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He raised a brow. “Have you ever had a belting?”
“You used your belt at my apartment,” I reminded him.
“This is different. You’ll see.” He moved behind me. Slipping his hands into the elastic of my pants, he dragged them down to my ankles. Then, picking up each foot, he pulled them free. He draped them over the fence a few planks away from me.
Next went my panties, but he didn’t give them the same treatment. He ripped them from my body, dropping the shredded material to the grass at my feet.
“Look at me, Aleksandra.” He ordered, and I turned my face to him, watching him over my arm. My shoulders were getting sore from the position.
His massive hands went to his thick, leather belt. He worked the buckle open, then zipped the belt from the loops. He tucked the metal buckle into his palm, letting the rest of the leather strap dangle from his fist.
“Learn from this. No more running away.” He stepped around me, behind and a little to the left. I turned my face the other way, trying to find him, but the blinding pain caught me off guard as the tip of his belt lashed against my bare ass.
I howled, rising further up on my toes. This wasn’t a spanking.
Another lash landed, then another.
This was a whipping.
I screamed. I twisted, but the ropes dug into my wrists.
Another lash struck, and the belt wrapped slightly around my hip.
“I will bind your feet if you don’t stop wiggling so much.” He threatened as his belt came down harder, this time to the upside of my ass.
“Dmitri!” I bellowed his name until my throat was raw, but I might as well have been begging the birds to help save me. He wouldn’t be done until he was done.
“You enjoy the pain, Aleksandra.” The belt struck my thighs.
I shook my head.
His body pressed against me in the next moment. “Don’t believe me?” His hand slid between us, nails dragging over my raw ass, then glided over my inner thigh. “Your pussy is dripping down your thighs already.”
“See?” He put his hand in front of my face. A few blinks to clear my vision, I saw the evidence. His fingers glistened with my juices.
“It’s not my fault,” I whispered.
He pressed a kiss to my cheek.
“I’m glad the pain makes you wet.” He wiped his hand across my lips. “Your pussy is hungry. Your clit wants to be teased, to be played with.”
He was right. As he pushed into my ass, I felt the length of his erection, and I shoved back at him. I wanted him. Right there, tied to the fence, my ass burning hot, I wanted him to fuck me until my throat split with my screams.
“And that’s where the rest of your punishment comes in,” he whispered into my ear, nipping my earlobe. “Your pussy will starve; your clit will go ignored. There will be no release for you again until I say so.” He shoved off of me, leaving me cold and wanting.
Another lash to my ass. Fog rolled in then, clouding my thoughts, forcing me only to feel the harshness of the leather, the wet trails my juices left on my thighs.
“So good.” His voice seemed to come from far away as he removed the rope from my wrists. “Good girl.” He kissed the marks on my wrist. “No more running away.”
“No. No more.” I lifted my eyes to his. “I promise.”
He studied me for another moment, then grunted. “We will see.” He grabbed my leggings from the fence, then lifted me into a bride's carry.
“Where are you taking me now?” I asked, leaning my head on his chest. I hoped the bedroom. The ache between my legs was worse now that he was so close.
“To the kitchen. You need food. And coffee.”
What I needed was an orgasm. But I wasn’t going to argue.
