Helen part two

[Myron Cumberland]

Our relationship grew stronger and our sex life grew more kinky as Helen began dressing the part of the dominatrix.  She didn't kick or knee me.  She was content with being in control.  I craved the pain of a solid knee or a kick or both, but I couldn't let on that it was my fetish.  I had had a girlfriend who knew it, and when we argued or fought, she held off doing it just to make me suffer.  I had to make Helen believe it was always her idea, it was always a surprise move, and I never liked it.  I got my chance when I went to pick her up for a movie date.  She was wearing a turtleneck sweater, a plaid skirt, and black leather knee high boots.  They didn't have stiletto heels, but thick, rounded ones.  Remember this description for later.  When I came into her living room, she got up off the sofa and came to me for a hug and a kiss.  I guided her back to the sofa and pushed her down onto it again.  Helen doesn't like being pushed, but I think she was interested to see what I had in mind.  I asked her to cross her legs.  One doesn't tell Helen to do anything.  With a confused and somewhat expectant smile, she complied.  Then I got to my knees in front of her and began nibbling on her knee and caressing her thighs under her skirt.  She's ticklish behind her knees, and I made her squirm with my twirling fingers lightly brushing those areas.  Finally, she gasped out "Myron, stop.  We're going to be late for the movie".  I said " Shut up, woma...oorgh" as her lower foot, the one on the floor, slammed into my schnutz.  I was already on my knees, so I rolled away, trying to protect myself from another kick.  I rocked back and forth, cupping my throbbing testicles with both hands, groaning.  Helen got up from the sofa and stood over me, hands on her hips, eyes blazing.  "You don't tell me to shut up, and you don't ever refer to me as "woman"!  Look at me!  Do you understand me?".  Then she drew her foot back as if to kick me again, and the look of abject fear on my face caused a strange transformation in her demeanor.  She was getting aroused at my helplessness and groin pain.  Jackpot.  It was all I could do to keep from kissing her feet.  She helped me up onto the sofa, and went into her kitchen for some ice.  I was glad she left the room because it gave me more time to recover and to moan loud enough for her to hear in the other room.  When she returned with the ice, I apologized for my words and begged forgiveness.  She said she was sorry for hurting me, but I could see what she wanted, and she wanted it right then and there.  I was going to make her work for it.  I gasped out "I don't feel up to the movie tonight".  I could feel her pulse quicken.  "Do you want to go to the bedroom?" she asked in an expectant voice.  "No, I'll just sit here for a while.  I don't feel like doing much of anything" I lied.  I was very hard.  Even the icepack covering my crotch did nothing to hide it.  Luckily, her eyes were on mine, and I could almost taste her animal lust.  She wasn't put off.  She had a trick or two to get me in the mood.  One was eating an ice cream cone.  The other was bending over to "grab a book from the lower shelf in her library", which she did.  She hums a tune so she can sway her hips.  The first time she used this maneuver, I about knocked the bookshelf down with the force of my dry hump.  It wasn't that hard this time because I was "still hurting", but the bedroom fun was an all night adventure.  In the early morning, I heard her low chuckle again.