textfiles/sex/EROTICA/T/theruler.txt

                    THE RULER

                  by V.P. Viddler



     Back and forth it swung. Back and forth.

     And Amy's eyes followed it.

     Back and forth.

     She couldn't stop staring at it.

     "No," she said.

     But her breasts rose and fell with her accelerated 
breathing. The breasts were round and enticing under the tight 
woolen dress, a dark blue conservative garment that could not 
hide her curvy, sensual body. Her delicious-looking legs were 
bare, and as the dress clung around her knees the shapeliness of 
her calves made my heart beat harder.

     But it had been going strong ever since we'd gotten to her 
apartment, and Alan had introduced us. "Amy," Alan had said, 
"this is Bill. I've told him a lot about you."

     Which was true.

     I said, "How do you do?" but Amy said nothing. Not to me. 
She just turned to Alan, and in a flat, despairing voice she 
said, "You bastard. Oh, you dirty rotten bastard."

     "Now, Amy darling," Alan said. "You know you don't mean 
that."

     "I won't," Amy said. "I won't."

     "No?" Alan said. 

     "No. Damn you. No. You just want to show off. Humiliate me. 
In front of a stranger."

     "That's right," Alan said. "That's just what I want to do."

     "I won't," Amy said. "Damn you. You can't just--not like--I 
won't degrade myself for your amusement. I won't!"

     "Okay," Alan said. "Fine. Nobody's forcing you to do 
anything, Amy. You know that."

     "Get out," Amy said. "Just go away."

     "Not yet," Alan said.

     "Alan--" And it sounded as though she was holding on in 
desperation to her self-control.

     "We'll just sit down awhile," Alan said. "And then we'll 
go--if you want us to."

     "I won't," Amy said.

     "Okay," Alan said. "Sit down, Bill." Alan sat on a sofa and 
I sat in a chair.

     Amy went across the room and sat facing us in another chair. 
"You might as well leave now, Alan," Amy said. "And don't come 
back."

     "Right," Alan said.

     And then he took it out.

     It was a thin, stiff wooden ruler, about a foot and a half 
in length. Alan took it out and held it.

     "No," Amy said.

     Alan held the ruler loosely in his hand and let it dangle 
from his fingers. And then he began to swing it back and forth. 
Slowly.

     Back and forth.

     Slowly.

     "Don't," Amy said.

     Back and forth.

     Amy looked away. At the wall. At the ceiling.

     "It won't work, Alan," she said. "I don't want this. I 
don't. I won't."

     "Okay," Alan said.

     Back and forth it swung.

     Back and forth.

     Amy's eyes flickered.

     Closed.

     Opened.

     "No," she said.

     She was looking at it now. Watching it.

     Watching.

     Back and forth.

     Her eyes moving with it. Staring at it. In fascination.

     And she swallowed.

     And her breasts betrayed her rapid breathing.

     And she said, "Please."

     And couldn't stop watching as it still swung.

     Back and forth.

     And then I could hear her breathing. Louder. Almost panting.

     And I got hard, knowing Alan had been right.

     Hard as a rock.

     And Amy moaned.

     "Damn you!" she said. "No. Not like this. Not--in front of 
him. Please. God, please."

     Back and forth and back and forth.

     Amy made a sound like a sob. And then, slowly, so slowly, 
she got up. Got up out of the chair and stood, unsteadily. And 
made a tiny whimpering sound.

     And Alan still swung the ruler.

     Back and forth.

     "Oh," Amy gasped then. "Oh. Oh, I--"

     Alan said nothing. He was watching her and smiling a tiny 
smile.

     Back and forth.

     Amy took a step toward him, her eyes fastened hypnotically 
on the moving piece of wood. "I--" Amy gasped. "I--I can't--" She 
took another step. And another.

     Alan shot me a quick look. A look of triumph.

     Amy saw it. She went red, then white. And stood unmoving for 
a moment. But then she moved again. She was whimpering in her 
throat, and a big tear now slid down her cheek.

     "All right," Amy said gaspingly. "Oh god--" She was almost 
to Alan as he sat on that sofa, watching her approach, letting 
that ruler sway back and forth, back and forth. Amy stood 
watching it, swaying a bit herself. "I--" Amy said. "I--oh god, 
I--"

     Alan waited.

     I waited.

     Amy could hardly catch her breath.

     And then Amy closed her eyes and said, "I want it."

     "What?" Alan said. "What was that, Amy?"

     Amy moaned. "I want it, Alan. Oh. I want it. I want it. 
You--oh. Damn you. I want it."

     "What, Amy?" Alan said. "What do you want?"

     "Oh god," Amy said. "Do it. Do it to me. Damn you. Do it!"

     "Do what, Amy?" Alan said. "Tell me--and tell Bill--just 
what you want me to do."

     "You know," Amy said.

     "But I want you to say it, Amy," Alan said. "Bill wants to 
hear you say it, too. Don't you, Bill?"

     "Yes," I said.

     "Look at us, Amy," Alan said. "Open your eyes. That's it. 
Now. What is it that you want me to do to you?"

     Amy was trembling. "Alan--"

     "What?"

     "Please, oh god--"

     "What, Amy?"

     Amy hugged her body with her arms and bowed her head.

     "Hit me," she said in a low, shaking voice.

     "I can't hear you, Amy," Alan said. "Talk louder. What did 
you say?"

     "Hit me," Amy moaned. "I want it, Alan. Do it. Hit me."

     "You want me to hit you?" Alan said.

     "Oh god," Amy said. "Oh please."

     "Ask me nicely," Alan said.

     "Alan, please. Please."

     "Beg for it," Alan said.

     Amy moaned.

     "Beg me to do it to you, Amy."

     "Please," Amy said chokingly. "I beg you. You bastard. You 
win, Alan. I want it, I need it, I'm begging you, I'm--"

     "On your knees," Alan said. "Go down on your knees and ask 
me again. Without any name calling."

     "I--"

     "Right now," Alan said as Amy hesitated. "Or I'll go."

     And Amy took a long shaking breath and slowly sank down, 
slowly down, down to her knees. And she knelt on the floor in 
front of Alan, her head lowered, and Amy said, "Please. I beg 
you, please do it, Alan, hit me, oh please, oh god please--"

     And Alan said, "I told Bill I'd have you like this."

     And Amy sobbed.

     "I told you, Bill," Alan said. "Didn't I?"

     "You did," I said.

     "Alan--" Amy said.

     "Look at her," Alan said. "Don't you love it?"

     "God, yes," I said.

     "Amy," Alan said. "You're a sick bitch."

     Amy moaned.

     And Alan said, "Tell us what a sick bitch you are."

     "Alan--"

     "Amy," Alan said. "Do you want me to hit you?"

     Back and forth, back and forth.

     "Yes," Amy gasped.

     "Then tell us," Alan said.

     And Amy said in a small voice, "I'm a sick bitch."

     "Again," Alan said.

     "I'm a sick bitch," Amy said.

     "And you're a dirty cunt, Amy," Alan said. "Right?"

     "Yes," Amy said.

     "Say it."

     "I'm a--I'm a dirty cunt."

     "And a cock-sucking slut," Alan said.

     "And--a--cock-sucking slut," Amy whispered.

     "You'll say anything," Alan said. "Now what will you do, 
Amy? What will you do to get me to hit you. Hit you hard. What, 
Amy?"

     Amy was in agony. An agony of need, and also an agony of 
shame and humiliation. It took her a moment to say it, but she 
did.

     "Anything," Amy said. "I'll do anything."

     "Anything?" Alan said.

     "Alan please--"

     "Amy?"

     "Yes," Amy sobbed. "Yes! Anything. I'll do anything you say, 
anything you want. Please do it now, Alan. Please. I want it so 
much, I can't stand it. I'll do what you want, you know I will. 
You can do anything you want to me."

     "That's good, Amy," Alan said. "Can Bill do anything he 
wants to you too?"

     "God," Amy said. "You--yes. Yes, Alan. Please."

     "Tell him," Alan said.

     And Amy turned that agonized so pretty face to me and said, 
"You too. You can do what you want to me. I'll do anything you 
say. Yes. Oh god yes--" Sobbing and gasping, hating what she was 
doing, loving what Alan would do to her.

     "Maybe you should do it now, Amy," Alan said.

     "No!" Amy cried. "Alan, I can't wait, please Alan, please, 
I'll be good for you, I'll be so good--"

     "Poor Amy," Alan said mockingly. "But she's probably right, 
it will be better afterward. You'll be truly enthusiastic when 
you're in pain. Won't you, Amy darling?"

     "Oh god--"

     "All right, Amy," Alan said. "I'm going to hurt you now."

     "Yes! Oh--"

     "Lie down, Amy," Alan said. "On the floor. Right down on the 
floor on your stomach. Go on."

     And Amy, gasping, sobbing, did as Alan said, lay down on the 
floor on her front, flat out. And her round softly jutting ass 
was squirming just very slightly, as though in anticipation. I 
could hear her panting.

     And Alan said, "Pull up your dress, Amy. So I can hurt you 
properly."

     And Amy, moaning, brought her hands to her skirt, one on 
each side, and pulled it up. Up over her legs. Up over her 
thighs. Fantastic thighs. And lay there with her legs bared, 
those long, fabulously shapely, curvaceous, mouth-watering sexy 
sensuous legs. Bare.

     "All the way," Alan said.

     And Amy pulled that skirt up past her hips to her waist. 
Showing black panties.

     "Pants off," Alan said.

     And Amy slid her panties down. Slid them down over her ass 
and down her thighs and down her calves and off. And lay flat 
again, dress around her waist, naked from the waist down. 
Shaking. Moaning. Waiting.

     "Arms out," Alan said, and Amy spread her arms up and out, 
lying like a sacrificial offering, prostrate on the rug.

     And Alan said, "Now."

     And Amy caught her breath.

     And Alan raised the wooden ruler, holding it high.

     And Amy hissed in fear and anticipation.

     And Alan brought his arm down with such force and swiftness 
that I saw just a blur, and then the wood struck against Amy's 
curving flesh with a sharp, loud, sickening CRACK!

     And Amy screamed.

     And Alan did it again.

     And Amy screamed again.

     CRACK! Again.

     Howl from Amy.

     WHAP!

     Awful cry from that straining throat.

     Again and again.

     On and on.

     And Amy still lay there. Spread out. Naked below the waist. 
Squirming, writhing, twisting sharply with each blow. But staying 
as she was.

     WHACK!

     "AAAAIIIEEE!"

     Alan was panting. "Shall I stop, Amy?" Alan said.

     "NO! NO! Please, no, more. Please don't stop, dont--
AUUGGGHH! AAOOOWW!"

     On and on.

     Alan struck her ass and also her thighs. All down those 
wonderful outrageously glorious thighs. Marks on Amy's ass and 
down her thighs.

     And Alan stopped.

     "No!" Amy pleaded. "More, god, it hurts so much, I want--"

     "Amy," Alan said. "Suck Bill off."

     I couldn't say anything.

     "Alan--" Amy said.

     "Now, Amy," Alan said.

     "I don't want to," Amy said.

     "I'll stop," Alan said.

     "No!" Amy said.

     "Go to Bill and suck him off," Alan said.

     And Amy slowly, painfully, got up on all fours. And slowly, 
painfully, crying now, Amy crawled on hands and knees to my 
chair. And stopped in front of me. And, on her knees, opened my 
fly. And took out my cock.

     "Alan," Amy said.

     "All fours," Alan said. "Do it right, Amy, and I'll go on 
hitting you as you do it. But only if you do it right. I want 
Bill to enjoy this. That's why I brought him."

     And Amy got on all fours, and then she lowered her head and 
took my cock into her mouth. That mouth was warm and soft and 
moist. And Amy took me in all the way. Quivering lips around my 
flesh. Licking tongue. Clutching throat.

     And Alan hit her on the ass, hard. Amy howled around me 
cock, and I almost came. And then Amy began to suck. Sucking. 
Yelling. Alan hitting her. Amy's head bobbing, long dark soft 
hair touching my crotch, body jerking at each blow, mouth, lips, 
tongue.

     I couldn't hold back. I came, spurting hard into Amy's 
screaming throat. And Alan said, "Swallow, Amy. Swallow it all." 
And Amy did, gulping, swallowing, choking, and then Alan hit her 
hard and fast, and Amy collapsed back onto the floor on her back, 
body spasming wildly, coming. She flung her legs widely apart, 
humping her body.

     "Alan!" Amy cried. "Take me! Now!"

     "Open your dress," Alan said.

     "No! Not that! I want you, Alan, please, do it to me, right 
now, please--"

     "Open your dress, Amy."

     "Oh god, oh god, oh Jesus," Amy gasped. But she reached for 
her collar and did something to a button and then Amy pulled that 
dress apart, baring her breasts to us. No bra. Just Amy. Full, 
round, firm, quivering breasts with hard, stiff pink nipples. And 
Alan raised his hand, and Amy said, "No! No!" and made a halfway 
motion as if to cover herself with her hands, and Alan said, 
"Bill. Hold her hands." And Amy said, "Oh dear god oh my god oh 
Jesus I can't Alan wait I don't think oh Christ--" And I took 
hold of Amy's hands and stretched her arms up over her head and 
pinned her hands down by the wrists. And Alan said, "Now, Amy." 
And he cracked the thing across her breast. And Amy was shrieking 
and writhing and trying to pull away and I held her wrists down 
and Alan sat on her legs and he hit the ruler across her other 
breast and Amy was going crazy with pain.

     "You want it, Amy?" Alan said.

     WHAP!

     "Yeeeaaahhh!"

     And now Alan lay down on top of her and tore his pants open 
and took her, hard, brutally, lying between Amy's kicking, 
flailing legs, pounding at her body, and still hitting her 
breasts and now her thighs and all over that twisting body, and 
Amy was yelling and howling and crying, and I was hard again and 
I crawled up over her head, pinning her wrists with my knees, and 
put my crotch above her face, and jammed my cock into her mouth. 
And Amy, howling around my cock, took my gism down her throat 
again, and Alan shot inside her jouncing pussy.

     Alan and I had Amy all night long. Hurting Amy. Fucking Amy. 
Amy was ours. All ours. Any day...