What fresh hell is this? Why can't I bring myself to say it?
Pride. My pride won't let me, even as the pain becomes almost unbearable. I lose count of the strikes, my world narrowing only to the burning agony across my backside and thighs.
I’m feeling lightheaded from the position, and scalding tears run into my hairline. My nose is running, and I know I’m a hot mess, sobbing and begging and blubbering, knees buckling, legs trembling, ass on fire.
It’s only my Sir who is keeping me upright, and my own stubbornness.
Suddenly, it stops. I'm gasping for air, my face wet with tears and snot. His hand rests on my lower back, surprisingly gentle.
"Stand up," he orders, his voice surprising in its softness.
I’m not sure I can. I think I’m going to collapse in a heap on the floor. Unclasping one hand from around my ankle, I swipe the back of my hand over my mouth and nose, knowing it will do little to diminish the wreck I am.
With his help, I straighten, wincing and whimpering pathetically as the movement pulls at my abused flesh. My legs are shaking so badly I'm still not sure they'll support me, but he steadies me with a firm grasp on my arm.
"Look at me," he commands.
I raise my teary eyes to meet his, expecting to see anger or disappointment. Instead, there's a hint of approval in his gaze that makes my stomach flutter.
"You took that well," he says. "But next time, you'll obey immediately. Understood?"
I nod quickly. "Yes, Sir. I understand." My voice warbles, and a hiccup escapes.
Then, much to my surprise, he cups my face in hands that are almost tender. "Good girl," he murmurs. “You look so gorgeous like this.”
I do? Man needs his eyes tested. I know I’m not a pretty crier. But I don’t have the time to think anything else before he possesses my lips in a bruising kiss. His tongue invades my mouth, demanding and possessive. I mewl against his lips, my body responding, leaning into him eagerly despite the lingering hurt. His hands roam my nakedness, squeezing and kneading as if to soothe the welts he just inflicted.
I melt into his embrace, craving his touch even as my mind reels from the whiplash of his shifting moods. One moment he's punishing me brutally, the next he's praising and caressing me. It's dizzying, and I find myself clinging to him for stability.
He breaks the kiss, leaving me gasping. “Get on the bed," he growls, giving me a gentle push. "On your back, legs spread."
I comply immediately, not daring to hesitate this time. The mattress might be form-adjusting memory foam, and the sheets might be expensive Egyptian cotton, but neither alleviates the pain in my ass - the literal one, not the figurative one - as my tender skin ignites once more when I position myself until I’m wantonly splayed out for his viewing pleasure. My cheeks burn with a mixture of shame and arousal as his hungry leer rakes over me.
He sheds his clothes efficiently, revealing his muscular form. His body is superb, just as I expected. I stifle a gasp at the glimpse of his erect cock, remembering how it felt inside me earlier. A shiver of anticipation runs through me as he approaches the bed. Despite the stinging bite of my punishment, I can feel heat pooling between my thighs. What's wrong with me? I should be terrified, not aroused.
He kneels on the bed between my spread legs, his hands skimming up my inner thighs. I bite my lip to stifle a moan as his fingers brush teasingly close to my center.
"So wet already," he murmurs, a note of approval in his voice. "Such an eager little slut."
I want to protest, to deny it, but my body betrays me. My hips buck involuntarily as he slides a finger through my folds.
"Please," I whimper, though I'm not sure if I'm begging him to stop or continue.
He smirks, clearly enjoying my conflicted response. "Please what, pet? Use your words."
But it's no good, I can't voice my confused desires.
He quirks an eyebrow. "If you can't ask for what you want, I'll have to decide for you," he warns. “I never did get dessert…”
Without further preamble, he dives between my legs, his tongue lapping eagerly at my folds. I gasp and arch off thebed, overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of sensation on my already oversensitive sex. His mouth is relentless, licking and sucking all those sensitized areas.
I writhe beneath him, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. My hands fist in the sheets as the orgasm builds rapidly, coiling tight in my core. He slides two fingers inside me, curling them expertly as his tongue focuses on my clit.
"Oh god," I moan, unable to hold back the sounds of my climax. My hips buck against his face of their own accord.
He growls approvingly, the vibrations sending shockwaves through me. I'm climbing higher and higher, racing towards the peak. Just as I'm about to topple over the edge, he pulls back suddenly.
I whine at the loss, my body aching for release. "Please," I beg shamelessly. "Please, I need..."
