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"Your punishment," he says, just before he lifts his palm and strikes me again. On and on the rhythm builds, stinging smacks of his palm in between sensual caresses. Even the smacks are making me hotter, more aroused, as if there's a direct connection between my ass and my clit. I grind shamelessly against his knee in between spanks. I brush my chest against the bed, blind but for the need to climax.
"There can be bad spankings," he says thoughtfully, this time fingering between my legs so delicately I whimper for more pleasure. "And there can be good spankings. Punishment and pleasure is so closely entwined." He spanks me again, and even though it's every bit as forceful as it was before, it doesn't hurt as much, as if I'm numbing to the pain in my need to reach what I need to. I moan and rock against his knee.
"Come," he orders. "Relax and allow it to take you." I freeze, but another swift spank brings me back to the need to climax. I do what he says. I breathe in, then exhale, and allow my pleasure to come. His hand glides over my ass, up and down, just before one final spank sends me soaring into bliss. I writhe and moan against his knee. He's still spanking me as I come, my breathing ragged and hoarse, my groans filling the room. He isn't even touching me there but for his knee pressed up against my throbbing sex. I come apart. I grip the bed sheets, screaming as pleasure ricochets through my body. When I finally hit my peak, when I finally come down from my climax, my body goes numb.
I'm completely depleted.
He lifts me like I'm a rag doll and positions me in the bed. In my post-ecstasy bliss, I'm aware of him stripping, gripping his cock in his hand and pumping it while he watches me, naked and rent with pleasure, my limbs splayed uselessly around me.
"Which spanking do you prefer, little one?" he asks, but so softly it's as if he's speaking to himself. "When I punish you or pleasure you?"
Pleasure me, my mind responds, but I'm unable to speak.
"The choice will be yours," he says, his eyes going half-lidded. My gaze roams to his swollen cock in his fist. Legs planted apart, he jerks himself harder and faster, his fiery eyes meeting mine in a dare to do anything but allow this to happen. He could fuck me right now. I'm boneless and spent, and he's twice my size. He could easily overpower me, and plunge his cock in me. But he doesn't. Instead, he chooses to stroke himself to completion standing over me, like he's marking his territory.
I know when he's about to come by the way his deep groan fills the room and his head rolls back, then his body jerks as his come splashes on my naked belly. It's so erotic, so raw, so animalistic, a strange sense of pleasure shivers through me. And when he's done, when he's finally sated, his eyes meet mine in savage honesty.
For one brief second... in the quiet stillness... I see the man behind the mask he wears.
I blink, and the moment is gone.
"Clean up," he grates out in a hoarse whisper. He jerks his head to the bathroom, turning away from me as if the sight of me disgusts him.
Just seconds ago, I felt alive and beautiful, but now I feel dirty and used.
His come drips down my body and legs as I walk to the bathroom. I quicken my steps, needing to rid myself of him. To clean myself. My hands trembling, I reach for a washcloth and quickly lather it up, cleaning myself as best as I can. When I return to the room, he's dressed in boxers and a t-shirt, his back to me.
"Back on the bed," he orders, the cuffs already in hand.
In confused silence, I obey. I lay back down and offer my wrists to him. I try to look in his eyes again, but he won't meet my gaze. His jaw set in a grim line of determination, he fastens the cuffs, then reaches to remove the plug. I close my eyes. It’s so invasive but weirdly erotic, I can’t look at him. When he’s done, he throws a blanket over me, and leaves the room.
Something happened there but I have no idea what it was. I groan when he shuts the door, leaving me to stew in my misery and confusion.
Will he send the video to my father?
If he does, will anyone come?
Or perhaps I really am an expendable plaything.
To all of them.Chapter 7Maksym
I leave her in the bedroom alone after removing the plug and cuffs and giving her a blanket. I've given her strict orders to stay in bed, and I'm confident after what she's been through today, she might actually do as she's told. She'll sleep now. Eventually, I will. But after what we did, I'm not tired but more energized than before. I pace the library back and forth, trying to exorcise the memories of my Taya from my mind, but I can't.
