ResidentSadist
Posts: 12580
Joined: 2/11/2007
From: a mean old Daddy, but I like you - Joni Mitchell
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Guided by crazy sadistic lust, armed with cock, fueled by red wine and carried out by horny hippo . . .
My girl works 3 doubles in 3 days/weekend nights at a hospital. That's 39.5 hours in 60.5 hours from F 5:30 pm to M 6am. Work is a 40 minute drive so add 4 hours commute... basically she only gets 6 hours sleep between shifts. Not a lot of time to attend to Master on the weekends, much less herself. I've been sick with bronchitis and on antibiotics for the past 10 days.... which ended last night. I was very careful not to infect her, wiping light switches and doorknobs with bleach etc. I was successful, she escaped catching my plague. Between her work and my plague, I am about as randy as they come this morning. Also, not getting what's mine sets off a slightly sadistic edge to my sexuality. So I was doubly edgy.
Monday morning (today). The tired slave comes home with a sore back. She takes a pain pill and some other meds. Then she finds out happy frisky hippo Master has a carving for wine. She serves him his favorite Hungarian red, a gift she had bought him called Bull's Blood which is an Egri Bikaver wine. We share some quality time doing online shopping for even more wine because we noticed our 18 bottle wine rack is 1/2 empty.
Two bottles of wine later (I drank them not her), we go to bed. She tries to go to sleep. It was a rough weekend and her back hurt. She isn't always suffering on Mondays but sometimes she is worn out, like today. Does the horny hippo care . . . nope. Minor injuries do not affect the primal perspectives . . . and after 10 days, I wasn't just primal . . . I am a bit beyond that. I was a sadistic attention hungry human cock looking to slake my lust. It's been a over a week of contagious sexual solitude and I don't want foreplay, seductions or anything romantic, I want physical attention and sexual service. I don't care if your back hurts . . . hell, I don't care if you have broken legs and a broken jaw, I am gonna' find a way to get some. So I roll the bitch over, pry her legs apart and soon she starts whimpering about her back . . . do I care? Nope. Complain some more bitch, I like it when they cry. The caretaker in me, the one that would normally get a back massager and warm her up, seducing her first . . . well, his inner thoughts are faint echos compared to the growling hungry primal beast in my my pants. I am not only hungry, I am feeling a bit sadistic and she is lucky I don't just snap her neck to shut her up and fuck her warm twitching corpse while the flesh is still warm!!! Yuppers, hungry hippo is in full bloom.
She eventually asked permission to pee, whimpering all the way into the bathroom. I could her her whimpers echo as she got far away. So . . . being the kind hearted soul I am, I followed her in to torture her some more because she really doesn't like company in toilet. When I heard her start to pee, I came over and hugged her while she sat there. She whimpered some more. It really sounding like she was complaining to me . . . so I pried her legs open and pissed on her belly so it leaked into the toilet. Oh boy, she started sobbing, crying out loud even and muttering that now she needed a shower. LMAO . . . I tossed her a wet washrag and told her to wipe herself. She got up and obeyed but kept muttering that now she needed a shower. She's lucky I let her wipe with a rag instead of making her roll in newspapers to dry off like a dog. It was like she held the effort of taking a shower as her blame on me for the abuse . . . the extra work she would suffer cleaning up after being abused. . . . I called her a brat. I told her that her inner brat was a very rare occurrence and it was really nice to see her like this. She started sobbing even harder. I asked if she could reach deep inside and actually stamp her feet like a brat while crying? I told her to plead with me that she needed to shower to clean up . . . and she managed to let her childlike brat come out, stamped her feet and whined that she needed a shower, crying . . . and then laughing at the same time. She is truly priceless, I cherish owning her.
It is my ability to forge ahead while she cries that allows us to explore passionate and edgy places that would halt most people in their tracks. Normally her tears are accompanied with erotic sadomasochistic passion and orgasms, but this whole scene was not one of those passionate times. It truly was a hippo and a girl in distress. I liked her genuine distress while I fucked her and then pissed on her instead of her normal reaction of feeling owned and loved. She truly felt abused and pissed off, which is very rare. I am OK with that... I own her. I can wash her off, fix the damage and set her right later. I let her take a shower after I made her stamp her feet and beg for it.
She was crying in the shower so I entered, took her hand and lovingly, romantically, put my cock in it. I took hold of her pussy, lifted her chin and looked her the eye telling her never to let anything come between our bond and we will always remain connected. I told her she was a good girl and we hugged. She is curled up in bed sleeping now. Despite the fact I am the only man that has ever left her feeling raped and/or abused, she fell asleep holding my hand. She sacrificed an hour of her life to the cause of maintaining our bond on my terms, genuinely getting pissed and feeling abused to feed the hippo's desires. Me . . . well, it's good to be king and she goes the distance for me when called to do so as I go the distance for when needed. Sometimes the caretaker in me and the desire's of a Master for his property come in conflict, like this morning . . . but I'm OK with that too.
She didn't get off, have an orgasm, feel loved, warm and fuzzy or adored during our encounter. In fact, while I was hovered over her ass in bed, I told her she was physically so attractive to me, that if I knew fucking her would cripple her, it would cause me pause while I weighed the options carefully. So she was objectified, stretched to her limits emotionally and physically, experiencing genuine stress and discomfort . . . her sacrifice only rewarded with accolades and reassurance of our bond. Hippo passion is a strange and beautiful thing in my eyes.
So yes, I think I get what you mean by the whole ball of batshit crazy wax the size of a hippo. In reference to the OP, we were together almost a year before I made her feel "raped" or "abused" (like today) the first time. It was a first for her, she had never felt that way ever before. I think if I had done that on the first or second date, she might not have made it.
[edit: fixed type-Os]
< Message edited by ResidentSadist -- 2/9/2015 1:10:02 PM >
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