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“Take a breath,” he said, slapping my face to catch my attention. When I crooned behind the gag, he did it again, a little smile curving the edges of his lips. “Everything’s okay. You can’t get away, right? Just take the pain, let it empty you out so there’s more room for my cock.” As he gazed at me, he spanked the four sore welts that throbbed in the center of my ass cheeks. I danced on my toes, mewling in protest, but I kept my eyes on his, because his expression was so warm, so beautiful and challenging.
“You’re my brave girl, aren’t you?”
I nodded, hoping he wouldn’t slap my face again, but kind of wanting him to slap me again. He spanked my ass instead, several hard smacks in succession as I wailed against the gag. The spanking was a different kind of pain from the caning, but still hot and cruel on my sore butt. He kissed my face, my nose and eyes, his lips coming away wet with tears. “You’re a beautiful crier,” he said, making me look at him. “We’re almost done, baby. Can you take four more?”
I didn’t think I could. I had no answer to give him, just the frantic tensing of my muscles.
“Okay,” he murmured. “We’ll see.”
The next stroke landed near the curve of my ass. I grasped the cuffs holding my hands and squealed behind the gag. It hurt so badly. Pure sadism, no pleasure. I understood that he needed that kind of sadism to get off, so I let my tears flow as the last three strokes came. I wailed and struggled, forgetting the biting pain at my clit and nipples because my ass hurt so, so bad.
He put down the cane after the last stroke and held me around the waist, kissing me, poking his cock against the hairpin on my clit, making it throb in concert with my wrecked ass. My butt cheeks felt like they were exploding, the heat and pain was so agonizing. He spanked each one again, hard and fast, to make things worse, or maybe to help diffuse the pain over a greater surface. Everything hurt. Everything felt squeezed and stung and punished by him.
After he watched me cry another moment, he eased the hairpin off my clit. I was so wet, it slid off easily, but it left plenty of sensitivity behind. “Poor baby,” Milo said, stroking the swollen button. “That was so mean. We’ll leave your clit alone the next few days, yes? So it can get better?” He laughed at my whine of protest. “And I’ll only fuck your ass, since your clit’s out of commission. Maybe we’ll go anal-only for a whole month.”
I gave him my most forlorn look, but my pussy pulsed at the picture his crass words painted. Anal-only would hurt. It would be dirty and naughty, the perfect way for a sadist Dom to torment his submissive.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll still let you come, if you can learn to do it from assfucking alone.”
As I moaned, he took the hairpins off my nipples. He squeezed and licked my breasts where they jutted from my bra, blowing hot air across them. My nipples were still hard, still ready for more abuse. He pinched them as he teased my clit some more, sliding his cock between my legs. I was still in pain, yes, but I was getting hot as hell at the same time. I moved my hips forward and whined behind the gag.
He reached above me to release my arms. “I told you, Alice, I’m not fucking your pussy tonight. Your ass is so red and striped. It makes your asshole a much more inviting target.”
The first thing I did when my hands were free was reach behind me to rub my sore butt, even though it was forbidden. Milo pushed them away from the throbbing welts. “No. If you want to do something with those hands, hold your ass cheeks open so I can lube you up. Or would you rather forgo lubrication?”
I made a frantic sound of denial, and he grabbed the bottle, liberally greasing my asshole. I could feel just from the pressure of his fingertips how tight I was, probably from the pain of my caning. He shoved a couple fingers in anyway, pushing the lube deep, making me squirm and moan behind the gag as he stretched me open.
When he was done, he guided me down onto my hands and knees, with my ankles still braced wide by the bar. It was an incredibly exposing position, especially knowing that Milo was behind me, preparing to invade my ass. He didn’t make me wait for it to happen. Holding my hip with one hand, and his cock with the other, he probed my tight hole.
I was supposed to be submissive to him, and I tried, but I couldn’t stay perfectly still as he pushed into me. I tensed and moved my ass to one side, but he made a scolding sound and pressed a little deeper. Now it really hurt. We had anal on a pretty frequent basis, so I was learning to deal with his size, but I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the aching stretch and feeling of lost control at the beginning.
“Oh, please,” I whispered, even though the gag made it impossible for him to hear me. “Please stop hurting.”
As always, just when I thought I couldn’t bear the pressure a moment longer, my muscles relaxed enough to let him slide in. It went from an ache to a deep, shivering surrender, and the deeper he entered, the more subjugated I felt. My legs strained and spread wider, and my back arched to let him drive deeper. He growled in approval, holding the tails of his tie so the gag dug into the sides of my mouth.
“Unh, unh, unh.” I made desperate sounds, arousal taking over any civilized words. He arched over me from behind, taking my ass, thrusting steadily inside me. His fingers found the tips of my breasts and tugged on my sore nipples, reviving that pain, but making it more exciting. I was glad for the generous lube when he started pounding me faster, shoving me forward until I collapsed, legs spread, arms splayed to the sides. He grabbed my wrists and held me so I was pinned down completely, unable to escape.
I don’t want to escape, though. I never want to escape.
His thrusting hips banged into my welted butt cheeks, another layer of masochistic sensation that had me speeding toward orgasm. I hadn’t developed the ability to come yet from anal alone, but if I tilted my hips, I could grind my pussy against the floor, enough that my clit would send me over the edge. His hand moved from my nipples to my neck, squeezing, taking the last layer of my control, my own breath.
“Oh God,” I cried against the sodden tie in my mouth.
“I’m fucking you, baby. You’re all mine. Do I feel good in your ass?”
“Yes, Sir.Ow.” I tried to squirm away from his grip, tried to get the words out past the gag. “I want to come.”
As distorted as my plea was, he understood it from my desperation. “You have to come with me in your ass, Alice, and my hand on your throat. I control you. I own you. You’re mine.”
With every squeeze of his fingers, my ass clenched tighter. His own breath hissed out behind my ear. He was driving me against the floor, causing my splayed legs to tense with each thrust. I wasn’t me anymore, I washisbody,hisvessel. He loved me and I loved him.You’re mine.How many years had I dreamed of him saying that? I’d known it would be this way, a violent, passionate possession, not the polite love of other boyfriends.
Milo was more than a boyfriend. He was my soul.
The lust and fear inside me transformed into the edge of an orgasm, and my swollen clit sliding against the floor gave me the rest of the impetus I needed. I started to climax, my legs trembling and pulling in their bonds, my ass arching as I contracted around his pounding length. He collapsed over top of me, driving deep, his fingers nearly choking me in the process. The edges of my vision went black and I turned my head, whining. He released my neck and hugged my shoulders instead as he came in me with hard thrusts.
He went still on top of me, post-orgasm. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hair tickling my cheek. “That was too hard.”
“No,” I said through the gag. He removed it for me, so I could take unobstructed breaths. I wiggled my tongue and said it again. “No, it wasn’t too hard. I loved it.”
