Page 2 of Obsession

Up, up, up, his hands went, crossing in front of my thighs, his thumbs grazing my feathery pubic hair, fingers gripping me slightly, pulling me toward his mouth.

Black's hands were cupping my breasts, kneading them. He occasionally paused to stroke my nipples, reactivating the pleasant soreness. Between my legs, I could feel the gush of my excitement.

Rhys watched Black's hands on my breasts and put his mouth against my lower belly. His rough beard tickled my mound, and the memory of his face between my legs - his beard scrubbing my inner thighs sensually, his tongue making me scream and twist - surfaced in my mind and threatened to overwhelm me.

He growled into my belly. This was his most dangerous, but thrilling sound. It was partly his pleasure, which thrilled me: I loved to please him. It satisfied me deep, deep inside, and made me melt to a pool of useless excitement.

But Rhys did not lose control of himself, or brush off transgressions like mine. His eyes rose to meet mine, just as Black’s fingers moved over my shoulder, almost like an apology.

“I can’t let your disobedience go unpunished,” he said, moving his chin slowly side-to-side on my belly.

I mewled, because Black’s hand had moved down from my shoulder, along my spine, and was now gently tugging the anal plug from inside me, leaving me empty – not for long – so that when Rhys spanked me with his bare hand, the jeweled plug would not interfere.

Not that he couldn’t spank me with it still in. He had done so once before, driving the plug into me with each smack. I wasn't daring enough to tell him that I had secretly liked that.

Rhys’s hands slid along my legs, cupping my ass, and pulled me toward him. His beard grazed my pussy lips, and he tipped his head before snaking his tongue into my gash, down along the hard spine of my clit, just enough pressure applied to make me yelp in pleasure.

He liked to taste my excitement before he spanked me, and then after. Whatever he found there in my pussy made his mouth move, and I could feel the contours of a smile.

He looked up at me before he moved suddenly, and without knowing how, in a flash and a blur, I was lying stomach down on his lap.

He wasted no time, probably because he was pulsing with his own needs. I could feel his cock against my chest, throbbing with his building desire as he rained hard slaps on the tender skin of my ass. I had not been spanked since the last punishment ritual, so my skin was fresh and healed, but the sharp sting of his touch bit sharply and turned white-hot anyway.

I used to try to hold back my tears, or kick and beg him to stop. But I knew now that these were silly ambitions, in part because Rhys was not a man whocouldbe stopped, and also, I didn’t really, really want him to.

I didn’twantto displease him, but when I did, I felt a rush of pleasure when he spanked me – especially in front of someone, especially Black – and then held me.

And then fucked me.

When he pulled me up to sitting, on his lap, the tears rolled down my cheeks and he brought his lips to the rolling drops, kissing them away. He pushed my hair from my face and kissed my lips. “Are you very sorry for what you’ve done, my little girl?”

A throb of emotion swelled in my chest, an emotion I could never attempt to name, or compare to any other, when he asked me this. I nodded, like I always did, and then he brought his fingers to my chin, his lips hovering close to my mouth. “I want you to say it,” he murmured.

He wanted me to say it, and he wanted me to look him in the eyes when I did. I burned each time with something like humiliation, but only for a brief moment. Only for the few seconds that it took for the tears to fall from my eyes, so that I could see the tender love in his.

“I’m sorry for disobeying you.”

Black, who worked like an extension of Rhys’s body and never needed to be told what to do, what he wanted, took me by the shoulders to make me stand up. My knees were weak and he sensed this, propping me up with his own strength.

Rhys reclined, leaning back on his elbows, his hands back down to my knees, pulling me toward him. I let my eyes fall to his cock. Before, I had been timid to do this, and I looked away as soon as I saw it. But now that I knew - thanks to Black - that Rhys liked to watch me watch him, that he wanted to see my face as I stared at his member and thought about how it would feel inside of me, I let myself indulge in the view and the curiosity. He was erect, so erect that he seemed bigger and thicker, almost like he would burst at the seams.

“Show me that you are very sorry.”

Following the lead of his hands, I lifted one knee to the bed, and then the other, straddling him. Rhys looked up at me - definitely not the way I looked up at him, in submission, but with same dominating gaze that brought me to my knees if it was his wish.

Silently, his eyes told me how things would be, as his hand moved to the small of my back and Black's hands fell away.

Rhys lifted me a little with the hand on my back, pulling me close to his face so that his chin and his beard scraped over my sternum and Black would have a view he said he enjoyed, of my backside, my legs slowly spreading open as Rhys pried them apart with his thighs.

As he did this, my torso sank and the fat head of his cock, damp with precum, bobbed into the wetness of my pussy. He used his other hand to drag his cock through my slit, playing me like an instrument. A smile flickered at the corner of his lips each time I inhaled sharply, when he rubbed the hot flesh of his dick over my clit, or between my outer lips and the swollen nub.

Maybe it didn't seem to make any sense, but I almost came just thinking about what Rhys would do next. By itself, it didn't seem like anything that erotic: in terms of mechanical stimulation, there was not much to it. But the next part is what I would think about when my thoughts returned to him, when I was alone: the way Rhys studied my face intently as he made me sink, ever so slowly, onto his cock.

It was his right to fuck me as much as he wanted to, and Rhys seemed like the kind of man who simply did whatever he wanted.

Because he let his men have me, I figured I was not a personal obsession of his. I stayed away from that thought because it felt like a hot coal when I touched it, and I had decided that it didn't matter to me: Iwantedhis control, and I wanted to please him, and that was as far as I could get with thinking.

Only Rhys would come in my pussy, though. Only Rhys would fill me and stretch me completely, and only Rhys would allow himself to fill my womb with his hot seed. But when he entered me on days like this one, when I had been sent to several men, he did it slowly and sweetly. When his cock found some place where the soreness was intense and lingering, even if I didn't flinch or inhale, he seemed to know, and he went even slower. His hands were on my waist now, gripping me easily and firmly, controlling my descent.

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