+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Even The First - PART TWENTYSIX
THE USUAL WARNINGS APPLY TO THIS TALE.
Please let me know if you are enjoying this! CONTACT sharper@inorbit.com WITH FEEDBACK :-)
SEARCH NIFTY FOR sharper@inorbit.com or this link www.bit.ly/1VSsqpI TO READ OTHER TALES BY ME.
REMEMBER TO MAKE YOUR DONATION TO WWW.NIFTY.ORG !!
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Even The First - PART TWENTYSIX
"You know, soldier, if you weren't beautiful, this wouldn't be happening. Let's get this over."
-------------------------- SECOND____________ WARNING: __________ Same rules apply.
This story is a fantasy and not a depiction of real life; it no more describes an actual situation than the Muppets "Pigs In Space!!" segment describes life on a real Danish bacon farm. Remember: The Sub/Dom kink plays with the consent dynamic for kicks, but that's it; actual consent should never be confused with games, cs though you might be sub: Whatever part you think you are playing, you are not a slave; you are an individual with rights based upon natural justice and the law. Believe in yourself and your freedom to be happy. Always demand the best for yourself.
If you think something like this tale is happening in your real life then my suggestion would be to get real, walk away, get out, quickly. Find a relationship that is kinky (if you like) but non-abusive. Sex is fun, but shouldn't take over your life.
Get real.
End of lecture. --------------------------
FIRST HALF
Why have I been like this all my life? Why is this always about other people? Why do I never get asked what it is I want - why is it always about what everybody else wants? Why is that? What's going on?
Occasionally Kevin would pause to touch his handiwork.
"Do you like that?"
Occasionally he would stop and stroke my bottom or whatever part of me he was concentrating on, soothing the part he had been chastising, commenting on the marks, boasting to me about the welts that were ridging visibly on my flesh.
"Hey beautiful, do you like being touched?"
It didn't matter; I was concentrating on the pain and on keeping quiet, snot and tears dripping out of my face.
"Shhhh. Better. Do you like being touched? Do you like being touched there?"
His fingers hurt, though he thought he was soothing out the fire, caressing and calming me, turning me on, tracing with his finger tips imaginary paths across my skin. His hands could hurt me or heal me, or, putting his fingers in my mouth, enforce his electric will; saying, "That's good, that's good," saying, as he smeared his phlegm across my face.
"Say, Please."
"Sir. Please. Sir."
"Yeah. Like it's true. I like that."
Then he resumed indiscriminately beating up on me; focusing on one bit, then, randomly, different types of blow, never letting me relax into it or ready for the next. I didn't think it was ever going to stop, and every time it did stop I thought it might be finished, but it never was.
"This is mad," I thought. I was kind of delirious, then, just when I thought I was going to faint. He dropped his whip like a mike, with, "Jesus, soldier, I'm tired," jubilantly wiping sweat off his face, and walked off.
I couldn't see where he went.
When he spoke next I realised he was sitting down behind me, "Fucking hell mate, you should see what I've done! It's something else! It's fucking incredible. Your back's like ketchup. Blood lines. Does it hurt like fuck?"
"Yes. Sir."
"Yes. Sir. What?"
"Hurts. Sir."
"Like what?"
"Hurts like. Fuck. Sir. Hurts. Like. Fuck. Sir. Fuck."
"Fuck yeah, but ... hey ... it's something else. Proud of baby. Yeah? Proud of you. - Hey, I know what I want ..."
He appeared again, with some nipple clamps which he put on me and slapped a few times. I bit hard so that the pain in my molars was ... The pain was ...
"In agony?" he asked.
I nodded, biting and groaning, I was literally unable to speak.
"This'll help. Good. Very good."
Kevin grabbed my cock and the balls in his fist and squeezed them hard, yanking them down. That distracted me off the other pain, I suppose. I yelped.
"That's right, soldier! It hurts!" and he redoubled his effort, hitting me on the chest, abdomen and upper thighs. When he accidentally smashed the crop down on my flaccid erection the pain was so excruciating I screamed at the top of my voice and said, "No, no," repeatedly, and, "Please Sir, please stop," choking on my spit in desperation and coughing.
He rushed forward and stroked the red marks and kissed me and hissed, "Now you're making me angry. Stop fucking screaming! Now, there. There, there, shhhhh, stop or you'll upset Paul. Here," he forced his tongue into my mouth and licked around the gag. He seemed to like that it was making no difference. His cute flat nose rubbed against mine. His eyes bore into me, examining my reaction. But then taste of his sweet saliva in my mouth entering from his mouth started comforting me - strangely. I tried to grab his tongue with my lips - I knew he wanted it. The smell of his breath in my face, the closeness of his eyes to my eyes, staring into me, made me feel less afraid, more like I could believe in him, like the damage he could do was ... ok, somehow. Like it was ok, and safe, and ... for my own good.
"Now keep quiet," he whispered. He touched my penis with his hand, a gentle stroke, kneading the foreskin against the glans, pulling on it gently. "How's that? Better? - Well I'll presume it is!" He laughed and walked away to find another instrument. But almost at once I felt myself panicking again - hyper-ventilating, my chest was expanding and contracting at an incredible rate - like a lab rat running through a maze, realising it was lost, I didn't seem to be able to catch my breath. I was. Suffocating. I cried out.
Kevin rushed back. He put his arms around me. Suddenly, he ripped off the clamps without warning and I screamed again, sobbing wordless gobs of spit round the gag. One pain overcoming another pain; one panic overcoming the last.
He put his mouth on my mouth, closing it, containing my cries, feeding on my terror.
"Yeah that's right, soldier. Deep. Deep breath. Through the nose. In." Our lips were in contact. "Out. That's good. Keep breathing. Deep. That's right. And out. Well done."
He gripped me tight.
"I can't do it, Sir," I wept. "I can't go on. I ..."
"Yes you can. Yes you can do it. This is nothing. This is normal. Your doing just fine. Doing well. Just calm down. Here," he went off and found a tiny glass bottle which he pressed to my nose, squeezing one and then the other nostril. "Big hit. That's it. Well done. Feel better. You're doing it. You can do it." He took a hit as well. "Don't normally do these, but ... special occasion. Haha."
He put his face close to mine as the amyl high rushed into my ears and around my head. I could feel his heart as well, thumping through the hot rubber he was wearing; sticking to my skin, I could feel his erection too, he was rubbing it up and down against me very slowly, grinding it on my leg insistently.
"Sso-l-dier ... You make me wanna cum," he whispered, "but I don't wanna cum. Cs I'm enjoying this too much. Watching you: suffer. Watching you: in pain. Watching you: breaking. Watching you: break. Watching you: endure the pain. Watching you: enjoy the pain - cs you are enjoying it aren't you?"
I inhaled.
"Yes ... Sir."
"I know you are soldier. You love it. Don't you?"
I exhaled.
"Yes. Sir."
"Say that. Say 'I enjoy the pain.' "
"I, enjoy the pain. Sir."
"Yes. Say it again."
"I enjoy the pain, Sir."
"Yes I know you do. You love it. I love it too. I love hurting you. I love taking you to the edge. I love it. I can't get enough of it. I never want it to stop. You don't want it to stop either do you? Say it: Say, 'I don't want it to stop.' "
"I don't want it to stop Sir."
"I don't want it to stop, please."
"I don't want it to stop please Sir."
"Please don't stop."
"Please don't stop Sir."
"Beg me."
"Please don't stop Sir. Please don't stop Sir. I'm begging you. I'm begging you Sir please don't stop Sir please don't stop ..." I sobbed it all out, on and on til my throat was sore and my eyes were smarting like they'd been washed in acid.
"That's it. Good boy ... gooooooood boy. Now: What can I hurt you with next?"
I started a pleading involuntary whimpering, "Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Sir. Sir. Sir. Sir. Please. Please. Please. Please. Sir. Sir. Sir. Sir."
"Stop SIMPERING or ... Oh my god you really do, you really do love it, look at you: You are SO hard! I don't think I want you to cum, but I don't think I'm going to be able to stop you. Am I?
"I'll Try. To. Not cum. Sir."
"Look at that. I'll try not to touch it. It's huge. It's so huge. I never knew it could grow so big. I won't touch it. I don't want it to explode!"
He laughed - I laughed despite myself, spitting foam through the bite-gag and feeling the enjoyment he was feeling. The warmth of his pleasure and satisfaction.
"Please Sir. Please don't make me cum."
"It's up to you. I'm not doing anything. You've got to control yourself."
"Please Sir, please Sir," I said, just as if I really was willing my close-orgasm to subside. "Please Sir, please Sir." Just as if the blood in my penis had been almost stationary, almost static for so long that it was aching like gangrene. "Please Sir, please Sir."
"Breath, soldier-boy. Deep breaths. Calm down. Calm yourself. Now: Tell me what you want."
"P please sir. Please sir."
I breathed hard and deep exhaling and inhaling as slowly as I could. Eventually my drained lifeless dick started to bleed a feeble line of glistening precum which dangled from the tip as though I had, in some way, really cum. Kevin put his hand on my jaw and his other hand holding the crop in the small of my back so that I knew it was there, and his face was not very far from my face. He tapped my nose with his nose and grinned.
"Now please, tell me, what do you want? Tell. Me."
I inhaled deeply, so deeply, like a whale takes a breath before diving once more into the blue-black deep. I let the oxygen fill me and then exhaled. Then I breathed in again and said, "Please Sir. Hurt me Sir. Please, Sir. Please Sir. Hurt. Me. Again. Sir."
And when I said that thing, when I said those words, I think it was like an ejaculation to him, and I finally felt I felt like I finally knew at last what it was, what it was, what it was, exactly what it was I wanted.
"Please Sir, please hurt me again Sir," I said.
Kevin sighed and kissed me.
"Soldier, you are incredible. You are really incredible. You really are. It was fantastic, what you just did. You're so unbelievable. You are soooo so beautiful."
"Sir."
"Thank you fag."
But I was sniffling and whimpering like an idiot. I looked at Kevin's sternly jubilant face just then, as he started punching my head, "I've said, shut the fucking shut, up!" to stop me making a noise, then he walked off and reached once more into Paul's box of tricks, his back to me, the reflection of the light curling doing his tightly shining rubberised backside and off his plastic shoulders.
"Relax the fucking up."
I tried to relax.
He turned to face me. He held a little knife. A scalpel.
SECOND HALF.
FINAL_______________
WARNING: __________
Only read this if you don't care.
"Now. Relax."
"Now. Relax."
I was shivering.
"Re. Lax. There."
He stood directly before me and put one arm around my waist, holding me like a woman, placed the cold knife on my lips and said, "Kiss kiss."
I kissed. It almost cut my lips.
"Now," he pointed the scalpel towards my chest, "this is something I've always wanted to do. Hold. Still. You NEED to relax."
"Wh'what are you going to ...?"
My entire body stiffened.
"It's just a little ... I've always had this ... fantasy, you might say."
He held the blade against my chest and pressed it until my skin, popped, suddenly - I felt the sting - and a drop of blood appeared; it grew into a droplet, which rolled down and then fell away. I tried to pull back: I couldn't.
"... don't shake."
He let go of my waist and grabbed my throat.
"Pleeeeeeedon't ..."
"You can't stop me now soldier. Ok." He smiled. "You can't stop me from doing anythink. I could kill you if I wanted to. I could slash you. You could bleed to death. No one would know. No one. I can do exactly what I want and nobody stop me. Nobody cares, babes. No. Bod. Ee. Paul doesn't care," he said, "Do you think any one would notice," he said, "if you simply disappeared?"
He took and held a deep breath. Then he exhaled very slowly through his cute flat nose.
"That! is how totally I own you. I LOVE This POWER!!!"
He laughed, exposing his teeth like the gated entrance to a sordid mind, took another breath, and held it as he carved the knife, in, again. I strained to look down, then looked away, pleading, "Noooo..."
"Hold the fuckn still solder. Fuck'n!"
I was shaking so much. But I had to breathe, long and deep, filling my lungs, so that he would have a steady surface. I had no choice but to make things as simple for him as he had made things simple for me. I strained to watch as he cut once more into my chest, and the blood running out raced to the floor. He tightened his grip on my throat to intercept my involuntary spasms and concentrated on his blade, staring intensely at the scalpel tip as it broke its tiny line of red in my chest, and the tiny stream of blood spilling from the glossy surface.
"Good. Hold. Fucking. Still soldier. While. I. Fucking. Do. This."
I was choking.
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
I was choking.
"Now. Relax."
I was choking.
"One ..."
First cut.
"K. Let's not get this over with. K. Let's make it last. Shall we? Let's make it last?"
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
I was choking.
"Two."
When you see someone being sliced - someone on the TV or on the street - you can't feel it can you? No, you can't. Obviously. You know all about that. You're not an idiot. But this means you DON'T know what it is actually like - the victim experience - do you? No. Obviously you don't. You can't know what it is like. No images can evoke the exquisite repulsion of that cold blade meaninglessly cutting its layers, opening, filling with bright crimson, to lake, overflow its edges, jump to the floor, and you see it. But you don't actually feel it. You don't actually feel it. You never actually feel anything, do you? You never actually feel anything. You know what it's like, but you don't know what it's like. You never actually know what it's really like, do you?
That's how we live nowadays, with our screen-fixated, media-centred lives: Not FEELING anything. But I FELT every tiny slowly inching millisecond. I WAS hyperventilating, as he carved, restricting my neck, choking me to KEEP me still as I jerked to avoid him - even though I was straining every fucking muscle in my entire body not to move a bit.
"Three."
Three cuts.
"Hold it ... soldier ... Fuck ... Yeah ... That's it ... That's ... the first letter ... ... ... ... K! That's it. Oh man, that is hot! Man, that's ... hot."
I must have been screaming. I know I was whimpering as it happened and then he was slapping me and telling me to shut up, so I guess I must have been screaming or else, why did he stop? He took a step back and stood, scalpel in one hand, blood on his face where he'd wiped it, staring, waiting for me to calm down, looking at what he'd done; his whole face was shining with excitement and his body stiff, shoulders fixed, arms straight, legs fixed apart on the concrete, erection pulsing like a machine underneath his rubber clothes - like he was visibly ejaculating into his trews.
Eventually, he came back to me, calm and cold. I had stopped shouting and my breathing had subsided a little - his breathing was calm and normal again - but my panic arose immediately. He was grim and slapped my face hard.
"Stop. That."
He raised the scalpel and pointed it at my face, then back at my chest, grabbing my neck with his other hand before pressing the blade once more into my skin.
"One."
One cut.
"Two."
Each line he cut hurt like - can't describe how much it hurt - and if it took ages or not ... I'll never forget.
"Three ... ... ... F!"
I bit down on the gag until my jaw felt like it was burning up and my whole face and the muscles in my neck ached, and in my arms and fists, and legs, and back where he had already marked me, the pain of muscular tension overcame everything else.
I'll never forget what it felt like.
"One. Two. Three ... ... ... A!"
Alright, I didn't lose consciousness - Is that what you want to hear: that I lost consciousness? I didn't. Sorry. I was wide awake and felt every bit of it. I still see Kevin's face as he steered that knife, staring at it like it was a plough in the earth, or a stick in the water. And the joy on his face, the amazing pleasure, concentration and excitement.
I'll never forget his face.
At last: One cut. "Wu ... uh ... hh ... hne." He had finished. He had made the final cut: Two ... there ... ... ... G!"
He put his hands on my shoulders to firm me as I shook like a throttling diesel motor, crying, biting on my gag like it was my only ... all I had. "Hey! Its okay now! There, soldier, you made it. Relax. Relax. It's over. You done. Well done. Relax. There now. Stand down. That's it. That's it. That's better. Done."
I'll never. Forget.
"Now you're marked forever: KFAG."
He traced each bloody letter with his finger as he read: "KFAG," he said. "The G was difficult. KFAG: That's for 'Kevinsfag' but I couldn't fit that many letters in." He laughed. "An' I couldn't be bothered. KFAG. So I totally own you now. KFAG. Soldier." He laughed jubilantly. "I'm your owner now, no matter what Paul says."
I continued to sob with pain, the fresh cuts were screaming with smart.
"KFAG. Yeah that good, that ok yeah? that good. Cry. I'm here baby. I'm here. I'm here soldier. That it. I'm here. I'm here for you baby."
He pressed his erection up against me; soothing me with feeling of his hungry dickhead.
"Can you? feel it? That's for you, baby that is, cs you turn me on so much. That's for you. Can you feel it? That for you that is. Now. I'm going to get you down. And fuck you, now I own you, and I'm gonna fuck you. And fuck you. And fuck you and I am going to come inside you. So many huge loads. Inside you won't believe it. You wouldn't believe they can be so huge. You wanna believe it. That's what. I'm go ... nna do. To you now baby. You want it. You want it. It's gonna be so deep. Yeah that's it. Relax. Shhhhh ... ... And this time it'll be better this time because this time you'll know it's me inside you. You'll know it mate. You'll know it's me, mate: Your New Owner. I own you now. How does that feel?" He slowly ground his stiff prick against my leg. I could feel it throbbing.
"Hey?"
"It feels good Sir," I sniffed.
"Feels good," he repeated. He waited for my sobbing to ease up. Then he stepped back to admire his work, rubbing his erection as he looked.
"So, what do you think, soldier?" he said. "Loooks goood! I liiike it!"
He wiped the scalpel blade on his fingers and licked them, throwing the knife back into Paul's box.
"Thank ... You ... Sir," I said, agony ripping through me; the raw letters still pulsing.
"KFAG. You needed that soldier," he whispered, smiling sweetly, groping himself. Then he held me tight, rubbing my own salty sweat into the cuts, pressing his face into mine, pulling at the wounded skin all over my body. "You needed that. You needed that, soldier boy, didn't you? That. Yeah. KFAG. MY fag. You did good. You did real good soldier. Champion. S'like, I couldn't have taken it. No way. No. Body. Else. Could. Have. Taken. That. Much. Pain ... Feels good, doesn't it? Soldier boy? Yeah?"
Hot fiery tears ran down my face, smearing into his. I thought he was crying too. He kissed me, sharing his tongue and spit; a deep, passionate snog; our faces mashing up together; the way he put his hand on the back of my head and rubbed himself on me - I could feel the fat engorged nobhead.
Did he really think I was happy?
"Soldier: I LIKE that you're so ... fucking ... brutalised that you let me do that, to you, and wanted it, loved it, didn't you?"
"Yes Sir."
"Yes Sir what?"
"Yes Sir I wanted it, Sir."
"Yes and what else Yes Sir?"
"Yes Sir I loved it, Sir."
Did he really think I was happy? Vince could never have done that to me; even Squigger had his limits. They loved me. They couldn't do what Kevin just had. And Paul? He couldn't be bothered.
"Ohh yes ... I said you could do it KFAG," he whispered, "and I was right, wasn't I?"
"You were right, Sir."
"Soldier. I'm your NEW owner now KFAG, no matter what Paul decides - I don't think I've ever owned ANYTHING so totally as I own you - no matter what Paul decides."
He grinned sadly, proudly displaying his awful teeth, and kissed my neck, held me tight and dug his fingers into me like hooks, not letting me go. I knew he was thinking of his next step.
"There are so many ways of hurting someone," he said, "but now I've got this problem!"
"I don't know how to punish you," he said, "when you like it so much."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
END OF Even The First - PART TWENTYSIX