In all families, there is rivalry. It is a fact of nature, that has existed since time, began. Siblings fight for supremacy, the young attempt to defeat the old. This is life, and there is little that can be done to change it.
In some families, however, the ancient combat can take an evil and twisted turn. The normal jealousy becomes fierce and savage, the natural passion to overcome, turns to obsession.
All this was feared by Maggie Talbot, for she had come to the conclusion that the Talbot's were insane. They had gone past the point of mere indulgence, past the limits of natural combat. What was going on between them was primal, mortal war.
To her, this battle she had suddenly found herself engaged in was something much more than a mere jockeying for a positive image in a father's eyes. Much more than a parent simply setting his sons against each other for amusement.
To Maggie's way of thinking, the depths to which this perversion of the natural order of things ran deeper than anything she had ever known. There was great danger here, and she feared now for herself, as well as her husband.
She was all too aware of the, fact that she might have to become as twisted as the rest of them, to defeat the evils themselves. She might well have to go E.G. one better in his madness, in an attempt to save Dash and herself.
She was walking in the large, beautiful garden that afternoon, inhaling the sweetness of the flowers, feeling the pleasing warmth of the sun on her shoulders as she moved beneath its nearly sensual glow.
It was quite amusing in one way, that the peace and calm of the garden was a counterpoint to the madness of the house beyond it. That such calm and beauty could exist side by side with such evil was really quite funny.
But she was not laughing. She could not find any real humor in her situation. Cold dread was raging in her soul, and she often shivered as if it were freezing outside, rather than warm and comforting.
She sat down on the grass and stared at the flowers, as if she could find some answer to her problem within their beauty. She gazed at them intently, but they told her nothing. The flowers had no secrets or solutions to reveal.
After awhile she heard movement on the path and turned to see Nola Talbot coming her way. The woman's face was etched with sweetness and charming affection, but her eyes were cold, betraying the hatred Maggie knew lay behind them.
Nola stopped beside the girl, gazing down at her pointedly. "Taking it easy, I see," she said casually. "It must be nice to be able to relax."
"I was asking them a question," Maggie replied, softly.
Nola laughed. "And what question might that be?"
"I was asking them how you deal with evil," Maggie said, turning an equally cold smile on the woman above her. "I thought they might not, since they are so beautiful, and obviously good!"
Nola did not appear to be disturbed by Maggie's pointed remark. "Good often hides evil," she whispered softly. "And evil, often is the good we are searching for! Don't you think that's true?"
"Only if you live in a world of illusions," Maggie said, coldly. "Only if you are so mad, that you must twist everything around to suit your purpose."
Nola laughed, again, nudging the young woman with her sharp, pointed shoe. "You know nothing about what you are saying," she hissed. "You are the one that lives in a world of dreams!"
"I suppose you can claim a better understanding of reality," laughed the young woman. "I suppose you can say what is real and what is not."
"I know what exists for me," snarled the woman, her voice low and measured now. "I know how to survive in this world. Do you?"
Maggie sighed and turned away from the woman, gazing back into the flowers once more. "I only know what must be done," she said, simply. "And I will do it."
"Let me give you a piece of advice, honey," Nola said, dropping down beside the young woman, now. "You can't win here, baby, you haven't got what it takes."
Maggie did not turn her head when she answered. "You don't know me very well, Nola," she said, evenly. "I don't give up easily."
"You'll be destroyed," the other woman chuckled softly. "You'll be ground under foot, and lose everything. The power that exists here will devour you!"
"As it has devoured you?" laughed the young woman savagely. "Will I turn into what you are, Nola?"
"I have adjusted, I have become what I needed to become to survive," the woman replied grimly. "I know what I want, and I will do anything to get it."
"So will I," hissed the young woman. She sighed heavily then. "So we must continue to play this game, correct?"
Nola laughed and nodded. "Of course, there is nothing else to do," she said. "But you will lose, I promise you!"
"The good and the evil, in, other words?"
"Of course, you little fool! You shall lose because you will not change. You will not submit. You can't win that way. You shall be destroyed!"
Maggie turned and stared at the woman beside her intently, now. She narrowed her eyes and spoke in a calm, controlled voice. "Do not cross me, Nola," she said. "I'm warning you."
Nola laughed; cruelly. "You're warning me," she snorted in a vulgar fashion. "My dear child, it is I that should be warning you! I'll eat you alive, bitch!"
"If you try to hurt me or Dash, you will regret it," the young woman said, evenly. "I don't care about anything, but that! Remember it, Nola, for your own good!"
The woman nodded and stood up. "We shall see," she chuckled confidently. "We shall see you wins this little battle, my pet! It will be a great pleasure to me, when I bring you down. A great pleasure indeed!"
Maggie said nothing; and after a moment, the woman turned and walked away. She watched her leaving, noticing her husband approaching on the same path. Nola brushed by him quickly, saying nothing, and in a few moments, he reached the spot where Maggie was sitting, staring at him anxiously.
He sat down beside her, smiling crookedly. "How's my darling this morning?" he asked, his voice betraying his worriedness.
She returned his smile and sighed. "Darling, why don't we go away from here," she said, simply. She leaned against him heavily, then, resting her head on his shoulder. "Why do we have to stay?"
Dashiell Talbot put his arm around his wife's shoulder and hugged her tightly to his chest. He felt her heart beating through the thin blouse she was wearing, a steady, almost comforting throb in her small chest.
"Things are in motion, there is no escape," he said grimly. "I always knew I would have to come back, even when I fought to deny it to myself!"
"No, we can leave now," she insisted urgently. "We can turn our backs on all this. We don't need your father's money, darling, we don't."
"It's not just that, darling," he sighed, shaking his head, wearily. "He has great power he could destroy me, us, if he wanted to."
"He wouldn't do that, why would he do that if he won?"
He laughed coldly. "He doesn't just want to win, he wants to rule," Dash answered grimly. "He wants to be the power, the final voice. He decides what will happen, he always will, until we've either been beaten, of beat him."
"He's that strong?" she asked frightenedly. "He's that insane to be the master?"
Dashiell chuckled sadly. "Winston defied him once, he ran from his control. Do you think his career faltered on its own?"
"I can't believe it. You mean your father destroyed him in Hollywood?" gasped the girl in disbelief. "He ruined Winston's career."
Dashiell shrugged. "I would venture a guess that he helped in the process. He has many friends, a word or two here or there, and someone's furnished. He's done it before to those that displeased him."
"Ohh, God, Dash, what are we going to do?" she sobbed, trembling uncontrollably in her husband's embrace, now. "How are we going to get out of this?"
A headache was beginning in Dashiell's skull, harsh, pounding and painful, it began to take hold of him, draining him of his energy and will. He moaned, rubbing his temples and shaking his head, sadly.
"I don't know, darling," he whispered, hugging his wife tighter to him, now. "I just don't know."
Maggie lay in her husband's arms, trembling as the fear raced through her. Dash was surrounded by forces that seemed too strong for him, she realized. He was too caught in the past, here, to fight it properly.
With aching sorrow and fear, she realized that it would be up to her. to see clearly in this horrible trap they were caught in. Up to her, perhaps, to find the answer to their problem. Even, perhaps, up to her to make the first, bold move.
"We have to fight them, Dash," she said fiercely. "We have to beat them at their own game. It's our only chance!"
Dashiell Talbot hardly heard his wife, he was too confused and troubled by his throbbing head and the memories of evil that surrounded his home and his past in this wretched place.
He suddenly wished he had never met Maggie, never brought her into the madness of his family. He pushed her away from him then, moaning softly as he held her at arms length and spoke in a tortured voice.
"Ohh, God, darling, leave, leave now," he hissed frantically. "Get out of here while you can! Forget about me and this place and this family. Leave darling, before it's too late for you to run!"
Maggie stared at her husband, overcome with love and tortured concern for him. She saw the fierceness in his eyes, the passion with which he cared about her. She fought back the urge to burst into tears and shook her head, grimly.
"Never," she said harshly. "I will never leave you! We are in this together, right to the end, Dash. That's the only way it can be!"
The young man was almost sobbing as he clutched his wife to him, hungrily. "Ohh, God, I don't want to see you hurt, Maggie," he moaned softly. "It would kill me if you were ever hurt because of me!"
"I won't be hurt, Dash," the young woman whispered determinedly. "Neither of us will be hurt! We'll get through this, I promise you we will!"
They remained that way for quite some time, shivering a bit as they clung so fiercely to each other. Dashiell could feel his wife's body trembling violently in his embrace, and the warmth of her sweet-scented breath on his cheek.
"We have to have a plan," she said at last. "We have to figure out what to do."
He nodded, the pain in his head subsiding a bit, as he felt the love and determination surging in his wife's body. "Yes, we can't just drift along anymore," he agreed.
"We have to be tough, Dash, even tougher than they are," she, said, grimly. "We have to destroy them, before they destroy us!"
"It's dangerous, darling," he said evenly. "We could easily become just as evil as they are. You don't know what it's like, I do."
He shook his head savagely. "The years of torture, the thrill you can get from having someone helpless, begging you for punishment. The savage beast you can find in yourself is frightening, you just don't know how it is!"
"I know what we have to do, darling," she growled. "And if it means risking everything, we have to take the chance."
"Do you want to, become like them?" he hissed wildly. "Do you want to become so twisted. you don't know good from evil?"
"I just do not intend to have us crushed because of their sickness," she whispered fiercely. "That can't be right, I know that much!"
"You can't pretend," he said wearily. "You can fool E.G., nor Nola or even Winston. They would know if we were faking, in a moment!"
Maggie Talbot felt the cold, chilling fear racing through her once more. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Then we'll just have to learn how to play the game," she said evenly. "We'll just have to learn to play it better than they do!"
She stood up, then, taking hold of her husband's hand and squeezing it tightly in her own. "Come on," she said sharply. "Let's go back to our room."
He joined her and blinked in confusion. "Why do you want to go back there?"
She turned her head away from him at that moment, unable to look him in the eyes. "We begin now," she said simply. "We start fighting them right now."
Not daring to look at him now, fearing that one gaze into his eyes would crush her determination, Maggie led her reluctant husband back out of the garden and into the house. He dragged along behind her as she kept hold of his hand, all the way up the wide staircase and down the hail into their bedroom.
She locked the door behind him, then leaned against it, facing him, a grim look On her face. "Let's try and relax," she whispered softly. "Let's try and get into the mood."
Dashiell Talbot sat down heavily on the bed and watched as his wife went to the large, oak dresser beside their bed. She took a small, ornate snuff box from beneath her underwear in the top draw and sat down beside him.
She removed some cigarette papers from the box and quickly began to roll thin, firmly packed marijuana cigarettes from the small amount she kept in the box. Dashiell watched intently as her fingers flew over the papers, working steadily until she had five, slender sticks lying between them on the bed.
She picked one up and handed it to her husband, then took another for herself. "This ought to get us comfortable enough," she laughed bitterly. "I need to be completely mellow for what we need to do, now."
As they puffed on the cigarettes, sucking the acrid smoke into their lungs and holding it as long as possible, the doubt and dread tore through Dashiell Talbot's mind, savagely. He did not have any idea how he could go through with what his wife proposed, nor how she could bear it, either. It seemed impossible to him, that they would ever be able to teach the control they needed.
"You are going to have to get back into your past, darling," she said between puffs. "You're going to have to reach back and find that beast inside of you again."
"I can't, I just can't," he gasped, fighting to hold the harsh smoke in his lungs. "It's too horrible, I have fought against it all my life!"
"Darling, you can't resist it anymore, it's too important," she insisted. "You have to forget everything but the cruel lust you have buried inside of you. I want you to become an animal, Dash, it's the only way!"
They stubbed out the cigarettes and quickly lit two more. They puffed slower on these two sticks, the effects of the drug already invading their bodies, now. They began to feel light and sensual, tingling with strange and powerful sensations in every part of their bodies.
Dashiell spoke with a rawness in his throat as he glanced nervously at his wife. "But what about you, darling?" he asked, anxiously. "How are you going to reach a point of ecstasy? How are you ever going to get to that state?"
She shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "This is something very new to me, but I have to try. I seem to remember reading something about everyone enjoying bit of pain, perhaps I can work on that sensation, heighten it."
Dashiell nodded gravely. "Yes, there exists the ability in all of us to enjoy suffering," he agreed. "But those that go as deeply into it as E.G. demands are usually insane. You have to unhinge your mind to reach that point!"
Maggie closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head slowly. "I have to dig deeply into myself, darling, Search out the core of my pleasure, find that moment that is similar to the pain of orgasm I sometimes experience."
Dashiell sighed heavily,* nodding his head dully. "I feel like we are about to cross some evil barrier, darling," he whispered painfully. "I feel like we are about to enter a world we do not understand."
Maggie laughed savagely. "That is putting it mildly, I would imagine," she said, grimly. "That is the understatement of the year."
Their second cigarettes were just about completely finished by now, merely two smoldering stubs they held carefully between their fingers. They puffed on them fiercely now, trying to get as much of the powerful herb as they could into their bodies, reluctant to finish smoking them and proceed to the next stage of their experiment.
They sucked the last of the smoke into their lungs, then and exhaled deeply. Finally, they turned and gazed at each other, smiling crookedly. They were both trembling realizing that the moment could now no longer be avoided.
Dashiell gazed at his wife, his eyes roaming slowly over her body, now, in an attempt to get the excitement surging inside of him. He saw her breasts, rising and falling gently against her sheer, white blouse, the outline of the small, pert globes perfect against the material of the garment.
He gazed at the shorts she was wearing, a tight, crotch hugging pair that were clearly indented at the V of her mound. Her long, sleek legs were trembling now, damp with sweat, the thighs quivering deliciously.
He moaned softly, shaking his head as he stared at her, the hunger in his loins increasing rapidly. She saw the look in his eyes, growing feverish, and she shuddered as she felt the vibrations coming off of him, now.
"Remember darling, I'm a pig," she whispered to him softly. "I'm a slut, a bitch that needs disciplining. I've done terrible things, disobeyed you, been haughty and self-centered. I need punishing for all that."
Her voice was soft and melodic, rich with the promise of passion that she always offered to him. He moaned, his hands clenching into fists, beating a soft tattoo against his hard, muscular thighs.
"I've mocked you darling," she whispered more sensuously, now. "I've demanded you act in certain ways, tried to make you perform for my benefit. I'm a bitch, darling, a bitch that needs to be put in her place."
Dashiell tried desperately to, call upon his talent, memory and experience, now. He tried to put himself in the place she suggested, the role she told him he must play. He shut his eyes and imagined her teasing him, mocking him and refusing to obey him when he commanded her to do something.
"Let go, darling, let go of everything," she hissed at him frantically, now. "Don't hold a single thing back! Think of how wonderful it will be to command me to punish me for all the things I have done to annoy you! Think of how delightful it will be to give me the discipline I need!"
She ran her hands over his chest and slithered them down into his lap, now. "Umm, I can feel you already, darling," she laughed, softly. "You're already getting hard and strong for me! You want me, don't you my love? You want to punish me and take me savagely, now. Well, go ahead. I deserve it. I deserve to be punished."
Dashiell Talbot shuddered as he felt his wife's fingers at his groin, kneading and squeezing his cock through his trousers. He remembered how she had taunted him over, the last few months, mocked him when he turned away from her advances.
She had tried to pressure him into things, when he had done them for her! While he was trying to protect her, she had been so ungrateful as to condemn him, to shout and scream at him. The little bitch was too stupid to understand, and too self-centered to realize how good he had been to her.
He opened his eyes and stared at her angrily. He saw her sweet, perfect face, grinning at him then, mocking him again, he assumed. The bitch always tried to run things, he realized, always tried to get her own way. He should show her who was the master, he thought, show her who was in charge.
"You pig," he snarled, pushing her away from him rudely. "You ungrateful little scum! You can't thinks of anyone but yourself!"
Laughing, harshly, Maggie nodded now. "That's right, of course," she hissed at him. "Who should I think of, you?"
Her face was a sneering mask then, and Dashiell surrendered to the overpowering urge that washed through him, then. He slashed out his hand, cracking his palm hard against her cheek, knocking her off the bed and onto the floor.
"You need a lesson, bitch," he snarled as he gazed down, with great satisfaction, at her moaning on the floor. "You need to be taught your place!"
She glanced up at him, mocking him cruelly. "Who's going to teach me that?" she laughed coldly. "You, I don't think you're man enough!"
The rage boiled inside of the young man now and he stood up from the bed, kicking her hard in the side. She winced with the pain, rolling over on her back, still grinning at him viciously.
"Teach me, then, you bastard," she snarled at him with a icy chill in her voice. "Come on, Dash, show me who the master is!"
"God, you really want it, don't you?" he hissed, his eyes blazing with rage, now.
Maggie nodded wildly, something stirring inside of her that she did not quite recognize but felt compelled to follow. Her husband was standing over her then, glaring at her savagely, giving off more power and force than she ever remembered.
"Yes, yes damn you, show me, now," she gasped, her own voice twisted and strained beyond anything she bad heard before. "Show me you are, my master, give me what I need!"
Savagely he kicked her in the rump. "All right, bitch," he growled angrily. "I'll show you! I'm going to punish you for toying with me! I'm going to give you the discipline you've had coming for a good, long time!"
He kicked her again and she gasped in pain. "Crawl, you scum, crawl over to the God damn chair," he hissed, kicking her once more. "Get over there, bitch, your time of punishment is at hand!"
Moaning, her bottom throbbing with the pain of his kicks, she began to move slowly across the floor toward the big, soft easy chair on the other side of the room. He walked behind her, kicking her several more times in a harsh, brutal manner.
She gasped as his foot slammed into her once- more, rolling on her side from the pain and force of the kick. She gazed up into his eyes and felt a. powerful rush of excitement racing through her, then, as she saw the fierce passion in them, now.
"You worthless bitch," he snarled viciously. "I'm going to give you a beating like you've never had before. I'm going to discipline you now, as I should have long ago! You're going to get a lesson all right, I promise you!"
He reached down and took hold of her shoulders, pulling her to her feet. She sobbed as he twisted her around and slapped her violently across her face. She screamed with pain as the blows landed, throwing her back against the chair.
"Strip, you scum," he snarled at her once again. "Take off those clothes and prepare yourself for punishment, pig!"
Her face still stinging with the pain of his slaps, she quickly unbuttoned her blouse. The pain that was throbbing in her cheeks was curiously pleasing to her, now, as she allowed herself to experience the strange pleasure at being powerless in front of his rage.
She slipped the blouse from her shoulders, baring her pert, riped breasts to his eyes. The nipples were like tiny, pink nuggets against the smooth, creamy mounds, and they trembled with the excitement rushing through them, now.
Eagerly, she ran the zipper down on her shorts and unsnapped the button. She slithered the shorts and her panties down over her hips and thicks, kicking her legs frantically to free herself of the unwanted garments.
Dashiell Talbot stared hungrily at his wife's naked body now. Her smooth, luscious thighs flared delightfully, already damp with excitement, and her cunt mound was moist and glistening deliciously.
"You think you're such a good-looking cunt, don't you?" he hissed at her. "I'm going do something about that, bitch! I'm going to give you a little red to go with that creamy color you have!"
She sat in the chair, trembling, her eyes following him as he went to the fire place. Above the mantle, fastened by hooks, hung a long, ugly whip. Its leather handle and vicious strand were gleaming, and he removed it from the hooks, cracking it against the floor as he turned to face her once more.
She gasped as she watched him gripping the handle tightly, balancing the tool in his hand. As he approached her, she shivered with fear and anticipation, knowing that he intended to use it on her, now.
"Are you afraid, scum?" he laughed savagely. "Are you frightened, bitch?"
She nodded wildly, terror racing through her violently, now. "Yes, yes, Dash, I'm scared," she moaned, softly. "Ohh, God, I'm so afraid, darling!"
Cracking the whip against the floor, the man laughed wildly, again. "Good, that's very good! Fear makes the pain worse, scum," he cackled. "You'll really be able to enjoy your suffering, if you're scared!"
As he drew near to her now, the young woman moaned in total horror and fear. Never in her life had Maggie been this frightened, never had she felt such overpowering terror. There was something delicious about her fear, though, something more compelling and more powerful than anything she had ever felt before.
She imagined the whip lashing against her brutally, thought of how savage and fierce the pain would be. She drew deep from her inner desires, latched on to the forbidden passion for agony and nodded in her excitement, now.
"Ohh, yes, Dash, punish me, now," she moaned, softly. "I… I can't wait, darling, I can't wait for the discipline you're going to give me!"
"You need this, don't you, pig?" he laughed, rubbing the handle of the whip against her breasts, now. "You need to feel the pain, don't you, scum?"
She felt the cold, harsh leather against her breasts, scraping her soft, tender flesh painfully and she shuddered as a perverse pleasure ripped through her, now. She rocked back and forth, nodding, the passion to be hurt surging in her at an unbelievable rate.
"Ummm, I want it, I want the pain," she moaned softly. "I want to feel you hurting me, Dash. I need it, badly!"
Her husband stepped back from her then, grinning in a cruel, cold fashion. He laughed sharply, dragging the whip behind him, then. "Don't worry, scum," he assured her viciously. "You're going to get all the punishment you need!"
He whirled the whip around his head, then and lashed out with it, cracking it hard against his wile's breasts. She had turned away at the last moment, and the cruel tip of the lash nicked her precious globes, painfully.
She screamed as the blow landed, the pain surging through her worse than she had imagined, it drove deep into her boobs, and the precious mounds quivered with the force of the blow.
Instantly, he pulled his arm quickly back and then cracked the whip against her naked thighs with as much power and brutal force as he had struck her breasts. She screamed again, bending over as the agony tore through her lovely limbs.
Laughing savagely, he lashed at her bowed back, then, bringing the whip down with full force against her shoulders. Sobbing with agony, she dropped to her knees, quivering violently on the carpet at his feet.
"How do you like that, scum?" he hissed, cracking the whip now against her soft, spongy buttocks. "How do you like the punishment, pig!"
She was lying on the floor, now, moaning and quivering with the lingering effects of the blows. Her bottom tingled with pain, throbbing savagely as if he had placed a burning iron against her flesh. Her shoulders ached as if he had cracked a heavy piece of wood against them. "It's… it's marvelous," she gasped, shuddering with agony, then. "Ohh, God, Dash, it's better than I imagined. Again, darling, give me what I deserve, again!"
Dashiell Talbot stared at his wife's quivering body, seeing the effects of his blows already, as the bright red welts began to form on her lovely, white flesh. He felt a powerful throbbing in his loins, and brought the whip down hard on her bottom once again, listening as the delightful crack of it striking her was followed by the scream that was torn from her lips.
As the welts continued to burst out over her creamy skin, the thundering excitement grew stronger in his loins. More than ever before, he could feel a tense, throbbing delight at inflicting punishment, much stronger than all the times he had been forced to in the past.
He gazed at her quivering buttocks, so delightful in their shape and form, quivering so adorably with pain, now. He cracked the whip against them once more, and she jerked in agony, the tender half moons shivering delightfully under the blow again.
"Yes, my little bitch," he hissed, lashing at the base of her spine with the cruel, harsh weapon in his hand. "You deserve this, you surely do!"
Maggie writhed on the carpet, the stinging pain nearly overwhelming her, now, with all its brutal force. Never had she felt such driving agony, such pounding hurt. She sobbed as he lashed her again with the vicious instrument, now tearing open the soft, warm flesh of her shoulders with one, harsh blow.
As the blood began to well up out of the small wound, Dashiell Talbot felt the fever of his desire to hurt her growing even stronger. He brought the weapon down as hard as he could on her bottom again, and he drew a deep, red slash in her perfect bottom with the blow.
"Get up, scum, get up and lean over the chair," he snarled. "I want you bent over for me, welcoming the punishment you deserve!"
Maggie groaned on the carpet, now, pulling herself upward and over the soft, wide arm of the chair, then. She was trembling violently, the throbbing hurt racing through her with more force than ever before.
Her flesh was highly sensitized from tile grass she had smoked, and she could feel the full effects of the blows as her husband struck her, now. Each time he lashed at her flesh, the pain would throb through her with a most wonderful power and force, and her agony was driving all other sensations out of her flesh, now.
She clung desperately to the pleasure she had discovered in her pain. Somehow, the agony had a powerful ability to please her in a way she had never dreamed of. She found herself no longer having to pretend or will pleasure to the surf ace of her pain, it was now mingling deliciously with the agony on its own.
She lay across the arm of the chair, now, her long, lithe body quivering in spasms of continual hurt. She could hardly see for the blinding, red mist that had formed in front of her eyes, and the only sound she could hear, almost, was the gasp of her own tortured breathing.
Dashiell's cock was pounding in his pants as he gazed at his wife's quivering body. He moaned with desire, and brought the whip down savagely against her back once more, crossing the first wound with another.
"God, I hope you love this punishment as much as I do, scum," he snarled savagely. "I hope you enjoy being disciplined as much as I enjoying doing it to you!"
The young woman moaned, shuddering once more as the harsh, cruel whip cracked into her spine once more. She jerked her head back, moaning as the pain tore through her like a white hot blade.
"I do, darling, ohh, God, I do," she sobbed. The horror of his agony was overwhelming, now, even more than the fact that she was enjoying it so completely. "I love it, Dash, more, give me more.!"
He attacked her in a frenzy, now, cracking the whip against her spine and buttocks, lashing the tip of it cruelly against her thighs and shoulders. His ability with the lash returned to him from his childhood, and he was able to measure and time his blows perfectly, now.
The violence of his assault on her was increasing, as the blood continued to well up in her wounds and drip from them in a sickening fashion. The girl jerked and twisted
with each blow, the pain throbbing in her flesh, growing and growing in intensity.
For Dashiell Talbot, now, his wife's suffering was all that mattered. He thrilled to her screams, and the way she begged him to abuse her more. He loved seeing her lovely flesh torn by the whip, bleeding and marred by his abuse.
He lashed her repeatedly, now, never pausing as he cracked the whip against her body, never ceasing even to draw a breath, now.
She shuddered and gasped, nearly fainting under the impact of the attack by this time. Her body was merely trembling spasmodically, now, rocking from left to right against the arm of the chair, the soft moans of pain all that escaped her lips, now.
"You love this, don't you darling?" Dashiell whispered after a moment. He bent down and pressed the handle of the whip against her blood-stained shoulders. "You love to be punished like this, don't you, bitch?"
"Umm, it's so wonderful," she sighed, her voice trembling in a harsh, soft whisper. "I need this suffering, I need this punishment! But don't stop, Dash, don't stop, now, I beg of you, don't!"
Her voice was rich and sincere and the young man's cock pounded savagely in his trousers, now. His lust was burning in his loins with more fierce wanting than he had ever known. He groaned thickly, mashing his groin against her naked, damp thigh.
"I don't intend to stop, bitch," he whispered, almost sensuously, now. "I've just begun! Part of your discipline is to be sexual, remember?"
She shivered with excitement when he said that. His tongue was licking at the nape of her neck, and his free hand slithered under her body and began to fondle one of her breasts, cruelly.
She moaned once more as she felt him taking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolling the tender nugget back and forth between them. She sobbed as he pinched the sweet pebble cruelly, sending a harsh, stinging pain racing through her precious globe.
"Ohh, fuck me, darling," she gasped. She thrust her beaten, raw buttocks against his groin in an erotic manner. "Umm, fuck me hard, right now, my love!"
He squeezed her breast savagely in his hand, then, and she gasped as the pain tore through her. He laughed at her trembling agony and drew the whip down over her buttocks. She moaned as she felt the hard, cold leather handle slithering along her anal cleft, twisting between her buttocks, savagely. He pushed it beneath her, then, and rubbed it back and forth against her cunt.
"I'm going to fuck you, bitch," he snarled cruelly, scraping the handle brutally against her cunt lips. "I'm going to fuck you in the ass, and cunt at the same time!"
"Yes, yes, please, please," she moaned, feeling the handing probing between her pussy lips now. "Fuck me in the ass with your cock, Dash, put the whip in my cunt!"
The idea stimulated her violently now, for he was rubbing the handle against her clit at this point and the wonderful, pulsating waves of delight were rippling through her pussy in a maddening fashion. She could feel the throbbing pleasure racing along her inner flesh, and the idea that he would take her bottom, while fucking her with the handle of the whip was exciting beyond measure, now.
She felt him poking the hard, heavy weapon at her pussy, ruthlessly, now, and she moaned as he wedged the hard, thick prong into her cunt. The thickness of the handle forced her pussy to widen considerably, and it made her cunt ache savagely as he twisted the leather tool inside of her.
His fingers were at her buttocks, now, kneading and caressing them harshly. She felt his digits digging into her fleshy half moons, squeezing and kneading them cruelly, now, forcing her body to jerk and shudder with the sheer agony of his caress. It was obvious to her, that he cared nothing for how she felt, and that only excited her all the more.
She felt the fingers slithering along the cleft between her soft, warm buns, poking savagely at her warm, anal dot. She had never imagined being taken in this fashion before, and the cruelty with which he was approaching the assault made her moan with excitement and need.
She felt his finger now stabbing at her ruby opening, and her rectal muscles tightened suddenly, baring the entrance to her moist, warm pit. She sighed quietly with need as she felt him pushing the finger against her rectum insistently, driving it into her pit with a harsh and sudden force.
The pain of the invasion was like a burning rod entering her bum. "Ohh, Jesus, that hurts," she moaned. "That hurts so good!"
He laughed and twisted his finger against the warm, spongy flesh of her anal interior, felt her flesh rippling around his plunging spear. He sank the prong deep into her bum, then, burying his finger to the hilt in her hot, narrow passage.
His cock pounded between his thighs with unbelievable power, now. Never before had he felt so stimulated, so agonizingly hungry for sex. He felt her bum walls undulating around his finger, and.through the thin membrane of flesh that separated them, he could feel the hard handle of the whip he had pushed into her cunt.
He turned the handle savagely inside her pussy, now, while running his finger back and forth along her anal walls. The young woman screamed with the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure she felt, nodding her head in delight.
"Ohh, God, more, do it more, darling," she moaned. "Ummm, discipline me, Dash, punish me good, darling, good!"
"You need this, bitch, you need this badly," he moaned, his own lust surging through him wildly, then. "I'm going to hurt you, scum, really going to make you pay for being an evil bitch!"
As his finger rode in and out of her asshole, flow, he twisted and turned the digit against her flesh, savagely. He felt her bucking and jerking violently under the assault, and his finger grew wet and slippery from the warm, thick juice that was lubricating her hum, now.
It was obvious that she was receiving as much, or even more pleasure as he was out of all this, and he drove his prong into her asshole with a violent fury, then. He pumped the handle in and out of her cunt at the same time, and the young woman was lurching savagely under the attack, now.
"It's marvelous, simply marvelous," she sobbed, her whole body seized by the sensations she was experiencing. "Ohh, Dash, Dash, it's wonderful, yes, wonderful!"
Dashiell Talbot could hardly believe how achingly powerful his own lust was becoming. His prick quaked with wanting and his loins boiled with the need that was roaring through him. His balls were churning with hot, steaming come, and the huge sack seemed to be swelling to a point of bursting between his thighs.
He felt her bum muscles locking hard around his finger and he cackled savagely as he turned it against them. "God, you need a good ass fucking, scum," he hissed. "You need a good one, badly!"
He pulled his finger from her rectum and the young woman sobbed in agreement, now.
"Yes, Dash, yes I do," she moaned, wildly. "Ohh, fuck me, Dash, fuck my asshole, now! Do it hard, darling, do it hard, please!"
Dash could not believe how hot her pit felt as he slid his long, thick shaft between her soft, spongy buttocks. He felt the tender cheeks locking against his meat and he gasped as he pushed the head of his tool against her trembling dot.
She moaned thickly and bucked against him, now, eagerly accepting the hard, pounding weapon into her bum. Both of them nearly screamed as he entered her, for her flesh was on fire with need, and his meat was aching with desire.
He forced the huge prick into her tiny passage and the young woman sobbed with delight at the violent penetration. She jerked spasmodically as he thrust into her, her rectum expanding wide under his ruthless invasion.
The hard, throbbing spear buried itself in the very depths of her anal track, now, and pounded savagely in the pit of her tender bum. She felt the surging blood tearing through his shaft, now, and the thrill of it being deep in her asshole nearly overwhelmed her with lust.
He felt her shuddering uncontrollably beneath him, now, and he rammed his prick into her as hard as he could, then. She screamed in delight, twisting and turning as the powerful spasms rocked her, aching loins.
The climax soared in her pussy, violently, making her shudder and jerk again and again, while her husband continued to slam his prick into her asshole, cruelly. She sobbed with delight, enjoying the rolling warmth that rippled in her pit, while the surging manhood continued to power into her aching asshole.
Suddenly he was driving into her bum, with more power and force than ever before. He was gasping for breath as he slammed into her, now, twisting and turning, moaning with delight as he neared his moment of release.
"You scum, you bitch, I'm going to come," he moaned, thickly. "I'm going to come in your asshole, now, you pig!"
She felt him drive his cock to the pit of her rectum, then, burying his tool to the hilt as the climax exploded in his balls. Waves of thick, hot come spurted from his shaft, and she screamed as she felt the delight of his creamy lust washing over her tortured inner walls.
He shuddered savagely inside of her then, twisting and moaning as he emptied his loins in her aching asshole.