30th August 2010
Before I get started on this post I just want to say that in no way do I condone the act of rape against a woman. This is a post about a scene that took place between my Master and I, which was to be a lesson learnt on my part.
It all started with a discussion about the film The Accused with Jodie Foster. I am sure if you have seen the film you will all remember the scene in which she is raped in a bar by a group of men. It is harrowing and brutal and I can remember watching it all those years ago when it first came out and feeling the heat rising in my cheeks. It was one of those scenes where it made me uncomfortable, part of me wanted to turn away, turn it off even, and the other part of me was glued to the screen. Now many years later, a discussion about that exact scene was the trigger for what became known as the ‘Jean’s challenge’.
Maybe I was being naive, but I told him that I reckoned that if I had my tightest jeans on with a belt and it was an even fight, in other words no weapons or restraints, just his physical strength against mine, then he would not be able to get me out of the afore mentioned jeans. He chuckled and without hesitation just said “Yes I could”. I probably should have known then that I was doomed, but my own self belief in my determination to show him otherwise lead to me saying, “Go on then, show me”
This discussion had rambled on and off for a few months before the challenge actually took place. On the night in question I knew it was going to happen as when I enquired what I should wear out to dinner he replied, “Those tight little jeans you have, and don’t forget to do the belt up real tight too.” and the accompanying grin on his face as he said it told me everything I needed to know about what he had planned for later. The rest of our evening out is a bit of blur. I know I was fidgety and my mind kept wandering off as I tried to mentally prepare for the ‘challenge’ but he seemed not to notice, or more likely choose not to notice.
By the time we were heading home I was in a really skittish mood and when he went to kiss me on the street I pulled away. I knew it was a mistake, a challenge to him, but I was fired up and full of my own self bravado. Instantly his hand was on the back of my neck and I was being ‘guided’ up the road and down the nearest dark alleyway. However, just as I was encouraged to turn into the alley we were joined by a number of officers of the law, who were there for reasons other than us, but needless to say, a good ravaging in the said alley way was immediately cancelled and I was briefly ‘saved’ from my fate. I couldn’t help but smile……..
By the time he opened the door to our room the adrenalin was already starting to buzz round my system. I tried to hang back in the hope He would go in first, but he stepped aside and with a gentle push on the small of my back guided me across the threshold in front of him. Once inside I quickly darted across the room and round the other side of the bed. I was grinning, but he wasn’t. Now I can be pretty quick and nimble but in a hotel room there isn’t really anywhere to run to and so before I knew it I was already backed into a corner and he was reaching out to me.
Although I don’t show it often I actually have quite a competitive streak and so I was determined to win this challenge or at the very least make it harder for him than he thought and so I fought, hard and fast. Kicking and scratching and attempting to bite. I knew if he got me to the ground it would be easier for him and so I pushed and struggled and turned and twisted but I was no match for Him and within moments I was down on the floor.
I wasn’t giving up though and the struggle continued. I was making Him work hard, I knew that he was equally determined and I think had now started to realise that I wasn’t just going to give in. We were both sweating and breathless and if anyone could have seen us I think they might have wondered what the hell was going on. I was snarling and growling and my language was pretty choice, unlike Him who remained fairly silent and controlled. As I look back on it now, I realise that maybe up to this point he had held back, let me fight my fight, maybe hoping I would exhaust myself, I really don’t know, but all of a sudden he seemed to raise his game. His grip became tighter on my wrists as he twisted me round and then he was on top of me, His knee pressing into my chest and a hand firmly wrapped round my neck pinning me to the ground.
Then I learnt something about why he was going to win and I was going to end up being parted from me jeans, and that was, for me to carry on fighting would only end up in me getting hurt. Not that he would hurt me, but that I would hurt myself. One of my arms was trapped under my body and every time I tried to move, my shoulder pinched, warning me to be still, to fight now would have meant that I had to be prepared to really damage myself to stop him and I just wasn’t. I knew he was going to win by now, but that didn’t mean I was going to lay back and make it easy and so I did everything I could with my legs to make it hard for him. Twisting and turning them and finally wrapping them around each other but I was doomed and once my jeans were undone he let go of my neck and with quick efficiency ripped them down my legs and off.
Flimsy lacy knickers are no match for a man who is determined to get what he wants and with rough hands he forced my legs apart and shoved his fingers hard and deep into me and started to fuck me with them. Instantly my body started to respond and within moments I was cumming hard and deep, crying out in frustration and anger as well as pleasure at what had just happened.
It was done; he was standing over me as I lay sweating and breathless at his feet, triumphantly holding my jeans in his hand. I could see the sweat trickling down the side of his face, his breath coming hard and fast and his hard cock bulging in his jeans and as my eyes meet his I knew this wasn’t over yet………..
‘Get up Slutmine’ he commanded and reaching down he offered me a hand but the defiant slut in me wasn’t done yet and I just lay there, eyes challenging Him to make me, something I have learnt to be careful with now, because He will make me if I don’t comply. A handful of hair was all that it took to bring me to my knees and then face down over the edge of the bed my bottom exposed to Him and His loving touch.
The spanking was hard and relentless, the noise of His hand against my flesh filling the room along with my muffled cries as I buried my face in the covers. It was the hardest he had ever spanked me so far and my arse was soon burning beneath his touch and the sensations had gone from stinging to a deep burning heat that resonated throughout my body. I was no longer fighting, no longer squirming to get away, but instead offering my bottom up to him, wanting more, needing more. I was a quivering blubbering wreck, all I could focus on was the feel of his hand on my arse and the building throb between my thighs that was my pussy.
I don’t remember clearly what happened next, I was lost to myself, His to do with as he pleased. I know I was begging but I have no idea what for, did I want it to stop? Yes. Did I want more? Yes. Did I want Him? Oh yes……
I remember being made to kneel, I remember the way His cock was the hardest I think I had ever seen it. I remember the feel of it in my mouth and the way my saliva dripped down my chin as he slowly fucked my mouth. I remember being pulled to my feet and pushed back across the bed and I remember the moment as he knelt over me and finally took me. I remember the feel of his hands in my hair and his mouth on my neck as he told me that I was His and I remember crying out His name when I finally came.
Afterwards I cried and he held me and soothed me. I was destroyed. He had taken me to a new place, somewhere I had never been before, where I had lost sight of who I was, where I had become just a body that responded to His touch. The emotions overwhelmed me and my body shook and the tears flowed as I lay there broken and ravaged, His strong arms holding me tight as I slowly calmed. The jeans challenge was done, He had won, but in the process I had won too and I found myself lost to Him, he had pushed me harder than ever before.
I am lost now as I write this, struggling to find an ending that makes sense. Writing this, remembering it all over again has made me throb and ache for Him. It has made me want to challenge Him to ‘make me’ because I know he will and because in the process I know I will find that lost place all over again. My mouth is dry but my pussy is wet and I am filled with longing desire for His touch. He knows I am fired up, he warns me to be careful but I don’t want to be careful I want to be used……..
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