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Then he tenderly stroked my neck, and leaned down, kissing my nape and then licking the back of my neck, tracing his tongue all the way to my earlobe. He nibbled on it, and god help me, but my hips rolled. He chuckled deeply and I felt it inside his body. “Anna, you are mine, and if you need to play these games, I am all too happy to accommodate.”
“Not a game Omar!” I wailed. “I really was upset and I really didn’t feel for sex.”
“Was?” He whispered at my ear, “Your body seems to be betraying you goddess.” His finger delved partially into my now swollen entrance. He made that sound, and his hardness jumped under my chest. In a husky, full of need voice he said to my ear, “You are my whore, and I will pleasure you as I see fit. Never forget that.”
I was still over his lap and I struggled to move. He didn’t allow it, and again pinned me down with a big hand between my shoulder blades. He continued to rub my once milky behind that now felt as if it were on fire. He grabbed it hard, digging in his fingers and I wiggled and made a sound of protest. I felt his internal chuckle just before he began spanking me again.
“Count,” He ordered.
Part of me felt violated and I let that part take over. With indignation I said as loudly as I could, “No!”
He spanked me so hard I screamed and gave getting away from him, a really good effort. It amounted to nothing more than ten more spanks, which I counted in my head, but refused to say out loud. “You. Are. A. Brat!” He said the words with each of the following four spanks. Then he leaned back to my ear, “I can discipline you all day long Anna. Do you not feel my appreciation? Now you will count!”
I didn’t want to admit that I’d truly given in and was now past the point of return. What he was doing to me was so incredibly narcotic I had no reference whatsoever for how my body was reacting to this kind of pain. I was so aroused I could feel my pussy dripping with wet need, and I wondered if I could orgasm from just being spanked. It seemed illogical to me, but what my body was doing was irrefutable.
Omar was enjoying my obnoxious behavior way more than he should have; his cock was flag pole erect under my sternum, and I only hoped he didn’t discover how much I was now into this game. So, I continued on with the charades, “No!”
“You could be more original than to continue repeating that!’ He crunched his torso and his lips grazed against my bare bottom.
Oh dear, there are those teeth. Oh god, oh god, oh god. “Omar!”
“You are mine Anna. I will make my marks on your body. I know you are my kind, you are my ideal and my counterpart and as much as I love to give you this kind of pain,” He bit my bottom really hard before continuing on after my wails of protest, “I now know you like it. Your body has betrayed you Anna; you are enjoying this as much as I. Do not protest! I will only bite you harder. If you refuse to count or obey me, I will take delight in your continued punishment.”
“But, but, but …”
“You will take it little girl, and you will like it. You are spoiled and need discipline!”
Much to my chagrin, I know he is right. No wonder I’d been uninterested in boys before. The descriptive word, boys, is reason enough. Omar is a man, and I hate it that he is right about me, but I think he is. I won’t admit it out loud though. Never admit it.
More spanks, more wetness coats around the softest of my pink folds. I still didn’t count though, but I couldn’t help moaning as my earlier question was answered with a resounding; YES! You can orgasm from just being spanked!
“Ahhh, Goddess, indeed you are meant for me.” He said as he pulled me up to sit across his lap. I felt my lubrication soak into his pants leg and I lowered my eyes. “I will fuck you now, here, now, and you will not protest. When I command it, you will again cum for me, and then you will thank me for dispersing your hormonal mood.”
My chin quivered but I set my jaw, “Omar, I—I…” I wanted to protest and assert my rights. I didn’t want to surrender or submit to him, at least part of me wanted to stamp my foot and hold onto my need to be emotional.
He lifted one eyebrow, “Do you need more spanking to remind you who your new master is?” I shook my head and pouted. He pushed a button and barked orders, and the car slowed and then turned. “I am messing you up. We are going home.” I met his eyes, “Anna, I need to enter you this instant, and I plan on leaving you useless. Today you will meet my inner sadist, and rest assured, you will please me immensely.”
I didn’t really understand what he meant, but at the same time, his words caused my body to clench and pulse in anticipation. My clit throbbed and my entire skin flushed pink. I had a moment of realization that this kind of thing was how he and I would creatively keep our sex life fresh, and the simple thought that he would guarantee I would please him, relieved some of the weight I’d been carrying.
When I’d been with Yasmin earlier, and away from Omar, my mind had been flooded with numerous doubts that I was right for this world. That I was going to adapt to being a queen in a foreign land, married to a dark skin male that expected total, unquestioning obedience at all times. I was also unsure how I could maintain the arousal or his interest in me now that he’d taken my virginity and taken me in almost every way im
aginable. I’d even had a thought that he would grow increasingly bored with me, and then I would be discarded.
All of it had been juvenile thoughts, and mostly the unfounded fears of an inexperienced, little girl, as he’d so succinctly stated. His words though, his undeniable statement that he would find me pleasing, that did it. I lifted my eyes, meeting his, and I weakly nodded. My chin still quivered, and a random tear trickled down my face.
“And?” He asked.
I don’t know how I knew what he expected, but I did. In a very tiny voice, sounding more the disciplined little girl than I cared to admit, I mumbled, “Yes Master.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Omar pushed me onto the leather seat and slid down onto the floor, on his knees. He reached and pushed a button and every window went three shades darker, offering us more privacy. The car silently purred along, the motion now becoming something erotic.
Omar turned back to me, still on his knees and he hastily stripped off all but his slacks. Then he set his attentions on me and what I was wearing. His grip was assured and confident as he expertly unhooked my garters. My white lace panties were soon to hit the floor, but he left my thigh highs in place, caressing first down my leg, and then back up. The shoes remained as well.
I didn’t help him; I only sat there, watching his intent gaze and the muscles in his arms and torso as he stabilized himself in the moving vehicle. He spread my knees and the skirt slid up another notch. He made that sound when he glimpsed my shiny folds.
He growled, “You were a good girl to shave for me. Very good girl.”
