AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Kafka came at her again only minutes after that first explosion. He began to slap her breasts, gently at first and then harder. The pain built, so did the accompanying pleasure. She wanted more of this, she wanted the pain. Only that vibrant, hard-hitting pain would take the hurt and worry from her mind. Only the pain could send her endorphins rushing and bring on a wave of physical joy that might keep her sane another few hours.
Almost as if he understood this, Kafka turned her over and began slapping her ass, biting her ass cheeks and fingering her asshole—so far the only orifice not stuffed with cock that day. She knew what he was about now, and begged for it.
“Yes, yes, do it! Take my ass! Slap it hard! I want to hurt, I want to hurt, I want to hurt!” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
He did not need her commands to cause her pain, but they bolstered his desire. “Oh, you will get your pain, bitch. You’ll get your beatings. You’ll get your ass reamed until you’re screaming for the rape to stop.”
“Then do it! Do it now, goddammit!” she vented into the steamy sex-charged air. In the midst of her begging, his fingers were going deeper, penetrating her harder, making space for his cock. The only lubricant he used for her ass, he drew from her sopping cunt hole. Enough perhaps to lubricate the passage, or maybe not. It would have to do, for neither one was willing or capable of waiting longer.
He plunged and she lurched forward, crying still. But she pulled back to her hands and knees, taunting him with her ass as he thrust and thrust again. The springs beneath them squealed, the bed groaning as if it were about to break.
“Yes, yes, do it!” she kept saying over and over.
He grabbed her hair and bending over her back he seethed in her ear: “You have no idea, slut, what you will face. You like it hard, that’s good, because that is how we intend to use the Marquis’ slut.”
He banged his hips against hers repeatedly, his thrusting cock hitting hard inside her pussy; so hard that she felt hollowed out and opened up so wide that the whole world could see the lust inside her. They could see who she was by the ecstatic expression on her face and know that in her heart she was made for this kind of abuse.
Coming was almost secondary to the fucking. When the moment exploded on them, he held her mauled ass cheeks and pumped her ass full of himself, a surprising amount, considering that he’d just come minutes before.
Again they collapsed exhausted into the sweaty mattress, but this time, they didn’t rise again. They both slept for awhile, in fact, Laney slept the night, but by morning Kafka was gone and she was alone again.
***
“Out of bed, bitch,” Kafka swept into the room and began spanking her naked ass, which happened to be pointed in his direction.
Laney was quickly roused from sleep, the restraints removed and she was led back to the cottage.
“Everything changes today,” her captor announced as the two moved into the big kitchen. The others, including Ivana were there—Ivana more subdued than she’d previously been and hanging back in a corner, obviously wary of the man in charge after what had happened the day before.
Wasting no time, Kafka shoved Laney to a table, where she was bent over and tied down, starting with her hands, which were pulled straight out in front of her and roped to the far side of the table. A small padded bench was placed in front of her knees where she was to kneel, her legs then tightly bound to the table legs. More rope was used to tether her midsection to the table, so that once the bondage was complete, she could barely move a muscle and could hardly squirm.
“What in God’s name are you doing!” her panic finally made her blurt out, as she briefly struggled with the ropes.
“I said you would be marked. Now’s the time.”
“Marked? Marked how?” She remembered something about a marking—but that was not a physical marking that had been promised.
“Shut up, Mrs. Priestly. This is out of your hands. The Marquis will not ever forget who he is dealing with.” She’d turned her head and could see a happy sneer on his handsome face.
The mark was not a brand as Laney initially feared, but a tattoo placed directly above the brand, above Erik’s EP. The positioning of the mark was apparently intended to trump the bold sign of her submission and she felt terribly despondent that the previous marking would no longer stand alone as a sign of her submission to her husband.
At least a half hour went by as the tall fellow worked on his art with painstaking precision. Whatever design seemed to be complicated, although any attempts to learn what that design was were made in vain. With her panic not completely abating, she finally blurted out. “Please won’t you let me know what you’re doing? Kafka, please!”
&nbs
p; “I said, shut up!” Kafka stopped the procedure immediately and gave her a hard spanking with the palm of his hand that lasted at least sixty seconds. By the time he was done, her ass was hot and stinging, and tears were forming in her eyes. He could have gagged her for crying out, and she was thankful he didn’t. She kept quiet until the ordeal was finally over.
Afterwards, she felt a tightness in the skin and a throbbing heat in this new wound.
“Put a bandage over the thing for now,” Kafka ordered. “She has other things to do tonight.”
Laney was returned to the shed for several hours where she rested. A cuff had been placed around her wrist, its attaching chain fixed to the bedrail. It was thankfully not the more stringent bondage of her previous days, but it was good enough to keep her there. During that time, any pain in the area of the tattoo dwindled until what remained was a little discomfort, not much different than a sunburn. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see the tattoo, for it was too high on her ass.
Later in the afternoon, Ivana came to the shed and led Laney back into the cottage. Once again in the kitchen, she stood in a washtub full of warm water and was bathed from head to toe.
“Damn good thing you’re doing that, Ivana, she was starting to stink,” Kafka chuckled as he was passing through the room.
The blonde washed her carefully, which Laney in no way resisted. She’d begun to smell her own putrid body stench and was more than grateful for the opportunity to feel clean again. Ivana’s warm hands tenderly caressed her, as if she were recalling those brief sexual moments together the previous day. When Laney closed her eyes, she could smell the scent of her womanliness as a combination of fresh country air and her floral scented perfume. She drank her in, relishing that fragrant, womanly aroma, while knowing that she’d likely not get the chance to act on her renewed feelings of lust. Sadly, Ivana’s artful fingers didn’t take the risk of deliberately playing with Laney’s roused cunt. She used a washcloth in that area, being afraid of Kafka’s wrath should she make the activity an erotic one.
