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My cunt was running like a tap that had been left on in the sink. Even with his legs pressed to my face I could tell the air was thick with the smell of sweat and pussy. "PLEASE STOP, ROBERT! PLEASE! GOD IT HURTS! PLEASE!" I begged and sobbed all the while thinking how turned on I was and how much I wanted his cock inside my throbbing hole. Then the panties fell out. I guess it was my struggle on the bed that finally moved the bedding enough but a woman's floral patterned panties fell from the bed to the floor right beneath my face. I was stunned. I stopped squirming. The beating ended. When he released my head and backed up he saw the panties. I was staring at them, all the while aware of my pain, my awkward, open-legged position on the bed, my throbbing need to be fucked. I was confused, hurt, hurting, needing. He picked them up and squatted down next to my face. I watched him handled the woman's intimates. "From last night," he said. He held the crotch panel to his nose, sniffed, smiled. "She was a pretty good fuck." I was already crying from the beating. I added tears for this. He pressed the panties to my face. I could smell her scent, the light perfume, and the heavy earthiness of her pussy. "I brought her home and fucked the shit out of her," he said. "In fact, she was just leaving when I called you." The son of a bitch, I thought. I felt humiliated, betrayed. It made me hornier, if that were possible. I wanted it so badly now. I tried to rub my pussy on the bedspread but I couldn't get any friction. He fit the panties over my head with my nose in the crotch panel. I looked ridiculous, I knew. He went around behind me, forced my thighs wider apart and rammed his cock in me with a viscous thrust. It felt so fucking good! My cunt pulsed, grabbing his hard dick with vice-like force and orgasmic waves ripped through me with such intensity I think I lost consciousness. I awoke screaming with searing pain and incredible pleasure. I wanted it to go on and on forever. He rode me like an animal, his hard body slamming against my abused back side, his cock pounding into me like a an out of control machine, speeding faster and faster. The force of his thrusts drove his dick into my tender cervix bruising and battering, hurting, thrilling. Eventually he pulled his cock from my steaming cunt and pushed just the tip into my puckered asshole and injected me with his hot sperm. I collapsed, completely exhausted. The belt and that woman's panties changed our relationship that day. The belt became a regular part of our sex life. The spankings no longer took me to the plateau I wanted. I started to plead with him to beat me with his belt and fuck me all the while feeling betrayed and estranged from him after learning of his relationship with the other woman. I realized it meant not another woman but other women. I grew emotionally distant from him. We settled into a pattern of seeing each other only occasionally for sexual reasons. But we became closer again when he started taking me out to watch him commit rape. After we left Nicki, the oriental girl, bleeding into her white Capris we went to Robert's place. While Tara ordered a pizza using the phone in the kitchen Robert made me undress in the living room. "Do you want the belt?" "You know I do." "You're a whore, Molly," he smiled, "a worthless little piece of shit." "Please send her home." He didn't say anything as I kicked my jeans into a corner and hooked my thumbs in my panties. When I was naked he told me to get my collar. He'd begun making me wear a black dog collar when I was over. I hated the thing but I went and buckled it around my throat. When I returned he and Tara were standing in the living room kissing. I hated her. Robert had me stand on the coffee table with my fingers laced together behind my head. He and Tara used bright red lipstick to write on my skin. Tara painted my lips big and clown like and wrote "COCKSUCKER" across my face.

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