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I was laying in bed on Saturday morning horny and tired. He was in the front room looking at my wank material stroking his cock. I was grumpy, I wanted it beaten out of me. I wanted to be helpless. I wanted to be used.

Knowing he was at his PC, I sent a tweet, it would pop up on his screen.

Tie me up and use me.

I think it was the first time I had ever asked for something like this. I think it was the first time I had a particular craving for something. I wanted it to be brutal, I wanted the pain, I wanted the distance.

I laid in bed, dozing, waiting.

He came in without a word and stripped off my clothes. I didn’t protest. My hands were tied around my wrists behind my back. I could feel the circulation failing immediately. He tied another length of rope around my elbows. There was no care taken, it was just pulled as tight as possible and tied in a knot. Then he put my collar round my neck.

My arms were forced into an unnatural position. My face was pressed into the bed. My collar was restricting my throat. My pussy was raw and sensitive from the night before. He satisfied himself in me.

I couldn’t prevent him from paddling my arse to the rhythm of his thrusts. I couldn’t stop him from painfully shoving his thumb in my arsehole. I could only moan my pain into the sheets and gasp for breath.

Nothing about it was affectionate or tender. Everything about it was satisfying.

When the ropes came off, my skin had platted imprints. I stoked them with my finger tips and with my lips. My shoulders wouldn’t bend back, my arms were weak, I was still helpless.

He massaged the life back into my limbs. I could feel every finger filling with warmth as the blood flowed back. Then I wrapped the duvet around myself and curled up in a warm, happy, sleepy ball.