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She didn’t fight as I steered her toward the whipping frame. It looked like the cross table, only it was vertical rather than horizontal. Securing her wrists and ankles with the restraints, I stood back and looked at her. She was held in a spread eagle. Her arms out wide, attached to the ends of the crossbar. Her feet set wide, the ankle restraints coming out the side of the bottom of the cross.
The sound resounded through the room as I spanked her hard. Bare hand on ass, a nice, vivid red hand print rising on her pale flesh. I did it again to the other cheek, so they would match. She barely made a noise at the strikes. Her body jerking but only slightly. She was getting used to the pain, which was good.
Spanking her a few more times with my hand I took it up a level, getting a wooden paddle. The strikes were after than with my hand, though made about the same impact, so I move up to the cricket bat. That was more like it. Hard jerks against the restraints and muffled screams. I struck her several times but it still wasn’t enough. She really needed to suffer. To pay for keeping things from me. It was odd to think but I got not pleasure from hurting her like that. It was more of a duty at that point.
I hung the bat back up on its hook and did something I swore I would never do again. I got down the lash. With a flick of my wrist the fearsome thing whipped out to its full length, snapping at the end. I could hear Celeste cry out at the sound.
It was ugly. Much rougher than I’ve ever been before. It might seem like it was hate. That I hated her for lying to me. Or at least keeping something from me. Though that wasn’t it. I was coming to love her and was desperate for things to work. To break her in as my pet by any means that might be needed. It truly was tough love.
I can hear her sobbing through the tape as I release the restraints. The bleeding wasn’t bad and could easily be dealt with. Much worse might have been the emotional damage to both of us. Celeste fell against me and then crumpled to the floor in tears she was trying not to show.
I thought she would hate me. Instead, she got down on her hands and knees in a worship position in front of me.
“You can’t keep anything from me. You must not talk to anyone else. I am taking your phone.”
Head still down, she nodded like a good little pet. I made her look at me and took the tape from her mouth.
“Promise me.”
“Yes, master.”
“Good. I only need one thing. To fuck you in the mouth. I don’t want to hear anything but your gagging, got it?”
She nodded again and opened her mouth wide. Hauling out my already hardening cock, I shoved it all the way into her mouth, slamming it into the back of her throat making her gag hard. Easing up on her, I worked her mouth slowly at first, working my way past her gag reflex and down into her throat. Before long, I had a little more than half of my total length down her throat.
Taking her roughly by the hair, I throat fucked her hard making her gasp and wheeze. I could see tears behind to form in the corner of her eye but still she took it like a trooper, doing her best to open her throat like I’d taught her.
Despite myself, I started to wonder about her past and what made her the way she was. Open yet also guarded, contradictory as that seemed. I had to stop when a terrifying realization struck me. I couldn’t know too much about her past to I’d fall in love with her and never be able to let her go and that just wasn’t how I did things. I decided to just enjoy the moment and fucked her little throat hard and rough while pulling her hair. More tears came but she made no noise aside from gagging. Before long I came, filling her with my cum. I really didn’t think she would be able to swallow it all but she surprised me. Getting down every last drop.
I wanted to hug her or say ‘good girl’ but I wasn’t able to show that kind of affection. Scared I might fall in love right then and there. With her phone in my pocket, I leave, promising myself to send someone to tend to her wounds.
Curiosity wasn’t as bad as some let on. For me at least. It was after all how I had made most of my money. By asking questions no one thought to ask and then doing things others didn’t dare. The phone wasn’t hard to hack. It had gone to lock-screen between the bedroom and the office and the onscreen keypad glowed like a challenge. There weren’t very many people who actually set their code as 1 2 3 4 because it seemed so stupid. Which was exactly why it was such an effective passcode. No one thinks it actually exists. Celeste and I were clearly of similar thought patterns.
