2018-10-25 Shades of Cruel Gina - in Progress

by Matt Triewly


A moth to a flame...

"... and when I found out he had been two-timing me I went up to him and punched him so hard in the face I actually broke his nose. When he dropped to the floor I then kicked him hard several times in the stomach and back. When it came to the divorce I took him for every penny I could. He soon found out that I wasn't the kind of woman who put up with any shit from a man. And what's more I never let him see his daughter again. Not that she wants to have anything to do with him, she's got me and I'm all she needs. It was a painful lesson for him. Very painful," she says with an accent that has more than a hint of Cockney.

As she describes the acrimonious end to her marriage my cock tingles as it becomes hard and starts to strain against the fabric of my trousers - I'm kind of drawn, like a moth to the proverbial flame, to violent and strong females, especially Gina who is slim, blonde, tanned, good looking and in possession of the most beautiful, yet cold and almost psychopathic, blue-green eyes I've ever seen.

She is wearing a tight white T-shirt and close fitting jeans and I know that I desperately need to submit to her. Let her use and abuse me. Do anything - anything - to make her happy. And I have given myself completely to her in this moment.

But, how to do that.

I become aware of the sun beating down on my hair and warming the top of my head. Blue sky. Cloudless. Hot. Beautiful weather. Glorious.

I'd just walked over from the bus station to get myself a cup of tea and a sandwich from the café where Gina had worked. I could have brought in my own food and made my own tea and saved myself some money. But I didn't as going over to the café meant I could ogle her and maybe chat her up, though to be honest I did think she was probably out of my league. Anyway, as I got to the perimeter of the outside seating area of the café Gina was coming out as she had just finished work. It was good timing as I'd managed to get to chat to her. For some reason we ended up talking about relationships and that was when she had told me about her and her husband. Or rather ex-husband...

"It's nice talking to you, Matt, but I've got to nip up town and get a new curtain rail for my lounge. I can't say I'm looking forward to putting it up but needs must..."

"Well," spotting an opportunity, "I don't mind coming round and putting it up for you. It would be no trouble."

"You sure?"

"Honestly, it really would be... no trouble, Gina. I get home just after six and I can be round... about half seven?"

"Okay, Matt, that's really very good of you. Thanks. The address is Flat A, which is on the ground floor, Townview House, 31 Oak Street. I guess you know where that is, Matt?"

"I do. In fact it's not that far from where I live - Bell Street. Have you got a mobile number, Gina? I'll let you know then when I'm on my way."


I get my mobile out and click onto 'New Contact'.


"Yes, fire away."

"It's... Zero. Seven. Five. One. Nine. Three. Five. Zero. Seven. Seven. Zero. Got that, Matt?"

"Yep, thanks." I finish tapping her name in before slipping my mobile into the right hand pocket of my work trousers.

"Okay, I've got to go now, Matt. I'll see you later."

"See you later."

She turns and I watch her, perhaps longer than I should, head for the pelican crossing that will take her across the busy Esplanade dual carriageway and then up Union Street to the shops. As she reaches the edge of the pavement I turn myself and head for the café.

I walk up to the counter to place my order and I am greeted by Joan. Joan is middle-aged with short brown hair, a roundish face and is wearing black framed glasses. Joan speaks with a cockney accent and is one of them what-you-see-is-what-you-get types. I really like her. She's a nice person.

"How can I help you today, Matt?"

"Um, mug of tea with extra milk and a cheese and tomato sandwich with white bread, please."

"That'll be £4.30 please... sir," she says with mock deference.

I hand her a £5 note and then wait for her to ring up the sale. She opens up the till, scoops up some coins, comes over and drops them into my upturned and open palm. There's a pause for a second and then she says, "Matt, it's not really my business, but I just saw you exchange phone numbers with Gina..."

No, it's not really your business.

"And you're a really nice guy. I know you've been hurt in the past. That all you want... deserve is happiness, but Gina is trouble. Big trouble."

She stops talking for a second. I wonder if she feels that she's interfering too much. Has gone too far. But then something clicks in her mind and I can see that she feels that she is doing the right thing... for me.

She continues. "Look, Gina uses men, uses them for what she can get out of them - which is mainly financial - and then she dumps them. Nobody knows where she gets her money. She only works when it suits her at low paid jobs. And we reckon she fiddles her benefits too because she's always got money for the things she wants. She can also be quite nasty too. Violent. Apparently, she recently slept with a friend of the boss and when he snubbed her afterwards she went round to his house and told his wife what he'd done. It caused no end of trouble. When the boss mentioned it to her all Gina did was laugh. Matt, just stay away from her. You're a really nice fella."

I feel a little taken aback by what Joan has just said. But on the other hand I do kind of admire Gina for getting her own back on guys that treated her badly. Of course if I'd been out with her I would have treated her like a lady and with total respect. It was the kind of man I was.

"Thanks for your concerns, Joan, but I'll be fine. I'm a big boy now."

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you."

I walk to the glass door of the café and push it open. Once outside, I find a free table, pull out a chair, with the metal legs of it scraping noisily momentarily across the concrete causing the handful of other customers to suddenly look in my direction, and then sit down on it.

I listen to the seagulls screeching and watch the procession of cars and vans and buses, with few and intermittent gaps in the traffic, negotiate the tightly curved roundabout before speeding up along the Esplanade as the road straightens. I can also hear the waves lapping up against the sea wall and for a moment I feel quite tranquil. At one with the world...

I see myself on top of Gina. We are both naked. I am pumping her hard and she is moaning feverishly. The bronzed flesh of her chest and breasts is covered in a thin film of sweat-

Joan plonks downs the plate with my sandwich and mug of tea. It startles me. Shakes me out of my little daydream. My fantasy. My desire. My lust. My hope.

"Thanks, Joan."

"Enjoy, Matt," she responds.

I wonder, as Joan wanders across to a now unoccupied table and starts to gather up used and dirty crockery whether she is thinking I'm a fool to get involved with Gina. Maybe I am a fool. Maybe I will really regret it. But then perhaps nothing will happen later anyway.

I pick up the cheese and tomato sandwich and bite into it. It tastes good. I'm hungrier than I realised...


"Thanks so much Matt for putting up the curtain rail. You have really saved me a lot of hassle."

"My pleasure Gina. It really was no trouble," I say to Gina, who is wearing a body hugging white T-shirt that is showing off her lovely tanned arms and tight jeans that emphasise her shapely arse.

"Would you like a cup of tea now?" she asks me sweetly.

"Yes, please."

She then comes up to me, places one of her hands on my shoulder and kisses me on my cheek. "Thanks, for doing that. I really appreciate it."

Without thinking I embrace her, put my mouth to hers and begin to snog her. She feels so good - so good. In response I feel her hands on my chest as she undoes a couple of my buttons. She then commences to lightly caress my chest and nipples. I close my eyes and immediately I become erect imagining us naked and fucking on her expensive black leather settee-

A sickening spike of pain shoots in my groin region. I feel instantly nauseous as though the insides of my stomach are being sucked out. I double over and slowly sink to the carpet. I pray desperately for the pain, which is way beyond my threshold, to lessen and go away.

Fucking hell! You've kneed me in the balls, Gina.

My eyes now wide open and watering, and the agony beginning to subside a little, I look up to see Gina standing there with her arms folded and a curious half smile playing across her lips.

"How dare you think that you can have your evil way with me. Just because you do me a favour it doesn't mean you can fuck me. Now get up, collect your tools and get out."

On unsteady feet and not knowing whether standing up will induce more pain I manage to straighten up. "Gina, I'm really sorry about what happened. Really, I'm very sorry."

"I don't think you're sorry at all, you're just sorry cos I've kneed you in the nuts and injured your pride to boot. Typical man. Time for you go."

With her stood at the door, her arms on her hips, I do as she requests and then stumble out into the street. As I step out she says, "I'll text you."

The air is chilly and the street lights are now illuminated with a hazy yellow-orange glow.

As I walk unsteadily along the road I put my hands to my groin which is still very tender.

I realise also that I want her now more than ever...


I am sitting on my sofa with my feet up and flicking through the television channels when my message alert sounds. I pick up my mobile, which is on the small wooden table to my left, and read the message:

Hi Matt I think it would be nice to catch up for a chat. Pop round at 8 tonight and don't be late. Punctuality is important to me. It is a sign of respect. X

I glance down at my watch - the time is 18:28 - and immediately reply.

Hi Gina. Nice to hear from you and very much looking forward to seeing you shortly. X

A few seconds later: I'm looking forward to seeing you too Matt x P.S. Bring £100 in cash.


The door to Gina's flat swings open inwards.

"Hello, Gina," I say a little sheepishly, a little overawed.

She is wearing a sleeveless black top and black trousers. And both are tight fitting. It doesn't look like she has a bra on either. Her feet are bare and her toenails painted red, as are the nails on her fingers. Her fragrance is kind of cloying, overpowering.

"Leave your shoes at the door, Matt, and then come in."

I bend down, unfasten the laces of my black, recently polished, shoes before slipping them off and placing them neatly next to the door mat. I then stand up and for a moment I find myself lost for words - such is the effect of her presence upon me.

"Well, it's good to see you Matt, why don't you go and sit yourself down in the lounge whilst I make us both a cup of tea. I've also got some fruitcake. Do you fancy a slice?"

"Yes to both please, Gina."

"Do you take sugar, Matt?"

"Two please."

"Okay, I'll be back in a minute."

I push open the door to the lounge and plonk myself down on the expensive looking black leather reclining sofa.

You like the good things in life, Gina, don't you?

After a couple of minutes of twiddling my thumbs Gina enters the lounge with a tray upon which are two mugs of tea and two plates with the cake on. It all appears quite mundane and cozy.

"Make certain you don't spill tea or drop crumbs on the carpet Matt or I shall be very cross," Gina says with mock severity.

"I certainly won't," I respond kind of jokily whilst recalling the crushing pain and the humiliation of the ball kick just three days earlier.

I carefully lift the plate to just under my chin and pick up the slice of fruitcake with the other one.

"I don't really know a lot about you Matt. Quickly tell me about yourself. Or rather the important bits."

I hurriedly chew upon the cake and swallow quickly - I don't like making Gina wait any longer than she should for an answer. I place the plate down on the glass coffee table to the left of me.

"Well, where do I start? I'm a bus driver as you know, I have my own house, two bedroomed, in Bell Street. I'm thirty-seven years of age-"

"Hmmm. Just two years younger than me," Gina had interjected. "But... continue."

"I'm single, I broke up with my long term partner, Sharon, just over a year ago. Um, my Mum died six years ago and I never knew my father. I normally go swimming about twice a week, occasionally go out for a bike ride. I like reading-"

"Stop. Is your mortgage paid off?"

"Yes. My mother left me a house, it was a bit too big, which I sold and then bought this one outright."

"Good. We'll leave it there with your bio for the moment. Now, whilst we've been chatting it hasn't escaped my attention that all you have been doing is looking at me, ogling me, undressing me with your eyes. Is that correct?"

I feel my cheeks flush. But she is right. I had been staring at her exposed, smooth, deeply tanned and unblemished (that is, apart from couple of small black moles on the upper forearm of her right arm and a slightly larger one at the base of her neck) flesh.

I drop my eyes and feeling decidedly uncomfortably say, "Y-yes, I have been, I'm sorry-"

"No need to be sorry. I am an attractive woman, very attractive some say, even though I'm nearly forty. I'll also let you in on a secret - I'm quite vain and totally in love with myself. I keep myself in shape and I'm even luckier to have good genes. I reckon I'll still be able to get the fellas for a good few years yet. Does that shock you, Matt?"

"Y-yes, I m-mean, no..."

"Well, let's put it this way, if I was a fat, ugly minger you wouldn't be here, would you?"

"Yes, you're right," I say, quickly regaining a small degree of composure.

"Okay, let's put the boot on the other foot. Finish your tea and cake, whilst I nip to the loo and when I come back I want you to have stripped naked. Don't argue, Matt, just do it."

"Y-yes... of course."

She leaves the room taking out her plate and mug, closing the door behind her.

For a second I am paralyzed. Stunned. It all feels so surreal. But nevertheless I unbutton my check shirt, pull it off then drop my black trousers. Next I take off my underpants and socks. Now naked I then pick up my discarded clothes and place them into a neat pile on the carpet. As I stand there, momentarily alone, a curious mix of humiliation and excitement washes over me so much so that my cock becomes as stiff as a broom handle. I wonder how Gina will react to that when she sees it.

I discerned her footsteps padding along the hall and wonder whether to cup my hands around my genitals. But I opt not to.

Gina enters the room and faces me.

"I'm glad to see you've done as I instructed. Okay, what I'm going to do is inspect you, and when I've finished that I'll make a decision as to how much use you're going to be to me. Understand?"


"Right, let's start at the top." She comes up close to me. "Well, firstly, your hair's too long, looks scruffy, it would look a lot better if it was short and neat. I reckon a grade three every three weeks will keep it smart - I like my men, no demand them, to be smart."

You have other men?

"Secondly, your little goatee beard is fine, but make certain it is trimmed every other day at the minimum. Thirdly, you should shave your face just before you see me as I like smooth skin on a guy. Incidentally that also applies to your pubic area and armpits - I don't want to see any hair there at all as it can become smelly."

She takes a step back and says, "Swivel round, give me a little twirl."

I move slowly round.

"Okay then. You're not in bad shape, reasonably good looking but not handsome, and you haven't got any unsightly blemishes, though you are a bit overweight - maybe a little more swimming will help with that. You've got nicely shaped balls and your cock's probably a little bigger than average - I've seen a few larger but a lot smaller - so that's a plus point." She then adds, "Despite what women say, size is important and even though it isn't a guy's fault he's got a small one I'd never go out with a fella with a tiny cock. I'm also pleased to see that you're pleased to see me as I'll be needing you to perform at a drop of a hat. Or should that be a drop of the knickers." She smiles at her little witticism. "However, when you're not seeing me you do not masturbate or have sex with anyone else."

For a second there is a silence and then she says, "Stay in position for another minute, Matt, as I'm going to take a picture of you. It's one for the scrapbook." She then picks up her phone off the coffee table, points it at me and presses the shutter button.

"So, Matt, are you okay with the rules?"

I nod and say, "Yes, Gina."

"That's good to know, Matt. However, if you disobey or piss me off in any way then I'll dump you. I'm a hard and demanding bitch, amongst other things which you will find out. Or maybe you won't find out. Of course, you can walk away at any time, it's a free country."

"I'm fine Gina and I want to make you happy."

"Well, I'm glad that's settled, Matt. But I'd better make clear right from the beginning that I'm never going to fall in love with you, that underneath I don't really care for you, and in actual fact, apart from a few close relatives I don't actually give a shit for anybody in this world. I know exactly what kind of a person I am and I know exactly how the world works. I intend to take as much as I can in life from life for as long as I can. One day I'll die and that'll be that. Nobody will mourn me, nobody will thank me for a being a decent person, unless they're false and want to be liked by the people they intend to con. Yeah, I see the world the way it is. I see you the way you are and I shall use you, abuse you and make your life hell at times. And do you know what, you'll love me all the more for it..."

She trails off at this point and I wonder if she is perhaps regretted revealing too much of her inner thoughts.

"Okay, Matt, you'd better go to the loo now and when you come back I'm going to see what kind of a man you are... but probably not in the way you're thinking. And it's going to cost you that hundred quid. I ain't a cheap woman." She smiles in what I am increasingly begin to see as rather spiteful or even evil.

I walk down the hallway to the toilet. As I pee into the bowl I discern Gina's soft footsteps as she walks first down the hallway and then into her bedroom where I just make out the sound of a wardrobe door opening. I then hear her walk back along the hallway and into the lounge.

What are you up to Gina?

I finish up, flush the loo, wash my hands and then open the door.

As I enter the lounge the first thing I noticed is that there is a red towel over the head rest of the sofa and another directly below on the carpet. Gina is standing at the far end of the sofa and in her right hand she is grasping a long bamboo cane. It is clear she is intending to use it on me.

"Before I forget, Matt, could you give me the hundred pounds now and put it on the coffee table. It'll go to a good cause, don't you worry."

I kneel down and slip out my wallet from my trousers before pulling out the £20 notes and placing them on the table.

"Good boy. Now tell me Matt, have you ever been caned before?"

"W-well, n-no I haven't."

"Even better. It's going to come as a bit of a shock. You see this is a way of making you... compliant. Instilling obedience in you. Proving your loyalty to me. And also I rather like seeing males suffer... turns me on at times."

I gulp.

"I want you now to bend over the sofa, at the end, with your hands on the seat and your torso and feet on the towels"

I do as she orders. Pain, no agony, is just seconds away - fear is already coursing through my now trembling naked body.

Gina, behind me now, whispers in my right ear, "I'm going to really hurt you and in some ways it will be worse than the knee in the groin as it's going to be protracted. By the way, since you were ogling at me all evening, I just thought I'd let you know that the clothes I'm wearing now are what I always put on when I'm going to formally punish a guy - the sleeveless top doesn't restrict my swing. So, in future if I'm in that top then you'll know that you are in for some punishment. Right, I think we'll get on with it."

There's a brief 'whoosh' followed almost immediately by a 'crack'. And a split second later a line of fire ignites along my buttocks accompanied by an unpleasant tingling sensation in my cheeks. It takes all my resolve to remain in position.

"I told you it would hurt. Now, Matt, tell me what I expect of you."

I swallow and reply, "You want me to have a grade three haircut every three weeks. You want me to shave before I see you. I must keep my beard trimmed. I must shave my pubes and under my arms every day-"

<Whoosh> <Crack>


"You needn't bother with giving me a speech. All I need for you to do is... obey"

My face is hot and I begin to sweat. I understand the reason for the towels now - she doesn't want perspiration on her sofa or perhaps blood and other bodily fluids dripping onto her carpet

<Whoosh> <Crack>

A 'hot wire' is dragged across my flesh.

"I promise to TOTALLY obey you."

"That's more like it. Obedience. Total obedience. Yeah, I like the sound of that. Almost as much as like the sound of the cane impacting on your skin."

<Whoosh> <Crack>

"Oh... oh... my God..."

"Ha-ha," she laughs, there is no god..."


"It's over, Matt. You can straighten up and get dressed."

It was just a blur of pain towards the end and my buttocks tenderized meat. Dazed. Broken. Tame. Obedient. Surrendered.

"You can go home now. I will text you when I want to see you next, but don't contact me and don't say hello in the street should you see me either. You can go to the café because I've left now - it was a shit job."

I am too stunned to speak.

How could you do this to me, Gina? I love you.

She comes up to me and kisses me gently on the forehead. "You've been very brave, Matt. It's so touching that you care for me that much," she says compassionately and then adds, "Oh look you've got a little tear rolling down your cheek." She puts a finger up to it and wipes it off."

Something breaks inside of me and I drop to the floor crying like a baby...


I am standing there naked and trembling and broken and wretched. My buttocks are tender and torn and burning and beaten.

Facing me is her. Her tanned and toned arms on her hips. Black sleeveless top. Tight jeans. Slim. Cruel blue-green eyes. Blonde. Beautiful.

We are in her front room. Snow coloured deep-pile carpet. White walls. Brass fitted wall lamps. Black leather sofa. Heavy green patterned curtains. Lighting just right. Temperature just right. Television situated just right. Everything just so. Controlled. Perfect. Perfect for her.

She looks at me and smiles and then walks over to me. She places her hands each side of my cheeks and gently raises my head. Then she wipes a tear off that has almost reached my chin.

"I enjoyed that, really enjoyed that," she says, with a husky almost cockney accent. "You've never had two hundred strokes before. I wondered whether you would pass out at one point. But you did well. Very well."

I nod and sniffle. I need her approval. No, I crave her approval.

"I can't help the way I am, you know. Nature made me that way. I am cruel one minute and kind the next. Jekyll and Hyde. Sweet and sour. I regret nothing in life. Feel no guilt. Every decision I make is for me, and I seldom get it wrong. I love myself. Love my body. Love my, so the hypocrites say, depraved and lustful desires. I get what I can out of life and I intend to live my life to the full for as long as I can."

She takes her hands away and adds, "I couldn't resist the video to 'entertain' you whilst I caned you. Nice little touch wasn't it? The thing is I knew you had fallen in love with me and had maybe entertained the notion of me being totally 'exclusive' to you. You probably thought that I would fall in love with you in return. But that ain't going to happen. Now now. Not ever. Not with any man..."

I cast my mind back about thirty minutes. I am naked and scared and shaking, and strapped firmly to the caning bench, the caning bench she had made me pay for. I had been waiting for the first stroke of the cane to land agonisingly across my bare and vulnerable buttocks. But there had been a pause and then she had brought a kitchen chair into the room and placed it in front of me. Less than a minute later she had returned with her laptop and plonked it on the seat of the chair. I had watched her, intrigued, open the lid and select a file prior to clicking it. She had then walked behind me to pick up the long rattan cane she used to punish me with. As she did the video began to play. At this point I discerned a 'whoosh' and a split second later the excruciating pain of the stroke seared across my buttocks. As the agony began to wane slightly I saw on the screen a view of her bed - the camcorder obviously placed at the foot of the bed. Just at the edge of the screen I could see her taking all her clothes off. There were voices, hers and a man's. She then administered the second stroke and when I had opened my eyes which were already watering she and the man were both nude and on the bed. Gina had then whispered in my ear, "You're just going to love seeing this." The third stroke had followed. And whilst I had been caned I had watched her - tanned all over, small but shapely breasts and shaved cunt - and the guy - dark and swarthy and ruggedly handsome with a big cock - caress each other's naked bodies. He had snogged her and grabbed her crotch, she had taken his cock in her mouth and stroked the shaft. He had then gone down on her and licked her cunt and just before she came, her eyes glazed, she had smiled into the camera - smiled for me. She had screamed with the pleasure of the orgasm and thrown back her head. They had both laughed together for a moment, as though sharing some private joke, before she had then turned over and he had shagged her up the arse as his guttural grunting became a crescendo prior to the inevitable conclusion. And I had felt like shit, jealous and hurt and betrayed. And she had carried on beating me, beating me to a pulp. And when the film had finished she had started it again. And I had wept...

Back in the lounge I watch Gina smile and then let out a small chuckle. I can see that hurting me both physically and emotionally gives her great pleasure.

"I'm going to make you a nice cup of tea in a minute, but first I want to tell you something else."

I nod automatically. Numb. Emotions scrambled. Blitzed.

"Let me you tell you this, Matt, I know how you are feeling - shit. But the fact of the matter is that you are obsessed with me and that you will never have anyone as good as me. I may be nearly forty but I'm an attractive woman, a very attractive woman. I can get pretty much any guy I want. Incidentally, the fellow in the video is married and his wife is dowdy and boring. I told him I wanted to film us shagging and he readily agreed, provided I didn't show it to anyone else. Naturally, I lied, it's what I do, I'm a manipulative bitch, and if he gives me any hassle I won't hesitate to show it to his missus... "

I start to cry again.

She wanders over and puts her arm around me.

"Aw, how sweet of you Matt. But don't worry, I'm not going to dump you. Well, not yet. You see, you're so wonderfully..... pathetic and weak. You give me lots of money..... and I love spending. On clothes. On days out. On meals. On holidays. You see, for a girl who was brought up on a South London housing estate I ain't done bad. It taught me what life was all about and how people really were, and I've learnt those lessons well. I use people, men mainly, and I play the system to get the most out of it because at the end of the day nobody really gives a shit about you. Well, maybe apart from a few loved ones and close friends."

I realise that she is right. I am pathetic. I am weak. And I will do anything I can to make her happy. She can beat me and humiliate me. I will give her money. My hard earned money. My inheritance money. All of my money.

I drop to the floor, to my knees.

"I love you Gina, I will serve you in any way-"

"I know darling. I know," she says softly. "Now, I'm just going to make you a nice cup of tea. I've also got some Victoria Sponge if you'd like a slice. Afterwards, I'll wank you off. How would you like that? Mind you, it will cost you a hundred quid. Maybe I'll even let you lick my fanny - I love oral sex. But, that will cost you another hundred quid. Deal?"

"Yes, I'd love to."

She turns and walks out the door to the kitchen.....

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