When I wake, it’s toSir’s mouth on my pussy, two fingers inside me, and another teasing the puckered hole of my ass. I let out a sleepy moan and writhe beneath him. I don’t ask permission to come—I know I should, but I don’t—and he doesn’t give it freely. My Sir knows my body. He knows when I’m close to coming better than I do, and he definitely knows when to stop in order to keep my pleasure fisted tightly in his grasp. Perhaps this is all part of the game we like to play. Perhaps he’ll punish me later for this too. Or maybe he’s no longer keeping tally of all my indiscretions.
I’m breaking all the rules now anyway.
I fist his hair as viciously as he does mine, and I grind my pussy against his face. For once I have all the power, and I don’t stifle my cries when I come against his mouth. I come hard, I scream, and I don’t relinquish my hold on him until I’m satisfied.
Ares climbs up my body, his hips dipping into the space between my thighs. His erection teases my drenched pussy, sliding through my slick folds, over my clit, and finally inside with one hard shove. His lips hover over mine, so close I can smell myself on his breath, and then he kisses me. Deep and cruel, as forceful as the brutal thrusts between my legs. I’m impaled by him, both tongue and cock. Each movement is more savage and jarring than the last. But it feels so damn good. In all the time he’s possessed me, he’s never made me feel more wanted.
When he comes inside me, I lose myself to his driving rhythm. I’m close to orgasm again when he pulls out and, with a dripping cock, orders me onto the floor.
“Kneel. I want your ass up, and your arms outstretched in front of you.”
“Yes, Sir.” I assume the position, dipping my back and settling into the pose with my ass waggling in the air.
He gives it a playful slap. “Don’t get cute with me, Pet. I’m going to punish you for last night. It will be hard and fast, but I doubt it will be enjoyable. At least not for you.”
He’s wrong. Every punishment he dishes out is enjoyable because I crave his brutality, his dominance over me.
“Good girl.” Ares smooths a hand along the dip of my spine and over the curve of my ass. He plays with my most sensitive flesh, running his finger over my hole before lowering his head and darting out his tongue. I do my best to keep still, to quiet my mind that’s screamingno, no, no, and I breathe into the strange and alien sensation.
Too soon, he’s moving away from me toward the armoire. I watch him while his back is turned, his naked body so strong and dominating, so fucking perfect, a thing of both nightmares and dreams, depending on how you look at it. He turns, and catches me staring. The heat in his gaze and the quirk of his mouth tell me he finds me amusing. I lower my eyes and note several bundles of red rope in his hands. My gaze darts to his, and I’m certain panic is written all over my face.
“So fucking precious.” His long strides eat up the distance between us. “Arms behind your back, Pet. Box position.”
“Yes, Sir.” I fold them the way he requested, with each hands grasping the opposite forearm. It forces my head against the floor. The rope zings against my flesh as he threads it around my arms and breasts. It’s not prickly and scratchy, but soft, silky almost. My breathing is shallow, excited, and the more he loops the rope, the deeper I fall, the more relaxed I become. He ties the knots with gusto, and I’m yanked about with each one. The pressure of the rope binding my flesh and his hot breath on my neck is strangely comforting.
The slide of rope against rope sets off a vibration. It zings with each pull, each knot. My heart trips in time, a stop-start staccato so heavy I feel it in my throat and throughout my entire body. I surrender to it completely. He binds my legs in what he tells me is a simple frog-tie position. It allows me to spread them, but I’m afforded no more movement than that. I can’t kick, I can’t buck, and I’m blissfully restrained with my ass up in the air, and my pussy spread open in invitation.
Sir gives a final tug on the rope binding my arms, ensuring I won’t struggle free. As if I’d even consider trying. Being at his mercy excites me as much as it frightens me, but the heady mix of exhilaration and fear crashes together inside me like cymbals, like waves, and once again, I’m tossed in his ocean. I’m deliriously submissive, and I love every second of it.
I shift my head to the side and watch as he returns to the armoire. He selects a black leather riding crop, a small tube of lubricant, a vibrator, and a large, shiny metal . . . fork? There are two prongs, both with silver balls on the ends, while the other appears to be a handle. Terror creeps down my spine with icy fingers, and I close my eyes, suddenly wishing I hadn’t snuck a peek. Sir’s low, growling chuckle wraps around me as he bends over and runs his palm across my ass with soothing strokes. “Relax, Pet. It’s not as scary as it looks.”
“You’d tell me that even if it was. You love to torture me, Sir.”
“That’s true. Now be a good girl, and hold perfectly still.” He pops the cap on the tube of lubricant, the sound too loud in the quiet of our room. I take a deep breath as I feel cold, slippery metal against my ass. “Bear down and breathe, little one.”
I do as ordered, sucking in a slow, deep breath before exhaling and pushing out with my muscles as the cold steel enters my body.
“That’s it, Pet. I told you it wasn’t scary.”
“What is it, Sir?” I say breathlessly. I want to squirm, wriggle free and inspect the device he’s currently using to drive me insane, but I hold still because his rope means I’m not going anywhere, even if I want to.
“This?” Ares flicks one of the tines with his finger. It makes a peculiar ringing sound, and vibrations travel through the device everywhere it touches my flesh, including my insides. I gasp. “This is a Satan’s Fork. Like a tuning fork. It emits vibrations when the prongs are struck, but I’m betting you’re already feeling those. Do you like it, Pet?”
“Yes,” I pant, my whole body humming. “Please, Sir. More.”
“Patience, little one. I’ll give you more, but first, I believe I have a little pain to exact.”
The whine that leaves my throat doesn’t sound like my own, but I know it belongs to me when the tongue of the riding crop hits the firm globes of my ass hard. Too hard.Oh God, and that was just the first blow.
“I’m going to hit you another six times. I’d add a few more to that number for your bratty fucking behavior, but the day has just started, and I dare say you’ll piss me off between now and nightfall. One ass can only take so much punishment, so I’ll go easy on you just this once.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I whisper, breathlessly.
“Don’t thank me yet, Pet.” Without warning, he strikes me again, this time in the crease where my thigh meets my buttocks. I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. My body writhes with both the agony of the crop and the exquisite pleasure of the vibrations.
I’m struck four more times on the thigh, the calf, the ass, and finally on the very soles of my feet. That last feels like a brand as red-hot pain sparks throughout my body. My synapses explode, adrenaline races through my veins, and a light sheen of sweat breaks out all over me. I’m a shivery, noodly mess, and I haven’t even come yet.
Sir’s crop licks the inside of my thigh, and I tense because I know what’s coming. There’s still one more blow to administer.No. “No, no, no. Please, Sir, please not there.”