"I'll make my meat special for you," I shamelessly interjected myself into his metaphor.
"Fucking me means suffering, bitch," he hissed. "It means doing it my way."
"Any way that gets your cock inside me," I continued to degrade myself. "Go ahead and make me suffer any way you can. The more it hurts, the more I'll come."
He took me at my word and violently turned my head with a slap. The cum came flying from my mouth.
Reaching down, he picked me up and threw me against a tree. For an instant I thought he'd broken my spine.
"How do you like it so far, bitch?" he asked triumphantly.
My brain was reeling. My body was aching.
"I love it!" I declared. "I love being treated like shit by you!"
"Goooood," he drawled, and then whacked me in the ribs with a stiff kick of his boot. "Now get up on your feet and stand against that tree."
Drawing strength from my runaway libido, I pumped my muscles with sufficient power to wobble to my feet. I was uncertain, but I was upright.
"You follow orders well," he assessed my performance. "I always like an obedient subject."
Well, he had one. I did nothing when he produced the endless strip of rawhide from his black leather jacket and started winding it around me. He was binding me to the tree – the rows of thong biting into the tender flesh of my breasts – and I could think of nowhere else I'd rather be.
"Now your legs," he said when he had finished incapacitating my torso. "Spread them apart as far as they'll go."
I did until my pussy ached. He smacked his lips at my effort.
Then, his brief display of appreciation over, he got down to the business of completing my bondage. Whipping out a switchblade, he cut off a length of thong and turned his attention toward my ankles.
Kneeling down, he tied a noose around one, and then looped the rawhide around the trunk of the tree. Coming around from the other side, he knotted the other ankle.
"You're gonna love this," he promised as he disappeared again around the tree.
To tease me, he jiggled the looped thong at first, tickling me with the vibrations. He wanted to be sure I figured out in advance what was going to happen so I could dread it. Apparently, Chinga wasn't sexually happy unless he was inflicting mental or physical pain.
In other words, he was a sadist.
And I was his willing masochist. "Go ahead and pull the cord," I challenged him. "I want it!"
He did. Yanking the loop, he violently pulled my feet and ankles behind the tree. My legs tightly straddled the rough bark of the wide trunk.
The pain was excruciating – and wonderful!
Eventually I realized that the only part of my body that was unencumbered was my cunt. It was throbbing in full flex between my splayed thighs. My ass must have been resting on a gnarl on the tree to make my pussy thrust out so.
"Nothing you can do to me can make me want anything but more," I told him when he was around in front again.
"We'll see," he chuckled. "We'll see."
Instinctively, my eyes dropped to the region of his cock. Seeming to be suspended in mid-air because of the equally dark backgrounds of the night and Chinga's black leather clothing, it hung flaccidly in its owner's stroking hand.
I was disappointed. I'd expected it to be hard.
Then I discovered there was a reason for it. You can't piss with a hard-on.
Suddenly Chinga was drenching me with urine. It came whizzing accurately from his cock at a distance of three feet to begin with. There was no part of me that was not saturated by the scalding discharge.
Then, gradually, as the pressure of his flow decreased, Chinga closed the space between us. By the time the head of his prick was just dribbling, he stuffed it into my mouth.
The last of his piss was delicious. Although thinner than sperm, it was as tangy as the other phallic substance is sweet. I wished I could have drunk the whole steaming load.
"You like my piss, huh?" he rasped. "Too bad I took a dump in the woods or I'd shit on you."
"Just do something more to me with your cock," I focused on the organ that was responsible for all this madness. "Piss on me, come in me, anything."
"I'll split your pussy," he announced his selection. "Then, when I'm through coming in your cunt, I'll ruin your ass."
"No matter how hard you fuck me I won't be able to do anything about it," I embellished the litany of my degradation. "I'll just have to suffer."
"And love it," he contracted the last of my obligations. "You've got to keep telling me how much you love it – even when I'm hurting you the worst."
"The more pain, the more cock I want," I emphasized my servitude. "Torture from you is better than anything from another man."
Even as I tell it now, I can't believe how completely I was under his spell. The mere presence of Chinga in this lonely forest had turned me into a mindless slave. All thought of escape was gone – all I could think of was pleasing this sadist by my suffering.
When he gripped my pussy lips and tore them to either side of my flanks, tears welled in my eyes and dribbled down my cheeks. There was no way of knowing whether they were tears of pain, or tears of joy.
With an opening about as big as a manhole in front of him, Chinga thrust his cock between my forcibly spread labia. Penetration was instantaneous and deep.
Then deeper.
Deepest. He was in me to the hilt. I felt like I was going to split in two, and hoped I did.
"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" I babbled. "Fuck me with your big, strong cock!"
"Mmmmmm, your pussy's tight," he informed me, as if I didn't know. "I love the struggle a tight pussy makes."
If he meant the constant spasming – the knotting contractions – he was right. My cunt was alive with rhythmic constriction. Even though I was bound to the tree down to the waist, I could still move my pelvis – I could still fuck back.
"Ooooooh," I moaned deliriously, "I'm fucking you back aren't I? Really giving your prick a run for the money. You can't keep me down – I'll fuck you until you drop."
"Sassy bitch!" he spat, slapping me across the face as I'd hoped he would. It was exciting getting hit while I was fucking.
"If you like to beat up women, why don't you hit me again?" I challenged his masculinity.
"Like this?" he sneered, spanking my cheek with another slinging slap.
"Yes! Now give me more – and make them hurt!"
Suddenly, I had my wish, and he was pummeling me. While his cock continued to piston within my cunt, he turned my face and neck and shoulders black and blue. With every lump he raised I felt my pussy getting a little wetter.
I was like a prizefighter caught against the ropes by a murderous opponent. No matter how much punishment I took, the restricting thongs kept me standing. I was a human punching bag.
However, to my euphoria, it was not just fists that were striking me so brutally. Throughout the violence, Chinga's cock kept pounding away between my legs. By the time I was a bloody mess, he was ready to come.
My twat filled with goo as his surging tool exploded. He was putting more in my cunt than he'd spewed down my throat. Chinga had balls.
"Now your ass," he said when he was through. "I always like to stick to my schedule."
For this one he had to change the position of my legs. The way I was now, my ass was flattened against the trunk of the tree. He had to get them up somehow.
The rawhide connecting my ankles was halved at the loop behind the tree. Then, assembling both ends, Chinga came around in front of me and seized my legs before their ache would let me move them. Grasping my calves, he yanked the limbs upward until my ankles were pressing my ears.
At this point he took the two strands of rawhide from my ankles and wickedly bound my feet to my neck. If I moved too much, I'd strangle. When I came, I'd really feel it.
There was no problem with my asshole showing now. It was throbbing like a hot coal between the splayed cheeks of my upturned butt. My pulsing anus had become the focal point of my body.