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I stilled and he roughly gripped the collar of the dress.
His dark eyes stared into mine and that fear that I had felt before returned with a vengeance. My mouth went dry and I couldn’t think of how to react as he took the neckline of my dress and pulled it apart roughly. The sound of tearing fabric seemed noisy and I froze as he ripped the bodice down the front, causing the cord that held the corset together to fray into shreds. The steel boning against my ribs relaxed and in one horrible moment, it fell to the floor in tatters. I curled my arms around my chest, feeling the loss of the support from the corset. My skirt was next as he used his raw strength to rip it apart, tossing it to the floor along with the top of the dress. I was left in only the chemise and the petticoat, but those didn’t last very long either. The fabric of the underclothes was thin and gave way under his brutality as though it was simply a piece of paper that he was tearing in two. He knocked my hands out of the way in the process and I was left feeling vulnerable and unsure.
In no time at all, I stood on the stage naked, plugged and freshly spanked. I didn’t even move to cover myself because I knew that he wouldn’t let me. I was on display for him and his court.
He grabbed me and pulled me close, pressing my back against his chest as his palm curled around my throat.
“The court can see all of you, can’t they, baby girl?” he said so the crowd could hear.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I said while trembling in his arms. With his other hand, he caressed my belly, edging up until he found my right nipple. He took it between his fingers, lightly twisting it into a hard peak and then he did the same to the other. After that, he pinched each one hard enough to make me cry out as pain blossomed across my breasts. At the same time though, a jolt of arousal rushed straight down to my core and left me trembling with need. He held me so possessively that I couldn’t help myself from sighing as he toyed with my sore nipples while presenting me so shamefully to the crowd.
He reached between my legs after that, spreading my folds wide and showing the court what I didn’t want them to see. He traced a single finger on top of my needy bud, before he showed that to the crowd too.
“Such a needy little clit and so very hard for me. Your pretty little pussy is soaking wet, baby girl,” he said loudly, and I shivered as my face went red.
A servant walked up with a thick-looking strap in his hands. The chef scurried next to the servant with a covered silver platter. The king beckoned them both up onto the stage and the two men climbed up and placed the items they had brought onto the table behind us. I tried to look back, but Matteo held me still by my neck, squeezing gently as he reminded me that he was in charge and I was not.
Once the servant and the chef left the stage, the king pushed me away and took me by the back of the neck, forcibly making me move where he wanted me. He directed me to the table and bent me over the back of it. He kicked my feet wider and pressed down on my lower back, ensuring that my pussy and sore plugged bottom hole were on display for all to see.
I moaned wit
h mortification. It didn’t matter.
I turned my head, watching as he picked up the strap from the table. It looked heavy and well-oiled and I shuddered as I imagined what it would feel like against my bare and already sore backside.
I didn’t have to wait long.
Carefully, he laid it on my back and the soft feeling of the hide was comforting. It wouldn’t hurt that much if it was that soft, right? He caressed my naked skin for a long moment, taking care to dip his hands gently between my thighs. I arched into his movements, wanting to feel his touch there more than ever.
My pussy throbbed hard the instant his fingers drifted against my folds. I could feel my slickness against his fingers, and I groaned, biting my lip hard as rampant desire raced through me like bolt of lightning.
I desperately wanted to come.
Then he spanked my pussy hard, catching me completely off-guard. The pain between my legs was sharper and more intense that I had been ready for and the strangled sound that escaped my lips gave away just how much it had hurt. He repeated the motion two more times and I moaned as I leaned on the table for support. My legs felt like jelly.
He lifted the strap off my back next and I dug my fingernails into the table, trying to prepare myself for what was to come. The strap flicked against my naked bottom for the first time, light and tentative and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I could do this. I just had to survive a little longer.
The next lick of the strap was a little harder. I took a nervous breath and leaned my body into the table, lifting my bottom just a hair and that’s when the strapping started to change.
It became a thrashing.
The strap licked against my nakedness surprisingly hard, and the fiery blossom of pain across my bottom was incredibly hard to take. It was a line of fire far more intense than his palm had been and I cried out, digging my nails even deeper into the wood beneath me.
In no time at all, I went from feeling put together and on top of the world to a naked little girl who needed to be punished. I tried to keep still, but it was so very hard. The lash burned into my bottom again and again until the only thing I could focus on was its terrible deep sting. I whined and cried, and still the lash didn’t stop.
At once, my tears returned unbidden. I pressed my palms flat against the table and then my cheek, trying to rein in the control I had so utterly lost and failing completely. There was no way, not with the strap biting into my bottom over and over. It was agony and I had no choice but to take every last one.
I pleaded my apologies and begged for forgiveness and still the strap lashed against my thighs. I crumpled over the table and sobbed, awash in the burning ache that encapsulated the entirety of my backside.
I cried hard. There was no hiding this from anyone. The court and the king would hear me and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
His hand pressed against my lower back and I calmed because of it, holding onto that feeling as though it were a lifeline. His thumb traced against my skin, back and forth and even in its simplicity, it soothed me.
“Such a bright red little bottom,” he observed quietly. “Are you sore, baby girl?” I sniffed back the additional tears that threatened to fall.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I whimpered, meaning every last word. I was awash in pain, yet despite it all, my pussy throbbed with need and I feared how wet I was for everyone to see. The king traced his fingertips along the arousal on my thighs and I moaned with shame, realizing how much wetter I was than I had originally thought.
