12
Julia
Desire hummed through her veins, electrifying every nerve-ending until she felt like a live-wire about to snap. Punishments had always done this to her, for as long as she could remember. And Owen had proved to be a master at doling out punishment.
Even the humiliating words he’d heaped on her in that sweet, coaxing voice while he’d fucked her mouth had gone straight to her clit until her panties were soaked through and her pussy throbbed with each beat of her heart.
And now she was spread out for him, naked and trembling as he finished securing her wrists and ankles to the posts of his bed.
“Beautiful.” The word was a whisper, caressing her very being in an almost painful mimicry of his fingers brushing across her skin.
A denial trembled on her tongue, but at the last minute she clamped her lips shut, sealing it in. Why shouldn’t she believe him? She was at his mercy until her sentence ran out, so why would he give her compliments if he didn’t truly believe them?
And if all they had together was this weekend, then she wouldn’t tarnish it by arguing with him over petty things.
“Thank you, sir.”
“And so polite, too. I wonder how long that will last.” A grin, slow, wicked, and full of dark promise spread across his face. “I wonder how long before I can have you screaming obscenities at me and cursing my name.”
“Never.” But even as she made the vow, she knew it would be impossible to keep if for no other reason than he would make it his mission to force her to break it.
To break her.
God, she couldn’t wait.
The distinct sound of ice rattling against metal drew her attention to the side of the bed, where her tormentor was arranging the supplies he’d obviously gathered on his way up the stairs. He’d sent her up first, with firm instructions to be naked and on the bed by the time he arrived.
That part of her which craved punishment had wanted to dawdle, to see how far she could push him. But in the end, her desire to forget, her need to simply let go of reality even if only for a few minutes, had won out and she’d been in position when he’d joined her in the bedroom.
Still fully clothed, but with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled to his elbows, he was the very picture of a gentleman Dom. Sleek, sophisticated, and without a doubt, absolutely in control of the situation. Picking up a pair of ice tongs, he reached into the metal bucket on the side table and plucked out a single, perfect ice cube.
Daddy Owen was nothing if not prepared.
“Open.”
With her eyes locked on his, she slowly parted her lips, allowing him to push the cube into her mouth. The shock of cold felt as if it were burning her tongue for a second, but the heat of her mouth quickly went to work on the cube. Cool liquid trickled down her abused throat, soothing the ache, but only just enough to leave her wanting more.
He worked in silence, dragging the cold, wet block across her lips and down her chin to the exposed column of her throat. A shocked gasp escaped when the painful iciness circled her nipple.
“Poor baby.” The sweet, almost mocking words were followed by another shock of cold as he moved the ice cube to the opposite nipple. When both peaks stood firm and aching from his ministrations, he spoke again. “Does it hurt, babygirl?”
“Y-yes, Daddy.”
He hummed with approval and she braced for another onslaught. But instead of cold, the heat of his mouth engulfed her nipple. Back arching, she cried out at the sudden intense change of temperature. Sharp teeth nipped at her sore, sensitive bud, drawing an aggrieved hiss from her lips. “Goddammit!”
“Naughty little girl,” he murmured, his scolding words vibrating against her too-sensitive skin. “I think it’s time we address this habit you have of swearing at Daddy, don’t you?”
Danger, danger, danger!Warning bells rang in her mind and her head thrashed against the pillow. “No, Daddy, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again!”
“That’s what all little girls say when they’re in trouble, isn’t it?” Moving to the end of the bed, he tugged at the buckle of the restraint around one ankle, and then the other, freeing her. But there was no sense of relief, only that fascinating mix of fear and excitement a Daddy intent on punishing his little girl could create.
“Legs up.”
At the short, sharp command, she instinctively lifted her feet up off the mattress. Hooking an arm behind her knees, Owen pushed her legs up and back even further, exposing her to his gaze.
A stinging swat exploded across her skin, an agony a hundred times worse than being over his knee thanks to the way her skin was pulled taut by the humiliating position. And before she could draw a breath, another landed, then another.
Dozens of punishing blows rained down across her backside. With some, the tips of his fingers would catch the exposed lips of her pussy, an extra dose of punishment that had her howling in response. And as the pain grew, she couldn’t help but tighten her muscles in an instinctive defense against the punishment, which sent a painful reminder of the plug she still held inside her bottom flashing through her core.