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“Cancel sponsor… call… cancel sponsor agreement!”
Her voice replied so quickly I knew my sense of time had gone away. Everything seemed to be happening at once: the apartment’s reply seemed to come out of the hidden speakers at the same time as Christian, leaning back a little, grabbed my left knee and pulled it upward, bending my leg with ease despite my best attempt at resistance.
“Sponsor Christian Guzman has been assigned priority control. Disciplinary measures detected. No threat of imminent harm exists.”
He had the big cuff around my lower thigh, Velcroing it tightly.
“What?” I demanded. “He’s going to… he’s…”
“Apartment,” Christian said, still speaking with utter calmness, “retract headboard right.”
“Oh… no…” I sobbed as I felt the strap pull on the cuff, steadily and very firmly, until the front of my upper thigh came up against the twill of Christian’s shirt. I felt the lacy front panel of my thong slide a little against the part of me that already felt much too warm. The feeling of being opened, despite all my efforts to remain closed, brought a shameful jerk of my hips that I hoped Christian would mistake for more resistance.
“Rebel,” he said in his deep, serene voice as he reached for the second thigh cuff, “you’re just making it worse. This disobedience means I have to spank your pussy before I close you up.”
CHAPTER25
Christian
Leah let out a wrenching sob at the news she had earned more discipline with her defiance. Her whole body trembled under me, and my cock gave a distracting leap against my thigh. The sheer force of my attraction to her seemed to grow stronger with every passing moment.
That lusty, obscene need to fuck my gorgeous rebel got even more urgent the more I felt it compounded by the growing affection and sympathy of my basically tender, if well-guarded, heart. Leah’s obvious struggle to come to terms with her submissive needs almost made me want to surprise her, once I had tied her up properly, with a gentle, loving session of old-fashioned dominant sex, my hardness moving in and out of her sweet, smooth pussy until she screamed and shuddered again and again in helpless pleasure.
That would come someday soon. At the moment, though, leniency with Leah would serve neither of our needs. I had told her the consequences, and she needed to receive them. Indeed, I had not the slightest doubt that she had messaged me and summoned me back precisely because she so desperately yearned for them—if very much despite what she probably still considered her better judgment.
I had the second thigh cuff around her right thigh. I fastened it with the sturdy Velcro, tight enough to make sure it stayed in place. Turning back around to look down into Leah’s wide eyes, I spoke the necessary command.
“Apartment, retract headboard left.”
The expression on Leah’s face as she felt her right knee raise toward her chest made my cock so hard that in my straddling position it began to ache inside my jeans. Her eyes seemed to beg for mercy even as the crease in her brow told me of her arousal. I could have pulled out my phone, if I had wanted, to verify that Selecta’s biometric analysis showed the same thing my eyes so easily perceived, but I had no need: I could see the obvious signs of a submissive young woman’s healthy response to her first bondage.
Even more enchantingly, I had the impression once again that I could see even deeper into my rebel’s heart and mind. I could read one thought, at least, with absolute certainty:This is what it feels like, to belong to a man who understands what I need.
I couldn’t help smiling—really, I didn’t want to keep the pleasure and satisfaction off my face, because I had noticed the effect my smiles could have on Leah. I watched her eyes get even wider as she saw this one, and I felt her hips lift with one of those sweet, involuntary signs of just how badly her pussy needed fucking. Across her face I saw a now-familiar expression flit: the vain hope that I wouldn’t notice the shameful movement, wouldn’t perceive the incontrovertible evidence of this apparently independent young woman’s humiliating craving for cock.
I bent my face down, slowly. Leah’s lips parted as my mouth neared hers, and then she closed them to swallow very hard and very visibly. I kissed her, very gently, as she moved her chin back and forth just a little, a refusal that didn’t actually represent resistance, but rather the wonderful submissive reflex to enjoy the fantasy that she didn’t really want her master’s attentions. Leah in truth yearned for a man’s dominance so strongly it confused and troubled her, and so it helped to shake her head even as I kissed her tenderly and felt her body respond under me.
I broke the kiss, leaving her gasping, and I swung my right knee carefully over her face so that I could climb off the bed. I walked slowly to the foot of it, so that I could look her in the eyes again, her face framed by the charming sight of her spread thighs. Her lace-covered pussy, with the cleft of its pink left just visible through translucent mesh, lay just below in my foreshortened view.
Leah looked back at me, her face working with more emotions and ideas than I could have named, even with what felt like my power to read her mind.
Again, though, I could see one thought prevailing in her lovely green eyes, and I named it for her, to help her along in her learning. Her punishment must take place: her sweet pussy would soon receive the discipline Leah had earned. I knew that talking her through it might not make it easier, but it would certainly make it more valuable in the long run.
“It helps to be restrained, doesn’t it, Rebel?” I asked, putting a very slightly condescending note in my voice. Then I spoke to the controls again. “Apartment, retract headboard.”
* * *
Leah
My jaw went slack as I heard the whirring again, and the straps attached to the thigh cuffs started to pull again. I stared at Christian, trying to put his words together with the pulling of the straps. Were they going to rip me apart? How could that help?
They didn’t rip me apart. They did pull my knees back almost to my chest, curling me and raising my backside so that I felt folded, like a napkin or a towel. It wasn’t painful or even very uncomfortable, but I certainly felt restrained. Much worse, as I looked back at Christian through the vee of my spread thighs, I could see my panties in a way that felt terribly shameful.
Much, much worse, I understood exactly how exposed my pussy had become, how available for the terrifying discipline my keeper had promised. He had his hands in front of him, his left hand rubbing the knuckles of his right as he gazed straight back at me.
I found I couldn’t maintain eye contact, because Christian’s expression held too much fear, and shame, and need, and—worst of all—affection for me. I dropped my own gaze to his hands, and I watched the rhythmic movement of his fingers over each other. Something about the way he moved even that part of his body, his plain, ordinary hands, seemed unbearably sexy. I let out a little whimper as I understood why: those hands… those firm hands… they would deliver my sponsor’s discipline. I felt as if I could almost see him somehowthinkingthrough them, preparing himself both physically and mentally to punish me.
My heart raced at the idea, and I raised my eyes, hoping desperately to find something different, there—some shred of mercy. Instead I saw the little smile I had already come to know so well, but also the resolution I remembered from the first night, the first spanking. When Christian moved, I supposed for an instant he would spring onto the bed and start bringing his hand down between my legs.
