3
Derek
Two days passed in much the same way as that first day at the house. And with every hour that went by, I could feel a knot growing tighter in my stomach.
I was playing a role. I was playing at being me, and it was starting to make my skin crawl. If it had been working for Scar, then I’d chalk it up as small penance for my sins, but she wasn’t satisfied either, even if she hadn’t come out and said it.
I’d never played at being master before. It had never been a game or an act; it was who and what I was. It ran thick and heavy in my blood. But everything I was doing was cautious, carefully planned, and I was always on guard, waiting for signs I was pushing her too far. Always ready to retreat. Ever-ready to back down. Hell, I was turning into a fucking pussy.
She’d been silently provoking me. She’d make eye contact without permission, or scrape her teeth into my skin when I fed her, and I could feel the challenge to my core, but I’d gritted my teeth and ignored it. She wanted a master, and these were things no master would ignore. I knew it and she knew it. And she wanted what should have come from it. But every time I closed my eyes, I could see those fuckers, whips in hand, flaying open her back and using her body. I was terrified that something I did would bring her back there. So, I wasn’t pushing her to her limits, and I wasn’t disciplining her when she pushed mine.
I needed to do something because I couldn’t live like this much longer, and neither could she.
I walked into the room carrying lunch. I’d left her kneeling on the bed with a blindfold on, but the blindfold was off now, dangling from her fingers where they rested on her thigh. She had the good sense to look chagrined, but it wasn’t going to be enough this time. It couldn’t be. Every fiber of my body said this was what she wanted, and it sure as fuck was what I needed.
I placed the tray on the night table and strode across the room to the closet door. Without a care for the door, I rippled the full-length mirror off it and brought it back around the bed to prop it up on the wall four feet away.
A glance at my disobedient pet told me she was aware she’d pushed it too far this time. Her eyes were glued to the floor, her back straight, and her fingers now trembled ever so slightly. Fear? Anticipation? Excitement?—a conglomeration of them all, I imagined.
“Stand up,” I told her in a calm, cool voice that felt as familiar as an old friend.
She was off the bed in a flash and standing in front of me with her eyes fixed on someplace by her feet.
“Take off the nightgown.”
She grabbed the hem and lifted it up, revealing toned thighs, firm stomach and then luscious breasts. I wasn’t oblivious to the way she thrust out her breasts toward me as she yanked the gown off over her head. A tempting distraction, but I’d get to those later.
I sat down at the edge of the bed and watched her, feeling the surge of arousal and adrenaline course through my veins. I drew it out, waiting a minute, and then two to let the anticipation heighten. If I was going to hell for being me, then I was going with a stinging hand and a rock hard cock because there was no way I wanted to stop this now.
“Come here, Pet.” My voice made her jump, but she crossed the two steps between us. “Is there anything you want to say to me?”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
“I don’t believe you are, but you will be. Lay across my lap.”
She moved to the side of me and bent over to comply. Fireworks were already sparking in my brain, and when her tight ass was in position in front of me, I was about ready to blow sky high. I took the time to run a hand over her firm cheeks, drawing out her wait even more. She shivered when I let a finger trail up the cleft between her cheeks, and the sexy little temptress tried to wriggle her ass higher to keep my fingers on her.
My hand actually tingled in anticipation, but the wait was over. I raised it up and brought it down with a loud clap that was like music to my ears. Her body jolted and she whimpered, but she relaxed her muscles in preparation for the next slap almost right away.
I rained down four in quick succession while her pelvis squirmed and writhed against my cock. Her cries, whimpers and moans fell over top of one another, and I had to fight against the urge to flip her onto the bed and drive into her pussy to the hilt. I knew she’d be wet for me. We were a perfect fit because she loved what I did to her, and she was the most intoxicating drug I could imagine. The way she tried to squirm away from my hand while grinding her clit against my thigh; her cries of pain and moans of pleasure—they were my cocaine and I was helplessly addicted.