Chapter 13

Diana has slipped her robe as I made a grab for her, like a lizard leaving its tail. Naked, she's very agile, playing catching's, dodging from me every time I get close. I've sustained several painful bruises crashing into furniture and from when I crashed down, when the big rug slid from under me on the glossy floor. 

Now she's standing, bouncing gently on the bed and I'm circling. She's snatched up my pants on the way. "I wonder what's in here?" she's asking in her little girl voice.

She's got my wallet!  

"No! Don't do that. That's private!" I yell; and jump onto the bed to grab my pants back...

She jumps from the bed and skips off to the bare, open, floor area. The rug is bundled over to one side by my earlier skids. Now I can get some traction. I've got her.

Madre de dios! I'm on the floor!  How did she to do that? 

That lightning-fast battement, ballet kick, to the groin!  But that wasn't ballet, that was some kind of martial art.  

No wonder she likes to be called Kikka! She felled me with a single kick.

I'm in crippling pain; curled up in the foetal position; on the cold hardwood floor. I'm stark naked and vulnerable.

Diana is circling, taking her time, making a sort of purring noise like a tiger. She pushes me onto my back, piernas en jarras, legs apart, using her bare foot to drive my knees across, then down, forcing my legs out straight. I realise that she's not just faster and taller than me, she's probably stronger. She lifts a foot, threatening to kick me again. I don't dare oppose her. I comply. As a reward her big toe has begun stroking my genitales.

She's moved to stand right over my head smiling down seductively. "Would you like me to crouch down?... Show me your tongue."

I keep my mouth firmly closed. I'm not falling for that again.

"Naughty boy! I think you should always do as I tell you."

"Ahhh!" I yell. And I distinctly heard a high-pitched squeal of delight as she connected.

I'm whining in pain. I thrust my hands between my legs and bring my knees up to get some relief; and to protect myself from another kick.

"Oh, did I hurt you? I'm sorry!" To make her point she's lightly touching my penis with her toe again. It immediately responds to her will.

I've become conditioned to respond to her, like one of Pavlov's dogs. It's demeaning. I can no longer control my own body.

Now, smiling coquettishly, she puts on her gown and draws it tightly around her waist, as if to recover her modesty... as if she's suddenly shy, keeping her body a secret from my gaze. She's become serious.

"You know I'm seriously pissed off with you, for what you tried to do to me with Geraldo," she explains. "And I mustn't let you get away with something like that unpunished. It wouldn't be right... You need to be taught a painful lesson!"

She's circling again, smiling viciously como un asesino, like an assassin, and her voice is icy: "So after I've finished punishing you I'm going to call the police and give them the camera you stole.  I'll give them that camera-clock too, as evidence of your attempted blackmail."

A chill suffuses my body. This is a new turn of events. I thought this was just about kinky sex. But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Since meeting her yesterday afternoon things have gone from dominance to pleasure; to fear; to relief; to pleasure; to pain; to despair. It's been less than a day, yet there seems to be no immediate escape from this emotional and physical roller-coaster! 

***

To avoid the threatened punishment, I'm swivelling around on my upper back, keeping my knees tightly clamped, as she circles. The glass-like wooden floor is beginning to get slippery with my sweat and mounting terror.

"You very obligingly put your prints all over that clock again, when you were so pathetically distracted by concern for your manhood. It's a pity the card was corrupted or you might have got some hot blackmail material. You're just too easy to play. No challenge," she says happily, as she begins to pavonearse around me in the opposite direction.

She's crooning again: "You might be lucky and get a sympathetic judge... I would guess, say half a dozen years, as the prison toy-boy! You're so very sexy; and just so easy to subdue." 

To demonstrate, she's flying above me. I turn my head to follow her prance and discover her on the other side. She has her right foot drawn back like a footballer lining up a goal, with my head, now face first, as the ball. I'm frozen in fear, like a rabbit in the headlights as her foot draws back further for the kick. She's about to break my nose; my teeth; put out my eyes.

"Don't! Por favor, no lo hagas!" I beg. I'm still in dreadful pain from her last kick. I'm crying, pleading with her. I'm terrified!  She steps back, with a short derisory laugh. 

Her voice has become husky, lustful: "No, not the face. I don't want to spoil your beauty. The thought of what they will do to you in prison turns me on!...  Yes... that's an exquisite idea!", she purrs. "It could be very exciting for me to imagine what your new friends will be getting up to, using your sexy body in that way... every night, as I make love to Geraldo; or someone else." 

I panic. I have to get out of here. I'm trying to get to my knees. The heel of her foot rams into my ribcage, like a blow from a baseball bat. She's knocked the wind out of me. Could she have cracked my ribs?

"No one said you could get up!" 

I reach out wildly, trying to catch an ankle. But she's prepared for any attempt I might make to grab at her and prances away with a laugh. I'm left writhing helplessly on the floor.

She's back above my head bending at the waist; leaning over so I can see her commanding face above me: "Lie still, you little shit!"  

I give up and lie still as she wants. She's going on with her soliloquy: "Maybe I should get a bigger dildo for Geraldo? It's his usual punishment... It sort-of rhymes. Oh yes, what a nice idea. Both of you painfully buggered at the same time. I enjoy that in a man!"

"No! I've a better idea! I'm going to leave the memory card from that clock at the airport for Geraldo, as you were supposed to, and let him go ahead with his plan to disembowel you with his long sharp knife. No jail buggery for you I'm afraid. It's a pity. His knife will hurt you briefly but the death is so quick!"

I have no reserves of pride left. I begin to plead: "Please don't. Please just let me go. I won't tell anybody anything and you'll never see me again. Please Diana!"