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Waiting	By : girlcalledkill00 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Green Day Views: 1858 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know or own the band Green Day or any of it's members including Billie Joe and Adrienne Armstrong. This is purely fiction and I made no money from writing it, just enjoyment.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter 3: Brutal Love
[BDSM Warning: proceed if you are ready for kink, bondage and painful pleasures...]
Fuck. I can only shake my head. I can’t speak, my voice is caught in my throat.
“Get up, now, and lay face down on the bed. Right now, don’t make me wait . You know you need this, Billie Joe. It will help you to be good.”
I stand up, feeling creaky and stiff after all that time on the floor. My erection is harder than ever. Trembling, I lay on the bed, and I can’t help but say meekly, “Mistress, please…do you have to?”
“Why are you speaking, Billie Joe? “ She says, "You're only going to make it worse for yourself." I stretch out face down on the bed. At least I'm off of my fucking knees.
“I'm sorry Mistress...please, don't..oh God...” I beg, facedown, my voice muffled by the blankets. I begin to feel sick with fear and anticipation and I clutch at the covers with a death grip on either side of my face. I flinch when I feel her hands on my body, claiming me as her own. She doesn't reprimand me for speaking. She is usually lenient with me if I'm begging. She likes it.
Without saying a word, she runs her fingertips up and down my arms and back a few times with a slow, delicate touch that makes me tremble. Gently prying my hands from the covers and pulling them up to the headboard, she handcuffs them together over my head. She squeezes the cuffs so they are on tight and I can only whimper into the covers when I pull on them and they pinch my skin.
"Sh, Billie Joe, don't start complaining now. You know you deserve this. If you would just follow my rules and do as you're told, I wouldn't have to discipline you so much."She is once again running her hands along my body, now stroking harder and further down, from my chained hands, down my back, over my ass, down my legs. I try very hard to stay still. I want to please her so much, it hurts. "Billie Joe, you're just so beautiful, you've worked hard and gotten yourself into fine shape. So strong and beautiful, my lovely sub."
"Yes, Mistress, thank you," I whisper. I'm too terrified to have a conversation about pre-tour workouts. But I'm grateful that she is pleased. My body belongs to her.
She gets to my feet, and she's got shackles ready, down there, too, attached to the foot of the bed. She locks up my ankles together, crossed, then pulls the chain tight and sets it on the hook that way. I'm stretched out, vulnerable, bound and ready. I'm ready to burst, I'm so hot and hard. I wonder if I can get off secretly, by moving against the covers. She must have read my mind, or she knows my mind, anyway.
"Billie Joe, you are not to squirm around like a slut, trying to come. You know that you're not allowed to come without permission." She is once again stroking and caressing my skin, up and down my body. I tremble and groan. She slaps my ass, hard, with her open hand. It stings and makes me gasp, but I know it's nothing compared to what's coming. "I told you to shush, I don't want to hear you complaining, with any of your little pathetic noises. Got it?"
Turning my head to the side, between my arms, so I can breathe and speak, I can barely squeak out, "Yes, Mistress." I am afraid, and on the verge of tears. "Please..."
I feel the shifting of weight as she gets off the bed and picks up the belt that she had set by my chained ankles. Terror floods me all at once and I pull uselessly on the cuffs, both overhead and at my feet, and I hear the metallic 'clank' and the rattle of the chain at my feet. "Please... Mistress..." I whimper.
"Be quiet. This is going to happen, Billie Joe. If you make noises or speak without permission, it's only going to be worse. I already have another punishment in mind for your blatant disregard for my rules. I can think of even more, if you need it."
I give up trying to talk. I tense up my body in preparation for the first blow. I don't know where it's going to land. That makes it worse.
I can hear the belt coming through the air for a half second before it hits my skin with a burning, stinging blow on my ass. Jesus Christ it hurts like fucking helI. With a gasp I instinctively try to jerk away, and I only pull my wrists painfully in the tight handcuffs as a result. I curl my fingers tight around the chain and clench my teeth.
"That's it, my beautiful thing, keep quiet," she says for encouragement. I hear the next blow coming and once again she brings the belt down, hard, onto my ass, now slightly lower. I jerk and gasp. The pain is extraordinary. She's strong for her size. Like me, I guess. I don't feel strong right now, though.I can't help it; the tears fill my eyes, and with a whimper I am weeping into the bedcovers.
Over and over she hits me now, each blow a fiery blast of stinging pain. She pays particular attention to my ass, like always; but just as a suprise she also visits my shoulder blades, my lower back, and even the backs of my knees. Holy shit, that hurts, to get beaten on the back of your knees. Gasping and weeping, I bite the inside of my mouth. I flinch and try to twist and escape each blow but I am bound so tightly, it's no use. My wrists and ankles are sore from yanking on the cuffs. I am drenched in my sweat; the covers are damp with it.
Pausing her relentless assault, she says calmly, "Billie Joe, why am I punishing you?"
I am gulping for air and sobbing, having turned my face to the side, by my bound arms. My ass is on fire with pain. And she expects me to talk. Jesus.
"I was...bad," I manage through my tears. She draws closer by leaning in.
"Yes, and how?"
"I....disobeyed you, Mistress." I turn my face down and sob and gasp into the covers.
She seems to consider this. She runs her fingers through my sweat soaked hair for a moment. I feel my cock harden and buzz just from her being near me.
She stands up, and lays into me yet again. I want to scream, it hurts so bad. But the most amazing thing is, I don't even consider the safeword as an option. I'm such a goddamn submissive, through and through. The pain is extraordinary, but somehow, despite the pain and the chains and the rules, or because of them, I feel more free here, with her, than anywhere else in my life. So instead I bite the inside of my mouth and whimper as I try to breathe through the pain. Finally I cry out, "Please,"
"Please what, Billie Joe?" She has paused, at least. I am panting for air as I writhe with pain.
"Please, I'll be good, Mistress. Please stop."
"How do I know you'll be good? What will you do next time, little pet?" Her hand is in my hair again, but this time she is not gentle. She pulls on a handful of damp curls and forces me to turn my tear soaked face towards her. I groan and gasp.
"Please, I'll hold still when you tell me to wait for you on my knees, Mistress."
"You'd better. What else?"
I could barely think. God, why the hell does she make me have a fucking conversation with her when my ass is throbbing with pain and I can hardly breathe? Actually I do know. She has a reason for everything. If she doesn't engage me once in a while, I'll slip away into subspace, and she doesn't allow it, it's too pleasant for me. So now I'm being forced to think and talk. I try to process her question and catch my breath.
Before I even know what is happening, she is upright again, and lands a few more fast, hard blows to my ass. I whimper and groan, I just can't stay quiet any longer. "Billie Joe, what else? You are taking too long."
"M--Mistress, please, I'm sorry...when I was waiting for you, I twice made noises with my voice. I...I'll be quiet when I wait for you. Please, oh shit, please don't hit me again."
She swings the belt hard ,and, this time taking her time with it, she lands five more good blows to my poor sore ass.
"What else? Billie Joe, I swear to God, I'm going to beat the shit out of you if you don't talk about the rules you broke, all of them."
Reduced to nothing but pain and shame, I writhe and sweat and whimper, "P--please... I moved my arms...I'm sorry....I didn't k-keep my arms at my sides." My words come between sobs. Finally she tosses the belt by my feet. I feel it thud on the bed. I am crying into the covers.
She climbs into bed and lays against me, skin to skin. I realize, she is naked. Somewhere along the line she must have tossed the tank and the panties. I am hot and soaked in sweat. Her skin is cool, dry, and so soft. I turn my face to look into her eyes, but I am panting so hard, I cannot speak.
"You took your beating well, sweet little pet," she says as she gently pulls my hair from my face. "I was hard on you. But you deserved it, didn't you?"
"Yes, Mistress, "I manage to say throuh my weeping and heaving breaths. She lays her soft arm across my sweaty back and gives me a little squeeze. The feeling of her skin on mine is electrifying. She smiles at me.
Shit, I'm still hard as a rock. My cock aches, and she hasn't even touched me yet.
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Waiting