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“A little rule-breaking there…”
Whack!
“Who’s the Master in this relationship?”
Whack!
My pleas rose in volume as I tried to cross my legs.
“That’s right. It’s me. And who’s my devoted slave girl, who wears my collar and is supposed to obey me and respect me in all things?”
I was crying so hard, I had to be soaking the blindfold. It was me. I was his devoted slave girl, and what he said was true. Since we’d been married, I’d been pushing boundaries little by little, mainly just to figure out where they were.
Now I knew where they were.
Whack! Whack! Whack!
I was wailing so hard behind the tape, I thought his goons could probably hear it, even if they were headed back to the city by now. My wails said I’m sorry, and Please! Please stop!
I heard the strap dropped on the floor, felt him rise off the bed. I let my legs drop, gingerly. My ass burned like an inferno, so tender and wrecked that it hurt to brush it against the sheets. I curled up instead, listening to a drawer slide. Pants or jeans unbuttoned, a zipper pulled down.
He returned and grabbed my legs again, extending them upwards. The bed dipped with his weight, as rough fingers parted my ass cheeks and pushed lube into my hole.
“It would have been easier if they’d tied you face down, but I can fuck you this way, too.” He added another finger, pushing the lube deep. “I can fuck you any way and any time I want, can’t I?”
He wedged his knees beneath me as he lifted and spread me, and grasped my thighs in a commanding grip. He began pushing his cock into my clenching asshole, the lube easing his way even as my muscles resisted. He was so big, and with my body bent, my legs up in the air…
“Ow. Please! Owww.”
Behind the tape, my begging was nothing but a disembodied howl. He thrust deeper, taking up a punishing rhythm. The pain of his initial invasion gave way to the dull ache of being fucked hard in the ass while I was absolutely helpless to resist or squirm away.
“Do you remember now who’s in charge of you?”
I gave a muffled sob and nodded, picturing his face, although I couldn’t see it. It would be stern and composed as he pushed inside me, taking me, disciplining me. My ass was hot and sore and unbearably full.
Still, I was dripping wet from this treatment, this whole kidnapping roleplay. I knew I was wet enough for him to notice as he played with my legs, pressing them apart. His hips bucked against my ass cheeks, hurting the welts he’d left there.
I hate you. I hate you for doing this. I’m not getting turned on.
But I was. He started to toy with my breasts, which meant hurting them and scratching my nipples between pinches.
“You’re a bad girl,” he crooned, pushing into me. “Bad girls get treated this way. Bad girls get their asses fucked hard and rough, because they deserve it.”
I shook my head, but I agreed with it, every word he said. Bad girls fell in love with bad boys who did bad, bad things, like stage an actual felony crime and have foreign strangers tie them to a bed. Then they spanked them with excruciating thoroughness and fucked their asses while their legs flailed helplessly in the air.
“This is going to teach you,” he said, his words half a groan. “This is going to teach you a lesson.” He held one of my legs and leaned with the other hand to give me a stinging slap to the cheek. My pussy clenched. He knew just how I liked it.
I knew how he liked it, too. His hand dropped to my neck, fingers over my pulse, squeezing, squeezing. I blacked out and came back and his hand was still there, massaging just above my windpipe. His cock was still buried in my anal channel, impaling me. I shook my head. Please. I can’t breathe. Please. I love you.
It was like I could feel each muscle in his fingers, each vein in his cock. He slid in deep, bucking against me, hurting me, owning me. The desire in me exploded, my juicy pussy pulsing in waves of ecstasy. I didn’t think anyone in the world came like this, the way he made me come. No one else could understand that line where pain and chaos became unadulterated joy. My ass contracted, squeezing around the shaft inside it.
“You’re coming? You little—” He sounded both exasperated and proud, and let go of my neck to press rough fingers against my clit as I bucked through an orgasm that seemed to last a minute and a half. “You nasty little slut. You dirty whore.”
His hoarse words triggered another wave of orgasm, and I cried out behind the tape. This time he came too, pushing deep inside me, abandoning my clit and lifting me so he could drive all the way into my ass. I welcomed the brutal invasion. I was so far gone I basked in it and nearly begged for more. But then I stopped myself, because I couldn’t take more, and I couldn’t beg anyway with tape over my fucking mouth.
Good God, I hated him so much for what he’d done to me. Hated and loved him, and loved the feel of him inside me. I shuddered through post-orgasmic pulses as my legs trembled in his grip.
He had no words for me now, no poetry to whisper in my ear, just halting breaths as both of us gasped in the aftermath of…whatever had just happened. Whatever it was, it had been wrong and fucked up. He’d had people kidnap me, terrify me, tie me up and blindfold and gag me. All of this was wrong and criminal and…
