Cunt Punching

I haven’t punched a cunt in a while.

I knee curvy_bottom in hers from time to time. That feels intimate: I’m kneeling over her, face to face, and either have just come out of her or am about to go in.

I can see her anticipation as I place a knee between her legs and draw it back. I can see her grimace as I make contact. Sometimes her eyes water. Her legs relax and I either go about my business or we fall into a cuddle.

Cunt punching. That’s different. It is much harder for a start. Harder as in stronger and more violent. Harder as in summoning up the blood to do it. It feels like an act of violence and, as such, not something I’d inflict on curvy_bottom.

It’s scary for the victim and scary for the D: I can’t convince myself there is anything in this other than a need to hurt and a need to see subjugation more than submission. That feels wrong. But it’s also honest and true. I want her frightened of me, just in that moment.

So, we’ve been talking about wanking through pain. The victim is about to wank for me. And I say, “I’d like to punch your cunt: do you consent?”.

Her eye’s widen. She looks better than just scared. I smile inside and do my best to stop a wide grin. I fail.

She thinks. She says “It’s not a hard limit we’ve agreed, so I suppose I should”.

I tell he to open her legs. I show the straight arm downward punch I am going to use. Her breath becomes shallow.

I place my fist on her cunt and draw it back. I don’t wait, but plunge my arm straight down. She shuts her eyes, closes her legs, raises her knees and, as I make contact, arches her back.

I hit her mons – not her cunt. My punch loses force because the contact area is inches behind where I expect it to be. She still gasps at the impact.

“Still” I say “How can I hit you properly if you move”. curvy_bottom moves alongside her and the victim grabs her leg. I can see my partner wants to offer the victim more comfort but I stop her. The victim opens her legs wide and straight and I punch again, before she has another moment to think.

This time the target stays still. My fist slams into its soft wetness with an immensely satisfying thwop. She screams but it’s the sound of hard flesh on soft flesh that burns itself into my brain. I feel slight suction as I remove it and I see the victim breathe again.

As I wipe my hand on her thigh I feel an immense sense of pride. She made herself my victim. She welcomed my punch.

She makes ready to wank. I put my hand on hers: “You now know what it’s like. Is this something you consent that I can do to you as I wish?”

She nods. She can see that’s not enough. “Yes”, she says.