eyes with pleasure.  When she orgasmed she squeezed his head with her thighs, crushing him between them, suffocating him for a moment with her pussy until she lifted and he gasped for air.

       “You’re a useful little bitch after all.” she said, walking her fingers down his stomach to the tip of his penis, which she began to play with.  He shuddered with want as she leaned forward and kissed it.  She reached for the knife lying on the floor and slowly dragged the back part of the blade up his penis, and he whimpered.  But then she only slid the blade under the shoe lace and cut him free, tossing the knife up onto the bed, far away.

       Shell massaged his cock with her hands, sending waves of unhindered pleasure through his pelvis.  She spread his pre-cum down his shaft, squeezing him, pumping him a little, and then massaging him slowly again.  Her teasing made him moan and he started to thrust against her hand, desperate for attention, desperate to cum.

       “Mmmm, yes, oh I’ll bet you like that, you little slut.  Come on, that’s it,  I need you hard, bitch.”

       Her words caused pleasure to pulse through him and she laughed in a mocking way when his cock throbbed, and that only made him hotter.

       “Oh yeah, you can’t wait for me to take you, can you, you little slut?”

       Her pussy left his vision.  She turned around and his heart flew with excitement.  She hovered her crotch over his penis and he automatically bent his knees some more, to give himself purchase on the floor so he could thrust.  She gave a low, mocking laugh.

       “Such a slut.” she said, and she flicked the end of his cock.  He yelped.

       “I want you to hurt when I take you…hmmm…”

       She let her eyes roam over his body, lingering on the cuts, pausing on the newly forming bruises.  She got up and reached for something on the bed.  She showed him the clips.  He winced.

       “Oh, yes, this is perfect.” she said.

       “Please no…” his voice was weak.

       “Mmm, I love when you beg for mercy.  Do it again.”

       “Please, please no…” she squeezed them open and slowly lowered them to his chest.  Joe’s cords had slack in them.  He could have moved.

       He didn’t.

       She clipped them onto the tips of his nipples and he yelped, though compared to what he had felt from the water, this was bearable.

       “Mmmm, so sexy.” she said, as she slid her hands down his chest, leaving a trail of blood from his upper cut down his stomach.  It was already starting to clot again.  She liked that; she liked how it looked.  She grabbed his hard penis with her hand and hovered over him, and at the last fucking second Joe came to his senses.

       “Condom!” he shouted.

       “Shhh, I can’t get pregnant, it’s alright.” she said, and he violently shook his head no.

       “No, no, I don’t need another kid, please, please…”

       This was a different kind of begging.  This was real.

       Shell rose up and kissed Joe’s forehead. 

       “Where are they?”

       Relief like he’d never known washed through him.  He had wanted to forget about this, not remember it.

       “In my nightstand.” he said, pointing.  She rose up, her feet making squishing noises on the wet carpet, and pulled out the drawer until she found one.  Shell turned and unwrapped it, rolling the latex over his swollen member, and Joe let his head relax onto the floor.

       “Now I have to hurt you again.” she said, and she unclipped his nipples.  The blood rushing back into them was a mild throb to him, now.  He moaned from it.  She smirked, picked up the bottle of rubbing alcohol, and poured it onto the cut on his chest.

       Joe screamed through his teeth but he managed to hold still, and in mid-scream she grabbed his cock and sank down onto him.  She rose up again quickly and sank down again, and as the pain faded she was riding him, and he forgot all about his cuts as pleasure pulsed up his penis.  He lay still for a moment, savoring how she took him, her ass hitting his sore balls each time she came down.  Then he could take it no longer, and he moved his pelvis to thrust.  She held herself still, hovering just over him, and let him as he started to move himself in and out of her.

       “Ohhhhh…” he said, and he thrust deeply inside her, and she moaned and grabbed the skin of his stomach in her hands.  She held herself just above him and then let him do all the work, as he pushed into her over and over as his hands wrapped around the cords that loosely bound him to the bed.  He felt her squeeze his stomach harder and harder, her nails digging deeply into his skin as the pleasure in his cock increased and he no longer cared about his stomach, or chest, or any other part of his body.

       “Mmmm…” she said, and he groaned in agreement, and then he was thrusting as fast and hard as he could as sweat covered his body. 

       “Come on, little slut, give in to it now, show me what a slut you are.” her voice said, low and sexy.

       He thrust as fast as his legs could muster, pleasure repeated over and over.  He felt his abs tighten and then he finally came, waves of pleasure shooting through him as he released his cum.

       “Yessss…” she said, and all he could do was moan and pulse, until he was spent and he collapsed to the wet floor, his body exhausted, bruised and bleeding.

       Shell gave him a sexy smile as she leaned forward, leaving him inside her as she brushed her fingers through his hair.  All he could do was gaze up at her with a satisfied smile, and then she leaned down and kissed his lips, long and sweet.

       She rose up and started to untie him.  Joe’s shoulders and elbows ached terribly as he brought his arms in front of himself.  He rubbed his wrists as she moved down to free his ankles.  Once he was free, he sat up very slowly, feeling the new clots in his skin crack a little as he moved.

       “Oh, wow, do I hurt.” he said, his body aching in every place as he moved.  He glanced out the window and saw the sky was turning pink as the sun started to rise.  He looked over at the clock; it was seven in the morning now. 

       “Oh, you’re gonna ache for days.” she said cheerfully.  “And the best part is I get to watch you ache, all day at work…”

       He turned to her and shook his head, smiling.

       “You are one sick sadist.” he said.  She laughed, and captured his face in her hands.        

       “Speak for yourself.” she said  “Half of what I did were your ideas.”

       He smiled and rested his back against the bed.  He reached down and pulled the condom off of his shrunken dick with a wet sucking sound. 

       “Thank you, for using this.” he said.  She nodded, compassion on her face.

       “Hey, in your case, I understand.”

       He nodded gratefully, not wanting to move his aching body much.

       “Hey, what did you mean by you can’t get pregnant?” he asked.  She shrugged.

       “I had Chlamydia as a kid, for a couple years I guess.  By the time I got it taken care of, they told me it was too late and I can never have kids.”

       Joe stared at her naked body as the sun rose through the window and left an orange glow on her skin.

       “Why did you wait so long?”

       She shrugged again.

       “I didn’t know I had it.  My parents always fought over who had to pay the co-pays on my doctor visits until I wound up just never going.”

       He squinted at her in the brightening light.

       “Where does a kid get Chlamydia, anyway?” he asked.

       She shyly folded her arms in front of herself and turned away from him.

       “From her mom’s boyfriend’s son.  Probably.  It was probably him, but I guess it could have been a couple other guys.”

       He would have risen to comfort her, but his body ached terribly, and he knew it was only going to get worse.  Joe stared at the wall in front of him instead.

       She shivered.

       “I’m going to get dressed.” she said.  He nodded.

       “I’m going to…stay right here.  I’m…not going to move for awhile.” he said.  She turned and left, then returned, carrying her gross work clothes in her hands.

       “Forgot this is what I came in.” she said, trying to smile at the joke, but her face was too sad.

       “Yeah, you can borrow something to wear.” he said.  “Just open up my dresser and take whatever.” he snorted.  “Hell, it’s the only place you haven’t been.”

       She smiled and walked over, digging around until she found a pair of sweatpants that had a drawstring she could pull to keep them up, and a thick sweatshirt to try to hide that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

       She then turned around and sat next to him, leaning against the side of the bed.

       “Thank you.” he said.  “For the most amazing experience of my life.”

       She smiled sadly and looked up at the ceiling.

       “Thank you too, for the same reason.” she said.  She snorted.  “Some fuck-ups we are, if this is the highlight of our life.”

       He let out air through his teeth in a near-laugh.

       “Hey, it’s not too bad.” he said.  He frowned.  “You…you didn’t want some kind of relationship, or something, did you?”

       She shook her head.

       “No.  I’m no good at those.”

       She didn’t turn to look at him.  She didn’t want to see if that answer disappointed him.

       “Oh, good.  Because, you know, I’ll probably move in a few months.  To keep looking.”

       She nodded. 

       “Yeah.”

       Silence befell both of them, as the sun turned white and full day shined in through the window.

       “It’s good you keep hoping like that.” she said, but he sighed and stared at the floor.

       “I’m not sure if I’d call it ‘hope’.  I just…don’t know what else to do with my life.  I don’t like staying in one place, you know.  I hate getting attached.”

       She snorted.

       “Yeah.  Well.” she paused.  “I’d be a horrible mother, anyway, the way that I am.”

       He laughed. 

       “Probably.”

       She yawned, as her exhaustion suddenly caught up with her.  She stood.

       “Well, I gotta get home and get some sleep, before I have to be back at work.”

       He nodded.

       “Yeah.  I should…move, eventually.”

       She grinned.

       “Well, at least I get to savor knowing you for a little while, still.” she said.

       “Yeah, sure.” he answered, but he didn’t raise his head, and then she turned and was gone.  He heard the door shut softly and latch, and then he tilted his head backward to lean on the mattress and fell asleep, sitting right where he was.

       A few hours later, he awoke with awful aches in all of his joints.  He had to piss now, and he moved very, very slowly to his feet.  When he caught a glimpse of his torso in the bathroom mirror, he winced.  He was covered in bruises and smeared blood, and the dried blood under his nose was starting to become itchy.  He looked like hell.  Then he smiled.  It had been a hell of a night, one he’d never forget; and in his life, that was nice.  There weren’t too many people that he remembered for long.  But he knew he’d remember Shell forever, if nothing else.

       He washed the blood off of his face, but felt too exhausted to take care of anything else. He wandered into his living room to collapse on the couch.  His phone was lying on the coffee table, with a note scrawled on a napkin under it.  It was her phone number.

       “In case there really is hope, put me on the list.” it said underneath.  “If I ever see her, I’ll send her straight to you.”

       He stared at the napkin for a long time, swallowing a lump in his throat.  For the first time in awhile, possibly ever, he felt like someone else gave a shit.  She gave a shit.  About him.  Tears welled up in his eyes and blurred his vision.  He collapsed onto the couch and considered, for a brief moment, of staying in this shithole town, to really see if maybe he could make something with this girl.  A friend, a fuck buddy, something.

       Then he pulled out the picture of his little girl from his wallet.  No matter how tired or spent he felt, nothing ever kept his eyes dry when he looked at her adorable smile, grinning up at him from under her wavy dark brown hair as she showed him the new stickers she’d gotten. 

       “Look what I got, Daddy.”

       Like hell he would stay anywhere until he found her. 

       Joe’s body was done.  He collapsed back against the couch and fell asleep, sitting up, her picture in one hand, the napkin in the other.