Admiring Her Bow-Curved Body and Belly-Punch Discipline
Wow…
The gasp nearly slipped out of my mouth, but I swallowed it back down just in time.
The pussy juices clinging to her panties stretched out in long strands—like spider silk, or like the sticky drool a baby can't help but dribble.
"Aahngh… haah… stop… no… no…!!!"
Nabi begged me to stop in a voice thick with despair.
There was no reason—and no value—in listening to the pitiful pleas of a humiliated heroine.
I ignored her and yanked her panties down to her thighs.
The sticky cunt juices smeared across the stripped fabric stretched into a string, then snapped.
"I… I don't want this… please, really, stop… enough… enouuugh…!!!"
The moment her panties were pulled low enough to bare her pussy and asshole completely, Nabi cried out in panic.
Smack!
"Hiiieeek!!!!"
I raised my hand high and brought it down hard across her bare, already-reddened ass.
A scream tore out of her as that pudding-soft ass jiggled, a vivid red handprint blooming across the skin.
"For a pathetic little pervert, you sure talk a lot."
"Augh… hic… hhik…!"
"Shut up, you bitch."
"Hhik… hic…!"
After thrashing her ass without mercy, I smothered her resistance and spat the insults at her.
She started sobbing all over again.
I turned my gaze to Nabi's face—the face of a girl whose most private places had been laid bare without a shred of mercy.
Just looking at her expression, you could read the shame, the pain, and the pleasure her training was forcing out of her.
Telling her to shut up had been a lie, of course.
I wanted Nabi to wail even louder.
The sight of her suffering and crying came back to me as pure entertainment—my own private amusement.
I wanted to torment her until she sobbed harder, until her pussy got even wetter.
I drank in that arousing expression with satisfaction, then let my eyes drift slowly from my hand down along her side, her back, her hips—savoring every inch of Nabi's body.
Her two hands were locked tight in mine like a pair of handcuffs, pinned firmly against the wall.
From those captive hands I traced my gaze slowly up her upper body.
Even in a white short-sleeved T-shirt that looked a little loose, her big tits refused to be hidden—the fabric swelled softly over her chest.
Her torso and waistline curved beautifully, like a drawn bow.
That arch was the perfect fan-shaped sweep of a bowstring pulled taut.
From that bow-curved waist, my eyes traveled down to the hips thrust out behind her.
There, her ass rose in a plump, prominent swell.
It was the perfect posture for taking a proper beating—ass stuck out and waiting.
Spank her like this and the crack would ring out loud while that ass rippled and bounced.
Her legs, connected to those hips, stood straight—forming a right angle with her waist.
The short-sleeved top barely covered her navel, half-hiding it, half-not; from her waist down to her hips, the dolphin shorts that had been covering her cheeks now hung around her ankles.
The panties that had been hiding her pussy and asshole were caught around her thighs.
True bottomless exposure.
Even her top couldn't cover anything—her lower half was completely stripped, every part she was supposed to hide laid bare for me.
This was the lewd posture and outfit Nabi wore while I trained her and she drowned in shame.
But there was one flaw in the picture.
Frustratingly, her fat, full ass cheeks closed over the cleft and kept her pussy from showing clearly.
Between those plump, raised cheeks, her cunt—already soaked in its own juices—hid itself away.
Even so, the juices coating her labia and Y-zone gleamed wet enough to catch the light.
From her hips, my gaze settled on those juice-smeared, half-hidden lips.
A body this delicious, and she was already pouring out this much cunt juice.
I wanted to bury my nose in that vulgar, dripping pussy right then and there and lick up every drop that spilled out.
What would it taste like if I did?
Salty and musky, like the other women I'd had?
Or would it smell sweet and taste like pure sugar?
I was dying to know.
The spectacle unfolding before my eyes poured information straight into my brain, and my cock throbbed in reflexive response.
No.
I had to hold back.
Everything had its proper order.
If I snapped the leash on my reason right here and drove myself into that juice-smeared cunt, it might feel good in the moment.
But then it would be nothing more than blackmail and rape—just me scratching an itch.
Even if she said no, I had to keep working her body, keep her aching and desperate.
That was how you trained Nabi into my personal jotjip.
So even if my cock was throbbing, I had to endure.
The soft skin of Nabi's back under my hand.
The juice-smeared pussy filling my eyes, the panties soaked through and dripping.
The desperate, near-howling pleas in my ears, and the lewd little gasps threaded between them.
Visual pleasure, tactile pleasure, auditory pleasure—all of it satisfied at once. An erotic film was playing out right in front of me, and I was the star.
On top of that—something I hadn't even registered while focused on training her—Nabi's body smelled good.
Maybe she used expensive body wash, but it felt like the scent was coming from her skin itself.
My visual tour of Nabi's body under training came to an end.
My cock kept hardening inside my underwear, straining to rise, twitching with every pulse.
The front of my pants was bulging and shifting.
I wanted both hands free to work over every inch of her, but it wasn't practical.
Her wrists were locked in my grip, pinned hard against the wall.
One of my hands had to stay on her, which meant my own movements were limited too.
I could still spank her one-handed, but anything else got difficult.
Even if I wanted to shove my fingers into her pussy and dig around, the posture would force me into an awkward hunch—messy and half-assed.
Hmm… what to do…!
I could just let go and order her to keep her hands on the wall. Nabi was terrified enough that she'd almost certainly obey.
But… that would take the fun out of it.
She needed some additional discipline.
Nabi wouldn't like it—but that was the point.
"Please… please… stop… I don't want this… I don't want it anymore…!"
Still arched like a bow at the waist, Nabi begged with raw, desperate urgency.
The mix of casual and formal speech was the same as always.
Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, slid down her cheeks, gathered at her chin, and dripped to the floor.
"Hhik… hic… kyaah!!"
I yanked the hand holding her wrists and spun Nabi's body around hard to face me.
A scream burst out of her mid-sob, and suddenly I was looking straight into her tear-streaked face.
In those wet eyes, a bitch in heat was hiding.
A bitch who would bare her vulgar nature and go into heat the second you touched her the right way.
Even while she blubbered, a flush of pink colored her cheeks.
Fear, pain, pleasure, hatred and contempt for me—all of it seemed tangled together in her expression.
"Hngh… hup… hnnngh…!!"
Arms forced high overhead like she was being punished, the captive heroine glared up at me through her tears.
Glaring changed nothing.
Nabi's resistance was too entertaining.
Maybe she still clung to the delusion that she could somehow escape this if she fought back hard enough.
Well…
She was very thoroughly mistaken.
"Hiiit…!!!"
I lifted the hand gripping her slender wrists up to head height.
Suddenly hoisted by the arms, Nabi let out a startled cry.
I was 174 centimeters; Nabi was roughly 164 or 165—about a ten-centimeter difference.
The height gap made the posture a little awkward as I held her wrists aloft, but it was good enough.
With my free hand, I clenched a tight fist.
Thud!!
"Huuurk!!!"
Without a word of warning, I drove my clenched fist straight into Nabi's lower belly.
A dull, meat-chopping impact rang out as she made a choked, airless sound.
Softness met my fist where it sank into her gut.
"Huurk… urk… uuugh…!!"
I'd put a little force behind it, but even one hit left Nabi struggling to breathe properly.
Thud!
"Hurk!!!"
I punched her lower belly again—more precisely, the spot over her womb—driving up from below like an uppercut.
A short, strangled sound of pain and breathlessness burst from her mouth.
The slightly firm yet soft give of her lower belly, right where her womb sat, transferred cleanly into my fist.
I'd always wanted to try a belly punch after watching commercial porn…
I never thought I'd actually get to do it like this.
The sensation of driving a fist into her womb area was dangerously addictive.
Delicious. Satisfying. Dense.
It really did feel like hitting a punching bag.
"Aauugh… augh…!!"
Nabi lifted her knees and calves, twisting them together as she writhed in pain.
Her fingers kept twitching—she clearly wanted to clutch her lower belly.
I gripped her wrists tighter so she couldn't break free.
I wanted to hit her even more deliciously, but…
The posture was too awkward.
I wanted to hang her wrists somewhere and work her over properly with both hands—real discipline.
But…
Hanging her was one thing. I couldn't even see any rope to tie her wrists with…
I glanced around looking for something, but in a place where a woman lived alone, rope wasn't exactly lying out in the open.
What now…
I looked down.
And there, right in my line of sight, were the dolphin shorts I'd just stripped off Nabi.
…Ah!
I could use those!
I let go of Nabi's wrists for the moment.