He sits and points to his lap. “Now, get your ass over my knee, and don’t make me tell you twice.”
I scramble to do as he orders. I don’t want him to spank me in front of all of these men. It’s humiliating enough having him use me, and reprimand me the way he already has, but I climb into his lap and he pats my ass.
“Good. Maybe some of the blood rushing to your cunt has redirected back to your brain and you’re finally making sound decisions again. I’m going to hit you twenty times.”
Twenty? He’s never struck me that many times.
He grabs my waist and shifts me closer. I can feel his cock lengthening against my belly. “This will hurt.”
His hand comes down on my cheek. I jump and grit my teeth.
“You’re not counting.”
“One.”
“Just for that, you get another five.”
I sob. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“Good. Seems you can teach a naughty Pet to behave.” He strikes me again.
“Two.”
He delivers one smack after the other in quick succession, all with the flat of his hand. I don’t know how it’s possible, but it hurts worse than the bite of his belt, or the flogger he’d used earlier. Each blow is a new hell, and I’m torn between catching my breath and counting. He’s doing it deliberately. He wants me on my toes. He wants me quaking with fear. I hurry to count each smack, but then around twenty I’m in so much pain that I stumble and add three by accident. It earns me another five. Eventually, I let go. I stop struggling and enter subspace.
Shortly after, I’m floating. I feel the blows, but they aren’t as sharp as before. I’m a drooling mess of a woman, a pet, and I don’t know how I’m still counting. But I keep that number in my head and I don’t miss a beat. After the thirtieth blow, I don’t care that these men have all crowded close to witness my punishment. I don’t care that my ass is black and blue, and I won’t be able to sit down for a month. All I want is sleep and my Sir’s arms.
“Good girl,” he whispers, as I’m pulled from his lap and delivered into the safety of his embrace.
He carries me up the stairs and back to the confines of our room. Our earlier struggles are forgotten as he lays me facedown on the bed. Ares removes his belt, and the soft shush of his pants hitting the floor sends chills down my spine. I’m one giant wet noodle as he climbs on top, runs his cock through my wet heat and pushes into my body. I moan as he thrusts inside me right to the root, stretching me with his thick girth, and hitting my womb, waking all my senses.How long have I wanted him to take me like this? How long have I begged him to fuck my pussy?
With every pivot of his hips, every deep thrust and slap of his balls against my ass, he coaxes me back from the brink of oblivion.
“Oh fuck, I knew you’d feel this fucking perfect around my cock,” Ares hisses, fisting his hand in my hair again. “Shit, shit, shit. You make me lose my goddamn mind, Pet.”
I grind my pussy against the coverlet, loving the way it scratches at my clit, and the pleasure–pain from Ares’ groin as he plants his feet and fucks me harder, causing a spike of pain through my tender ass. My breath hitches in my throat, my grunts as loud and carnal as his own.
He shoves his hand under my stomach and pulls me up, his arm banding my waist as I take his length on all fours. “You are not to come, Pet.”
I whine.
“I mean it. If I feel that pussy clenching with orgasm, I’m going to take you downstairs again and I’ll hand you over to Hermes myself.”
“Why?” I cry. “Why are you so cruel?”
“Because I like to watch you suffer.”
“You’re a sadist.”
He groans as he plunges deep. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
I sniff back my tears, but they spill free anyway. Sobs rack my frame even though I’m just seconds away from coming.
“That’s it, little one. Give me all your tears.” He grabs my hair and pulls, tilting my head back at an unnatural angle to lick the salt from my face. I cry harder, desperate for the release he won’t give me. Begging and crying only spurs him on. “Fuck, Pet, I love your cunt.”
His thrusting turns to rutting, wild with abandon, animal and untamed, until finally, Ares comes inside me, spilling hot jets of semen as he roars then whispers in my ear, “Mine, mine, mine.”
He collapses on top of me, pushing my body deeper into the bed. He pants, his hot breath tickling the nape of my neck. Without warning, he sinks his teeth into my shoulder. I scream, but he doesn’t let up, not until I quiet and settle into the pain. He doesn’t need to roar or whisper to get his point across this time. His teeth marks won’t scar. He didn’t even break the skin, but they’ll be forever burned on my psyche.Mine.