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Heartbreakers IX


“Look what you did!”

She was grinning ear to ear, pulling down her pants and showing me the bruises on her ass.

My head was throbbing. I think I was still drunk. I don’t even remember what happened the night before. I mumbled something.

“Oh, you were so loud! I bet she heard us. But she knew not to ask, ha!” She was giggling now, like a school girl. I still didn’t remember what happened and I had a feeling she was blaming me for that ugly purple bruise covering half her butt cheek. Or maybe crediting me is a better way to put it.

“Oooh, you were so rough. Look, you did this! Look!” She pulled her panties to the side to show off the rest of her ass, covered with a horrible looking purple bruise.

She was smiling so I guess she liked it. Whatever it was. I still didn’t remember what happened, although I was sort of hazily remembering walking up the stairs to the bedroom, brandishing my belt – but that was it. I must have blacked out after that part. God knows what I did. Fucking whiskey, it should be illegal for me to drink it.

Oh, and I sort of remember doing the “no talking” routine. They seem to like that, it’s sort of “verbal topping.” Oh shit, I sort of do remember what I did. Barking the orders, the belt, the whiskey. You hardly have to “role play” abusive drunken sadistic psuedo-rapist if you are one.

But there she was, bright and chipper the next morning, sticking out her ass and showing off the bruises, smiling and giggling, clearly enjoying herself. She evidently freaking loved last night, and I hadn’t seen her that chipper in years. These women are nuts, I’m telling you. You wouldn’t believe the shit they are into.

“Oh god, this is going to destroy our friendship,” I moaned. “Look, let’s just keep this between us ok? No need to tell her. Or anyone.”

What the hell had I gotten myself into? Never fuck your friends, it’s always trouble. Drama. She was supposed to be editing my stories, not becoming part of them.

“No, it won’t change anything,” she insisted. “We’re still friends! But, still, look!” The smile again. That bruise looked nasty. So it’s sort of coming back a bit. I had been promising her this for a while, and I had finally delivered. Frankly, I was kind of embarrassed about the whole thing. It’s so cheesy, but I have to admit it can be super fucking hot.



“You bruised my arm too, look here. You were manhandling me.” She said it in a low, conspiratorial tone, with a bit of mocking. She smirked. Then she sort of sighed, this wistful kind of thing.

God I promised myself I wouldn’t fuck her. We had almost done it a few times but I always held back because it would destroy the friendship. And she was my best friend. In some ways, the only person I could trust. I knew I could trust her because I chose her.

Out of a crowd. A total stranger. It’s the only way I could be sure. So I picked her. I wasn’t trying to pick her up, per se. Sure, I was flirting but I really just wanted someone to talk to. But we hit it off really well. So the second time we hung out, I decided to not try to score. She would be up for it, but if we started fucking, the minute we stopped, or started fucking someone else, the friendship would be over. Plus I was already doing Little Miss Fuck and Run, who I met the same night.

Whisperer was my secret nickname for her, and since it wasn’t at all demeaning, I told her. Well, she read the story and knew it was her.

So now we were fucking. And not just vanilla stuff either, the whole 9 yards. Stuff I hadn’t done in years. Oh I knew she was a total sub – they all are, from what I can tell. Never met one who wasn’t at least a bit. But she was self-aware. She knew what she was, and was fine with it. She had been fantasizing about the belt for a while it seems.

spanked-bottom-3But now what? They are like heat sinks. There’s no level of abuse they won’t take and keep coming back for more – no, demanding more. Rougher, harder, more pain, more humiliation – more heat – and it just disappears, dissipated by that heat sink. Sort of like when they are asleep and their feet get really cold, and they always leech your body heat to warm themselves back up. Vampires. I may as well make a joke about stealing our precious bodily fluids.

But I did it. The whole deal, and of course she loved it. I could almost hear her now, on the phone, spilling all the secrets, telling everyone what I did and that would go through the whole circle of friends in a week. I was already a marked man now. I’ll be the abusive asshole that fucks his friends, then they will call and want me to fuck them too. The next day her friend is asking me about some fetish club she wants to go to. Oh god what have I gotten myself into?


2 comments on “Heartbreakers IX

  1. Hipster Racist
    May 26, 2014

    Reblogged this on Hipster Racist.

  2. Pingback: The Life and Times of Hipster Racist | Hipster Racist


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