Friday, August 28, 2009

Crawling on my Belly

I woke up this morning from a dream. But it was a dream that actually happened to me in real life many many years ago. I remembered I wrote about it so dug it out....this is from November 2002....

My hands were still shaking when you said you were done with me. You just got done fucking me in the ass, got up and went to the bathroom like I wasn't even there. When you came back, you said, "Get dressed. I am done with you." Just like I was property. Like I was a toaster and you had toasted your bread so were done with the toaster. Except I am human so you had to tell me you were done with me instead of putting me away. You used me and were done with me.

The box spring and mattress were on the floor where I sat on the edge fumbling to get my stocking and garter belt straight. You had me leave them on during our time and they were twisted. My fingers would almost get tangled into the stockings because I was shaking. The fear and violence of what had just happened to me still hung on to me since it was just moments ago that you were just punching me, spitting on me and calling me names. Brutally taking my ass and all the while making fun of me because I was so wet that you could smell me in the room.

I pulled my blouse on and start to button it. I missed a button and you laugh at me and tell me how stupid I am that I can't even button my shirt. You come to stand in front of me. You pull my hair so I am looking up at you. "You know you are a worthless stupid cunt, d...," He says. He added my name to the end. My real name. He knows how to get to me. Putting my name with the insult - making sure I hear it and know it was me he was talking to. Hearing it brings tears to my eyes. He release my hair, laughs and walks away. He tells me to hurry that I am being too slow. I finish getting dressed and am standing - not sure where to look or what to do. If someone would have asked me to count to 10 - I am not sure I could have - I was still so shaken.

"On your knees." He yells at me. I fall to my knees before he barely had finished it. He tells me I will crawl to the door. That I am more lowly then an animal that walks on four legs. He tells me to crawl low so that my fat belly hits the floor. I follow him to the door almost dragging my body along the floor knowing my skirt and blouse are getting dirty with the dust on the floor. But I don't care as my mind and body just obey him. We stop next to the door. He kicks my side and makes me lay down on the floor. He keeps on kicking me. I don't move and just take it. I have my body and face pressed to the floor. I feel tears welling up in my eyes. He brings his foot to my face and presses the bottom of his shoe into my face. He tells me that he walked the dog the other day and walked through dog shit. He tells me I am a worthless piece of shit and so I should have dog shit rubbed into my face. He goes on to tell me that maybe he should have me rub dog shit all over my body so that when I walk down the street people would smell me and know I am a worthless piece of shit. He is still grinding his foot into my face as he goes on and on how I am a worthless piece of shit. He releases my face and has me tell him that I am a worthless piece of shit over and over again. And then he says, "You may get up and leave you worthless piece of shit."

I walk out the door and down the steps to my car. My legs are shaking. The tears are barely being held in. And still I feel the throbbing between my legs. I want an orgasm so badly. He doesn't give me those but allows me to masturbate as much as I want. It will take me an hour to get to home. I drive for a bit but I can't wait to jerk off. I pulled over into a park that I know that has some secluded parking areas. I pulled my pocket rocket from my bag (I am like a boyscout always be prepared) and masturbate there in the car. I replay every moment of the day in my head. I come so hard that I thought I might have squirted on myself. But I didn't. I was just very wet from all my time with him and replaying it all that my thighs are stickily soaked.

He hurt me - with violence physical, emotional and mental. Breaking me down. He gets inside and turns the truth out to me. It wasn't nice and pretty. It wasn't normal SM play with floggers, whips and chains. He didn't use bondage. He forces me to make the choice of standing there and taking it. But in my mind it is like there is no choice. Some part of me obeys and wants to obey to every things he does to me no matter how much it hurts, how humiliating and degrading it is - I would crawl to him on my belly willingly knowing he will spit on me and tell me I am a stupid worthless piece of shit. And I will come back for more. Again and again. Turned on with anticipation.

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