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I let out a pitiful sob as to my amazement I clenched hard at the thought of being made to tidy up. My mouth twisted to the side as I tried to keep myself just from begging for the release he had denied me. But if I said yes… he wouldn’t give me that release for days, would he? And if I said no, I could play with myself as soon as I had kicked him out of my apartment, couldn’t I?
Terror filled me, to my amazement, at the thought of ending the sponsor agreement again, certainly for the final time. If I said no, Christian would never return no matter how I begged. Nor did I want that, really—not the slightest bit.
But another fear, the crawling fear of the punishment, the shameful training—even of tidying up my apartment—seemed to balance on the opposite end of the scale.
The remaining rational part of my brain tried to convince me yet again that I had begun to lose my mind, but the rest of me knew with absolute assurance that in fact Christian had simply laid out the two paths actually before me. Both of them held fear, but adults sometimes have to make that kind of choice.
I looked up at him, my brow creasing hard and my inner cheek between my teeth. Christian looked back at me, the warmth in his eyes making my decision for me, it felt like. He raised his eyebrows, encouraging me to say it—to figure out how Imustsay it, as a sort of first lesson of the rest of my submissive life.
My mind went back to the night he had taken me in hand the first time—only six nights before, but somehow on the opposite side of a chasm that had opened in my life. Or maybe that night actuallywasthe chasm… the darkness into which I had fallen, and then tried to get back out of, only to find that I belonged in the abyss… that the abyss seemed dark but actually held a realm of wonder and of joy and…
Love. You are absolutely falling in love with him.
Six nights ago, when I had lain over the back of my couch, Christian had made me ask for my punishment, just as he had just done here in my bedroom, strapped down to my bed. He hadn’t made me say it, then: he had let me request my first pussy spanking by reaching back and spreading my thighs to show him where I needed discipline.
Now, though, he demanded more. I knew I had to use words—terrible words. Looking up at him, still chewing on the inside of my cheek, I wanted to protest like the petulant little girl I seemed to have inside me still. I wanted to say that I had reinstated the sponsor agreement—hadn’t I?—and didn’t that mean that I accepted his brutal domination? Why did he have to hear the words?
But I knew why. If I wanted this to be about more than sheer kinky pleasure, I had to grow. I had to give up the stumbling and the path of least resistance. This gorgeous billionaire wanted to take care of me—but only if I could show that I deserved his attention as more than a fuck toy.
“Please…” I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest. “Sir… please spank my pussy.”
Christian smiled, and raised his hand from between my spread thighs. I felt a flush of heat in my cheeks as I noticed how his fingers glistened in the dim light coming from the bathroom, shamefully slick with my wanton need. My eyes went to the rigid shaft he held in his other hand, watching the hypnotic rhythm of his self-pleasure, his all-too-obvious enjoyment of the correction he would administer to the naughty bed girl he had purchased.
I would be more than a fuck toy, yes, but I would also remain just that, and I would receive the harsh training suitable for a wayward, disobedient fuck toy when she displeases her keeper. The thought made me cry out in desperate arousal, made my hips jerk upward as if to meet the violent downward movement of Christian’s hand, before he even began to bring it down.
Then he did bring it down, with a resounding slap that had a humiliating wetness to it as well. When he lifted the hand again, it dripped with my need. I whimpered, and raised my eyes to his face, to see that he had fixed his attention downward, an expression of careful assessment on his brow. He brought the hand down again. My whole body shuddered and the whimper became a sob as the pain began to cut through the arousal and the lingering pleasure.
He spanked me, and spanked me, and spanked me. By the fifth swat I had begun to writhe, trying to twist my thighs and move my backside so urgently that I wondered if I might break the headboard. Selecta, however, obviously knew what they were doing when they built these special apartments for wealthy men to fuck and to discipline their bed girls: the straps that held my thighs raised and spread didn’t give a millimeter. When I managed to squirm to the side a little, Christian didn’t even reprimand me; he simply kept aiming his hand precisely and spanking my pussy hard and fast.
The wetness between my legs dried up, replaced by tears flowing down my cheeks. I started to scream, hardly even thinking about the other associate members who must be able to hear me, who must know that I had disobeyed and was now receiving what I deserved.
“Please… please… sir… stop… please…” I begged, half-meaningless words escaping my mouth among the screams and sobs. I could tell that Christian meant to take me to some precise point of pain and shame, but I had no idea where it might lie. His face seemed so calm and so controlled—such a contrast with the wildness that went through my heart and mind and body with every spank. He so clearly knew exactly what he was doing that his eyes, all on their own, seemed to send me spinning into space.
I looked down again, at the steady cadence of his left hand on his huge, hard penis. The idea that he took pleasure from giving me my painful lesson suddenly seemed not monstrous but just. He had the stiff, menacing thing that I needed inside me so very badly—even through the pain he had brought to the very same place where I ached for him to fill me. He knew how to guide me back to the pleasure he had bestowed when he had taken my virginity. Masturbating had helped, I supposed, but it had also just made me want Christian’s dominant training more.
I felt my body relax into that idea: the wisdom of this man’s actions, even when he had to hurt me in order to get the best from me. My screams turned into moaning sobs, and I felt my hips start to lift toward each spank, rather than away.
Christian stopped spanking me. I raised my eyes again to find him looking straight back at me, his gaze a little narrow, the tiny smile on his lips. I understood that I had had it right; he had known just what point he wanted to take me to. I had reached it: a strange glow of submissive pride filled my chest despite the lingering sting between my legs.
“Good girl,” he said quietly. “Time to close you up.”
CHAPTER28
Christian
Leah watched with wide eyes as I got the adhesive from the toy cabinet in her headboard. She looked almost unbearably sexy restrained by the webbing straps, her ruined panties around her thigh and her lacy bra making her little breasts seem like luscious peaches, gift wrapped for her master. I found myself having to slow my hand on my rock-hard cock so that I wouldn’t get too close to coming: I had very specific plans for how I would reach climax tonight, once I had finished teaching my rebel this essential lesson.
I held the little plastic vial with the red stripe around its middle up so that Leah could see.
“This is the adhesive,” I told her. “It doesn’t hurt. All you’re going to feel is a little tugging as I pull your outer pussy lips together.”
I studied her face: she had a deep crease in her brow, and she had begun to chew on her lower lip. Unscrewing the top of the bottle, I carefully drew it out, along with the brush attached to it, whose black tip glistened with Selecta’s special super glue.
“The brush lets me apply it precisely,” I said, seeing her brows knit a little more as she took in my words. “So that nothing gets stuck that isn’t supposed to get stuck.”
Leah sucked her lips in between her teeth. A bit to my surprise and very much to my delight, she gave a quick nod.
“There’s another bottle in the cabinet, with a green stripe around it,” I continued. “That’s what I’ll use to open you back up, on Friday.”
