But you didn’t have to cut me off, make out like it never happened and that we were nothing…

“What the fuck?” That was Bob’s verbal reaction to the prostrated young woman at his feet. His second thought was to avert his eyes. His first thought was How many times have I fantasized about this exact moment?

Eyes to the floor, KJ spoke in a whisper. “I had this whole speech planned out. I was going to tell you that I’ve spent my whole life being a complete bitch and a selfish worthless whore. I was going to just beg you for forgiveness for every last bit of pain that I’ve caused you. Then today happened, and I remembered every bit about how you used to make me feel, how good you were to me and how horrible I was to you, and that made me realize something.”

He waited in silence for her to finish, drinking in her words as his brain tried to process what she was saying and figure out what angle she was playing at.

“I don’t deserve forgiveness. I used you and I hurt you. I left a scar so deep that even thirty years hasn’t really healed it. And yet, you can still smile and laugh, you can still care for the people around you. You’re a better man than Tony ever was and I was too stupid to see that when we were younger. For whatever reason this whole situation was engineered to give us all second chances, but I don’t deserve even that. So while I can’t ever hope for forgiveness, I can take this chance and try to start making it up to you.” She finally raised her eyes from the carpet and tears were visible in them, glinting in the slightly yellowed lighting of the room. “Take all your anger, all your hurt, all the pain you’ve experienced because of what I did to you and take it out on me. Use me for whatever humiliating degrading twisted **** fantasy you might have. When you have your fill of me, cast me aside and go to someone you care for. When you’ve taken all that rage out on me you can decide on whether I’ve earned any forgiveness, and when you decide that I have I can maybe start forgiving myself.”

Maybe it was something about her tears. Maybe it was the fact that this was the most insightful she’d ever been to his knowledge. Or maybe it was her tight athletic body, kneeling on the floor in a position of submission. Whatever it was, his cock was about as hard as it had ever been.

She was right. He couldn’t forgive her. He could still feel that sting from decades ago, like a knife that someone was twisting every so often. There had been years at times when he didn’t think about the pain then something would remind him and he’d hit a downward spiral all over again. And here she was, kneeling in front of him, offering to make it up in any way she could. The right thing to do would be to stick to his original plan; go to bed, and brush her off. Of course Bob had spent his entire life making poor decisions, so why change now?

“Alright.” He stepped toward her, standing in front of her, and reached down to grab a handful of her dirty blonde curls. Without another word, he turned and walked to the bedroom, forcing her to crawl to keep up.

Bob had become used to the bedroom’s constantly changing decor, but tonight’s spread took the cake. To start, the carpeting had either been removed entirely or covered over with a rubbery black spongy material, as had the walls and ceiling. The bed, still the main feature of the room, was now in the center, but was also now round and draped in red satin sheets. Visible at various points around its circumference were leather restraint cuffs. To the right of the door a large rack hung, displaying various floggers, whips, tawsers, slappers, paddles, and various other devices designed solely for the infliction of pain.

Continuing around the room, the right wall had an open cabinet prominently offering a rather broad selection of bondage gear, followed by a padded St. Andrew’s cross which seemed to be mounted to the wall on a central spoke.

The far wall still had the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony and the steaming hot tub as its primary feature, but next to it was a rather old fashioned looking Eaton bench. The left wall still bore the large television as its only feature, and the screen was playing hardcore Bondage pornography with the volume muted. Finally immediately to the left of the door on the wall was a series of coat pegs from which hung a ring gag, a blindfold, and a leather posture collar with attached earplugs. The entire room was lit by dim reddish track lighting which shown off the black material giving everything a slightly eerie glow. Bob was so shocked by the transformation that he let go of Kathy Jo’s hair, causing her to fall at his feet prostrate.

For her part, Bob’s sudden switch from the jovial, good natured gentleman he’d been all day to a dominant brute sparked something in her, the ventral tegmental area of her brain dumping dopamine into the nucleus accumbens, and starting a chemical chain reaction in that brain as her past experiences from her **** use to her abusive relationship with Tony which had worn quite solid canalization through the neural pathways of her reward system all sparked to life, triggering her hippocampus’ retention of associated cues to fire off sending a tingle from her amygdala straight to her pussy. All of this happened in less than a second and required no conscious activity on her part. The physical result of this was that she was almost instantly soaked, and when he let go of her hair she immediately clung to his leg rubbing her cheek against it.

Bob had played with BDSM before. It was something of a solid kink for him, truth be told, and with his erection already straining against the lounging pants that he’d donned following his shower, he was damn sure going to follow through on this golden opportunity to finally get a little bit of catharsis.

It took some work but in a matter of minutes the utterly compliant Kathy Jo was wearing the full compliment of collar blindfold and gag, and cuffed spread eagle to the bed on her stomach. Not having spoken a word, he assayed the ‘toy’ cabinet and selected a thin rattan cane. A couple swings revealed that the narrow rod had about the balance of a good fencing rapier and made a very satisfying sound as it cut through the air. Further inspection of the cabinets revealed a selection of vibes and plugs as wells as more esoteric materials such as catheters and enema equipment, but he settled on a sizable wand style vibrator and some Velcro straps. He set the vibe to work on the prone girl’s clit, strapping it to her leg to hold it in position. Her only response was to moan softly through the ring gag.

The first strike of the cane landed lightly on the sole of her left foot. She made a noise that wasn’t quite pain, but by this point Bob was deaf to it. The thin wood cut the air again, landing with similar **** on her right sole. He alternated left to right, steadily increasing ****, and careful to only hit the same spot occasionally, and to keep his strike zone on the arches of her feet. By the time his sixth stroke landed KJ was keening through the ring gag with each successive lash.

Deprived of sight and sound, bound to the bed in such a way that movement was impossible, and having he clit continuously stimulated, all that KJ could do was experience the pain that was being delivered to her feet. Bastinado is traditionally used as punishment for a number of reasons, but chief among them are that it both does not leave lasting damage and that the nerve endings on the sole of the foot are unable to adapt to repeated impacts and the pain receptors in fact amplify it. Within only a handful of even relatively gentle strokes the sensation grows from merely unpleasant to agonizing burning throbbing pain, aggravated further by apprehension and anticipation of the next strike. The conflicting sensations of **** pain in her feet and constant stimuli to her erogenous zones caused her mind to withdraw into itself out of necessity to keep what remained of her sanity.

By the time the beating ceased, time had lost all meaning to her. How long had she been there? A part of her believed that this, the pain/pleasure was all there was, that there had never been a time before, that her entire existence had been but a dream and she had only now awoken to the reality of her duality of sensation.

She flinched when she felt something touch her right foot, but it was not another slash from the cane; instead a hand gently caressed the sole of her foot.

She came.

Bound as she was she was unable to curl into a ball afterwards as her body desired to. Her twitching had only just subsided when her only remaining sense aside from touch picked up a very distinct smell in front of her face. She knew this smell. Man. Cock. Clean. Aroused. Drool was pooling around her face on the sheets as she felt rough hands remove the gag from her mouth, a mouth which knew what to do in response to that smell. She kept it open and extended her pink tongue to lick at the air. When it encountered firm but yielding flesh she felt a thrill run through her body and she automatically licked again. Salt sweat and pre-cum danced on her tastebuds as the male member began to press forward, and she opened her mouth as wide as she could to accommodate it. Head and neck locked as they were in position, she could only take the girthy tip into her mouth, but the sensation of being used like this made her moan around it, the pleasure only intensifying as fingers entangled in her hair holding her in place for The Cock to fuck her mouthpussy.

Bob was on autopilot now. Slow measured thrusts worked his cock between Kathy Jo’s lips, hard as he’d been in forty years, her hot tight mouth felt heavenly, yet he somehow knew that he was in control of his orgasm. When he extracted himself, she whined like a puppy deprived of its toy, but that whine turned to a moan of pleasure as she felt him climb onto the bed between her spread legs.

She came as he entered her, but he fucked her through the orgasm. This is what she was good for. She was holes to be fucked. A contentment settled over her as Bob took his pleasure from her, his rebar hard erection slamming into her with all the **** it could given her position.

Her cunt contracted and spasmed around his tumescent rod as she hit her fourth orgasm, and he finally let loose, spending his load inside her and collapsing by her side. He pulled out one of her earplugs and whispered to her as he began to uncuff her from the bed. “You can start forgiving yourself.”

Free of her restraints she curled into him and pressed her face against his chest. He held her as she cried. It was a long time before either of them got to sleep.

(Title:”Somebody That I Used To Know” by Gotye)