“You have to pay the toll.”
I happily bopped up the stairs and hugged my friend, TwistedView, who was in town to teach a rope class and enjoy in the merriment that was Dirty Things. He stood a step above me, so my face mussed into his tummy as well pulled each other in tight.
Randomly, TwistedView started thumping on my back. I moaned from the massage, letting my body fall fully into his fists Once finished, I looked up, floaty-headed, and thanked him for the wonderful greeting.
Later that night, as I sat in a corner chatting with friends, fully clothed, relaxing into the party atmosphere, TwistedView came over and knelt down before me.
http://annedickson.co.uk/wp-login.php?action=lostpassword “So you like hard thuddy pain?”
I happily told him how I loved being punched. Talking with my hands, I went over the various places I was often hit: my chest, the sides of my arms, my shoulders, my back, my thighs all around, and of course my ass. People love my ass for obvious reasons. As I spoke, TwistedView sat on my shins.
A dubstep song was playing in the background as TwistedView started punching my thighs. He began slowly, easing into harder hits.
“Why hit someone in the back when you can see their reactions from the front.”
I gasped with each punch, my breathing progressing from light puffs to moans to yelps as the force of his blows increased.
He switched to my chest, rattling my ribs as he punched from my nipples to my clavicle. I brought my body up into his blows, not allowing myself to lean back, taking the impact. It felt like my body was creating a wave as it found a rhythm with TwistedView’s hits.
He switched back to my thighs. He punched harder still, jamming his fist into my flesh to accentuate his blows. Running his knuckles over my muscles, the pain sunk in deep.
Punching my chest once more, his hits increased still further, forcing my back to lie against the empty chair behind me. He thumped and thumped my torso. Throughout I gasped and yelped, moaned and screamed.
Then, without warning, TwistedView pulled me towards him. My face once again sunk into his tummy. My hands now gripped his sides as he beat against my back.
He followed the rhythm of the dubstep, beating out the music through my frame. At a particular interlude, the music slowed. He took this moment to run his knuckles up and down my spine. But, once the beat dropped, he again pounded my back relentlessly.
My beating complete, he rubbed my back and held me tight. I slowly leaned back and finally opened my eyes. I smiled, floating high.
Later, when it was time for everyone to depart, TwistedView explained, “Sometimes I’m just in a punchy mood.”
“Well, if I’m ever at an event, and you’re in a punchy mood, tap me on the shoulder.”
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