Per Subiugum Libertas Part 4 (Mf bdsm) by Foxbat


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Per Subiugum Libertas Part 4 by Foxbat




   There is a beautiful, transcendent clarity that comes immediately with orgasm and endures for only a few seconds afterward.  Complete satisfaction.  Emptiness, in a pleasant way, of lust, desire, thought even.  You don't think thoughts, you just see naked Truth and Reality.  You can see for miles, perceiving things in the gestalt.  It's pure zen.  And it's highly addicting.

   Some people achieve this clarity with drugs.  Others meditate.  It's not unlike the runner's high, or the calm and clarity of working out to the point of exhaustion.  Everyone craves this feeling (or really non-feeling), and everyone finds a different way to achieve it.


* * * 

   Didi first discovered this feeling through our relationship.  When things didn't go her way before, she ran to her boyfriend who had the patience of a saint and would slowly talk her out of her neurotic fits.  Now, she had found a different cure, in the strictness and rules, in the crescendo of lust, all for the few precious moments of absolute release.

   In the month or two since we had started having sex, Didi's resistance to my demands crumbled.  In her fucked up way, she became an orgasm junkie, willing to do almost anything I asked in faith that it would end with her trembling, a look of rapture frozen on her face.

   Although I admit that part of the fun was the fight, I was quite happy with our arrangement.  Once a week we would meet, and I dutifully fulfilled my role as tour-guide, building an experience for her in just the right proportions.  It's hard to complain when you're regularly jizzing on the pretty face of an 18-year-old.

* * *

   Disaster almost occurred one cold day in February.  Didi had hoped to captain one of the sports teams in the spring of her senior year.  Any sane person (so no Didi) would realize that having someone so emotionally delicate as a captain was a recipe for disaster.  Needless to say, she didn't come close to getting it, despite being one of the best players.  

   I was just settling down to my afternoon masturbation session when a red-faced sobbing Didi burst into my apartment.  I had known she might not get elected, but coming unannounced at a time when her friends would be looking for her was totally unacceptable.  

   She stood in the entry way, chest heaving, wiping her tears, looking at me with those eyes that somehow made this my responsibility.  I was angry at the interruption, angry at the stupidity of coming here, and weary of the responsibility.  I decided to give her what she wanted, but at additional cost.

   Naked, I strode over to where she stood.  I spun her around, smashing her between my body and the closed cold metal door, roughly groping her.  I paused for a moment to yank her shorts and underwear over her hips.  I guided my raging erection into her dry pussy.

   She made a noise halfway between a scream and a sob, the insistent kind that infants make when crying hasn't gotten them what they want, but I muffled it with my hand.  Tears, snot and spit mixed as I pressed her face against the door and thrust with slow violence into her.  Although bone dry at first, Didi was one of the juiciest girls I'd ever been with, and it didn't take long for her pussy to produce it's usual copious lubrication.  

   I withdrew, realigned, and penetrated her asshole in one smooth thrust.  Pussy cream mingled with the tears and snot as I muffled another hoarse sob-scream.  I wiped my hand across her face, smearing everything together as I took my first full stroke in her tight ass.  Her sobbing became noiseless as I violated her, my hands moving from her messy face to squeeze and pinch her tits, to roughly penetrate the folds of her dripping pussy.  Didi shuddered through an orgasm, pressed between the hard coldness of the door, and the hard warmth of my body.  

   I grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her to the ground.  I slapped her thighs open and penetrated from behind again, pushing her forwards off her hands and onto the cold linoleum floor of my entry way.  I buried a few fingers in her snatch, and I continued working her asshole with my cock in slow hard strokes as I thought of all the times I'd just wanted to fuck the world up the ass.  I slapped Didi hard across the ass, and put my foot on her cheek, contorting her face against the floor as she continued sobbing and gasping dryly, lost in the loss of control between pain and pleasure.

   I ground my cock into her abused anus as I felt my orgasm approach.  I yanked her head up by her hair, keeping two fingers hooked into her pussy and a thumb working her clit.  As I felt her orgasm, I ejaculated my shit-stained jizz onto her face.

* * * 


   I wondered how thorough violation and degradation could lead to such innocence, as I watched Didi sleeping, a faint smile gracing her face.  After she had come down, I'd cleaned her off with a warm washcloth and carried her to my bed.  She slept like a baby for the next few hours, as if the overload of emotion had overflowed and reset some counter, or had merely left no room for other considerations.  As I settled in next to her, exhausted, I felt slightly jealous that she could so easily find such total redemption.  







---
The End



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