Authors: Natasha Knight
“The ginger will cause a burning sensation from the inside. It will hurt but you may find it pleasurable. If you clench, however, the sting will become more intense. I plan to whip you tonight and I want your buttocks soft and unclenched for the punishment.”
He was going to whip her, just as she wanted but feared.
“Bear down, Gabrielle. Put your face on the bed and bear down.”
Could this be more humiliating? She laid the side of her face on the bed and pushed, feeling the ginger slide in as she did so. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant at first; in fact, when it was all the way inside and he released it, she worked her muscles around the cool intrusion and she knew if she reached back and touched her clit, she'd come.
But after a few moments, she knew exactly why he was using the root. She wiggled her bottom, clenching and relaxing alternately as the burn settled inside her.
“It's working,” Julian said. She cast her eyes in his direction. He was wiping his hands on a towel that he then tossed on the bed.
He sat down and, without ceremony, grabbed her ankle and pulled her flat onto the bed before sliding her onto his lap, face down. He shifted his position so she had to place her hands on the floor. With one hand, he spread her cheeks apart and touched the root.
She tightened and he smacked her ass hard. “You will remain still while I look at you. In fact,” he shifted her so that her torso was supported again. “Reach back and spread yourself open for me.”
She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut, but reached back all the same, and pulled her cheeks apart.
“Good girl,” he said, running his fingers over her pussy. “I like looking at you, Gabrielle.” He pressed one hand against the base of the root.
“One more thing you should know before we begin,” he said, this time rubbing her swollen clit so she couldn't help but moan and press herself into his hand. “If you come without permission, I will whip your ass raw.”
With that, he slapped her bottom hard and pushed her back over his legs so her palms rested on the floor. Then, it began.
He wasn't gentle and he wasn't slow. He spanked her hard, his big hand flattening her buttocks in turn, reddening her bottom and the backs of her thighs. She clenched once, then twice, but the ginger lodged inside her reminded her quickly to soften, to take the blows, to take her punishment. She tried not to struggle but it was impossible.
“Stop kicking,” he said, punctuating each word with a stroke.
But he didn't give her any time to adjust. Instead, he trapped her legs between his, concentrating the blows on one buttock, repeatedly striking the same spot until she was begging him to stop. He switched to the other one and when he moved to her thighs, she was mumbling incoherently.
“Gabrielle,” he said, finally stopping with the blows.
He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head backward.
“Ah!” She tried to take her hands off the floor but quickly replaced them, needing to support herself.
“Gabrielle?” he asked again, yanking a little harder and adding a sharp slap to her thigh.
“Yes. Yes, Sir.”
“Tell me why you're being punished.” He spanked again and something inside her rebelled.
“No!” She fought with everything she had to get free of him “Let me go!”
He tugged once more before releasing her hair and holding her bent body tightly to his.
“Tell me why you're being punished,” he said, forcing her to be still.
She tensed her body; she burned inside and out. “Take it out, please,” she begged. “Please, I'll be still, I won't clench, I promise, Sir.” If she could be free of the ginger, she could do this. She was sure of it.
He released her and she slid to the floor.
“Knees.”
She wiped her face and moved to her knees between his legs. She shifted her weight, her body ultra-sensitive.
“Look at me,” he said, taking her chin in his hands and forcing her to look up.
She covered her face.
“Look at me.”
She peeled her hands away and wrapped them around his, needing him.
“Why are you being punished, Gabrielle?”
When she still couldn’t answer him, he pushed her hands away. “We're not even close, are we? Stand up.”
It was as if she were mute. She wanted to tell him why—she knew why. She didn't want to disappoint him. And she surely didn't want him to stop. But some part of her wouldn't let the words go.
Her legs worked and she did as he said. He too rose to his feet.
“I have lots more in mind for you. That was your warm up. Thank me.”
“Thank you, Sir,” she whispered, dropping her gaze to the ground.
“Turn around,” he said, unbuckling his belt.
She eyed the worn black leather before turning, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Walk close enough to the wall so that you can place your hands against it for support. I want you bent over, legs wide.”
She moved slowly, her hands trembling as they found their place on the cool stone. She leaned forward, walking backward to get the right distance, presenting her bottom to him.
“Wider,” he said, and she felt the toe of his shoe tap her naked feet.
She spread wider and looked over her shoulder when she heard the swoosh of the belt being pulled from its loops.
He doubled it over in his hand, making sure the buckle was safely in his palm. When he moved to the side of her, she panicked but held her position. She was unable to stop the “Julian,” that escaped her lips however and the first blow landed in response.
The sound of leather colliding with soft flesh filled the room. “Ah!” She danced from foot to foot when the pain registered, spreading, the hot center moving outward over her skin.
“What was that for?” he asked. Before she had a chance to answer, he delivered a second one just beneath the first.
“Oh, no, no, no, please!” she begged, straightening and covering her buttocks with her hands. She pressed her back to the wall.
“Turn around, Gabrielle. This is going to happen. Take your punishment.”
She rubbed her buttocks and groaned. He waited. Some part of her told her to turn around, to do as he said because he was right. She needed to take her punishment.
“I'm sorry,” she said, meeting his gaze. He didn't react and she turned slowly back to resume her position.
The belt whistled through the air and struck her above the first stroke.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please what?” The belt struck again.
She let out a groan and clenched her fists, pounding one into the wall. “More.”
“Good girl,” he said, landing two more blows before tossing the belt onto the bed. “Reach back and spread your ass open,” he said.
Was it finished? She looked over her shoulder while reaching back and as if she'd asked the question aloud, he grinned.
“It's not over, not by a long shot. I'm just getting warmed up. Face forward. Every time you turn around from now on, you'll get five additional strokes.”
She turned quickly to face the wall. He moved behind her and she felt his hand on the base of the root he'd carved. She knew to push and in a moment, she was free of the plug, but the sting remained. She let go of her buttocks when he stepped away.
“I don’t think I said for you to let go,” he called out over his shoulder. She heard the ginger land with a clank in the trash container. She reached back and resumed her earlier position while listening to the water run in the bathroom. Her bottom throbbed and stung inside and out and her face burned as red as she was sure her ass looked.
He came back into the room and she heard him digging inside the bag again and wondered what he would torture her with now. She couldn't help but turn to see what he was looking for.
“That’s five more,” he said, drinking from a bottle of water. “Stand up.” He opened a second bottle and held it out for her. She took it, realizing how thirsty she was.
“Thank you.”
He watched her drink and when the bottle was empty, he tossed it into the trash can and gathered the pillows from the beneath the blankets. He stacked them at the foot of the bed and picked up his belt.
“Over you go,” he said, doubling up the belt again.
“How many, Sir?” she asked.
“Don’t know yet, you can count it out so we keep track.”
“It hurts,” she said, rubbing her buttocks.
“I imagine it does. Five more for lack of proper address. Be careful, Gabrielle.”
She bent her torso over the bed, her hips raised high by the pillows.
“Arms over your head. If you squirm or clench, I've got a second ginger root carved and ready to go. This one's not as short as the first.”
She raised her arms over her head and it began immediately.
She exhaled, or rather the force of the stroke pushed the breath from her lungs and she fisted handfuls of the comforter. “One,” she said.
The second one landed, then a third and fourth and she counted each one.
“Tell me why you deserve this punishment, Gabrielle.”
“Six, yes, Sir. Seven… oh God.” Why was this so hard?
“Why?” Three licks of the belt followed and her knees buckled beneath her but she managed to hold her position.
“Because I, eight… I… nine, ten… I broke my promise.”
“And what did that do?”
He was focused on her thighs now and although she tried to be still, she rocked from foot to foot, her hips swaying from side to side.
“I hurt William,” she said, tears making her face sticky wet. “I hurt our families.”
“What else. Who else did you hurt, Gabrielle?”
She'd lost track of the count but was very aware of her throbbing thighs and ass. The sting of the ginger was long forgotten. It was nothing compared to the pain she was feeling now.
“Who, Gabrielle?”
“Me!” she bawled into the blankets and her body stilled while he continued lashing her. “Me. I ruined everything. I thought I'd just figured something out, you know? About myself.”
She heard the belt buckle land against the tile floor. She was sobbing, her legs weak, her entire body on fire. “I'm sorry,” she said, turning to find him rolling a condom over his very hard, very thick cock.
She moaned when he lifted her higher onto the bed so her legs hung off the end but her weight was supported.
“Legs wide,” he demanded.
Her pussy throbbed, wanting to be filled, and she obeyed. He pressed his cock against her buttocks while his fingernails scratched her too tender flesh before spreading her cheeks apart. Two fingers slid easily into her pussy as she responded. But that wasn't where she needed him. It was something she couldn’t make sense of yet, but she needed one final thing from him.
And she trusted that Julian would know exactly what that thing was.
Sliding his cock deep into her pussy, he rubbed her asshole with her own juices until the passage opened to him. She moaned when he positioned the head of his cock at her anus.
He fisted a handful of hair and yanked her head backward. He pressed his cock against her asshole and she pushed against him, wanting him there.
“Is this what you wanted, Gabrielle? Is this what William couldn't give you? What your lover couldn't give you?”
He thrust and she tensed, calling out in pain, but Julian didn't stop. He took inches and retreated, pumping slowly before he thrust hard again. She gripped the comforter and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Yes!”
“You wanted to be dominated but your husband couldn't handle it.”
He thrust again, “Please!” she begged.
“He couldn't handle you. Neither could your lover.”
She only wept.
He drove home on the next thrust and she stilled when he lowered his torso over hers, his mouth at her ear.
“Are you ready to forgive yourself yet, Gabrielle?” he asked, pulling out half way and thrusting in again.
“Yes,” she whispered, lifting her hips to his, tears now silently rolling down her face.
The fingers of his free hand found her clit and she moaned. Everything was confused: pain, pleasure, humiliation, tenderness. He withdrew his cock slowly and repeated several more times. She inhaled a long, deep breath. The sensation was intoxicating, satisfying and she closed her eyes. “Fuck me,” she said. “Hard. Fuck my ass hard.”
“I plan to,” he said. With that, he began pumping hard and fast and her first orgasm came on like a tidal wave. She convulsed under him but he didn't let up with either his hand or his cock as he fucked her harder and deeper, filling her completely. She climaxed over and over, thinking she couldn't take one more second when she felt the twitch of his cock and he stilled deep inside her ass, his fingers closing tight around her clit sending her over the edge one last time.
She would have crumpled to the floor when he slid out of her but he caught and lifted her into his arms. She had no tears left, exhausted from her punishment, her confession, her fucking. She'd never felt so empty before, so light, so free. She closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest. When he cradled her head, she brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it.
Chapter Eight
Julian loaded Gabrielle's bag into the trunk of her car as she stood back watching. It was almost noon. She would be flying to Amsterdam later today and would be there for the week on business before going home. Although sad to say goodbye, she also felt good. She felt lighter, if that was the right word.
He closed the trunk and turned to her. They looked at each other for a few moments.
“If you're ever in Florida…” she began.
He reached into his pocket and withdrew an envelope.
“What's that?” she asked when he held it out for her.
“It's an invitation.”
“What sort of invitation?” she asked, taking it. She was just about to open it when he put his hand over hers and stopped her.
“No, not for now. I want you to be clear on something first.”
She nodded, her expression growing serious.
“I like you, Gabrielle. No, that's not all.” He ran a hand through his hair and for the first time this weekend, he looked unsure. “My feelings for you are more than that.” He wrapped his hands over her upper arms, holding her tightly. “It's natural for you to feel very close to me, at least right at first. You might even feel depressed for a while. Given what we've done together, I expect you feel some attachment to me now, and what I want is for you to have some space before you open that envelope. Wait a few weeks and process everything. Be honest with yourself and if you find you may have feelings for me, well, then open it.”