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Rhys pushed the cover away from my body and pulled open the robe. His eyes were on his own fingers as he traced over my left nipple, and then moved over to the right. When he touched my right nipple, I sucked in my breath: Tor had bitten gently into it, over and over again, while he bounced me by the hips on his cock.
Rhys’s eyes flew up to meet mine. “Did someone mishandle you?”
I shook my head. I always shook my head when he did this, this inspection of me when I was returned to him. His hands moved over my body, feeling my skin for welts, touching my pussy to see how much I craved release, feeling the insides of me to see what had been done to my body. Asking me if anyone had hurt me. I never said yes – not because it wasn’t true, I did sometimes get a little hurt – because no one ever did it on purpose. Not even Tor. And the truth was, I liked it. I wanted it. I almost felt like I needed it.
Rhys continued moving his hands over my body, down to my pussy, which he felt inside and out. My limbs twitched when he touched my clitoris, and my mouth fell open a little when he slipped two fingers inside of me, gently fucking. His touch was feathery at first, and then more insistent, and I mewled.
I tried to read his face as he did this, each time. I didn’t know what he was thinking, what he wanted, what he expected. Usually, he made me stand in the center of the room, and he peeled away my robe and left me there, naked, as he moved around me, asking what I had done, what I had been asked to do, and then: if I had disobeyed him.
His fingers traveled down, trailing the cum and juices from my pussy to my thighs, moving down to my knees, pausing there. He pushed gently on the center of my knee and I mewled again. His eyes met mine.
There was no need to ask a question.
“Tor,” I said quietly. “He likes me on my knees.”
Rhys brushed his thumb over my knee, his face serious. He was making a note of it, but what he would do with that information, I didn’t know.
“It didn’t hurt,” I squeaked, not wanting to get Tor in trouble without knowing how it would play out. I couldn’t make sense of many of the things that Tor said, but I had the impression that if I told Rhys something Rhys didn’t like, and it got back to Tor, I would be the one to pay in the end. “At the time,” I added.
Rhys said nothing, just continued on his journey over my body. After reaching my feet, he worked his way back up, then stretched a hand to the back of my neck and pulled me up to sitting. The robe slipped from my shoulders and he helped it down, until it was at my wrists. My hands were both on the bed, behind me, holding me up. Rhys twisted the robe and it drew my hands together, forming a bond around them, held together by his strength. This also forced me closer to him, my face inches from his, his stare slicing through me.
I wanted to look away, always: Rhys’s eyes were so powerful, they seemed to bore through me, and paralyze me, and strike me full of fear, all while my blood boiled and my pussy throbbed.
He used his free hand to turn my head, pushing gently on my chin, first left, then right. And then he twisted his hand in the robe fabric, and suddenly I was going, whether I wanted to or not, to face-first on the bed. He twisted the robe around my hands once I was on my stomach, and my hands were trapped at the small of my back.
He moved his hands over my back, then on to my ass, stopping for a length massage of the sore skin that he had whipped and spanked recently. He played with the ball of the butt plug, pushing it in a slow circle so that the fat phallus inside of me moved in a circle as well, pressing on all the tender patches inside of me.
“Is it true that you are exhausted?” he asked me, as I pushed my hips up a little to keep his hand on my ass. He drew his thumb down the crack of my bottom, over my taint, to my pussy, and dipped slowly and methodically into it.
I squirmed, and my eyes watered up, because I knew that he was going to discover the truth – I was going to tell him – and I would be spanked again. This wasn’t something I was afraid of, or even tried that hard to avoid ordinarily, but today it would just be too much.
“You seem a littletooexhausted for a girl who got fucked all day, and never came,” he continued, his hands moving over my body again. His lips touched my back, making their way up to my neck while he spoke: “Did you disobey me?”
His voice had a quality that was both fearsome and tender, making me both afraid and ashamed to answer the question, and yet confident that I must.
“I didn’t want to,” I said, my voice cracking a little. Tears welled up in my eyes and threatened to spill over. “I tried not to, I promise… I just… I couldn’t...”
“Shhhh,” Rhys said, rubbing my ass with his hand.
“Please don’t spank me,” I said, turning my head to look at him. The tear spilled from my eyes as I did. I tried to roll onto my back, but my tied hands made it hard, and I didn’t want to lie down on them. “I didn’t mean to.”
I implored him with my eyes, even though there was not much point to doing that. Rhys was not the kind of man to be moved by this sort of emotional appeal, and yet I felt like I had to try. “I’m so sore,” I said, trying a different tack. “I swear I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t stop myself.”
Rhys pushed my shoulder so that I fell onto my back, with my arms pinned behind me. He let me roll to get as comfortable as possible. I closed my eyes to squeeze out the tears.
Rhys looked at me for a long time, his hands moving over my body.
Then he surprised me.
“Who were you with when this happened?” he asked, returning his gaze to meet mine.
He had never, ever asked me this. I had lost control of myself many times, and I had admitted to them each time, but Rhys had never been interested in this information – only in turning me over his knee and spanking me for disobeying him.
His eyes were now burning through me, but Tor’s words were still ringing loudly in my ears. I didn’t know if Tor was right or not, but his ideas actually seemed to make the most sense. And if I was going to be carted off by one of these men, I didn’t want that man to be unhappy with me.
I vacillated for so long that Rhys’s face turned dark. He touched my lips with his fingers, gently, but now it seemed sinister.
“I don’t… I don’t…,” I stammered. His finger was already to my lips by the time I finished saying “remember.”
