“No,” John said.
Roger pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t need a lot to live on. And once I start pimping out your wife — correction, your EX-wife — as a pain slut, the money will start rolling in — more money than I’ll ever need. Why don’t we do this. You sign the divorce papers,” John slid them across the table, “and when she — that is, I — get the money, I will purchase her from you for half-a-million dollars. You walk away with two million, I have one.”
Roger stared at John, stunned.
“That’s un-enforcable. You can’t sell a person.”
“That’s right,” John said. He held out his hand. “A gentleman’s agreement.”
Roger stared at John’s hand, then turned his head to look at his wife. He couldn’t see her face, she was a pair or spread legs and an open cunt, a bright silver ring hanging down between her legs and tattoos running up and down the insides of her thighs.
As much as he hated John, he knew this was the best offer he was likely to get.
John watched Roger, knew what he was thinking. Things were going his way but he wanted to push him over the edge.
“Roger? There’s one more possibility,” John said.
Roger asked, “what’s that?”
John took an envelope out of his other pocket and slid it across the table.
“She is going to make me a lot of money. You could get in on the ground floor. A 20 percent split if you help me pimp her out.”
Belle heard that and her legs went weak. She collapsed on the floor and pulled her knees up to her chest, curled up in a ball and sobbed. Roger would never take his offer, never, never, never.
“Let me think about it,” he said.
“Do you want to fuck her?” John asked casually.
Roger was silent for a few minutes, then Belle heard him ask. “Tell me about this thing with the belts.”
“Please, please, may I cum? Please! Please!” Belle was blubbering, face pressed into her arm
“Are you finished?” John asked.
“Fuck no!” Roger said. He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt and raised the whip again. He
swung it hard and it wrapped around her belly, raising another thick red mark. She screamed and swung her legs in the air. Her arms were on fire, her wrists were tied above her head and her feet were a full two feet off the ground. Roger had beat her with a two inch-thick belt for fifteen minutes then switched to a whip at John’s goading.
“She really needs to understand how angry you are,” John urged, egging him on.
“Angry?” Roger screamed, swinging the whip harder. It bit across the fronts of her thighs, raising small dots of blood. “Fucking angry?” He swung again and hit just below the same spot. A drop of red flicked onto her foot.
Roger set the whip down on the table and picked up a smaller, slit leather monstrosity called a quirt. He looked at John who nodded.
“It’s a motherfucker of pain. I’m not sure you want to try…”
Roger ignored him and swung around, swatting Belle across the tits. He sliced across the top, the leather raising big red stripes. After six swats, Roger stopped and stepped closer to his soon-to-be-ex wife.
“And these?” he sneered, running the tips of two fingers over her nipple piercings. “I don’t think these were in the last time you came over to fuck me.”
Belle tried to think but her body was all she could think — she needed to cum, she needed him to hit her again and again until she came. She pushed her crotch forward and opened her legs, trying to rub again him. Roger laughed. “Look at this fucking pig!” He motioned to John who just grinned.
“Seen it.”
Roger turned back to his wife. Each of her titties was pierced twice, two two-inch long vertical stainless steel barbells, one on each side of her nipple. Roger slid his fingers between the titflesh and the piercings and started pulling forward.
Belle moaned, the pain shooting waves of desire through her. John watched carefully. She’d been conditioned to enjoy the pain of clamps and weights but he hadn’t expected her to respond to the pain of rough pulling so thoroughly.
“Rubber bands,” John said.
Roger turned. “What?”
John stood up. He reached in his pocket and produced two long rubber bands. He wound them around the barbell ends so they made a box around her nipple, then pulled and twisted again forming an X across the center.
“Go ahead,” John said.
Belle felt her head swimming. She needed to cum and she knew this would do it. If the pain was enough, she could cum. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, breathing softly
Roger pulled timidly on the rubber bands and snapped them. His wife moaned but didn’t cry out. Her body needed more, she wanted to tell him but was afraid John would disapprove.
“I don’t know,” Roger said, turning to John and shrugging.
John pointed at Belle and said, “don’t be afraid. You can’t break her. I know. I’ve tried.”
Roger tugged at the rubber bands that X’d both of her nipples. He pulled them back, watching his wife’s body sway from the rope overhead. He swung her back and forth a few times, amused and intrigued. The next time her body swung backward the rubber bands stretched to five inches, then six. He let go of both of them at the same time and she screamed.
“Again! Again! Again!” she screamed, thighs shaking and eyes open wide, now staring at him, demanding. “Harder! Harder!” Roger reached for the rubber bands but grabbed a handful of nipple instead.
“uggggg” Belle moaned, the rush of pain giving her a small climax. Roger clamped down again on her nipples hard and pulled her forward two feet, then let go. She swung freely from the ceiling, legs limp, feet dangling. He crouched to the floor and picked up the belt again. When she swung closer, he stepped to the side and swung it across her belly, her body shaking, the pain turning her on.
When she started swinging slower, he grabbed her nipples again and pulled her further back, this time, when he let go, he kept the rubber bands between his fingers until she swung backward and he couldn’t hold them any more.
“AAAAAHHHRRR!” she screamed as the rubber bands bit into her nipple meat.
John looked at his watch. “If you’re about done, we have work to do,” he said.
“Fuck you, asshole, this is my wife.”
Roger turned back to her, watched her swing, then picked up the short whip again.
“THIS…” he swung it across her ass while she swung “…IS…” he hit her across the calves, “…MY…” again “…WIFE…” this time, he raised his arm higher and cut across her lower back “…AND I…” the next one sliced across her belly and opened a small cut “…WILL DO…” he pushed her again to keep her swinging “…THIS…” the whip cut across her thighs, opening another cut “…AS LONG…” this one was across the nipple piercings and she screamed and twisted then screamed again, louder, as her left shoulder dislocated with a POP! “…AS I…” another cut opened across her belly, making an X with the first “…PLEASE…” the whip cut across her left shin but she wasn’t responding now, she just hung limp, her head lolling forward on her chest.
“Roger,” John said, his hand touching Roger’s shoulder lightly. “I think you’re done for now.”