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“Grip the headboard.”
Anya does, reaching just above her head to grasp the metal bars. I follow her onto the bed to cinch the rope around each wrist, then tie it to the headboard’s bars, keeping her hands in place. Anya shivers as I trace my fingers down the silky softness of her skin, pausing at her breasts to grope and massage them, kneading them with my palms.
They fit perfectly in my hands, the supple flesh pressing between my fingers as I squeeze them, then find her nipples with the pads of my thumbs so I can roll the hard nubs. A quiet gasp, muffled by her panties, escapes Anya’s lips, and she bites down hard on the fabric in her mouth.
“You like it when I play with your nipples, pet?” I murmur, a smile curling my lips.
She might not know it, but I’m testing her honesty once again. I can see the defiance in her eyes. She wants to tell me no. Instead, she remains completely silent.
“You answer when I ask you a question, little bird,” I growl, pinching her nipples and intensifying the pressure until she cries out, her back arching up off the bed.
“Yrms!” she screams around her panties.
I release her nipples and rock back, my frustration with her welling up inside me as she continues to fight me. Breaking her is proving a challenge I find both intensely frustrating and deeply arousing. But tonight, I want her to know that she’s my property. She doesn’t have the freedom to do as she pleases or go where she wants. She’s mine for as long as I want her, and the more she fights me, the stronger my desire to claim her grows.
Gripping her ankles, I lift Anya’s legs upward so her hips bend, her knees framing her breasts, her thighs spread wide as her toes touch the headboard on either side of her head. Leaning against her exposed pussy, I pin her in place as I deftly wrap the rope around one ankle and tie it to a bar of the headboard, then I follow suit with the other. Sitting up to view my handiwork, I’m impressed by Anya’s flexibility. She makes the intense stretch look easy, though her expression says she’s anything but comfortable about having her ass and pussy on full display.
“Mmm,” I groan, stroking a finger down her slit and over her puckered asshole. “I love this side of you,” I say. “Maybe I’ll just rent this room indefinitely, leave you like this, a living fleshlight I can stuff with my cock whenever I want.” I keep my tone light, musing, and I love the sound of her responding whimper.
Reaching over, I grasp the handle of the flogger and pick it up, then show it to Anya. “You see this, pet? I’m going to use this to make you wish you never lied to me. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll never want another man to even look at you, let alone try to join in on someone else’s scene. You’re mine, Anya, to do with as I please. Not Ilya Popov’s or his little toy.”
Fear makes Anya’s breathing rapid, and the sight of her breasts heaving with anticipation sends a thrill through my body. Shifting to the side of the bed for a better angle, I stroke the flogger’s tassels up her ass crack and over her pussy, tickling her senses. Anya shudders violently, and fresh arousal coats her folds. For someone who likes to pretend she doesn’t want it, she sure does fucking love the way I torture her. And tonight, I’m going to push her to her limits. I want to see just how dirty this girl really is.
Raising the flogger, I bring it down across the back of her thighs, and Anya releases a muffled scream as she jerks against the rope holding her in place.
“You think you can take ten lashes without coming, little slut?” I tease as I run the flogger up her ass crack and over her pussy once again.
Anya sobs in response, and I bring the flogger down again, this time creeping a little higher on her thighs. Even as another cry bursts out around her panties, Anya’s pussy tightens visibly, and her pearly juices start to creep down over her skin. I don’t waste time with another teasing stroke before I bring the flogger down across her ass cheeks, leaving fiery red marks in the leather’s wake.
Anya’s back arches, and her legs quiver, her toes curling from the overstimulation of her punishment.
“Tell me you’re mine, pet. I want to hear you say that you won’t come; you won’t even touch yourself unless I tell you to.”
Anya nods her agreement, but rather than letting up, I bring the flogger down a fourth time, and she squeals.
“I can’t hear you, little slut. What? Are you enjoying your punishment so much that you want me to keep going?” I snap the flogger across her breasts, and angry lines mar her beautiful milky flesh like rose petals over white sheets.
Anya shudders, her eyes fluttering closed, and a deep groan escapes her as I stroke the flogger over her dripping pussy. I know this next stroke will make her come, and I fucking love watching this innocent prima ballerina joining me down in the dungeon of dark sex and depravity. I love owning her body, making her yearn for my punishment.
“Do you want to come, pet?” I purr.
Anya’s breathing is ragged as she opens her eyes to meet mine. She gives a tentative nod. Leaning over her, I press my finger between her lips, and she opens them. Hooking my finger around her undies, I slowly withdraw them from her mouth.
“Then tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” Anya breathes, and a tear escapes her eye to track down over her temple.
Those words light a fire in my soul, and I crush my mouth to hers as I consume her desperately. Then, pulling back, I shift my stance and snap the flogger across her pussy, this time lighter than when I struck her thighs or ass but still with enough force to make her scream.
But even as the pain-filled cry leaves her lips, her pussy starts to twitch, releasing a flood of arousal that trickles down her ass crack like a river. I can’t help myself. Leaning down, I stroke my tongue between her ass cheeks, licking up her tangy juices as I make my way toward her clit. Her orgasm continues to make her pussy twitch even as I wrap my lips around her sensitive nub and suck it into my mouth.
Anya bucks and the headboard groans as her strong dancer’s legs jerk against the rope confining her. A ragged groan tears from her chest, making my balls tighten, and I can’t wait any longer; I need to be inside of her. Standing, I strip my jeans and boxers in one swift move, then climb onto the bed just below her hips.
Fresh pussy juice has trickled from her slit to coat her ass, and gripping the base of my cock, I stroke my tip through the slick viscous and up between her folds, coating myself with as much of her arousal as I can.
“Good pets get fucked here,” I murmur, hooking two fingers inside Anya’s pussy and pressing against her G-spot. “But you’ve been misbehaving, so you don’t get that tonight.”
“No, Nicolo, please,” Anya begs, panic rising in her tone as I line my cockhead up with her asshole.
