Authors: Trent Evans
Wait — relationship?
He’d never called it that before. ‘Play’ or ‘arrangement’
were the terms she’d most often heard him use.
“N—no, Sir.”
“And why is that?” The cadence of his speech slowed, his
voice soft. But she wasn’t fooled — when he got this way, she knew she was in
trouble.
There were few right answers to these questions, and many
wrong ones. “Because my only duty is to obey, do as I’m told?”
“That’s correct. So, does that mean you get to suggest I
let you off of your spanking?”
Were it possible to unspeak words, she knew she’d be doing
it now.
“Ahh!” Her scalp burned as his hand tightened in her locks.
“No, Sir! I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.”
“Good, then we understand each other, don’t we?”
She nodded as best she could against his steely grip.
Blaine
let go of her
hair, his hand stroking from her nape down the length of her spine, fingers
tangling in the blouse bunched at the small of her back.
He squeezed her buttocks harshly, making her wince. ”Ready
for your spanking?”
I thought this was for you?
She was eternally grateful her snark did not make it past
her lips.
“Yes, Sir. Please, not too hard.”
Hands stroked circles over each cheek, adding to the heat
of her paddling. “That’s up to you. Be a good girl, and this shouldn’t take
long.”
The spanking began immediately, heavy smacks swiftly
building heat to scorching levels. His palm slapped down onto the middle of one
of her cheeks, the sound like a pistol shot. Soon, she was wagging her hips side-to-side,
unable to help herself, even though she knew it would only encourage him to be
even harsher with her.
“Keep still, Erica. I’m not hitting you that hard. A good
girl takes her spankings quietly.”
What the hell was he talking about? Her ass was
on fire
,
the pain much more intense than that from the paddling. She breathed in through
her nose, and out through her mouth, trying anything she could to cope with the
burning heat. All the while her body betrayed her, the deep uncoiling in her
belly as she thought of what he must be seeing, her naked ass laid out for him
to punish. She wished he’d give her a breather, to let the heat in her ass cool
off, but his steady, hard blows continued.
“Please, Sir! Too hard!”
Blaine
laughed, landing
a smack along the top of her thigh, making her yelp. “We’re just getting
started, girl. You aren’t fooling anybody.”
His hand spanked over every inch of her ass, raising a
throbbing burn everywhere. He paused after a harsh blow to the bottom of one
cheek, sending her flesh bounding. She was grateful her hair shrouded her
blushing face, for she hated the mortifying feel of her cheeks bouncing and
wobbling under his smacks.
“I love seeing your little bottom move, girl. We’ve got
some good color now too. Need some more here though.” His fingers pulled up on
one cheek, and she felt the stretch at the junction of thigh and buttock before
he cracked a palm down onto that sensitive spot. An identical blow smacked down
on the other cheek, shaking her whole body, the sting dragging a small sob from
her.
Blaine
moved his hips
against her. “God, you’re fucking
killing
me.”
I’m killing you?
She wanted nothing more than to take care of his problem for
him, but she knew there was no way it was happening until he’d roasted her
cheeks to his exacting specifications; likely until they were hot to the touch,
and tears streamed down her face. She had no doubt he’d then pronounce them
“just right.”
“Spread your thighs, Erica.”
Thankful for a reprieve from the punishing blows, she
gladly complied, widening her legs until she could feel her wet slit open,
exposed to him. The first few times Blaine had spanked her, the humiliation of
the exposure of her pussy (and often her bottom hole) to his gaze proved more
of a trial to her than the actual pain of the spankings. She always felt so …
vulnerable
.
Erica well knew that that was precisely the point, but knowing that didn’t make
submitting to it any easier for her.
Thick fingers traced the sensitive folds of her labia,
smoothing the delicate flesh out with gentle fingertips, then splaying her lips
firmly, making her gasp.
Yes, finally.
She never ceased to marvel that two hands that could deal
out such pain, be so rough, cruel, yet in the next breath, become so very
gentle, attentive, even loving. It was just one of the many remarkable things
about the man she called Sir. The man she hoped someday might truly claim her
for his own.
A long finger slid into her, curling in the way he knew
drove her insane with pleasure.
Oh God, yes!
His finger squelched within her soaked flesh as he
stimulated just the right spot within her, the exquisite sensation curling her
toes, the tension bunching the strong muscles of her thighs, her abdominals
clenching. “Oh, that’s good,” she breathed, her hips rolling, wanting more,
needing more. “Oh Jesus, that’s
so good
!”
Then he stopped, his finger held still inside her. She
tried to keep it going with her hips, clenching down, twisting upon him, but
his hand smacked her sore buttocks. “Stop that. You come when I say you can —
if I let you come at all.”
She stilled her hips, but it took every ounce of willpower
she possessed to do so. Erica thought about begging him (it wouldn’t be the
first time), or telling him she’d let him do anything to her (which she knew
he’d do anyway) as long as he
let her come
. The tension thrummed through
her body as she kept herself motionless, hoping, praying he would continue.
When he did, a tear slipped down her cheek, her sigh of
relief coming from the very depths of her soul. The man knew how to work a
pussy, and he literally (and figuratively) had hers wrapped around his finger.
She sighed as he eased a second finger deep within her, but
her sighs quickly turned anguished as he began spanking her once more with his
off hand. The explosion of fresh pain had her crying out within seconds. The
blows were different though, the stinging, jarring smacks somehow imparting a
vibration through her flesh straight to her throbbing, erect clit, her tight
nipples aching sympathetically.
Relentless, he did it twice more, working her to the brink,
then stopping. Her agonized protests, her desperate pleadings rose again as he
smacked her now blazing buttocks some more. The second time he stopped, he
added the calloused fingertips to her clit, working the hard nodule back and
forth along with the clever, devastating fingers stroking inside her pussy. She
grunted as he left off for a third time, clutching herself to his legs, waiting
for the harsh pain to begin again, accepting it as her lot. Her face was awash
in tears, her hair wet with it.
“Good girl,” he crooned, thrusting his fingers as deep as
they’d go, earning a groan from her. “That’s it girl, surrender to it. That’s
what a slave does. There’s no choice in this, only acceptance. Give yourself to
it, to me.”
Erica sniffled as he spoke to her. All she knew was that he
had her; he controlled her, her everything. There was no longer any shame, nor
any fear. There was just Sir and his slave. All she wanted was for him to make
her come, to let her come for him. God, she wanted it so much.
Fresh tears came to her eyes as he spread her buttocks well
apart, his soft lips upon the inner slopes, planting a tender kiss directly
upon the delicate, sensitive flesh of her bottom hole. He worked a broad hand
over the whole of her sex, cupping her throbbing labia, coating his palm
in her juices, the wet sounds of her soaked pussy making her whimper in
embarrassment.
His fingers left off one last time, peppering hard smacks
all over her bottom. He finished her off with a flurry of smacks marching down
the vulnerable flesh of her thighs, the harsh pain of the blows drawing a
strangled scream from her.
As she wept, the pain finally overwhelming her, his thick
fingers slid between her labia once more. “There we go, girl. No more spanking
now.” His fingers thrust in hard, and she moaned through her tears. It felt
so
good to be penetrated deeply, the primal, animal pleasure astonishing her with
its power. His fingers were back at her clit, pushing the hood back, fully
exposing the aching flesh to the pain and pleasure of his rough fingertips.
“Oh God, oh
God
! Please, Sir!”
“What do you want, girl?” He added a third finger to her
cunt, stretching her further as he plunged within her once more, the thrusts
rougher by the second.
“Please, I need to come! Let me come. Oh God, please!”
Rough, cruel fingertips swirled over her throbbing, aching
clit, and he pushed three fingers deep, the tips hard against her cervix. She
went over then, screaming out her ecstasy, the light in the room exploding into
a brilliant white, blotting out everything in her world but the mind-bending
bliss of her orgasm. She could feel her pussy flood over his fingers, her hips
jerking as he wrung more impossibly pleasurable spasms from her. Erica knew she
could happily die from orgasms this good. Her body finally hung, spent, her
lungs working like a great bellows, her breathing labored. Beads of sweat ran
down her inner arms, tickling her sensitive flesh.
“That’s my good girl. My lovely girl,” Blaine whispered as
she came down from it, his fingers gently stroking within her. He swiped a
fingertip across her over-stimulated clit, and she cried out in both pleasure
and anguish. Chuckling at her reaction, he did it again.
“Ahh, Sir, too much! Please, I can’t take it!”
Cruel man. Lovely man.
He bent over and laid a soft kiss on her wet cheek.
“Luckily, your Sir is merciful.”
Erica craned her head up at him, flashing a wry smile. “Is
that what you call it?”
“Watch yourself, Erica” But she could see the warmth in his
gaze. He was pleased with her.
“Come here now.” His strong arms enfolded her, bringing her
up to sit on his lap, her long legs curled over his thighs. She rested her head
on his chest, the beat of his heart a steady thump under her ear. The tip of
his hard cock was wet, and she felt the moisture against her thigh as she
hugged herself to him.
“That was … amazing,” she whispered, closing her eyes. Her
ass and her clit seemed to throb as one now, the afterglow of her orgasm
merging with, becoming indistinguishable from, the warm aching of her ass.
“It’s been too long, Erica.” His lips brushed her cheek,
nuzzled the frazzled locks at her temple.
She turned her head up to him, to his intense hazel eyes.
Such a beautiful man. How in God’s name had he ended up with someone like her
in his life? A man, filthy rich, who happened to have the body of a god,
holding this gawky, too-tall girl in his arms, cradling her as if she weighed
nothing. Sometimes things just made no sense, and even in her short life she’d
learned enough not to question too much. Not to question the good things.
“I want you, Erica,” he said, his kiss hard, possessive.
His hand held her face while his tongue explored her soft mouth, her swollen
lips. Enjoying, claiming.
His.
He pulled back, gazing at her a moment, searching for
something, the last light of the setting sun sparkling within the depths of his
eyes.
Then she saw it, that darkness descending on his gaze like
a cloud passing over a sunny prairie, just a hint of what lay beneath.
“Get up,” he said, a new edge to his voice.
Erica slid off his lap, drawing herself to her full height
before him. She barely suppressed the urge to cover her sex, displayed as she
was before him. It made her feel like a shamefaced little girl. The thought
sent another little surge of moisture between the slick lips of her pussy.
“Take the rest of it off.”
She pulled reluctantly at one arm of the blouse. It was
absurd to think so, standing there in front of him with her naked cunt bared to
his gaze, but even the open blouse provided something. A symbolic protection, a
weird sort of comfort.
“Now.” he barked. “I won’t have you hiding from me, not
ever. Get it off.”
Swallowing, looking over the top of his head, she slipped
the fabric off her shoulders, the blouse whispering to the floor, the lace bra
following suit. Blaine’s eyes roved over her body, his jaw clenching, his
unhurried, assessing gaze making her flush anew.
Erica watched his hand wrap around his cock, stroke slowly
up and down the long, veined shaft. She licked her lips, and tried to kneel,
but he was up and on her in a flash, a hand entwined in her unruly curls. She
stumbled as he dragged her over toward the window once more. Back to all those
watching eyes.
“No, wait —”
“I don’t want to hear you speak that word again, Erica,” he
whispered into her ear. “We need to talk about that again, I see.” He used his
grip on her hair to turn and push her against the window, her cheek laid along
the glass. “But first, I want you.”