Read His perspective, Taming Beau
I had just got out the bath, I was laying on the sofa watching Futurama when I heard my phone vibrate well out of arms length. I didn’t check the notification, since getting a new phone I had been glued to it and decided to finish this episode first just out of principle. Eventually I caved, my phone was silently screaming at me to hold it. The notification was for an email instructing me to tie myself to something ready for his return home.
I looked at the received time, I looked at the time now. I weighed up running around in a panic in the few minutes remaining trying to make myself sexy and find something to tie myself to and simply decided I was comfortable where I was. I got back on the sofa and pressed play on another episode of Futurama, I just wasn’t in the mood.
How very lazy of me.
When he came home he didn’t say anything and just watched a couple of episodes with me. I’m ashamed to say, I thought I got away with it.
Other non Futurama or sex related things happened.
Then he took off his belt and put it round my neck, pulled it tight and rubbed my nipples. He pulled me to the floor, lowered my comfy bottoms and knickers round my thighs and spanked me and fingered my pussy while pushing his cock down my throat and choking me with his belt.
He dragged me into the bedroom and hit me more. I wasn’t warmed up. It wasn’t pleasant. He put the blindfold over my face. I didn’t speak, but I whimpered and squirmed in protest, not that he was going to let up, I knew where this was going.
Laying flat on my front, fully clothed except for my exposed bottom, he straddled my legs pinning me down and lubed up his cock. He forced his way in me against my protests. ‘Stop!’ I pleaded. It’s was more than uncomfortable. I moved as much as I could underneath him to make the entry more pleasant in my sensitive vagina. I tried to use my hand to restrict how far he could enter me, he just pinned it behind my back and with that I couldn’t move. He pulled on the belt as he unforgivingly fucked me. I yelped when he pushed his thumb in my ass. I buried my head in the pillow to stifle my moans that see-sawed between pleasure and discomfort. Through my gasps I would hear words rolling off his tongue as he yanked on the belt around my throat. Cunt. Whore. Slut.
He came quickly. I love the feeling of his cock throbbing every last drop into my cunt.
As soon as he was finished I wriggled away, my pussy was so raw. He sorted himself out, I didn’t move, trousers still around my arse, belt still around my neck.
I was beginning to relax and appreciate what had just happened when he came back and pulled me off the bed by the belt back in the front room. My trousers were still down, I felt rather stupid when he sat me down on the floor and the only place I could feel carpet was on my bare bum. It suddenly occurred to me I didn’t want to make a mess on the carpet.
‘I asked you to do something for me, did you get my email?’
I lied. Like a naughty child I lied. And like a naughty child, I knew he knew I was lying. It dawned on me that I felt like I was 5 again being scolded by a parent, how the fuck had he reduced me to this?!
‘I’m going to punish you, suck this like it’s a cock.’
He put my hand on an object, it was a leg of an upturned chair.
I shook my head. Er…how about no.
‘Ok, then, I’m going to give you a few strikes with this instead.’
I found my voice suddenly. ‘No! It’s a broom handle.’ My mind flashed back to a drunken game (if you can call it that) with some guys I know hitting each other with a broom handle. It’s ridiculous what lengths guys go to get one up. I saw the outcome of their little game, I didn’t want that to be my arse.
‘It’s your choice.’
‘I don’t want either.’
I sat and stubbornly crossed my legs and held the end of the belt as if it was my lead. He didn’t force me into taking a beating. I wished he had, that would have been easier. He left me with the choice and he walked away. I was getting very angry, I was shooting daggers from my eyes underneath my blindfold. Something was boiling up inside me.
I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m not fucking doing that. But why was I still sat there? I could get up, I thought. I could use my safe word… No, that’s not what it’s for. I hated that somehow he was getting one up on me. I wondered what would happen of I just got up and went about my business. I imagined getting into my car and driving away. The broom was not an option in my mind.
It dawned on me I wasn’t getting away with it this time. Fuck.
The only thing stopping me was myself. Stopping me from walking away, and stopping me from sucking a chair leg. I was stuck on the floor knowing which one was going to win but too stubborn to admit it. Why was I so glued to the floor? I wasn’t under, so why was I submitting to this? My expression went from downright disgusted, to reluctantly smiling knowing I was getting what I deserved, to anger at him for expecting me to do something so degrading-that didn’t have anything to do with sex!
It occurred to me that this is what it would be like if we spent every day together. Could I do that with someone? How quickly would I adjust to obeying his commands? Would I adjust at all? This was the 1st time he had done anything like this, a real punishment. Something I really wouldn’t want to do, but is completely harmless.
A simple paddle beating wouldn’t have worked. He knew I liked it. Making me sit in the corner wouldn’t have worked, I was too patient. Devious fucker, I thought, how did he work this out? Was it a lucky shot or had he figured me out? I was more annoyed I hadn’t even figured me out yet. This, faced with a chair leg to suck, would have never crossed my mind as something that could push my buttons in ways I never knew existed.
I could hear him washing up in the kitchen. When I heard the grill pan being scrubbed I smiled, I knew I was testing his patience. He would only clean weeks of grilled and re-grilled cheese in desperation.
This wasn’t a battle of wills. I’m sure that very loud scrubbing was sending me a message. With that I decided that I didn’t want to put him through having to start cleaning the oven too.
‘Ok. Fine!’ I yelled, then more sheepishly, ‘I’ll do it.’ I did it. I wrapped my lips around the end of a chair leg as begrudgingly as a teenager who has been made to apologise. Then I yanked off my blindfold and the belt, pushed my way past him without making eye contact and smoked and focused on my phone like a sullen teenager. If I had my own room, I would have gone up there to sulk. A smile crept up my face, he saw and I quickly wiped it away, he chuckled at my reaction.
I guess it felt like a little triumph for him. We don’t spend enough time together for him to really punish me like this, so I guess I have been getting away with a lot without realising it. I have certainly felt spoilt at times.
Before I sucked the chair leg, sitting on the floor, I questioned why I didn’t do as he asked. I was just plain lazy and selfish. With that realisation came a sense of disappointment. After I sucked a chair leg, it pains me to admit, the smile creeping up my face was from some weird sense of pride. I don’t understand the emotional roller coaster of stubbornly sitting on the floor refusing to do as I’m told or the reason for this smile. For once I can’t explain the goings on in my head, or justify them. The more this happens the more I realise this is a good thing. It makes me happy.
Despite this ‘win’, I’m still ashamed and repulsed I sucked a fucking chair leg.