Birthday Girl By Smac Kate gets a thumping for her birthday Corrected 11/06/2001 Jimmy dumped his holdall, mostly full of dirty washing, in a corner of the hallway. It had been a long week away at the building site in Brighton, he was glad to be home, especially as it was his wife's birthday today. He could hear her moving around quietly in the lounge, but she didn't come to the door to greet him. "Kate?" he called enquiringly. "I'm in here," came the superfluous reply. He eased open the door. He grinned despite himself. She obviously had something planned for her birthday and from the way she was dressed she was about ready for it. She'd on her very short black leather mini skirt, a bulging, thin white tee shirt and a pair of flip flops. She wore a bra beneath the top, but with her tits it was quite understandable. She'd have been damn sore if she'd had to wait round for him for long without some support for her 44 inch bust. Her waist, though by no means sylph like pinched in just the same to a very creditable 28 inches, her hips flaring again to 38. Given that she was only about 5 4 meant that she was pretty roly poly on the whole, but what breastworks! She was game for anything sexually and Jimmy could, for the moment, only guess at her intention. Especially she liked pain, not so much the giving of it, though she never balked, it was the taking of it which ate at her vitals. His eyes followed her gaze and all became clear. Jimmy was 6 years her senior at 32, he was red haired, a wild sort of character, given very much to do things on impulse, often just to see what it was like. That's how they'd met. Someone had been giving her a thumping outside a pub, he'd intervened, flattened the bloke only to be told to piss off in no uncertain terms. When she'd calmed down and he'd got most of the blood off of her, they went back inside for a drink and the rest was history. Now he was staring at a pile of things on the coffee table which included a couple of very large towels, two pairs of boxing gloves, one black, one red which he knew to be six ounce and a couple of large loops of orange plastic- covered clothes line. "Do you want a shower first?" she asked. "Nah, not much point is there?" She nodded slowly and gathered up the assortment from the table. He followed her upstairs, as he had so many times in the past couple of years. She nudged open the door to the spare bedroom and carelessly flung the whole pile onto the bare floor. He glanced at the floorboards, uncarpeted, unstained even, that is by wood stain, but drops of what he knew to be blood were everywhere. He knew what to do next, nothing. He leant against the door whilst she began to undress. She didn't vamp, she just took her time, making sure that Jimmy could see what she knew it was he wanted to. She would bare her massive tits first. She flicked the thick, long braid of blonde hair that ran down to her buttocks to make sure that it was out of the way before beginning to draw the saggy tee shirt over her head. He felt like helping, but knew his place. She bunched her already massive tits up with her upper arms till they threatened to spill out of the inadequate bra. When she'd confirmed that he was riveted to the sight, the back catch snapped open with a dull thud as the garment released it's load. She eased it off, again with her upper arms and flicked it onto her wrists before tossing it down with her shirt, near the pile of towels and things. She grabbed her great veined breasts, one in each hand and drew her thumb and forefinger down to knead the dark brown teats. She grimaced ever so slightly as she encountered the thick stainless steel rings which were driven through each nipple. Then, deliberately, she pulled both rings sharply, making her areolas stretch and elongating the holes through her teats. Their eyes met again. Kicking off the flip-flops she fiddled with the catch and zipper of the ridiculously short leather skirt. Carefully she inched it over her hips, down her barrel thighs and stepped out of it. She grinned slightly whilst she turned slowly so that Jimmy could see her own birthday present to herself, a tiny black leather g-string. The thongs cut into her flesh, the tiny vee at the front barely covered her slit, it was a good job she kept herself depilated. "Ready?" "Too fucking true," stammered Jimmy. She watched him get undressed. "Get those off," she demanded, indicating his ragged, unsavoury Y-fronts. "Here." She gave him a similar black leather pouch from her bundle. She almost grinned as she watched him struggle with it. He had a bit of a job stuffing his half erect penis into the leather pouch at the front. She patted her hair once more. "I'll have the red gloves, then you can lace them on properly," she demanded. The red six ounce gloves had proper laces, the black ones just elasticised cuffs. Even so, getting them on would be quite a job for Jimmy. "Any bandages?" he asked. She stared hard at him and stuck out her right hand, palm up. He grabbed the red gloves and sidled over to her, unaccustomed to the feel of the soft leather string up between his legs. Whilst he laced on the right glove she massaged the thin vee of black leather covering her vagina with her left hand, reversing the order when Jimmy began on the other glove. By the time he'd finished she was panting softly, her knees bent, thighs apart. She looked horny. After watching her for a bit he left her to it and went in search of his own gloves. Rummaging amongst the gear he again noticed the loops of line. He shook his head slowly. It did take him several minutes to get into the black gloves. The first one went on easily enough but the second took a lot of pushing and cursing. "You know what I want, if you can't split me with the gloves, the rings will have to come out. And try to leave my eyes alone this time." He remembered the mess he'd made of her right eyebrow when she'd last got the gloves out, "are you ready?" "Yes, get over here." She raised her red gloves, but not much, only up under her breasts. She sneered at his first attempt at hitting her. He was starting cold, she was too. The black six ounce gloves thudded into her shoulders. "Face or tits," she snapped. He smacked her between the breasts with a straight right, pinching both tits very painfully. She squeaked and glared at him again. He knew she wanted punches full on the breasts, not on her chest area in general. He bashed her in the face and she staggered back several paces. She shook her blonde head but egged him on with her red-gloved hands palm uppermost. A right cross to the cheek sent her back on her heels again. Her mouth hung open, she was panting. She took a swipe of her own at the bulging leather pouch covering his front. The uppercut smashed into his erect penis, crushing it against his hard belly. "It could have been worse," he thought. He knew what it was she was up to, like she always did, she was trying to provoke him, trying to get his back up so that he'd do the business on her. He was going to anyway, he wanted her beaten up, shagged and him out on the piss, the sooner the better. A left, right combination to her face confirmed his intention. Her lips looked thick and awkward after and there were clearly tears in her eyes. He was warming to his work. "If she liked to be beaten up," he reflected, "then he was just the kiddie." He bounced the small, black gloves together under his chin before lashing out at her again. Kate was almost backed onto the wall now. He knew the score, get her back to the wall then knock her round the room till she'd had enough. In the early days he'd once tried to call a halt but he'd learnt his lesson since then. Now, when she got the gloves out, he kept belting her until he got told to stop. He used an unwelcome uppercut to the guts to get her back against the wall before beginning to bash her right tit with his own right fist. She went white after two punches but still kept her red gloves down at her hips. He gave her another four to the breast before sending a cracking straight right into the centre of her ashen face. The back of her head bounced off the wall and he hit her nose again on the rebound. Blood began to run freely from both nostrils. She smiled weakly. He stood off, giving her a chance to watch her blood splashing onto the upper slopes of her milky tits. The gore contrasted more with the left one as the other breast already glowed scarlet. She motioned him towards her again with the red gloves. He stayed with her face, spattering her cheeks and the wall behind with more blood from her nose. She automatically kept her head turned to the side so that his crosses tended not to make her head hit the wall at every punch. She took lots of leather in the face before cupping her tits during a very brief lull in the hail of blows. He took the hint, even hitting the breasts whilst she still held them up for him. Their eyes met, she still supported her tits and he started to club them even harder. He wasn't sure, there was so much blood from her nose, but after a few minutes he thought he could see blood welling from her right nipple, around the thick stainless steel ring. She suddenly waved for a halt. She sagged, gloves grasping just above the knee, gasping noisily, blood from her nose and teat splashing on to the already stained floorboards. "Had enough?" he asked in vain hope. She slowly shook her head. "Just a breather, you re doing well but don't rush it, it's my show don't forget." Not surprisingly he'd quite forgotten what the occasion was. She didn't keep him long. She grabbed her throbbing breasts again and he began to pump straights into the left, trying to get some blood from that quarter too. After several punches a right cross rasped the nipple ring badly and blood began to drip from the teat. She waved him away again and turned both tits up under her chin, looking carefully at her nipples. She indicated her face with her right glove and he came forward again. Her bottom lip opened up like a banana split. He didn't relish the sight but she didn't seem to mind, waving him toward her again. He knew he could hasten the proceedings by making sure that she hit her head against the wall but knew that she'd have her way in the end. Her front was already very messy. He gritted his teeth before starting to hit her again. The tilt of her head told him where to hit. He felt her nose crunch under his knuckles. A whack to her jaw line took her down again. She knelt on hands and knees, bare bum in the air. Blood ran from her face and dripped steadily from the tips of her hanging breasts. "A few more inches of swelling," he thought, "and her nipple rings would be touching the floor." The large hank of yellow hair had slipped over her bloody right shoulder, the soles of her feet were filthy from the mess on the floor, whilst her red gloves were open, palm flat on the boards. Suddenly she shook her head quite violently, pushed off with the red six ounce gloves and sat back on her haunches, lower legs splayed out behind her. She brought the unused gloves up to grasp her massive thighs. Her blood now splashed into her lap. He stood back but she looked up at him. She wasn't ready yet. With both nipples bleeding badly, breasts taut swollen, lips well and truly split and her nose almost certainly broken, he couldn't understand why, but she wanted him to hit her some more. He didn't want to touch her tits again unless bidden, so as soon as she'd propped herself against the wall again, he began to smack her in the face. Gone was the connivance to stop her head hitting the wall, it was just straights as hard as he could. She stood for about half a dozen before sliding down the wall till just her head was off the floor. She brought the bright red gloves up to her face and began to sob. Jimmy began to struggle to get his blood-wet black boxing gloves off. She was quiet by the time his hands were free of the leathers. He got one of the large, white towels and began to fold it into a cushion shape. She wriggled her bare bottom on the bare boards until she was completely prostrate. He lifted her injured head to slip the towel under it like a pillow. Her gloves went to her hips and he popped the two little catches which held the thin leather thongs together. She sighed when he pulled the soft piece of leather away from her bare pussy lips and again when she brought her right glove over to begin the massage of her mound. He slipped, as quickly as he could, out of his own string and stood before her, with a questioning look. She nodded and glanced over to the orange loops of line. Shrugging he picked them up. "Hadn't she had enough for one day?" Each large loop had a dog lead type of clip threaded onto it. He deftly clipped the loops onto the steel rings through her cut and bleeding teats. She sighed and grabbed his shoulders with her boxing gloves, pulling him down onto her. He wriggled free. "My gloves." It took him a frustrating few minutes to get the soggy, black six ounce gloves back on. He knelt between her knees. She moved her gloves away from her groin to clasp him to her once more. She slid the boxing gloves down between their bodies clumsily grasping his penis. He was already near ejaculation and clipped her round the ear. She squirmed and brought her gloves round to clasp his tight buttocks. She squeezed and he hit her again, in the face this time and quite hard. She kissed him and he entered her. "Again," she panted. He raised his right fist awkwardly and smacked it down into her nose. Blood squirted, the towel would be useless now. He could feel himself losing control. She moved his gloves round to her massive breasts. He knew what to do. He must be quick. He managed somehow to get a firm hold of the two loops with his gloved hands. A few more thrusts of his hips and she cried out. "Now."