Corrine's little 'incident' at the corner of the gas station!

 

I cry out in pain from the agony im receiving. I out stretch my hand in the dark of the night that surrounds us and scream out your name. Begging you to show up. Begging you to help me. Maybe your cameras will see that at the edge of the gas station, where the street lamp cannot reach, I am there.

I take another kick to my stomach followed by shouts of hate spewed at me, but I cant make them out anymore. Im staring at the concrete, where your feet should appear. Where they should come running. Suddenly a belt is wrapped around my throat and tightening with each passing of a second. “mercy…” I choked out.

“oh don’t cry mercy little flower. We’ve only just begun.” and I knew he was serious. He was meticulous, cruel and vile with his methods. Drawing them out as long as painfully possible. It was my ‘punishment’ after all.

“this is what you deserve little flower. What you get. You disgust me.” he spits in my face then slaps it making my head hit the concrete yet again.

My breathing becomes rapid as I start to see stars. Panic filling my lungs as they cannot get what they desire.

I hear the jingling of a belt and know whats to come. The tears that were staining my face were pleading with you shouting the words ‘please don’t’. knowing it was completely futile. I knew what was to come.

I’ve accepted my fate at this point, and do nothing to fight it. What would be the point anyway? So I lay there, staring at the concrete corner of the gas station. Awaiting a rescue that will never come. I’ve accepted that too.

I felt him enter me, as more tears spilled over. Seeing those beautiful stars in my vision as it fades in and out.

Feeling him thrust harder, and harder, faster and faster. Know he will come to an end soon. It will never be soon enough though. What mere minutes, hell, mere seconds, feels like hours. Like the world around me has stopped. The only two people in the world right now are me and him.

 

I feel you thrust one last time and suddenly im covered in your filth as it stains my body. That pretty color of white staining me black. I have been ruined. Soiled. The belt is released and I gasp desperately for oxygen as my lungs clings to every tiny bit it gets. Absorbing it to bring me back to life.

 

Why didn’t you just kill me? Why let me live? I see….so that I’ll always remember this pain. This torture. To remeber how you felt as you abused me. What getting bruises from you is like. To always remember your scent. Your harsh voice as it threw evil words at me.

 

To always remember who it was who stained me.

 

I hear the tapping of running shoes, but I didn’t see. I didn’t want too anymore. I didn’t care. Let me die. Its what I now deserve. Arms scoop me up and craddle me. You call my name but im not here anymore. That girl is gone. Lost, drowning, in her own tears in her head. Deep, inside the darkness.

 

You yell out my name drenched in fear and panic; but I cant be reached. I am simply put; defeated. 

Erotic Nipple Play!

 

being home alone and missing you; I allowed my bored mind to wander. Making sure the curtains were closed, I shimmied out of my sweater and slipped my fingers under the shoulder strap of my bra. Reaching to rub my shoulder blade where a tag or something had been digging in and driving me crazy all day. Reaching back, I unhooked the three little hooks holding it together, and slipped it off.

I shivered and arched my back.

Tossing my soft yellow bra onto the pile of manuals in the chair beside me, i cupped my hands under my breasts, hefting their weight, feeling my nipples harden into pebbles.

I leaned my head against the back of the chair, closed my eyes, and imagined you here with me. In my mind you were sitting next to me, dark, long-fingered hand resting on my thigh as you merely watched, silently commanding me to your bidding, a half-smile on your face. Your eyes were burning with desire, that sweet melted-chocolate brown seeming to caress every inch of my body.

Tipping my head to let my hungry eyes drink their fill of you, I kept my hands in place, touching myself through the soft cotton of my shirt, reveling in the passion that kept flaring in your eyes. Without even realizing it, I stopped merely cupping my breasts and started caressing them.

I lifted them, squeezing them together, arching my back and literally offering them to you.

I slid my palms over my nipples, feeling that sweet electric thrill shoot through me, making me gasp in anticipation. Gently I tweaked my stiffened nipples, tugging on them ever so lightly. I slipped my own hands over, around, under, between my breasts, alternately hiding those thick nipples from your view and pulling my shirt tightly across them, accentuating my state of arousal.

Still you watched.

I curled my fingers, raking my nails over my breasts, cushioning that scrape with the softness of my shirt. I moaned, my eyes sliding closed at the flare of desire in yours. Oh how I wanted your hands to caress me, your skin to be touching mine.

Still you watched.

Barely able to keep from writhing in my seat now, I slid my hands under my shirt. Pulling it up around my neck and completely exposing myself to your gaze.

The contrasting heat of my need and coolness of the air made me gasp and squirm. The heat of my hands was shocking after the coolness of the kitchen table. Where the underside of my breasts had briefly rested as my back arched in offering.

Whimpering, I stroked those full, aching mounds, the throbbing nipples a dusky pink against the whiteness of my breasts. I slid my hands over the curve of my breasts, running my nipples in between my fingers, caressing and squeezing them. As my passion increased, so did my tolerance for pain, and I began to twist and pinch my throbbing nipples.

 

 

Part 2:

Finally, knowing how close I was to the brink of orgasm from both my touch and your burning gaze, you gave me relief. Leaning over, you slid your hand from my thigh to the underside of my breast, cupping it in your palm, feeling that hot, heavy weight for yourself.

Bending down, you held your mouth so close to my nipple that I could feel the moistness of your breath. Softly before the next breath cooled it with a rush of indrawn air. You hovered there, relishing the sight of my torment as I twisted and strained. Trying everything to feel your lips wrap around the nipple that you kept just out of reach.

"please touch me" I begged.

Tilting your eyes up, you watched the expressions flicker across my face, indicators of just how incredibly close I was to the edge of reason, just how desperately hungry I was for your touch. My whimpers and gasps and moans were music to your ears, a symbol of my arousal that you never tired of hearing.

"Touch them," you whispered. In my anticipation of your caress, my hands had fallen, limp, into my lap.

I whined, shifting in my chair, aching unbearably with the need to feel you lips on me. I closed my eyes and tried to calm the storm of need raging through me.

"Watch," you said, that one simple word ringing with quiet authority.

I shivered in reaction, my hands automatically moving to do your bidding. I touched them gently, so aroused that I trembled with need. You knew how I wished that my breasts were younger, firmer, perkier for you, but you like the way they are, weighty in your hand, hot on your skin. You like their sensitivity, even to such simple sensations as my soft tank top rubbing over my bare nipples, or a cool breeze blowing across my exposed breasts.

Groaning in the agony of your continued torment, aching to feel the soft heat of your mouth encase me, I leaned back again, trying to force you to do what I so desperately needed. My shirt slipped down without my chin pinning it in place, and you growled in displeasure as it caught against my nipples, threatening to cover me.

Your hand still cupping my breast, you told me to take it off.

I looked at you, momentarily incapable of thought. Your brow rose at my hesitation, and I knew you'd merely prolong my agony if I didn't obey. Unable to look away from the desire in your eyes, I slipped out of my shirt, vulnerable with the knowledge that I was now topless, completely exposed...while you were still fully dressed. I trembled in the cool air.

Your free hand fisted in the length of my hair. You tugged sharply, my quick cry of pain melting into mewls of pleasure as your lips breeched the distance to my nipple and engulfed it. Teeth nibbling, tongue swirling, you couldn't help but respond to my wordless cries, my constant writhing, as I exploded right there in my chair, a hot, wet gush of pleasure that sent tremors of need rippling through your own body.

I open my eyes and realize that it was just that. A fantasy. A longing. I could feel my heart and soul cry out to you. Missing you. Wont you come play with me? don’t you know how much I crave you?