I set my glass down with more force than necessary and stride over to her. She tenses as she hears my approach, turning to face me with wary eyes.
"Sir?" she asks, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Without a word, I grab her wrist and pull her into the bedroom. Once inside, I waste no time in stripping her out of that tantalizing uniform. My hands shake a little as I undo the buttons, and I curse inwardly at my lack of control.
Finally, Juno stands before me, naked and trembling. I drink her in, my eyes roaming over every curve and dip of her body.She's exquisite, and out of the blue, I'm hit by a possessive urge so strong it nearly takes my breath away.
"On the bed," I command in a voice rough with desire.
Juno obeys without hesitation, climbing onto the mattress and positioning herself on her hands and knees. She’s learned well and seeing her so willing and submissive should be enough to banish these confusing thoughts from my mind. But as I approach the bed, I find myself hesitating, wondering why I suddenly feel conflicted, and that just fuels my annoyance.
I shake my head. I need to focus on the task at hand, on reclaiming my control over both Juno and myself. I climb onto the bed behind her, running my hands over the smooth expanse of her back. She shivers at my touch, and I feel a surge of satisfaction.
I don’t bother undressing. Instead, I reach around and grasp her nipples in a brutal pinch.
Juno yelps, her body tensing. I’ve been going too easy on her. It’s time that changed. Twisting the tight nubs harder, I relish her whimper of pain. This is what I need; to reassert my dominance and lose myself in the physical sensations.
"You're mine to do what I like with," I remind her, pressing my clothed body against her bare skin. "Don't forget that."
But even as I say the words, I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince - me or her. I release her and grab a nasty set of alligator clamps from the tray beside the bed.
Attaching them to Juno's already abused buds, I savor her sharp cries. The metal teeth bite into her sensitive flesh, but I’m not done. Feeling particularly vicious, I add a chain and a weight to each clamp, dropping them without care so she screams, her body jerking in response.
I swat away my qualms; they don’t belong here.
"This is what you're here for," I remind her, my voice harsh. "To please me; to take whatever I dish out."
Or maybe I’m reminding myself.
Making sure she’s positioned so the weights swing freely, I choose my most savage flogger. This one doesn’t give a nice, thuddy massage. The falls are thin and whippy.
I crack the flogger through the air, watching Juno flinch at the sound. Her body tenses in anticipation as I bring it down across her back, leaving angry red welts in its wake. Her cries bounce off the walls as she twists her fingers in the sheets.
The familiar rush of power courses through me as I rain down blows, alternating between her back, ass, and thighs. The weights on her nipple clamps swing wildly with each impact, amplifying her agony. Her cries turn to sobs, but I don't let up.
This is what I wanted, isn't it? To use her, to hurt her, to glory in my domination of her. So why does every stroke of the flogger feel hollow? Why does her suffering fail to satisfy me the way it used to?
I grit my teeth, swinging harder. Juno's body jerks and trembles beneath me. I can see the moment she starts to drift into subspace, her eyes glazing over as she retreats into herself. It should please me, knowing I've pushed her to this point. Instead, I feel a twinge of... something.
Regret? Impossible.
Annoyed, I throw the flogger aside, my breath heaving as I stare down at Juno's marked body. What am I doing? This isn't giving me the satisfaction I crave. If anything, it's making me feel worse.
I gently remove the nipple clamps, wincing at her whimper of pain as blood rushes back to the abused flesh. My hand trembles as I stroke her back, feeling the raised welts left by the flogger. I know I’ve gone too hard on her, and I hate myself for it.
"Shh, it's over," I whisper, ignoring the tenderness in my voice. "You did well."
Gradually she focuses her glazed eyes on me. There's confusion in her expression, and something else I can't quite identify. Gratitude? Affection? The thought makes my gut churn uncomfortably.
I help her lie down, positioning her on her stomach to avoid putting pressure on her welts. As I grab some lotion to soothe her skin, it occurs to me how small and vulnerable she looks. It stirs something protective in me, an emotion I neither want nor understand.
It unnerves me all the more.
Perhaps I should just send her home now… except I know I won’t. I crave her too much.
I run my hands down her sides, feeling the tremors running through her. Fingering her sex, I'm not surprised to feel how wet she is. Despite her fear, her body responds to mine. Or perhaps because of it.
I push two fingers inside her, pumping them in and out, but all the while hyper aware of her comfort.
