Til it hurts

A Painslut Sub’s Lullaby (content warning)

Content warning!

This piece includes descriptions of entirely-imaginary violence and non-consensual sex. If you would be distressed by reading this, please don’t read any further. Always take care of yourselves and each other.


Last night, tonight; we’d been greedily indulging in one another, strands of sensuality entwining us in a tangle of animal lust-fucking and reverent communion. I spread myself wide, you dug yourself deep and we slammed together until it hurt; but I couldn’t, wouldn’t stop, it was far too good. And so after we sprawl, breathless and limp from our exertions, the pain of my bruised cervix, the pain I’d laughed off with a wry shrug, not wanting to cast a shadow over the glory of what we’d just shared; builds and blooms.

Pain – without suffering. A deep ache that throbs in synchrony with my plumped and well-used cunt, my stretched hamstrings, my swollen clit. I wallow in the sensations, nurture them with dark fantasies that grab the subsiding glow of arousal and haul it back into focus

-the cold metal floor of the cage offers no comforting embrace, only its indifferent soothing of your reddened skin and aching muscles. Here, where he bound you tightly over the table, legs wide, helpless. There, where he pounded his cock into you with a silent and blank-eyed mechanical precision that called to mind the clockwork automata of your childhood nightmares-

-you were left crumpled on the floor of your cell by the gang of high-echelon executives on their illicit thrill-seeking extreme corporate-bonding trip. Their handprints still encircle your limbs from when they held you pinned, crammed themselves into your mouth and your cunt, fucked you with all the abandoned glee of robbers dividing their heist. Their year-end bonus; when the numbers begin to blur, power becomes currency. So wholly absorbed in their self-delight that they barely noticed your presence as they grabbed and bit and thrusted-

-the last of the cops has left and for the first time since you woke to see them leering at you through the bars, you are alone. Your eyes flick to the cuffs dangling from a crossbar, to the smears of spit and sweat and semen on the floor. Your face lay there beneath the boot, rough rubber against your cheek, the billy-club resting on your back alongside your cuffed wrists, warning you to keep still and quiet as one by two by three, they had their furtive fun with you-

Deep breath; almost a moan of arousal. Oh, the burning, aching sweetness. His breathing steady beside me. I smile in the darkness. Oh, you

Shift and resettle beneath the duvet.

Thinking of punishment fucking, of men with authority, of sadistic cruelty and power abused, feeling my cunt throb and twitch, my blood surge. Phantom welts and lash-marks burn my skin and I yearn to be filled again, to be fucked as though I’m stolen property.

Knowing that I’ve reached my physical limit but aflame with lust, safe here beside him, I allow the smouldering to cease, soften and fade into sleep as gently as the settling of ash.

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