Perfectionist Me

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Thank you to my Master for this superb editing.

Without you, I am nothing.

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The one thing I love most in this world is my coffee. I'm incredibly particular about how I take it and if I don't have it exactly how I want it, my entire day goes to shit.

When I go into a Starbucks, I expect a certain level of competency. It's not my fucking fault if someone gets my order wrong. I tell you how I want it and I will not drink it if it's served any other way.

So you could imagine my horror when one day my patience is tested.

I breeze coolly into a Starbucks one sunny morning, birds chirping with not a single cloud in the sky. I order a tall caramel macchiato with not one, not two, but three squirts of caramel, a double shot of espresso, and topped with a small dollop of whipped cream.

I wait at the pickup counter, steel-faced with pursed lips whilst tapping my foot impatiently, glaring at the customers sitting listlessly around like it's a rest home. I look to the employees making my drink and make a face at them, pointing to my watch in exasperation.

"Could you hurry it up back there, for Christ's sake? You're making me late for my meeting."

I turn away from them and scowl, murmuring under my breath about how incompetent they all are. After what seems like hours (but only 3 minutes) I finally get my drink. I take one sip and screech.

"Excuse me! What the fuck is this? This isn't what I ordered. Take this cup of shit and give me what I paid for or I'll have you all fired for stupidity."

The manager approaches me and politely asks me to leave. I go on a rampage, swearing at the top of my lungs about how awful this drink is and how dense the employees must be for getting one simple order wrong. As I'm ushered onto the curb, I turn around with drink in hand and bump into you, spilling hot coffee all over the front of your clothes.

"Watch where you're going!" I growl as I spin on my heels and stalk away, fuming and bright red with rage. I turn into the underground garage where I parked, far on the opposite end of the garage. I mutter belligerently the entire way there, irate and distracted.

Too distracted to hear your footsteps.

You strike so quickly, I'm stunned. One moment I'm walking, alone and isolated in my own rant. The next moment I'm shoved up against a nearby parked car. I scream and push back but you're too powerful. The vague odor of coffee pervades my senses, and I'm reminded of what just happened.

I try to twist in your hold and I'm met with a resounding slap across the face, followed by a firm hand shoving my cheek into the cold metal of the car frame. I grab your arm with both my hands and pull toward my mouth, biting down on it with all my might.

You cry out and plant a hand in the middle of my back, pushing me against the steel of the car. Quickly yanking up my skirt and pulling down my panties in one movement, you begin to spank me mercilessly.

"Don't think for a second you can act like a spoiled fucking whore of a brat and get away with it, cunt."

I hear you undoing your belt, then feel the cool embrace of leather around my neck before it becomes a vice to steal my breath from me. You start slapping my ass again, but this time you don't stop.

"Feel me."

Thwack, thwack.

"Reach behind you, bitch!"

Thwack, thwack.

"..and feel.."

Thwack, thwack.

"..what your tantrum did to me."

Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack.

I am normally a woman that always gets her way, even if it requires kicking and screaming. But amidst my grunts of agony, something in me tells me to obey, and not provoke you further.

It's then that I notice the smoldering fire of cock that had been burning through my skin to poke eagerly at my bones. I tentatively reach back and grasp your manhood, pulsing hard at my touch in all of its veiny glory. Something inside me and very against my will begins to stir as I feel the familiar warmth between my legs.

"If you want me to stop punishing this pretty little ass of yours, you'll let me inside of it."

You continue tearing away at my cheeks, keeping at it until the ring on your finger invokes tiny droplets of blood on my bruised flesh. I move my hand to guide you toward my ass and as you feel the burgeoning wetness from my pussy, you still.

"Well, look at that. The little slut is enjoying herself after all, isn't she?"

Impertinent and shocked by my own body's betrayal, I give no response.

"Aren't you!" You slap me in the face when I don't answer and begin to choke me so I cannot.

"You don't need to say the words, this sloppy pussy tells me for you."

You force your way into my wet hole, throwing me into the car beneath us crotch first. Grinding my hairy pussy onto the car and smearing my juices all over the hood. A few pumps later, you retreat.

"I've had enough of your cunt."

You wait for my movement. When I don't move, you slap my face hard, twice, to bring some sense to me.

"Move faster, bitch!"

As I tremble and position myself to allow you into my puckering asshole, you tear away at my cheeks again, making me scream and shudder in agony. Agony that a growing part of me finds delicious. You pause every now and again to feel the hotness that has developed from your assault on my body.

You slowly push into me, savoring the tight resistance of my clenching insides. You reach up underneath me and pull and tug on my nipples, teasing a soft moan from my tear-stained lips.

"You're not supposed to be enjoying this, you bitch."

You withdraw from me and shove your cock deep into my ass. I cry out in pain, feeling my knees go weak from the slow deep building of pressure inside my belly. You withdraw from me completely to push back all the way in. Again and again you repeat this, plunging into me with such force that you lift me off my feet until my weight is entirely on the car.

You slap me across the face, rocking my body off balance.

"Still enjoying yourself?"

You slap me again.

"No!"

And again.

"Fucking slut."

You slow your strides and grind my pelvis in slow circles into the car beneath us, the friction of this motion against my clit is too much to bear.

"Please, no! Oh fuck! Fuuuck!! I'm gonna cum!"

You slam into me again, harder and harder, rocking the car back and forth from your pounding. I clench so tightly around your cock that your own release is ripped from you and emptied into my bowels. You stop and rest your body on top of mine for a moment, catching your breath.

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