“Yes,” I hissed. “The mighty Andy Morgan, hurting like my little bitch. You ought to see the state of your fucking ass, Andy. It’s fucking beautiful.”
“Fuck you,” he spat. “Is that all you’ve got? I could take this all fucking night long.”
The jerk of his body as I picked up pace told me otherwise. I whacked his ass every which fucking way until my arm ached and Andy was panting.
“You think you can lord it around like the big fucking I am, and I’m just going to shut my pretty mouth and play nice? I’m not your fucking servant, Andy. I do whatIfucking want. Things are going to change around here, partner.”
The flesh of his ass cheeks was rigid, hardening into welts under the skin.
“Does it hurt, pretty boy?” I said. “Tell me how it fucking feels.”
“No,” he lied.
“No?!” I reached for the cane, and swished it before his eyes. “You want more? Is that what you’re fucking telling me?” I tapped the cane on his shoulder blades and he winced at that.
Bravado is such a bitch. The stupid, proud asshole just couldn’t bring himself to give in.
“You’ll have to try harder to break me, Faye, you’re not even fucking close.”
I ran the tip of the cane down his back. “Why do you have to push it so far?” I whispered. “Am I really so unforgivable?”
I raised the cane high, aiming right for the heart of his bruised flesh, and brought it down so hard it stung my hand. The chain rattled as he strained in his cuffs, and his legs buckled, shaking. I didn’t give him chance to recover before I landed another. It was savage and cruel, but I didn’t fucking care. I wanted him to hurt. I wanted to hear his pain. I wanted to see him squirm and twitch and writhe for me. I wanted him to beg. I swung the cane and hit him again.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You sadistic fucking bitch, Faye.”
“Tell me how it fucking hurts, pretty boy.” I landed a fourth strike diagonally across the first three, and ridged welts turned purple as pooled blood threatened to break through, and Christ it looked delicious. “Tell me how much it hurts! Tell me!”
His whole body leapt forward at the fifth strike. The cane drew blood, just a little, but enough to give me tingles in the pit of my stomach. I clenched my thighs, and my pussy throbbed so hard it fucking ached. “Fuck yes, you’re fucking bleeding, pretty boy,” I groaned and squeezed his skin, coaxing every drop from the welt. He let out a gasp as my tongue swept over the wound. “Your blood takes so fucking sweet,” I said. “Tell me how much it hurts, or I’m going in for seconds.”
He remained silent. Not even a fucking groan of pain to ease the fire in my belly.
I reached under him and grabbed hold of his cock. Despite the pain he was almost fully hard, swelling in my grip as I yanked him.
“Why won’t you give me a fucking break?” I asked “I jumped through every fucking hoop you threw at me… without hesitation, without question. I put myself on the fucking line for you, Andy, to make up for what I did.”
“My heart fucking bleeds for you,” he said. “You want a fucking medal for doing the fucking banking? Hit me, Faye, just fucking hit me and shut your stupid fucking mouth.”
I threw the cane aside and took the strap from the case. “One of us is going to break first,” I said, trailing the leather over his battered skin. “Just tell me it hurts, and I’ll fucking stop, Andy.”
I leaned over him, my body pressed to his back to hold him in position. It was perfect leverage, the perfect angle to hit him hard.
I didn’t count how many he took. I didn’t even care. There was only the thrill of his body beneath me, a thrill that made my clit throb ever so sweetly. I rested my cheek against his clammy shoulder, soaking up his pain as he grunted and jerked beneath me.
“Tell me it hurts, pretty boy,” I whispered. “Tell me you’re fucking sorry.”
He didn’t utter a word, letting out only a long low growl as the strap curled around his thigh.
“I spent three years of my life kneeling before a man who wouldn’t bend for me,” I breathed. “Don’t think I’m about to do the same again. I left that weak pathetic Faye in Italy, Andy, and no matter how hard you fucking push me she’s never coming back. I’m not going to break for a man who won’t show me the same courtesy, not ever fucking again.”
I dropped the strap and caught my breath, my chest rising in unison with his underneath me and I felt so fucking horny.
“I’m done,” I said. “Done with your shit, done withhisshit, done with everything. I’m here for my fifty, and I’m not going anywhere. You’ll have to fucking deal with it.”
“This isn’t even fucking about me, is it? What the hell happened to you out there, Faye? What’s with the crazy fucking bloodlust?” He strained his head to meet my eyes. “I think it’s about time you started fucking talking.”
“You’re in no position to tell me what it’s time for.” He flinched as I ran my fingers across the welts on his ass. “I like you like this, you know. We could work like this.”
“Don’t count on that,” he snapped. “This isn’t how I fucking play.”